The Sowing
Book One of the SEEDS Trilogy
TAI
Fall 23, Sector Annum 102, 13h45
I rest my head in my palm and try not to nod off as the afternoon sun crawls across my desk. At the center of the classroom, Professor Hawthorne spins a 3D hologram demonstrating how a genome folds and wraps to form a chromosome. I’ve seen it a hundred times.
“Artificial DNA synthesis, such as that used to create the seeds upon which the Sector depends for agriculture, has been in existence for some time. Recently, however, I’ve begun to investigate some of the potential data storage properties of artificial DNA. As you well know, DNA is the most powerful and compact form of data storage in existence….” I look around at my fellow students, who are staring, enraptured, at Hawthorne, scribbling feverishly on their desk screens. I bask in my ability to tune out this entire lecture. They’re not all like that—sometimes I’m the one frantically scribbling, trying to keep up with Hawthorne’s frenetic lecture pace. But protein folding is my mom’s area of research, and I’ve practically grown up in it.
I rub my eyes and shift in my seat. It’s warm in here, and I’m waging war with my eyelids, trying to keep them at half-mast. I’m about to fall asleep when I notice a red light blinks in the corner of my plasma. Hoping Hawthorne won’t notice my distraction, I tap my finger lightly against the screen where the red dot is pulsating. A few scrawled lines pop up:
Hey, pretty lady. Still breathing? I’ve practically lost my pulse. Dinner tonight? Assuming we both survive this lecture, that is. - E
I fight the grin that threatens to overrun my whole face and instead swivel in my chair so I can see Elijah Tawfiq, Hawthorne’s research assistant, out of the corner of my eye. Sitting at the back of the room, he’s doing a good job of pretending to pay attention. I shoot him a sly smile in response, and he flashes me that crooked grin of his that always sends a delicious pulse of warmth through me, triggering a swarm of butterflies that begin flapping their anxious, happy little wings in my belly. His dark brown eyes are set deeply into his olive-toned face, and his lashes are so long they almost look like feathers. He runs his hand casually through his thick, brown hair as he leans back, stretching, arms above his head. I turn back to my desk in an effort to suppress the temptation to jump him here and now. I jot off a quick reply.
Passing messages in class? Why, Eli! I would have thought better of the Sector’s most promising young scientist. - Tai
After weeks of flirting, Eli and I have been “officially” dating for almost a month now, but I still haven’t gotten over the thrill of seeing that insane smile aimed at me, the eagerness in his voice and step when he’s headed my way, and the soft kisses he presses into my skin as often as he possibly can. I’ve never been in love before, but I’m sure this is what it feels like. Filled up to overflowing, giddy. Ridiculous. I want to spend every passing moment together—and even that probably wouldn’t be enough.
The red dot blinks again in the corner, and I bring up his message.
I’ll pick you up at seven.
I can’t help but grin outright this time, and I hide my smile behind my hand. What a cocky bastard! He didn’t even wait for me to say yes. Of course, it’s not like I would turn him down. Still, this time I don’t turn around. I’m afraid I might actually giggle, and I don’t think Hawthorne would appreciate that.
Reflecting happily on the possibilities for the evening, I doodle on my screen, drawing stupid hearts like a little girl. Like Remy does when she’s daydreaming about Vale.
