Текст книги "Intermix Nation "
Автор книги: M. Attardo
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
Chapter Fourteen
Nazirah opens her eyes in Nikolaus’s office and finds she is screaming. She bites the inside of her arm and grips the edge of the desk. She sinks onto the floor, gasping, trying to catch her breath.
What has she done? If Nazirah had any inkling that she would see that, she would have never used the Iluxor!
Gagging, Nazirah returns the Iluxor to the briefcase. She chokes back a sob as she hides the used syringe in the garbage. Returning the briefcase to the bookshelf, Nazirah curses herself for her curiosity.
She unlocks Nikolaus’s door, practically running out of his office. Nazirah is aware that she looks completely distraught, but she needs to get out of there as quickly as possible. She glances up at the clock and is shocked to find that she’s been inside the Iluxor for only five minutes. Five minutes!
She shouldn’t be surprised; her world has changed completely in less time.
Nazirah walks towards her room, shaking, grateful that fate doesn’t place anyone she knows in her path. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter, because she’s afraid she might collapse if she does.
This is it. This is the reason Adamek joined the rebellion. His father killed his mother. Why, Nazirah doesn’t know. But Victoria’s unintentional last request was for Adamek to be better, and that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. And get his vengeance at the same time.
How has Victoria’s death not made headlines? How has this been kept secret?
Nazirah thinks about the massive news storm surrounding her parents’ death. Gabirel Morgen had not only used Riva and Kasimir as a scapegoat for the rebellion, he had also used them to divert attention from the murder of his wife. There is no massive search for a cure for Victoria Morgen, because she’s already dead. She’s been dead for months.
Nazirah abruptly turns into the girls’ lavatory. It’s empty and Nazirah runs to the nearest stall, locking the door. She breathes in deeply through her nose, trying to collect herself. Not caring if anyone walks in anymore, Nazirah sits down on the cold floor, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her head on her knees.
Everything makes sense now, but nothing makes sense at all. Nazirah has more unanswered questions than ever. Adamek’s Medi tattoo changed, but why? What the hell is the monkey? Why is Victoria dead? Why did Gabirel hide it? What kind of a twisted freak is Adamek’s father?
God, she doesn’t want this.
Nazirah doesn’t want to feel anything for Adamek besides hate. She doesn’t want to pity him, doesn’t want to understand him. She only wants the hate, the hate that blocks out every other emotion. But she doesn’t just hate him anymore. She hasn’t for a while. And she hates that. She hates it so much.
It’s his worst memory, finding his mother murdered. Exactly the same as hers. She almost laughs at the sick irony of it all, hating that they’re more alike than she knew.
Does he force himself to relive that memory over and over, hoping to deal with the overwhelming grief? Does he also feel like a failure, like a disappointment? Feel like he could have prevented it all, if only he did the right thing to begin with?
She knows why Adamek understands the guilt that haunts her. It haunts him too.
Nikolaus must know. From the way he looked at Adamek in his office, Nazirah thinks he’s probably seen that exact memory as well. It’s probably why he trusted Adamek in the first place. If only Nazirah had trusted Nikolaus.
Nazirah knows Adamek will murder her if he finds out. She knows it like she knows her name. And she has to work with him over the next several weeks. How is she supposed to hide this from him, when she can’t seem to hide anything from him?
Nazirah’s breathing slowly returns to normal. She eventually gets up from the bathroom floor and walks out the door, leaving several surprised, primping girls behind. Making the short journey to her room, she collapses in a heap on her bed, face puffy, body exhausted, and soul weary.
Kasimir, Riva, Aneira, and now Victoria.
The blood can be washed away. But Nazirah’s memory is stained for good.
#
A long time later, or maybe not long at all, someone knocks on her door. Nazirah can’t muster the energy to answer it. “Come in,” she calls out weakly.
Thankfully, the person on the other side of the door hears her. The door swings open, unsurprisingly revealing Cato. Cato steps inside, surprisingly revealing Lumi. Even more surprisingly, revealing Lumi holding a slice of cake.
Cato and Lumi both shoot Nazirah worried looks. Cato takes in her haggard, blotchy appearance in sympathy, almost relief. “We heard about your assignment,” he says.
Lumi closes the door and sits beside Nazirah on the bed, offering her the slice. Nazirah accepts it, even though she can’t stomach anything. Cato drops onto Nazirah’s chair. “Everyone’s been talking about it,” Lumi says.
Nazirah can barely process what they are saying. It feels like an eternity ago that Nikolaus asked her to campaign around Renatus with Adamek and Aldrik. Do Cato and Lumi really think that is why she’s so upset? It seems so unimportant now.
“Thanks for the cake.”
It’s all she can get out. She sits up slowly, head cloudy. Nazirah doesn’t want to, but she takes a big bite, hoping that a full mouth will diminish her responsibility to speak. It’s not that she doesn’t trust them. Even though Lumi can be self-absorbed, Nazirah knows she can keep a secret. And Nazirah trusts Cato with her life. But this thing with Adamek is so private, so sensitive, that she can’t share it with anyone. Including her closest friends.
“It was my idea,” Lumi says. “Cato just went along with it.”
Nazirah raises an eyebrow at Cato, who shrugs noncommittally. “How are you handling it?” he asks.
Nazirah chooses to answer honestly. “Isn’t it obvious?” she sighs. “I’m not.”
“It’ll be okay, Irri,” Cato says seriously. “Aldrik will be there to protect you from Morgen. You don’t even have to acknowledge that piece of shit, except when you’re giving your speeches or whatever else Niko wants you to do.”
Lumi stiffens slightly at the mention of Adamek. As usual, Cato notices nothing. Nazirah doesn’t respond. If only it were that easy. If only she could just ignore him. “And think about the opportunity you have,” Lumi says, unusually compassionate. “To travel and really make an impact on the rebellion! You’ll see the country, including Zima! And you’ll get to go back home.”
Nazirah brightens considerably. “You’re absolutely right, Lumi!” she says. “I completely forgot, but Niko mentioned going to Rafu.”
“See?”
It’s definitely strange that Lumi could cheer Nazirah up better than Cato, but it goes with the rest of the day. “I think I need to sleep it off,” Nazirah says, forcing another bite of cake. “It’s been a really long day, for all of us. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Honestly.”
They both get the hint, standing up but still hovering.
Nazirah chews the cake slowly, hoping they leave before she either vomits or spills her guts. Cato gently squeezes her shoulder. Lumi, much to Nazirah’s surprise, embraces her awkwardly. They finally leave.
Nazirah immediately spits the cake into her garbage and returns to staring at the wall.
#
Monday comes mercilessly. Lumi left for Zima the night before. The lingering recruits threw one last party in her honor. They won’t see one another again for several weeks, when their fates will intertwine like the cord of a life preserver – or the rope of a noose.
Live or die, in it together.
Cato comes to Nazirah’s room as promised, completely hungover. His hair is still matted from sleeping. He stretches his stiff limbs before grabbing Nazirah’s luggage.
Nazirah slings her remaining bag over her shoulder. She didn’t know what to pack. Nikolaus told her to prepare for drastic climate changes throughout the territories. Nazirah’s already experienced the overwhelming dry heat of the Red West, but has no idea what to expect in Zima or Osen. She’s immensely excited at the prospect of seeing snow for the first time. But she doubts her usual shorts and light tops are appropriate there. And it’s not like she could afford anything else.
What is the face of the rebellion supposed to look like, anyhow? Nazirah feels completely unprepared.
“It’s going to be so weird without you,” Cato says.
In their thirteen years of friendship, this will be the first time they’ll be separated for more than a few days. Their relationship has been strained lately. There’s so much Nazirah has hidden from him in the past few weeks. She knows he’s picked up on her vagueness. Nazirah wonders if maybe this time apart will be good for them.
Cato carries her bags down the stairwell, yawning into his arm as they exit the staircase and walk towards the front entrance. Nazirah rolls her eyes. “You seem really broken up about it.”
He grabs her arm once they’re outside. “Hey,” he says gently. “Stop that. You know I’m no good when I’ve just woken up.”
“When you’re hungover, you mean.”
“Or that,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
“You clearly kept the party going after I left last night.” She laughs.
“I was drowning my sorrows over you leaving,” he says seriously.
Nazirah snorts. “I’m sure.”
“I really will miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” she sighs. “You’ll try to visit me when the campaign comes to the Red West?”
“If they let me off assignment,” he says, “in a heartbeat.”
“Well … convince them,” she says.
Someone coughs loudly. They turn, spotting Aldrik, Nikolaus, and Adamek waiting by the car. Nazirah walks over to greet Nikolaus as Cato puts her luggage in the trunk. Aldrik huffs as soon as Nazirah moves from the entrance, getting into the driver’s seat.
Nazirah is annoyed. “I’m not late,” she says to Nikolaus, standing up on her tiptoes to give him a light hug.
Nikolaus returns it with unusual enthusiasm. “I didn’t say anything,” he tells her.
“I’m actually early,” Nazirah continues, “so you can go ahead and tell Aldrik right now to stuff the attitude.”
“I’ll pass,” he says. “I’m just happy you showed.”
“Someone has to represent our family.”
“Be safe, Nazirah,” Niko says. “I’ll be checking in with Aldrik daily to get updates. I know you’ll make us proud.”
Cato’s hug lasts much longer. Nazirah closes her eyes, trying to relax. She doesn’t feel confident. She doesn’t know how she can do any of this. She pulls away from Cato slowly, aware of several pairs of eyes on them. Cato smiles sleepily. “What’s that stupid saying, Irri?” he asks. “It’s not ‘goodbye,’ it’s ‘see you later?’”
Adamek snorts and Cato shoots him a glare.
“You’re such a clown,” Nazirah says, laughing.
“I brought this for you.” He pulls something out of his sweatshirt. It’s Nazirah’s favorite picture of them, the one of her smiling and holding the fish. “Something to remember me by,” he says, looking at Adamek, “When I’m not around to protect you.”
It’s a beautiful gift, more than she could have hoped for. Nazirah hugs the frame tightly to her chest, suddenly afraid of saying goodbye, afraid of losing him entirely. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“I can’t follow you this time, Irri. But I’ll always be with you,” he says.
“Please be careful.”
“I will,” he says. Hesitating, he adds, “if you see my family, just … just tell them I love them. Okay?”
Nazirah nods. “I will.”
Cato leans into her. “Watch your back,” he whispers into her ear.
“I’ll be fine.” She smiles and gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Touching as this heartwarming display of affection is,” Aldrik says, leaning his head out the window, “we’re expected in Rafu before the end of the war.”
Nazirah bites the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh. She gives Cato one final quick hug and then slides into the backseat of the car. Adamek follows her lead, sitting on the opposite side. Aldrik fires the ignition and the car begins moving. Nazirah watches as Cato and Nikolaus get smaller and smaller in the distance. They are waving dots for a while as the car exits the various security gates leading out of the compound, and then Nazirah cannot see them at all anymore. She faces forward, into her new reality.
The ride to Rafu is silent and awkward. To distract herself, Nazirah stares at Cato’s picture. She smiles, gently tracing her fingers over the seashells on the frame. Adamek runs a hand over one. “If recon doesn’t work out,” he says dryly, blowing glitter off his fingertips, “Caal definitely has a backup career in the arts.”
“His little sister glued them on,” she says, unable to look at him. Nazirah is still pretty distraught over what she saw in the Iluxor, and she doesn’t know how well she can hide it. She also hasn’t been home since her parents’ funeral. The thought of returning with him, of all people, feels entirely wrong.
They begin passing familiar scenery. Large sand dunes run perpendicular to alabaster cliffs. The paved roads narrow, crack, and eventually become impacted dirt. The houses shrink, sinking to the ground. They transition into the familiar beach bungalows and cottages of Nazirah’s youth. Children cycle on bicycles, standing on the pegs, laughing and racing. This is southern Eridies, birthplace of stolen kisses under the boardwalk, endless summer days, and sticky heat.
Aldrik turns down a familiar dirt road. Nazirah catches a glimpse of ocean in the distance and recognizes the area immediately. The car stops in front of a dilapidated inn. The engine has barely died before Nazirah is pushing open the door. She sets her feet on solid ground eagerly. Standing up, Nazirah smells the salty air and hears the welcoming cry of seagulls.
Rafu is her home and Nazirah misses it so much it hurts. But all of it hurts. It hurts to stay away. And somehow, it hurts even worse to return.
Chapter Fifteen
The inn is even seedier inside, but Nazirah doesn’t complain. After several bribes, the innkeepers allow the three of them to stay there and host a few small meetings. Aldrik hands Nazirah her room key, telling her to meet in the lobby in an hour. He leaves without another word, heading straight for the bar. Nazirah sighs, setting off down the musty hallway. He’ll clearly be looking out for her the entire time.
Nazirah opens the door to her room, which is small but mercifully clean. She’s relieved to find that her two bags have already been brought up. Nazirah spends two minutes stuffing her clothes into the tiny dresser. She spends another thirty seconds perfectly positioning the photo of her and Cato on the wicker nightstand.
Her hands shake as she tries to drag out the time. She’s never been much of a public speaker. Nikolaus knows this. He’s the leader, not she. Nazirah has no idea what to say at this meeting in … fifty-seven minutes … to win anyone over. She usually says the wrong thing all of the time anyway.
Nazirah sits on the window seat, staring nostalgically at the streets below. She idly draws shapes in the dusty window, then opens it to let in some fresh air. Nazirah watches people walking energetically. Being away for so long gives Nazirah a new perspective on Rafu, on the beauty of its simplicity. She looks at the white cement walls of the bungalows, bleached from constant sunlight. She looks at the salty ocean, warm even in wintertime. The cares here seem deceptively small.
The minutes tick away.
Should she prepare something? Will it seem inauthentic if she writes down a speech? What would she even write? Niko didn’t tell her what to say; he barely told her anything! Is he expecting people to rally around the rebels at the sight of her face? Nazirah doesn’t think that will quite cut it.
Twenty minutes to go and Nazirah cannot stand waiting anymore. She gives her hair a quick brush and strolls downstairs. The lobby is empty, but Nazirah spots Aldrik the next room over, still at the bar. He and Adamek are sitting in a far corner of the room, heavily engrossed in conversation. From the number of empty glasses at their table, Nazirah can tell they’ve been there the entire time.
Nazirah storms over to their table, bristling in indignation and attracting the stares of several patrons. She stands over them, arms crossed, clearing her throat loudly. Adamek glances up at the noise, but Aldrik continues scribbling away illegibly in his notebook. Without looking, Aldrik hands Nazirah his nearly empty glass. “Yes, love,” he says, “another brandy would be divine.” He slaps her backside.
Adamek’s green eyes light up in mirth. Nazirah’s blood boils. She throws the drink in Aldrik’s face and slams the now empty glass down in front of him. “Get your own goddamn brandy,” she snarls.
Several patrons sitting around them stop and stare at the commotion. Aldrik looks up at her with one astonished eye. “Oh,” he grumbles. “It’s only you.”
Nazirah slides onto the bench next to Adamek, glaring at the two of them. “Only me?” she growls. “Yes, it’s only little old me! Only one-third of your campaign, only the face of the rebellion!”
Aldrik wipes his own face with the back of his hand. “Congratulations, Nation,” he snaps. “You’re the face of the rebellion. Are you hoping for a party or something? Is that why you’re acting like such a bitch?”
“No! I want to know why I’m being left out of strategy meetings!”
“First of all,” Aldrik says, “this isn’t a strategy meeting. It’s a simple financial discussion, which you’ve never been expected to handle and which neither Morgen nor myself thought you would particularly enjoy.”
“I thought –”
“Shut up,” Aldrik interrupts. “Second of all, since you’re practically wetting yourself with eagerness, Morgen here can tell you all about our prospective budget of kickbacks and bribes while I go get that brandy.”
“I didn’t –”
He rises quickly, snatching the empty glass off the table. “And finally, you better watch your goddamn mouth around me. You might be able to pull that shit with your brother, Nation, but the Commander isn’t here. You answer to me now.”
And with that, he’s gone.
Nazirah stares blankly ahead. She slowly faces Adamek, who immediately bursts into laughter. Nazirah has never seen him genuinely laugh before. His eyes crinkle at the corners and his cheeks dimple. “If he didn’t hate you before, Nation,” Adamek manages to sputter out between laughs, “he definitely hates you now.”
Nazirah bangs her head against the table, knowing that he’s right. “I can’t believe he thought I was the damn waitress,” she says.
Adamek continues laughing, mimicking her in a falsetto that makes Nazirah cringe. “Get your own goddamn brandy.”
“I do not sound like that,” she huffs, playfully pushing his shoulder.
It’s something she’s done countless times to Cato. But this isn’t Cato. Nazirah and Adamek both have their roles to play and this isn’t part of the script. At the contact, the two of them sober up. He takes a sip of his drink. “I see you’re talking to me now.”
“Was I not before?” she asks slowly.
“In the car, you were ignoring me.”
Nazirah flushes. “No different than usual.”
“Finished wallowing over your boyfriend, then?”
“Cato’s not my boyfriend.”
“Does he know that?”
“Yes!” she snaps. Nazirah glances at the clock, realizing they only have a few minutes until the meeting starts. She drums her fingers nervously on the table.
“All right there, Nation?” he asks. “You seem stressed.”
“I hate public speaking,” she says. Nazirah isn’t sure why she chooses this moment to open up to Adamek, but there it is.
He shrugs. “So?” Adamek puts a steady hand over hers, stilling her fingers. “Everyone handles anxiety in different ways. Your ways tend to be incredibly annoying.”
“And what would you suggest I do instead?” Nazirah asks, pulling her hand out from under his more slowly than she needs to.
“Relax.”
“Relax?”
Nazirah looks at his unfinished drink, suddenly thinking of Victoria Morgen and her electric blue champagne. She glances at him, sure the guilt is plastered on her face.
“What?” he asks suspiciously.
“I have a better idea,” she says quickly. Nazirah reaches for his glass and downs the rest of it in one gulp. She grimaces as the alcohol burns her throat. “Ugh,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s not my drink.”
Adamek blinks … blinks again. He says, “That was … unexpected.”
Nazirah playfully blows in his face, blaming it on the nerves and the alcohol. “What?” she asks him innocently. “Intermix girls can’t drink?”
#
The room is small, confining, and crowded. There are several well-connected fishermen, some lesser Eridian Lords, and even a few intermix families. Nazirah assumes the majority of them are here through word of mouth, because the rebels can’t openly campaign without attracting Medi attention. She simultaneously wishes people would leave so she doesn’t have to speak and wants them to stay and garner support.
Nazirah coughs into her hand. The spontaneous swig of brandy did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves, leaving only a bitter taste in her mouth. Aldrik looks at her sideways, clearly worried that she’s panicking.
She is.
The meeting starts. Aldrik initiates, simply talking about the rebellion, why it was formed, and what the insurgents hope to achieve. He’s a passable speaker, although monotonous. Nazirah tunes him out within the first five minutes.
Unsurprisingly, Adamek is an excellent public speaker. He doesn’t detail anything sensitive or personal, merely reiterates what Aldrik said in a more rousing way.
Adamek finishes speaking. Both he and Aldrik look at Nazirah. The crowd watches her expectantly. They’ve come to see her: intermix, native Eridian, orphaned face of the rebellion. They’ve come to hear her words. But she is wordless.
“Hello,” she begins feebly. “My name is Nazirah Nation.” She stops speaking, unsure of where to go from there.
Aldrik mutters, “We’re fucked.”
To Nazirah’s complete surprise and gratitude, a small hand shoots up energetically, tiny wrist shaking in enthusiasm. She sighs in relief, because questions are specific. Questions need answers. Nazirah nods at the young boy near the front. “Yes?”
“Hi, Na-zee-rah,” the boy says, pronouncing her name slowly. He looks as nervous as Nazirah feels. The boy glances worriedly at his mother, who nods encouragingly. Nazirah can tell from his bare feet, tattered clothing, and from his mother’s lack of tattoo that he’s intermix. “My name is Cayu,” he says, “and I’m six.” He looks at his mother for reassurance again. “Mrs. Nation was my teacher. I miss her a lot and I miss learning, and I was wondering if you would teach us instead?” Finished, he exhales, smiling brightly.
Nazirah thinks that the questions might not be such a good idea after all. In fact, she thinks they might be a horrible idea. She looks at Cayu for a moment, struggling not to break down, completely unable to talk about Riva.
“That’s very kind, Cayu,” Nazirah says eventually. “Mrs. Nation would be proud. It’s very brave of you to come here and ask that today.” Nazirah smiles a little, because it’s the truth. And if this small intermix boy could find his courage, then maybe she can find hers as well. “I miss her a lot too,” she tells him honestly. “But I don’t have her patience, so I wouldn’t make a very good teacher like she was.” Encouraged, Nazirah speaks more confidently to the room at large. “But this is just another reason why we need your support. Because both intermix and Eridian children need better education systems in place, so that we can all escape our self-fulfilling prophecy of poverty. We need more compassionate, devoted teachers, like my mother. We need better schools, new books, and more funds for education. We need rights, just like everybody else!”
There is unexpected, heady power behind her voice. The room is still, absorbing her words, and then a dozen more hands shoot upwards. Nazirah is so startled that she forgets to call on someone. Aldrik firmly hits her back, making her jump. Nazirah quickly points at a random guy in the corner.
“Hi, Nazirah,” a young man says. Nazirah recognizes him from the illegal marketplace that operates under the boardwalk. “Thanks for speaking with us today. My name is Michus and I live in neighboring Mandar. I knew Kasimir for several years. We often traded together and he even helped me build a cottage for my family.”
Nazirah wrings her hands behind her at the mention of her father.
“I was devastated to learn what had happened to him,” Michus continues, glaring at Adamek, “And to your mother. Nothing would honor me more than to fight in your father’s name. But we are a very poor territory. How can intermix and humble Eridians possibly expect to win against the mighty capital? Isn’t it a suicide mission?”
“I won’t stand here and tell you that this will be easy,” Nazirah says. “I won’t lie to you, Michus. Yes, the capital is powerful. But they have become lazy. They indulge themselves in their skytowers, while we suffer in silence. Look around! Our passiveness kills us a little more each day! Look at how many lives have already been lost. Not just from the senseless murders, but from the constant famine and suppression our territory faces. If we do nothing, we are writing our own death sentences, and the death sentences of our children. And we will have only ourselves to blame.”
Several heads nod in approval. Nazirah sees Aldrik from the corner of her eye, clearly impressed by her heartfelt words.
“I have a question for you, Nazirah,” someone says loudly.
She knows that voice. Nazirah apprehensively scans the crowd for a raised hand, finds none. Her eyes lock onto familiar brown ones and she knows she’s done for. “Cander,” she says.
Cato’s older brother walks purposefully towards the center of the room, so that everyone can see. Cander and Nazirah have never exactly been the best of friends. Especially after Cato left home to join the rebellion. It was a huge matter of contention within the Caal household, although Cato never mentions it. Adamek, Aldrik, and the rest of the crowd watch their interaction curiously.
“You stand before us,” Cander projects, “asking us to risk our lives. Yet you refuse to invoke justice on the ones who have done us the greatest harm. We’ve all lost loved ones to this murderer beside you. Can you assure us that you won’t be so lenient on the Chancellor, on the rest of the loathsome Medis, who know all they need is daddy’s wallet and a mediocre apology in order to keep their heads? Can you tell us you’ve truly forgiven Adamek Morgen?”
The crowd is silent, hushed, waiting. Adamek tenses beside her. Cander’s words persecute Adamek, but Nazirah knows his intentions are directed elsewhere. He’s angry at Nazirah for taking his brother away – for taking him away for most of his life, to be honest. It’s this resentment that fuels Cander’s interrogation.
Nazirah stares at the floor, scuffing her shoe, willing herself not to cry. She’s completely unable to answer his question. Cander knows that Nazirah doesn’t forgive Adamek, no matter what the campaign implies. She may hate him just a little bit less, may understand him just a little bit more. But she doesn’t forgive him. And she can’t lie, not about this.
Aldrik notices her hesitation and quickly steps forward to save face. “Sometimes we must put aside personal vendettas,” he says, “in order to pursue the best interests of others. It’s a hard road that no one wants to travel, and this young woman has unfortunately found herself on it. And I can honestly say,” Aldrik gives Nazirah a significant look and she knows he’s going to ream her out later, “that her actions towards Adamek Morgen have been gracious, affectionate, and merciful.”
Nazirah is none of these things.
Cander looks entirely unconvinced and extremely angry as Aldrik wraps up the meeting with a few brief words. To Nazirah’s complete shock, however, she sees a few people nodding their assent. Do these fools actually believe the complete lies Aldrik’s spinning?
If they do, there aren’t enough of them. There aren’t nearly enough and Nazirah knows she’s failed.
#
“That went well.”
Aldrik looks pointedly at Nazirah, who sits cross-legged on her bed. He sighs, dramatically slumping onto her window seat. Adamek silently leans against the opposing wall. “I’ll do better,” Nazirah murmurs.
“You better,” Aldrik growls, scratching his beard. “I saved all our asses today, Nation. I don’t care if you hate him, if you wish he were dead. During the campaign, when someone asks you if you’ve forgiven Morgen … what do you say?”
“Yes,” she mumbles.
“Try again.”
“Yes,” Nazirah repeats. She tries to sound sincere, but the word is hollow on her lips.
Aldrik moans, tugging his beard. “This isn’t going to work.”
“Why do I even have to pretend?” she asks him. “Why can’t I be honest?” She gestures to Adamek. “We hate each other, but we’re working together towards a common goal! Shouldn’t that be something both intermix and territory-born can relate to? Why do I also have to be some champion of forgiveness?”
“Because honesty’s not enough,” Aldrik says, rising from his seat. “Even if a cause is worthwhile, it doesn’t mean people will rally behind it. A person is smart and empathetic. But people are ignorant and follow the will of the masses. Because they’re scared and they falsely believe that there’s safety in numbers. It’s not enough, you see, for you and Morgen to simply be enemies working together. You need to give the people something that tugs their heartstrings, something to believe in. Morgen can only become Renatus, the face of redemption, if you become the face of forgiveness. They go hand in hand and we need both in order for this campaign to work.”
Nazirah grits her teeth. “So what exactly do you suggest I do?”
“Pull it together,” Aldrik snaps. “Fast. I’ve already set the wheels in motion, during the brief conversations I had after the meeting today. It’s not like I would leave our fate in your fumbling, inept hands.” He doesn’t elaborate.
Nazirah is annoyed. “Are we done here?” she asks.
Aldrik nods. “Tomorrow morning, Morgen and I are following up with some of the suppliers we met today. It shouldn’t be too hard to incentivize these trout fuckers.” Aldrik nods at Adamek, who pulls out a pouch of gold coins and tosses it to him.
