Текст книги "Intermix Nation "

Автор книги: M. Attardo

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter Eleven

Life goes on at headquarters until it doesn’t.

Soft knocking in the middle of the night awakens Nazirah from a restless sleep. She kicks off her clammy sheets and jumps out of bed, groggy and disoriented. Nazirah stumbles forward, pulling the door open to reveal Cato. He has dark blue circles under his eyes and his face is puffy. He has clearly been crying. Nazirah looks around the hallway, finding it otherwise empty.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. Her voice is small and frightened. “Is Niko okay? Are we under attack?”

“He’s fine and we’re safe,” Cato says, taking her hands. “I don’t really know how to tell you this. I just … I didn’t want you to find out from anyone else.”

“What’s happened?”

His voice cracks. “It’s Aneira.”

“Is she okay?” she asks. Nazirah already knows she isn’t. Cato wouldn’t be here if she were.

He shakes his head. “She wasn’t happy here, Irri,” Cato says. “I think we all knew that. But no one could have known … could have ever imagined how unhappy. She’s at peace now.”

Nazirah lets go of his hands, shaking. This can’t be right. This has to be a dream, a mistake. This can’t be happening again.

Her parents, dead on the floor.

Aneira. Kind Aneira, who was always so sad and lonely. Who was going through an awkward phase without a mother to guide her, and now would never blossom. Who was ripped from her home and now would never return. Cato could say all he wanted. But this … this tragedy … could have been prevented. Should have been prevented. She feels sick. “Oh, God, Lumi!” she sobs, “And Yuki! Do they know?”

“They do,” he says sadly.

She feels dizzy, is having trouble forming cohesive thoughts. “When?”

“About an hour ago, outside,” he says. “She stole a gun from the armory.” Nazirah turns away from him, gagging. “She left a note.” Cato is having difficulty saying the words. “I heard the gun go off from my bedroom window. I ran outside and found her, but.…” He is crying too. He leans against the hallway wall for support, unable to finish.

Nazirah understands. The guilt and the grief, the feeling like you could have done more, if only you were there sooner. It’s the absolute worst feeling in the world. “There’s nothing you could have done, Cato,” she whispers. “You couldn’t have saved her.” Nazirah gently wipes his tears and wraps her arms around him, holding him tight.

“I wanted you to find out from someone you trusted,” he mumbles into her shoulder.

Where’s Lumi?”

“Outside with the others,” he says. “She won’t leave the body.”

Something intrinsic calls Nazirah to action. They can’t just stand there and do nothing, not while Lumi needs them. Nazirah grabs Cato’s hand lightly, pulling him towards the staircase. “Walk with me.”

Cato stops. “Nazirah, no!” he says sharply. “You don’t have to go down there. You don’t need to see that.”

“Lumi needs us right now,” Nazirah replies honestly. “How can I just go back to sleep, knowing what’s happening?”

Cato contemplates her words, searches for a counter-argument, but Nazirah has already won. Because this is the right thing to do, what they should have been doing all along. He nods silently, and she leads them downstairs.

In what feels like a surreal dream, they exit the staircase and make their way towards the back entrance. Only a few people are scattered throughout the hallways. Most of the rebels have not been notified yet. They remain upstairs sleeping, unaware. The ones that are awake embrace one another solemnly.

Outside, on the grounds, a large crowd of people gathers. A shroud covers Aneira’s body on the grass. Lord Grigori weeps over it, head in hands. Yuki clutches Lumi. She is only twelve, too young to understand, too old not to.

Bilungi is there, tears in her eyes and a firm expression on her face. She and several other healers light small red candles on the ground around Aneira’s body.

“It’s a Deathland tradition,” Cato whispers, “that helps the soul pass more easily into the afterlife.”

Nazirah is about to approach Lumi when Nikolaus spots her. He breaks off from speaking with Adamek and Gloom and Doom and walks towards her. He looks gaunt and exhausted.

Niko addresses Cato in hushed anger. “What is she doing here?” he snaps. “I specifically told you not to wake her.”

“Stop treating me like a child, Niko – like I can’t handle this!” Nazirah argues quietly. “I wanted to come – for Lumi, for Ani!”

Nikolaus is about to argue, but Aldrik pulls him aside. Nazirah wastes no time. She walks towards Lumi, who stares silently at the shroud. Yuki is gone from her side, trying to comfort her inconsolable father. Nazirah gently touches Lumi’s back. Lumi turns around, looking straight at Nazirah but not really seeing her. Once she realizes who it is, a moment or two later, she embraces Nazirah deeply.

The two of them stand there for a long time, both crying, both understanding the other’s pain. Bilungi and the healers finish lighting the candles. They chant and hum and pray. Cato comes up behind them. He holds Lumi as she collapses heavily on the grass, sobbing. Nazirah sits down beside them. Hundreds of candles flicker around her, but Nazirah feels no warmth from the flames.

Bilungi blesses Aneira’s body. Nikolaus and Aldrik gingerly lift the shroud, carrying her towards the hospital. The surviving Grigoris follow behind in a heartbreaking procession. Cato appears conflicted, wanting to stay with Nazirah but also wanting to make sure Lumi is okay. Nazirah waves him away.

Nazirah sits in darkness, sky cloudy and starless. It’s colder than usual, dead outside, the only light coming from the candles. Nazirah watches in a daze as the crowd thins.

The grounds empty. People awkwardly hover. They straggle, not talking to one another, not knowing what to do or how to act or who to be. Nazirah knows the feeling well.

Why did Aneira take her own life?

As the shock wears off, Nazirah feels the familiar pull of sadness and guilt. She cradles her head between shivering knees, not caring that her thin nightgown and bare feet offer little protection from the chill.

These deaths are all so senseless. Kasimir, Riva … now Ani. Why didn’t Nazirah talk to her more, appreciate her more? She knew she was lonely. Nazirah has no excuse for her actions, other than selfishness.

Someone sits down beside her on the grass. A mug of hot tea is thrust into her hand. “Cato, I’m fi –” Nazirah looks up, realizing it’s not Cato after all. “Is it poisoned?” she asks, trying to wrap her head around the fact that Adamek is here, offering her some type of comfort. She sees the hesitation on his face and takes a big sip without waiting for an answer.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.

Nazirah stares at the negative space between the candles where Aneira’s body used to be. “Could have spiked it, at least.”

“Next time,” Adamek says without thinking. He cringes, fingering his pendant aimlessly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s okay,” Nazirah says honestly. “I knew what you meant.” It feels strange to be with him like this, when just a week ago they were literally at each other’s throats. But it feels right too, somehow. Nazirah’s fingers idly circle the top of her mug. “Do you think she’s at peace now?”

Adamek shrugs. “Who knows?” he says. “Has to be better than this hell though, right?”

His honestly is refreshing. Cato and Nikolaus would tell her that of course she’s at peace. But how could they know for sure?

“What do the Medis believe happens in the afterlife?” she asks curiously, taking a sip.

“Medis don’t believe in an afterlife,” he replies. “Medis don’t believe in anything.”

Nazirah bites her lip, thinking hard. It makes sense. How could the Medis justify their cruelty, their savageness, if they believed in a moral code? “Nothing at all?”

Adamek stares at her. Nazirah is suddenly aware that she’s in her pajamas next to him. “If the Medis believe in anything,” he says, “they believe in power. And using any and all means to get it.”

“And is that what you believe?” she asks quietly.

“There’s something to be said for it,” he tells her, choosing his words carefully. “The power to make your own choices, the power over your own life, the power to be who you want to be, live where you want to live, love who you want to love.”

Nazirah looks away.

“But it’s not all I believe, no.”

“You talk about love and power like they’re the same thing.”

“Aren’t they?” he asks. “Isn’t love just the highest expression of power? The power over someone’s heart, over someone’s soul?”

“No,” Nazirah argues, annoyed, suddenly reminded to whom she’s speaking. “In fact, they’re opposites. To have power over someone is to use them for selfish purposes, for personal gain. To love someone is to sacrifice for them, to be selfless, to give up all power. They’re completely different.”

“Spoken by someone who’s never been in love.”

“And what would a Medi know of love?”

“And what would an intermix know of a Medi?”

“I know enough,” she says, bitterness creeping into her voice.

“So you say.”

“You don’t believe in an afterlife, then?”

He breaks eye contact first this time, unusually at a loss for words. “I never said that.”

She sips again. “So you do?”

“I’d like to believe in nothing,” Adamek says, after a moment. “But how can existence simply end when we die? It doesn’t logically make sense for us to be and then just not … be anymore. I believe, like you probably do, that our actions in life have consequences in death. That, in the end, we will all be judged.”

Nazirah is getting uncomfortable; this isn’t where she was expecting the conversation to go. But she’s curious about him. And, in a rare moment of openness, he is providing some insight. “The Eridians are a peaceful race,” Nazirah replies. “They believe that individual actions have consequences in life, but that the soul is always pure and at peace in the afterlife.”

“But you aren’t Eridian,” Adamek points out. “At least, not fully.” His voice is even but his eyes are inquisitve. “Can you honestly tell me that’s what you believe? That amnesty always carries over, even in death? That everyone, no matter how terrible their actions, gets a reprieve?”

Nazirah knows what he’s asking. Does she really believe that he, Adamek, will face no judgment at the end of his life, when the time comes for him to make his peace with the gods? “I don’t know what I believe,” she whispers.

“You’ll figure it out,” he says.

“Is that why you got the dusza?” she asks him suddenly. “Because you’re worried about your soul?” It’s out of her mouth and she can’t take it back. Surprise registers on his face for a second and then is gone.

“Perhaps,” he says. Adamek stands, the strain of the night clear in his movements.

Nazirah follows. She wonders what this must be like for him, to see death from the other side of the coin.

Not there for the kill, but for the fallout.

“Do you think it’ll work?”

Adamek is silent for a long time before he responds. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Irri!”

Cato shouts from the distance, looking anxious and worried. Nazirah waves at him reassuringly, turning back to Adamek one last time. “I’ve never been in love,” she says quietly. Nazirah doesn’t know why she’s saying this, but she knows she wants him to hear it. “But I have loved and I know enough about it to understand.… I had the best teachers.”

She begins walking away. Adamek lightly grabs her arm, stopping her. “The best teacher is life,” he says, so quietly that Nazirah struggles to hear him. “And you haven’t lived enough to know much of anything yet.”

“You’re a year older than me, Morgen,” Nazirah responds crossly. She pulls her arm away. “And you have?”

“It’s not a matter of age,” he says. “That’s not what I mean.”

“And what exactly do you mean?”

“Irri!” yells Cato again, interrupting them. “What are you doing?”

“You should get some rest,” Adamek says, dismissing her question.

Nazirah huffs, knowing she won’t get any more answers from him tonight. She looks at the empty mug in her hand. “Thanks for the poison,” she says, giving him a crooked smile before turning to leave.

#

Aneira’s funeral is solemn and moving. Lumi and Yuki make heartfelt, unscripted speeches about Aneira’s short but meaningful life, her intelligence, her keen observance, her patience and her spirit. They pray she’s in a better place, a happier place. They promise to honor her through their actions. As they speak, Nazirah makes her own vow. She promises to stop messing around, to stop being concerned with only her life, to stop running from everything that frightens her.

She will fight.

She will not be passive in this war anymore, because she knows what happens when she is. Another life lost, another weight added onto her already slumping shoulders. The guilt grows heavier and Nazirah’s heart grows heavier too.

She spots Adamek in the crowd, sitting alone in the last row. His hands are clenched and he stares at them. Nazirah thinks about their strange conversation. She wonders what it all means. She wonders why she cares when, only a few days ago, she was revolted by him. She wonders what’s changed.

She thinks it might be her.

Following Eridian tradition, floating lanterns are lit and released. It’s a haunting way to say goodbye. Nazirah watches the lanterns drift across the sky, spreading twilight in the air. She sees Lumi alone at a nearby picnic table. Nazirah sits down, not saying anything. She just wants to be there for her. Their differences seem so petty now.

“This is my fault,” Lumi says sadly. Nazirah wants to tell her that it’s not her fault, that she can’t blame herself. But she knows exactly how Lumi feels. And she knows from her own experience that those words won’t help. “I’ve been so selfish lately,” Lumi continues, staring at her delicate hands. “I’ve been selfish my entire life.”

Nazirah glances at Adamek, who is consoling Lord Grigori. “We can’t control the actions of others,” she says.

Lumi shakes her head, dams bursting from her eyes. “No, Nazirah! That’s no excuse. I’ve been running from the pain when I should have been facing it and protecting my family! I’ve failed my sisters … I’ve failed myself.”

“No one knew what Ani was going through,” Nazirah says. She knows it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as it leaves her mouth. Lumi glares blue icicles.

“I should have known,” she growls, pointing a finger inwards. “She was my sister! I should have known!”

Nazirah gently encloses Lumi’s hand within her own. “Lumi, what happened to Ani is awful and tragic. But she wouldn’t want you to live your life in her sadness. She would want you to move on, to make sure Yuki grows up happy. You have to be stronger than your sister was. You have to find that inner strength. When we get our final assignment next month, take some time away from here. Give yourself an opportunity to think about what it is you want … what’s best for you and your family.”

“I just wish my mother were still here,” Lumi cries. “She always knew what to do. I can only ever hope to be like her. But I’m sure you know exactly how that feels.”

“I do.”

Nazirah remembers Riva, her warmth and compassion. Inspiration flowed from her fingertips like milk and wisdom dripped from her mouth like honey. Lumi laughs bitterly, tracing the wood grain of the table. “One thing we have in common.”

“I’m sure there are other things,” Nazirah says, smiling. “We just have to find them.”

Lumi picks her fingernails. “What I’ve been doing lately, Nazirah, seems so stupid now. I was hoping to make Cato jealous. But Cato doesn’t even see me.”

“Cato’s oblivious to pretty much everything.”

“Not when it comes to you,” Lumi says.

“You’d be surprised,” Nazirah replies. “Sometimes you really have to spell things out for him.”

“Should I tell him I slept with Adamek?”

Nazirah coughs awkwardly. “That’s up to you. Morgen can be very persuasive when he wants.”

“I approached him, actually,” she says.

“Really?”

Lumi shrugs. “I heard the rumors, needed the release.”

Nazirah doesn’t want to hear anymore. “Right.”

“Do you think I’m a whore?”

“Not at all!” Nazirah says honestly. “I think he’s a scumbag, though.”

“He’s not so bad,” Lumi says. “I’ve been with guys a hell of a lot worse. There was nothing between us, though. We never talked … never even kissed. We were both just using the other, trying to escape reality.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Does it ever go away?” Lumi asks suddenly.

“Does what go away?”

“The guilt?”

Nazirah wants to say yes, but she can’t lie to her friend. And she can’t lie to herself anymore, either. She searches for the right words, but they don’t come. Because she is not Cato Caal. And she is not Riva Martel.

She is only Nazirah Nation.

“It’s always there,” she says finally. “Some days it’s dull and other days it’s sharp. But we can channel it and hopefully use it for something worthwhile. For something good, to honor them by. And then maybe, someday, we can find some peace.”

Lumi nods, like she’s expecting it. She sobs then and Nazirah embraces her, crying too. She cries for Lumi and for Aneira, for the Grigoris, for herself, for Nikolaus, for Cato, for Riva and Kasimir.

And most surprisingly, or maybe most unsurprisingly, she cries for Adamek.

Chapter Twelve

“Osen, near the Eridian border,” Taj says, shoveling food into his mouth.

A long month has passed since Aneira’s funeral. The recruits are eating dinner outside on picnic tables. Lumi doesn’t come out here much anymore, because the grounds hold too many bad memories, but even she’s here today. She has become thinner in the past few weeks, more withdrawn, and she eats beside Taj quietly. Taj wraps a friendly arm around her.

“You’ll love Osen, Taj,” Ansel says wistfully. “It’s so different from the Deathlands. There are hundreds of crystal-clear lakes, rolling hills, evergreen trees that fill the air with pine. And grass everywhere, greener than you could ever imagine.”

“I’ve heard,” Taj says excitedly. “I can’t wait to see it in person.”

Nazirah wishes she could see it too, the land Kasimir once called home.

Cato chews thoughtfully. “What’s your assignment there?”

Today, the recruits received their final assignments, but Nazirah is anxiously still awaiting hers. The recruits would soon be scattered throughout the territories, helping the insurgents with defense, reconnaissance, medicine, and so on. It’s their last test before reconvening at headquarters to pledge their lives and hearts to the rebellion.

It’s their last chance to back out.

Taj shrugs. “Glumindo didn’t say much … something about lumber.”

“Interesting,” Cato says. Nazirah begs to disagree, but at least Taj knows what his assignment is. “Lumi, what did you get?”

Lumi’s entire face lights up. “I’m going back home, to Zima! I’m sure my father and Nikolaus had something to do with it, but I’m grateful. It’s not in Kivar, my hometown in SoZima. Obviously, I can’t go back there while my lunatic uncle remains in power. But it’s enough. I’ll be working in a small hospital near the Oseni border.”

“Maybe you can come visit me on the weekends,” Taj jokes, winking a brown eye suggestively.

Everyone at the table laughs, including Lumi. “You never know,” she replies coyly. “Cato, where are you going again? The Red West, right?”

Nazirah tunes them out. Cato has already told her, several times since this morning, about his mission. He came to her room after breakfast, excited that he was assigned recon in the Deathlands. Nazirah is glad he’s enthusiastic … but the Deathlands are so dangerous and Cato is so gentle. Nazirah is worried he won’t handle it well.

Or maybe Nazirah is the one not handling it. Getting their final assignments has made training very real. They will be true rebels soon, and then there really will be no turning back.

“Irri, you’re quieter than usual,” Taj says. “Not happy with your assignment?”

Nazirah squirms uncomfortably in her seat. “Um, no,” she says. “I’m still waiting to get mine.”

“You haven’t been assigned?” Lumi asks. She could always be counted on to restate the obvious.

Nazirah tries to seem nonchalant. “Nope,” she says. “But I’m not the only one who hasn’t been assigned yet, right?” Nazirah looks around the table, hoping to see someone nod. But they all, even Cato, avert their eyes.

Crickets.

Nazirah knows what they’re all thinking, because she’s thinking it too. Nikolaus is keeping her at the compound, out of harm’s way. Because she’s his sister and because he thinks she can’t handle it. A few months ago, this would be exactly what Nazirah wanted. But lately, she wants nothing more than to fight for every life that’s been lost, including her own.

The recruits lie in the grass after dinner, enjoying their last few hours together.

“I’m sorry you’re down about this, Irri,” says Cato gently, broaching the topic after everyone else has left their table. “Maybe it’s for the best? I know I’ll feel a lot better with you safe here.”

“It’s not for the best!” she snaps. “I’m not some damsel in distress! I don’t need to be locked away in a tower!”

Cato looks perplexed. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Do I?” she asks him honestly. “You and Niko both baby me all the time, like I’m so fragile, ready to shatter at a moment’s notice. I’m tired of it!”

“I feel very protective of you, Irri,” he says. “I always have.”

“I know that,” she says. “And I appreciate it. But I’m sick of sitting back and watching life pass me by. Especially with the lives of so many others cut short. I feel like I’m wasting the time I have. Like I should be doing more, taking more risks … something! I just feel like I haven’t lived enough, I guess. You know?”

It feels right, what she said.

She ignores the fact that those words aren’t her own.

“Not really,” Cato replies honestly. “But I support you in everything you do, Irri. And I’ll support you in this.”

Nazirah watches children playing on the swings. It feels like forever ago that she and Cato were doing the same thing. Leaving their fears behind them and vaulting into their future. It’s time Nazirah started swinging again.

“Thank you,” she says, rising from her seat. “I’m just really upset. I need to go find Niko and see exactly what’s going on. It’ll make me feel better to know.”

Cato nods encouragingly. “Okay,” he says. “Remember Nazi, I can always stuff you in my suitcase and take you to the Deathlands with me.”

A hint of a smile graces her face. “Funny,” she says. “Wish me luck.”

#

Nikolaus isn’t hard to track down. Nazirah finds him in the first place she looks. She knocks on his office door before entering. He’s there, hovering over a huge map of Renatus. Nikolaus glances up from his desk.

“Why do you look so surprised?” she asks.

“Since when do you knock?”

Nazirah rolls her eyes. He and Cato would make a great comedy act, at her expense. “Since now.”

“And you’re not even screaming or shouting at me.”

“You’re jinxing it.”

Nazirah sits down, tapping her foot. Niko looks painfully gaunt, as the stress of the impending war takes its toll. His dark hair is longer, messier than he normally keeps it. He hasn’t shaved in several days. He resembles Kasimir more and more. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he says.

“You were?”

“You look nervous.”

“Just hear me out,” she begs.

“Okay.”

Nazirah dives headfirst into the argument she prepared on the short walk here, playing with the hem of her skirt. “I know I said that I didn’t want to help the rebellion and I wanted to run away and never come back. But I’ve changed my mind.”

“You have?”

“Yes.” Nazirah plows on. “I do want to make a difference! I do believe in what we’re fighting for! And I want to help!”

“Irri –”

“You can’t keep me hostage here!” she interrupts. “Doing nothing, trapped in this prison, while all my friends are out risking their lives! I need to do something worthwhile, for our parents, for myself! Or I will go insane. Do you understand? I will completely lose it! You have to give me something!”

“Nazirah –”

“I’m tired of everyone treating me like a child every second of every day! Like I’m some sort of porcelain doll! Well I’m not, okay? I can handle this, okay? And you know what? I hate dolls! And besides,” she rants, breathless, “isn’t this showing the exact same favoritism that you’ve been condemning? It’s not even favoritism, Niko! It’s like anti-favoritism, because I don’t even want –”

Niko slams his fist on the desk. “Nazirah, shut the hell up for a second, will you?” He rubs his temples. “My God, you’re exactly like Riva! You talk and talk and no one can get a word in edgewise!”

“Sorry, but –”

“Shut up!” he yells. “If you had let me speak from the beginning, you would know that I do have an assignment for you!”

The door creaks open. Nazirah snaps her head around, watching Adamek walk in with the silver Iluxor briefcase. She hasn’t seen him in weeks, not since Aneira’s funeral. His expression is unusually haggard, his hair is slightly tousled, and there is intense sadness in his face. When he sees her, though, every emotion is wiped clean, replaced by his usual mask. Nazirah glances at Nikolaus. His eye twitches once.

“All right there, Morgen?” Nikolaus says.

Adamek nods. “I didn’t realize you had company.” He places the briefcase on Nikolaus’s shelf. “Just returning this,” he says and leaves without another word.

The recruits haven’t had Iluxor training in weeks. Nazirah doesn’t think Adamek gives private sessions. Why had he borrowed it? “What was that about?” she asks Niko.

“Nothing important,” he says, brushing her off. “Listen, back to what we were discussing before … or what you were ranting about before … I’m pleased you want to help. And you’ve misjudged me, because I have a special assignment for you. It’s unusual and will be incredibly challenging. But I believe that you’re the only person for the job.”

Nazirah sits on the edge of her seat in breathless anticipation. “What is it?” she asks.

“For several months now,” he says, “the recon team and I have formed strategic alliances throughout the territories. Coupled with the information that Morgen and our various spies have provided, including the city layout of Mediah, we plan to seize the government in a coup within a few weeks. Our ultimate goal is to surround them simultaneously from all four directions. With the help of our allies, we’ll take over their main government skytowers, strongholds, and symbols of power. The rest will hopefully fall after that.”

Nazirah is stunned. “This is really happening?”

“It is,” Nikolaus reassures her. “We plan on taking out the Medi leaders in one fell swoop, replacing their government with our own.”

“Which would be what, exactly?”

Nikolaus shrugs. “A democracy maybe,” he says, “like they had in the Old Country. Maybe even something socialist. We haven’t really thought about it much.”

“You haven’t thought about it much?” she repeats.

“We’ll need a government where there’s equality of opportunity for all races, including intermix, where resources are distributed according to need, where people aren’t segregated, are allowed to live where they want and marry who they want. But the exact details are still up in the air.”

“Clearly.”

“Nazirah,” he sighs, “we have to figure out how to win the war first. The rest comes later.”

Nazirah scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you really think it’ll be that easy? That’s your grand plan? Throw the entire country into chaos and let the cards fall where they may?”

“You’re simplifying it.”

“I’m not!” she cries. “You expect to defeat the Medis like that?” Nazirah snaps her fingers. “They’re the Medis, Niko! Not a band of Eridian school bullies! And even if we do somehow miraculously win, you can’t just flick a switch in people’s minds! Nobody is going to suddenly accept intermix into the fold!”

“You think I don’t know that?” he shouts. “But it’s worth a shot! Every revolution, every change in history starts somewhere! Why not with us? Nazirah, we’ve been lucky, if you can believe it. Most intermix don’t see adulthood, poverty is so rampant. You said you wanted to do something worthwhile, that you needed to do something worthwhile. What’s more worthwhile than this?”

“But –”

“I’m not done!” he snaps. “The Medis try to appear strong, Nazirah, because they are weak. It is our fear that keeps them in power, not much else. They are the minority. They spend all their money indulging in luxuries. Their troops are a very real issue, but they are not insurmountable. And we will never win with an attitude like yours.”

“And what happens to them?” she asks. “What do you plan on doing with an entire race of people?”

Niko hesitates. “That, I cannot say. Glumindo, Badoomi, and I disagree about what their fate should be. Like most rebels, the other Commanders believe the surviving Medis should be enslaved, shown exactly how we’ve suffered. But I am of a different opinion. I believe that the majority of Medis are innocent, blissfully ignorant about territory and intermix life. For centuries, they’ve been fed propaganda. They’ve grown up on it, grown fat on it. Why would they believe anything else?”

“Are you honestly justifying their actions?”

“I’m not justifying anything! But I try to understand their perspective. To me, punishing every Medi would mean going against the ideal the rebellion is founded on … that everyone is inherently equal. How could I knowingly commit an entire race to a lifetime of servitude, because of the actions of a few? That’s a death sentence I don’t want on my shoulders. I can only hope the others will see reason.”

“So what exactly do you want me to do?”

“If we are to do this, Nazirah,” Niko says, “I mean really do this … we need more support. We have a solid foundation, but it’s not enough. We need human resources and stronger alliances. A few well-meaning rebels will not win this war for us.”

“Just spit it out,” she says.

“We need you.”

Nazirah is baffled. “Me?” she asks. “What can I possibly do?”

“More than you probably know,” he responds. “I was wrong to send you to the Deathlands, thinking no one would recognize you. Everyone in the entire country, from Mediah to the most outlying territory, knows who you are. Everyone knows your face, your story, what happened to our parents.”