Prodigy

Page 41

I halt in my walk. “What?”
“Razor told us that the Colonies hired us to kill the Elector and start a revolution,” Kaede says. “But that’s not true. Found out on the day of the assassination that the Republic’s Senate is sponsoring the Patriots.” She shakes her head. “Do you believe that? The Republic hired the Patriots to assassinate Anden.”
I’m silent. Stunned. June’s words echo in my mind, how she’d told me that Congress dislikes their new Elector, how she thought Razor was lying. The things he’s told us don’t add up, she’d said.
“Blindsided all of us—except for Razor,” Kaede says when I don’t respond. We start walking again. “The Senators want Anden dead. They figured they could use us and pin the blame on us too.”
My blood is racing so fast I can barely hear myself speak. “Why would Razor sell out the Patriots like that? Hasn’t he been with them for a decade? And I thought Congress was trying not to cause a revolution.”
Kaede slumps her shoulders and lets out a breath of steam. “He got caught working for the Patriots a couple of years ago. So he made a deal with Congress: He leads the Patriots into killing Anden, the young revolutionary spitfire, and Congress forgets about his traitorous ties. At the end of it all, Razor gets to be the new Elector—and with you and June working for him, he comes off like the people’s hero or something. The public would think that the Patriots took over the government, when it’s really only the Republic all over again. Razor doesn’t want the United States to be restored—he just wants to preserve himself. And he’ll join whatever side’s most convenient to achieve that.”
I close my eyes. My world is spinning. Hadn’t June warned me about Razor? All this time, I’ve been working for the Republic’s Senators. They’re the ones who want Anden dead. No wonder the Colonies don’t seem to have any idea what the Patriots are up to. Then I open my eyes. “But they failed,” I say. “Anden is still alive.”
“Anden is still alive,” Kaede repeats. “Thankfully.”
I should have trusted June all along. My anger toward the young Elector shudders and trembles, grows weak. Does this mean . . . that he actually did release Eden? Is my brother free and safe? I study Kaede. “You came all the way here to tell me that?” I whisper.
“Yup. Know why?” She leans closer, until her nose is almost touching mine. “Anden is about to lose his grip on the country. The people are this close to revolting against him.” She holds two fingers close together. “If he falls, we’re gonna have a lot of trouble stopping Razor from taking over the Republic. Right now, Anden’s fighting for control of the military while Razor and Commander Jameson are trying to wrestle it away from him. The government’s about to split in two.”
“Wait—Commander Jameson?” I ask.
“There was a chat transcript recorded between her and Razor on that comp drive. Remember how we ran into her on board the RS Dynasty?” Kaede replies. “Razor made it sound like he had no idea she’d be there. But I think she totally recognized you. She must’ve wanted to see you with her own eyes. To know that you were truly a part of Razor’s plans.” Kaede grimaces. “I should’ve sensed something off about Razor. I was wrong about Anden too.”
“Why do you care what happens to the Republic?” I say. The wind whips snow flurries up from the street, echoing the coldness in my words. “And why now?”
“I was in it for the money—I admit that.” Kaede shakes her head and sets her mouth in a tight line. “But first of all—I didn’t get paid, because the plan didn’t go off. Second, I didn’t sign up to destroy the country, to hand all the Republic’s civilians right back to another goddy Elector.” Then she trails off a little, and her eyes go misty. “I don’t know . . . maybe I was hoping that the Patriots could give me a nobler goal than making money. Joining these two cracked nations back together. That would’ve been nice.”
The winter wind stings my face. Kaede doesn’t need to tell me why she came all the way here to get me. After hearing this, I know why. I remember what Tess said to me back in Lamar. They’re all looking to you, Day. They’re waiting for your next move. I might be the only person who can save Anden now. I am the only person that the Republic’s people will listen to.
We fall silent and sink farther into the shadows as a pair of Colonies police guards rush by. Snow flies underneath their boots. I watch until they disappear down the last alley we’d come through. Where are they going?
When Kaede just continues walking with her scarf covering her mouth again, I say, “What about the Colonies?”
“What about them?” she mutters through fabric.
“What about letting the Republic collapse and the Colonies take over? What about that idea?”
“It was never about letting the Colonies win. The Patriots are about re-creating the United States. However that can be accomplished.” Kaede pauses, then motions for us to turn down a different street. We walk two more blocks before she stops us in front of an enormous row of dilapidated buildings.
“What’s this?” I ask Kaede, but she doesn’t respond. I turn back to the building in front of me. It’s about thirty or so stories tall, but stretches unbroken for several city blocks. Every few dozen yards, tiny, dark entrances are carved into the compound’s bottom floor. Water drips from the sides, from windows and decaying balconies, carving ugly lines of fungus into the walls. The structure stretches on down the street from where we stand—from the sky it must look like a gigantic black cinder block.
I gape at it. After seeing the lights of the Colonies’ skyscrapers, it’s shocking to know that a building like this exists over here. I’ve seen abandoned Republic complexes that look better than this. The windows and corridors are squeezed so closely together that no light could possibly get down to the bottom. I peer inside one of the black entrances.
Darkness, nothing. The sound of dripping water and faint footsteps echoes from inside. Now and then, I see a flickering light go by, as if someone’s in there with a lantern. I peer up at the higher floors. Most of the windows are cracked and shattered, or missing altogether. Some of them have plastic taped across the opening. Old pots on the balconies catch dripping water, and several have lines of tattered clothing hanging off the ledges. There must be people living in there. But the thought makes me shiver. I look back once at the glittering skyscrapers on the block right behind us, then forward at this rotting cement structure.
A commotion at the end of the street catches our attention. I tear my eyes away from the compound. A block down, there’s a middle-aged woman in men’s boots and a shabby coat pleading at the top of her lungs with a pair of men dressed in heavy plastic gear. Both have clear visors covering their faces and large, wide-brimmed hats on their heads.
“Watch,” Kaede whispers. Then she drags us into one of the dark entrances between two doors on the compound’s ground level. We lean our heads slightly so that we can hear what’s going on. Even though they’re fairly far away, the woman’s voice carries clearly across the quiet, icy air.
“—just missed one payment this year,” the woman’s saying. “I can run to the bank first thing in the morning and give you as many Notes as I have—”
One of the men interrupts her. “DesCon policy, ma’am. We cannot investigate crimes for customers who have been delinquent on payments to their local police.”
The woman is in tears, wringing her hands so hard that I feel like she’s going to rub her skin right off. “There must be something you can do,” she says. “Something I can give you or another police department I—”
The second man shakes his head. “All police departments share DesCon’s policy. Who’s your employer?”
“Cloud Corp,” the woman says hopefully. As if this info might persuade them to help her.
“Cloud Corp discourages its workers from being out past eleven P.M.” He nods up at the compound. “If you don’t return to your home, DesCon Corp will report you to Cloud and you might lose your job.”
“But they’ve stolen everything I have!” The woman breaks into loud sobs. “My door is completely—completely bashed in—all of my food and clothes are gone. The men who did it live on my floor—if you please come with me, you can catch them—I know which apartment they live in—”
The two men have already started walking away. The woman scampers behind them, begging for help, even as they keep ignoring her.
“But my home—if you don’t do something—how will I—” she keeps saying. The men repeat their warnings to report her.
After they’re gone, I turn back to Kaede. “What was that?”
“Wasn’t it obvious?” Kaede replies sarcastically as we step out from the building’s darkness and back into the street.
We’re quiet. Finally, Kaede says, “The working class gets shafted everywhere, don’t they? My point is this: The Colonies are better than the Republic in some ways. But believe it or not, the reverse is also true. No such thing as the stupid utopia you’ve been fantasizing about, Day. Doesn’t exist. There was no point trying to tell you that before. It’s just something you had to see for yourself.”
We start heading back to the hospital. Two more Colonies soldiers hurry past us, neither of them bothering to take us in. A million thoughts whirl through my head. My father must never have set foot inside the Colonies—or if he did, he only skimmed the surface of it, the way June and I had when we first arrived. A lump rises in my throat.
“Do you trust Anden?” I say after a moment. “Is he worth saving? Is the Republic worth saving?”
Kaede makes several more turns. Finally, she stops next to a shop with miniature screens in its window, each one broadcasting different Colonies programming. Kaede guides us into the store’s tiny side street, where the darkness of the night swallows us. She pauses to motion at the broadcasting screens inside the store. I remember passing a shop like this on our way into the city. “The Colonies always show news snatched from Republic airwaves,” she says. “They have a whole channel for it. This news bite has been on repeat ever since the failed assassination.”
My eyes wander over to the headlines on the monitor. At first I just stare blankly, lost in my churning thoughts about the Patriots, but a moment later I realize that the broadcast isn’t about warfront skirmishes or Colonies news, but about the Republic’s Elector. A surge of dislike instinctively courses through me at the sight of Anden on the screen. I strain to hear the newscast, wondering how differently the Colonies would interpret the same events.
A caption runs under Anden’s recorded address. I read it in disbelief.
ELECTOR FREES YOUNGER BROTHER OF NOTORIOUS REBEL “DAY”; TO ADDRESS PUBLIC TOMORROW FROM CAPITOL TOWER.