Sovereign (Sovereign Series) (34 page)

“And
who are you to say this?  No one can speak for what happens inside those
borders.”  A woman this time.

“We
lived there.  I did for ten years, he did for seventeen.”  Gasps all around.

Henry
speaks up.  “We have declared these two as non-threats, and they will be
treated as such.”  The members acknowledge him with a nod.

“Why
should we be concerned with the citizens of Antius?  What makes you think they
want to be rescued?”

“They
might not.”  They murmur and shake their heads.  I speak over them, louder. 
“They might not want to because they don’t know any better.  The children are
taught there is nowhere else to go, and until recently, even the two of us
believed no one else survived the war except savages.  The adults seem to know
more, but they are so medicated they don’t care.  If they are content, it’s by
a false sense of security, and the fear tactics of a ruthless leader.”  

“What
else can you tell us about them?  How do they live?”

“Every
person has a function, based on testing and aptitudes.  If a person fails to
meet an aptitude, they are disposed of.”

“Killed? 
Their own people?”

“Yes,”
Dylan answers, and everyone’s eyes shift to him.  “Invasive surgeries,
mind-altering drugs, and unethical experimentation.  And yes, many are killed. 
Also, the women are bred like animals, so the population grows despite the
losses.”

“Disgusting,”
a lady says.  I realize a moment later that it was Karen.

“How
about security and military?  If we risk our military resources for these
people, we should know what we’re up against.”

Dylan
answers first.  “Their technology is very advanced, and security is nearly
impenetrable.”  More murmurs, some scoffs.  “But I am an expert in their
technology, so I can assist with the breach.”

Deep
breaths, and people shift their weight.  A few whispers.  I look back at my
father, and he smiles grimly.

I
answer next.  “The military is ruthlessly trained in weaponry and combat.  They
are not as heavily medicated as civilians, and they are killers.  I believe
you’ve seen the effects of this in previous encounters.”  I hate to dig up the
wounds of the recent convoy slaughter, but I want them to take this
personally.  It is personal, to them, to us, and to the kids we grew up with in
Antius. 

“We
will be met with resistance,” my father says.  “But we intend to make our
primary target a specific building that houses minors.  Innocent life is
something worth fighting for, and we believe this mission is worth the risk.” 

“This
is the stance of Mercy?” A black-headed man asks.

“Yes,”
Karen and Henry agree.

“We
cannot launch an attack against them with the forces of Mercy alone.  They
outnumber us, and some of our best men were shot and killed by this very
colony.  We need your help.”  My dad thrusts his hands into his pockets.  He’s
so calm, but his expression is pleading.  There’s a passion in his eyes that
makes my heart beat faster, and I hold my head a little higher.  That’s my
father.  I’d follow him anywhere.

A
boy across the room wipes tears from his cheeks, and I realize I recognize
him.  That’s the boy that survived the ambush.  I lock eyes with him as he
wipes away another tear.  He looks away and clears his throat.

“We’ll
step out and let you deliberate.  Let us know if you have more questions.  With
Dylan’s knowledge of their technology and security measures, and Corinne’s
knowledge of their military, I am confident that we can launch an informed and
successful attack.  My opinion is shared by the leaders of Mercy.  Please
consider our stance in your decision.”  My father leads us to the door and we
step into the hallway along with Karen and Henry. 

“They
don’t like us.  This isn’t going to work,” I say as the door closes.  I don’t
think I gave a very convincing argument because I wouldn’t believe me.

“We’ve
done all we can.  We gave them the pertinent information.  Now we just hope
they’ll listen.”  Dad stuffs his hands in his pockets, but I can tell from the
way he furrows his brows and chews the inside of his lip that he’s worried.

Henry
scratches his head.  “Surely they’ll have compassion, even if they don’t care
about those Antius kids, they have to care about
our
loss.  Our men. 
Our friends.”  Even when he’s speaking from the heart, he’s deadpan.  I’m
certain this is why they chose him for interrogations.

We
wait in the common room by the kitchen.  Karen, Henry, and Dylan sit on sofas
while my father and I pace opposite sides of the room.  I chew on my thumbnail
until the cuticle bleeds, and I wipe it off on my pants. 

“Will
the two of you
please
sit down and relax?” Karen barks.  “You’re making
me antsy.” 

 I
look at my father and he grins.  We meet in the middle and sit together on a
sofa.  “Can’t you just make them do it?  Aren’t you in charge of this whole
place?”

“If
I make them, how am I any different than the man you despise?”

“We’ve
chosen never to act against the wishes of the majority of our leaders.  These
people are respected by us and by their respective colonies.  We trust them,
they trust us.  And we all respect your father for not forcing his opinions on
us.”  Henry admires my father, I can tell.  I do as well.

“And
I would not be their leader if I tried to.”

I
nod, understanding for the first time what freedom is.  It doesn’t mean being
on your own.  That’s only part of it.  Real freedom is living and loving with
people who mutually respect one another.  It’s living without fear.

I’ve
learned in two days that there are rules here, and those rules are honored, but
they are not meant to restrict the human nature in people.  They are simply
meant to protect the group as a whole. 

“We’d
like to speak with the girl,” a lady says.  I rise and grab Dylan’s hand. 
“Just you.”  She eyes our hands and I release Dylan.

I
walk beside her back to the meeting room with sweat cooling the back of my
neck.  There’s a knot in my throat so big I don’t think I’ll be able to speak
when called on.

“We
have a high regard for your father, however we understand his opinion may be
swayed because of his relationship with you.  Do you feel you have given him
all the information necessary to make an educated decision?”

“I
do.”

“Can
you tell us if you think this attack would be personal for you?”

I
lace my fingers together.  “Is it personal?”

“Is
this effort based on any type of revenge or hatred?  Are you asking us to act
based on a grudge?”

I
think of all the reasons Nathan deserves to fall.  All the reasons he deserves
to die.  I think of all the people he’s hurt, all the people he’s killed. 
People who died because of me, but I push the guilt away and keep my focus on
Nathan.  Twig.  Titus.  Alyssa.  And countless others.  I think of the men they
slaughtered in front of me.  “Absolutely.  It’s absolutely personal.”

They
huff, but I continue.  “Nathan Burke is a tyrant.  A monster who thinks he can
control a population--that people are as disposable as trade goods.  He’s the
man who orders the slaughter of anyone who won’t comply with his wishes.  He’s
the man who killed a boy who refused to hit me.  He’s the man who threatened
me, but couldn’t hurt me because his father protected me.  He’s the man who I
strongly believe killed his own father, so that protection would be gone.  He’s
the man who caused the deaths of my friends Titus and Alyssa.  And he’s the man
who left my father for dead and took me away from him.

“He
convinced me there was nothing left outside those borders, outside those
fences.  But I knew.  I knew you were out here.  I knew humanity couldn’t exist
without people who believed in justice.  I had to sneak around to read books
about people who fought for it, and I knew they had to still exist.”  I take a
deep breath to steady myself.  Everyone’s faces blur together. 

“I
believe children should play, and women should not be violated because it’s
their civil duty to bear children.  I believe people should read poetry and admire
artwork.  I believe that people should be allowed to touch each other without
punishment.  That a fallen child should be embraced.  That people should
love
,
they should
feel
.  They shouldn’t be chemically
altered to behave like robots.  I believe that human touch shouldn’t repulse
me, and that I shouldn’t struggle to trust people, but both are true because of
Nathan.  I believe that I shouldn’t have spent countless childhood hours in
laboratories, under needles and lights.  I do not believe that a monster like
Nathan Burke deserves to
lead
anyone.  And I would very much like to see
him punished for his crimes.  So yes, this attack is very
personal
.”

I
turn for the door, afraid of their response.  I’ve never spoken so much in my
life.  Maybe all seventeen years combined.  When I reach the doorway, Dylan
stands there with my dad and the others.  I walk straight past them, trembling
and wondering how long they’ve been there. 

I
go back to the common room, shaking my hands and cracking my neck.  My palms
are so sweaty, wiping them off doesn’t seem to work.  Only Dylan follows me. 

I
face him with both my hands dangling at my sides.  A charming smile makes a
glorious return to his perfect face, making me forget where I am for a moment. 
He wraps his arms around my waist.  When he lifts me up, I wrap mine around his
neck.  “You were amazing.  Absolutely amazing.  I’m so proud of you.”  I close
my eyes and try to forget it, but it’s on replay in my head. 

He
sets me down and cups my face.  “Human touch repulses you, huh?”

“Not
yours.”  It’s true, his doesn’t. 

“Everyone
else?”  His thumbs graze my cheeks.

“I’m
working on it, but it’s still a little touch and go.”

He
starts to kiss me, but footsteps echo down the hall toward us.  He settles for
a peck on my forehead and pulls himself away, sitting down on a sofa right
before my father rounds the corner.

“What
did they say?”  Clenching my fists, I hold my breath, preparing for letdown. 
I’m just a stupid girl with a chip on her shoulder--that’s what they’ve seen in
me.  I’m sure I blew it.

“The
decision is subject to change, but they’ve decided to bring in their commanders
to meet with us.  If we can formulate a strategy each commander is comfortable
with, we will launch a mission.”

I
exhale and drop to my knees, burying my head between the sofa cushions and my
hands.  “Thank you.”  Tears prick my eyes and for the first time since we left
Antius, I genuinely want to return. 

I
think of my prison mate Pete, and of my caretaker Ginny, who distracted the
guards to help me escape.  Vance, who taught me to protect myself.  Dottie, who
fed me and Pete.  I remember all the innocent faces that sat across from me in
the Underage cafeteria over the years.  These are my family.  I never thought
I’d see them again.  It was stupid of me to think I could just walk away and
live on my own.  I no longer want to.

When
I look up, my dad is gone and Dylan rubs my back between my shoulder blades.

“I
can’t believe they listened.  I thought for sure...”

He
flashes a warm smile.  “This is what I love about you.”  Butterflies dance in
my belly and the word
love
bounces around in my skull.  “You don’t see
it, but there’s just something about you that people are drawn to.  People
believe in you.”

“What?  I’m nothing--”

“I
saw the way those kids in Antius looked up to you.  The way the caretakers
smirked after they had to scold you.  Even the guards liked you.  And I saw the
way The City people embraced you.”

“That’s
ridiculous.  They were looking at me like they wanted to kill me.”

“No,
I’m certain those dirty looks were meant for me.”

I
laugh.  “You might be right on that one.”

“I’m
right on all of them.  Even here.  Our story is completely ridiculous, but they
believe
you.  You give people hope, even when
they don’t want it.”

I
lay my head against his knee while he runs his fingers through my hair.  “I
like your hair down.”  I smile even though he can’t see my face.  Dylan slides
onto the floor and embraces me.  I press my face into his chest as he rocks
gently from side to side. 

His
chest rises with a breath, then a sound comes from his throat, though his lips
are closed.  His inflection changes rhythmically, up and down.  Some sounds
held out, some cut short.  I think he’s done this before when I was sleeping.

“What
is that?” I ask.

“It’s
music.”  He smiles and then makes more music with his voice.  I wonder if he
learned this from his mother.

Beautiful
.