The Four Kings (27 page)

“I know all that,” Amanda said, “I spent hours studying your reports over the past one year.”

“Yes, I know you know, Amanda. But it needs to be said. I wanted you to get a feel for who we are and what our goals are.”

Amanda shook her head. “You don’t need to convince me. The bravery you showed when you were kidnapped by the Patriots was impressive.”

Bafia’s eyes flashed anger briefly. “The Patriots are a very destructive and hostile organization. They don’t reason; they only issue demands. And frankly, their approach is making things a lot worse.”

Adam said, “Amanda, you may not realize this, but overnight the Patriots claimed they had signed up millions of new members.”

Maggie added, “They’re even talking of running Jake Faulkner for President, when the wizards leave.”

A look of utter disgust came over Amanda’s face. “Too bad he didn’t die in the battle.” Almost immediately, she regretted her choice of words. “Sorry. That was rude.”

Trevor nodded and held his hand up. “I know exactly what you mean. Many times I’ve wished I could lay a hand on that bloody bastard.” He drew in his lips. “But we have to deal with him as a democracy. He’s becoming more popular now. I can’t imagine what provoked these wizards to engage in that idiotic battle with the Patriots.”

A worried Bafia agreed. “Their first big mistake. A huge, huge mistake. It won’t be their last.” She turned to Amanda. “That’s where you come in. The Liberators will be grovelling for you now. You have the upper hand.”

Amanda was amazed. “They like me that much?”

Maggie exclaimed and rocked her head around as if trying to make a point very obvious. “Oh, you’ve no idea. The way they look at you when you speak. When you introduce motions and conduct debates.”

Adam interjected, “Look, Amanda, you never see yourself on TV, but we know. We see it all. We see the vibes, we see the personalities.”

“Even Indie respects you greatly,” Trevor said.

Amanda blushed. She had thought of all this before, of course. But it was another thing for her family to confirm all this, out loud. She felt immensely proud of herself.

“So,” she asked Bafia, “Partners with Liberators is going to continue to stick with the wizards?”

“Yes, but we’re going to work out our conditions. We’re going to discuss that now.”

Amanda laughed. “The wizards won’t accept anything dictated to them. It’s not in their nature. They’re
wizards
.” She immediately thought of the statue of Elsedor, safely ensconced within Emerana.

Adam cautioned, “Oh, wait and see. They will.”

Trevor spoke in a commanding voice to alert the others to a change of topic. “All right now, we’re going to pool information.” He held up a recording device. “I’m going to tape all of this. We’re going to talk about what we know now about the Liberators. We’re going to make copies and share privately between key executives of the Partners with Liberators.”

Adam burst out, “So if you die someday, Amanda–”

Trevor shushed Adam with a ferocious glance. “No one’s going to die. This is just for common sense. We’re going to have a database, a treasure trove if you will, of strategic value about the Liberators. Every enemy has a weakness.”

“Well,” Amanda said tactfully as she composed her thoughts, “there’s about one year, six months left. We’re halfway through. For all we know, the wizards could walk away tomorrow. Or they could concede power the very last minute of the third year of their rule, as they said they would.”

All the people around the table scoffed. Amanda recalled the smirk on Demus’ face when he wistfully talked about Elsedor craving wizard rule over Mortals. “You’re right. Let’s begin.”

“So you’ll take your job back?” Adam prodded.

“Yes,” Amanda said firmly, “but make them crawl first.”

All nodded their approval.

“When you go back,” Maggie pointed her finger at Amanda, “You need to find out more. That new information could be very valuable someday.”

“I’ve started the recording,” Trevor said, “Tell us all you know. Everything.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Wearing a disguise of a wide-brimmed red leather-woven fedora and dark sunglasses, Amanda reflected upon her recent meeting with her family and the head of the Liberators support group.

She was en route to Chinatown on the Muni Metro subway in San Francisco. She badly needed a day off from her ever-constant, relentless duties as Supreme Liaison for an entire continent. A soak in a hot bath and a nice, long nap would be perfect just right now. She grinned at their reactions to her dalliances with Regi and Demus, especially Adam, who seemed jealous.

All of a sudden, Justica materialized beside her inside the subway train.

The effect upon the nearby commuters was immediate. These two were among the most famous celebrities on the planet. People who sat next to Amanda gasped and backed away, unable to keep their eyes off the wizard. Others far down the corridor of the train car became eager and assembled closer, their eyes glued to the scene. Totally oblivious to the magical spectacle now taking place, the subway train hummed on, jerking back and forth a bit in a swaying motion, speeding.

Amanda, terse but weary, glanced at the dozens of eyes peering at her. “How did you find me?” she hissed at Justica, angry that her cover had been blown.

Justica continued her calm demeanour. “It was difficult. We had to contact your family, then the people at your university.”

Justica did not finish speaking, but was aware of a businessman determined to assault her with his briefcase. Out of the corner of her eyes, she conjured up a magic wall of clear thick plastic, forming an immediate barrier. Unable to stop himself in time, the man brought the briefcase smashing against the formidable wall. Horrified, he fell on the subway floor among the feet of startled bystanders.

Justica didn’t skip a beat. She zapped up another barrier, for protection against the crowd on the other side of the subway car. The bystanders could hear nothing.

“Now that I’ve found you, you’re requested to appear before the Liberators.”

Amanda played her bluff. “I’ve resigned. I no longer have duties.”

Justica grasped Amanda on her arm. “You have to understand. You not only were our liaison, you were also our friend and trusted colleague. We did not accept your resignation. You must come back. We want you back.”

“What?”

“Please say yes.” Justica increased her pressure on Amanda’s arm as she pled with her eyes. “We love you.”

Amanda started to respond, but it was too late. In a fraction of a second, both women vanished from the subway car, as dozens of onlookers gaped in shock.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Indie, glowering at the assembly before her, was ready the second Amanda materialized in front of the wizards’ council, alongside Justica.

“Amanda,” she said icily, “Why makes you think you can resign?”

Whoa. Not even a greeting or a hello?
Amanda looked at the screens around them all. They were still feeding in all the images to millions of Mortals. She knew she had to keep herself composed.

“I resigned,” Amanda stated confidently and with a touch of defiance, “because against the wishes of millions of my fellow subjects, the Mortals as you describe them, you waged a totally unnecessary and unprovoked battle. Reports confirm over one hundred people died due to your actions.”

“It wasn’t unprovoked!” Indie yelled, standing up quickly. “The Patriots Everywhere United, led in North America by the traitor Jake Faulkner, issued a call to arms.”

“Which you didn’t have to respond to,” Regi spoke out, in a calm and controlled voice.

Amanda understood. It was all an act. Indie would be the bad girl, and Regi the good guy. Demus, as the one who caused the missiles to explode among the Patriots, was undeniably in a weakened position to respond internationally to the accusations. His mood soured into a very dark void. He was slouching, leaning forward. His eyes betrayed contempt. Instantly, Amanda recalled why she could never trust Demus.

Indie stood tall, playing her part, “Upon reflection, I suppose I could’ve ignored the obstructive incitement. I should’ve left the Patriots to play war games among themselves.”

“Indie,” Regi pleaded, his eyes sad and his arms stretched out, hamming up his role, “surely you can see fit to apologize to the millions of residents of North America under our rule?”

Indie rolled her eyes and pretended to have a change of heart. “Since you put it that way so convincingly, Regi, very well, I’ll do it.” The screens all filled with Indie’s serious, but sincere visage, her eyes boring into the consciousness of every viewer’s soul. “To all Mortals,” she said breathlessly, “I am sorry about the unnecessary deaths. I take full responsibility and I hope you can forgive us. I know Amanda was totally opposed to us going into battle.”

Indie pointed to the screens, and images of Amanda crying as she watched the battle, moaning “Noooo!” replayed over and over.

The undeclared leader of the wizards took over on the screens once again. “I hope we can move forward with our economic and political reforms, and unite together to a yet unimagined prosperity.” She turned to Amanda. “Amanda, you’ve been a most effective ambassador for the Mortals and without your dedication, knowledge, and experience, the connection between us and your people will suffer, thus leading to less effective reforms. While your resignation’s not effective until we accept it, I ask you: can you find it in your heart to fully dedicate yourself to your people in this role?”

Amanda stood there.
Remember. Make them sweat. Don’t let them guess your intentions
.
But don’t humiliate them either. Take a little bit, give them a little bit.

She crossed her arms. “First, I would like the Liberators to do more outreach to our people. I would like you all to do more listening.”

Justica spoke out, “For goodness sake, we have Petition Days all the time to –”

But Indie held her hand up to silence her. Indie smiled sweetly. “Of course, Amanda. We’re reasonable individuals. If you have ideas for more effective governance, we’d be happy to incorporate them.”

Amanda held firm. “I want you four to confirm that at the end of the original three year term, you all will step down and allow our citizens to govern as before.”

All four wizards looked at each other; these sideways glances were all captured on national television. Indie’s eyes momentarily flickered, but she composed herself. “We’ve said that from the very beginning, we say it now, and we’ll say it at the end. We will resign as planned.” She held her hands out in Amanda’s direction. “Now will you come back to us?”

Amanda hesitated, and then grinned. “I’m in.”

The wizards whooped and hollered. One by one, they materialized beside Amanda, all captured live on television, and gave her a hearty hug. Even Demus seemed to perk up when he quickly kissed her on the cheek.

As Indie re-materialized at her seat, she slyly said to Amanda. “We have a special treat for you.”

“Which is?”

“We’ve scheduled a special Debate Day on the merits and drawbacks of Ayn Rand’s most famous two books,
Atlas Shrugged
and
The Fountainhead
.”

Amanda grinned.
Her heart beat rapidly in excitement. She visualized herself leading off with several articulate arguments about the philosophical discourses of her idol.

Now, now.

No. Patience
.

“I can’t wait,” she said.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

One year, seven months post-Liberation

Alone in the Liberators’ Headquarters, where she often met alone with them to debrief and to discuss strategy and program results, Amanda’s thoughts kept drifting to Regi’s handsome features – his square face, jet black hair, and wide grin. She kept visualizing him as a football player, with wide shoulder pads, a helmet with a visor. Then, he’d take off his helmet to reveal tussled hair glistening with sweat, and then remove his team jersey shirt. He’d push off his shoulder pads, emitting a masculine grunt as he did so. Her imagination didn’t stop there. She visualized him in the locker room, heading toward the showers. He’d strip off his football outfit, not checking as to whom would be watching him, one garment at a time into a heap onto the locker room bench, until…

She snapped out of her daydream. A huge skylight thirty yards above, in the shape of a four-point star, filtered in light directly upon her.

Regi would be “arriving” in a few minutes – via magic, of course. For heaven’s sake, she had to be well-prepared as usual, and not derail herself. Not to waste time on daydreams.

She grimaced at the reports she had prepared with her dozens of economic advisors. Thank heavens; she had been able to recruit replacements for the hundreds who had resigned due to the wizards’ ridiculous diversion on Osborne’s Farm. She’d managed to talk some of them to voluntarily return to work and rescind their resignations after they’d seen that moving moment on public television where Amanda was begged to return to her role.

The gist of the reports showed something fundamentally wrong. She frantically had checked, double-checked, and triple-checked the figures. They didn’t lie.

After one and a half years of explosive growth, the continental economy was now spiralling into a new recession
. This looked bad
. All vital signs were down, down. Unemployment skyrocketed up as the millions of laid-off government workers all added up to a critical mass. Productivity, after five quarters of incredible, eye-popping ascent, had levelled off. As the economy fully adjusted to the revolutionary bitcoin currency, the gross domestic product had skydived. Moreover, swaths of several cities continued to burn, as millions of newly enlisted Patriots, their passions inflamed by the botched Battle of Osborne’s Farm, had taken to civil disobedience against the Liberators.

Amanda’s pulse quickened and she felt the veins in her neck bulged. The Liberators were going to be most displeased – even disbelieving – of these new statistics. And Regi was going to appear any minute now.