“Well, I suggest she try a little harder. Because if the broadcasts continue, I will employ my own methods of ending them. In the meantime, I demand that you cease all work on the Bruelim case. I will not frighten the people of Capernica with far-fetched tales of abduction, enslavement, and rape. If you do not, I will personally shut down Axis on the grounds of insubordination and inciting revolution. Am I clear?”
Willoughby removes his glasses and sets them on the table. “Perfectly.”
The governor rises, ignoring Caedmon, Captain Chase, and Colonel Padrillo altogether, but her eyes rove over Willoughby and Ethan then linger again on me.
“Very good. Then we understand one another.”
TWO
Ethan and I land at the Epson City airfield three hours later and take an autopod to a nearby burger joint. Before leaving, we both traded our uniforms for clothing that won’t stand out in a crowd.
“Where did Jewel say she’d meet us?” Ethan asks as we take our meals to an outdoor table. Epson City is farther south and at a lower elevation than Axis headquarters. The sunshine feels downright pleasant.
I give him the coordinates and he punches them into his holoband. “She said it’s a parking garage on two major crossroads. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find.”
The location pops up on Ethan’s holomap. “It’s in the Warrens,” he says. “Not far from the fire damage. Must be she wants to show us around.”
“I wanted to see it for myself anyway.”
“We’ve got an hour. Shall we walk it?”
I agree and bite off the end of a french fry. “Ethan, why is Macron so afraid of Jewel?”
“She sees her as a threat.”
“But why? Jewel just wants the Lowers to have the same rights as the other castes. That seems fair to me.”
“Macron doesn’t want to change the rules.”
“It wouldn’t hurt her to ease up on some of the restrictions. It’s been forty-seven years. Most of them don’t serve a purpose anymore.”
“She won’t. It’s the caste structure that gives Macron her power.”
I frown. “How?”
Ethan sets his burger down and wipes his mouth with a paper napkin. “You see, the Uppers are very pleased with the system. They’re Macron’s greatest supporters. And the Middles don’t have it so bad that they can’t also be appeased. That leaves only the Lowers who are unhappy. But someone has to be on the bottom for someone else to be on top, right? So the Military was created to keep them in place. It’s worked for forty-seven years. Macron isn’t about to upset her balance of power now.”
I ponder this for a moment. “I’m not sure Governor Macron realizes how angry the Lowers are. How quickly this could spread to the other cities.”
“I think she understands exactly. That’s why she’s acting so quickly to quell it. The Lowers are the largest dynamic in Capernican society. Macron is terrified of waking that beast. If Jewel and Berg don’t stand down, I have a feeling they’re going to incur some very harsh reprisals.”
His prediction makes the back of my neck tingle.
We finish our meal and stroll toward the old district, carrying our drinks with us. Our route takes us down some of the streets we jogged during our undercover assignment, and my thoughts turn back to the faces and events of that week. My cross country team—the season should be finishing up in another week or two. The afternoon I spent playing Galaxy Quest with the gaming club. My stomach twists as I think of Emerson Price, whom I associate with both memories. I try not to think of him lying broken on the valley battlefield only days ago. There’s still too much personal failure wrapped up in that image. And of course I think of Markay.
Has she heard that Emerson is dead? She must know by now that he was the one who kidnapped her. I can only imagine her confusion. Her heartache. A years-long friendship and a new romance turned so terribly wrong. And I wonder if she has put me together with any of it. Jewel said she never mentioned my name the night we rescued the girls from the Chemistrad plant, but Markay’s no fool. She would have heard my description from the other victims. And when I never showed up at school again, she would have held suspicions. But no matter what she has heard, no matter what she guesses, she can’t possibly understand the reason behind those kidnappings. No one outside of Axis does.
I wonder if Markay would speak to me if I approached her.
Ethan is silent as we walk. I’m grateful. He can probably deduce my thoughts by the emotions playing out on my face. Just once he reaches out to sift my ponytail through his fingers, perhaps reliving memories of his own. But as we near the edge of the new city and the fire-damaged Warrens come into view, everything else falls away.
My hand rises to my mouth. On one side of the road are new glass and steel skyscrapers without even a hint of soot. On the other, complete destruction. The Warrens never looked inviting. Every structure was at least seventy years old and fallen into disrepair. But where their solid bulk once stood, now only blackened skeletons remain. The buildings are so flattened for such a distance that for the first time I notice the rise of mountains on the horizon, gray and hazy. Their beauty makes the wreckage that much more hideous.
We pick our way down the boulevard, over twisted beams and concrete rubble. Many of the buildings have collapsed into the road. Ash coats our clothing and sifts into our lungs. I wonder what happened to the people who once made their homes here. Family structures are fluid in the Warrens, owing to the too-short lifespans of so many of their members. Have the displaced reconfigured into new spaces, new family groups? I try not to think about those who didn’t survive.
We reach the parking garage ten minutes early. Jewel is already there, along with her brother Berg and his wife Tricia. Berg’s an imposing man, thick-bodied, with bleached hair and a ring in his nose. He often lets Jewel take the lead when I’m around because she and I have a prior connection through school. Tricia looks much healthier than the last time I saw her. Better fed and less worn down. Her hair, now that it’s not matted to her head, falls in a blunt spiral. Short on one side of her face and long on the other. All three of them wear the heavy boots, blackened eyes, and dark clothing characteristic of the Lowers.
Jewel steps forward. She seldom smiles and doesn’t make us feel welcome today. Even though she knows I’m a Lower, as part of Axis I give off the air of the upper castes. And there’s no disguising the fact that Ethan is every inch Military. By rescuing Tricia from the Chemistrad plant, we established a measure of trust. But that connection is tentative at best.
“What’s so important that you couldn’t tell me in a holocall?” Jewel asks.
“We thought this subject would be better dealt with in person,” I answer.
She taps her foot. “Daylight’s wasting.”
I suddenly realize it’s only two in the afternoon. “Jewel, why aren’t you at school?”
She shrugs. “I dropped out.”
“I thought you were trying to do well on the Exit Exam. You were studying for it.”
“I found something else I want more. Now what’s this about?”
I press my lips together in disappointment. Jewel has so much potential that will be wasted here in the Warrens. But I see she’s in no mood for a lecture. “Governor Macron visited us this morning.”
Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “The two of you are in with Macron?”
“No,” I say firmly. “I’d never met her before, and I hope I never do again. She’s not very pleasant.”
This actually makes Jewel laugh.
“Despite our best efforts, she found out we were on-site during the Chemistrad fire. She reprimanded our boss for it. And in the course of their discussion, she brought up your holo-net posts. She’s not very happy.”
“I’ll bet she’s not.” Jewel looks almost gleeful. My understatement gets a chuckle out of Berg and Tricia as well.
“Ethan and I have been asked to strongly discourage you from making further posts.”
“
That’s why you’re here?” Jewel’s smile disintegrates into disgust. “Macron sent you to shut me up?”
I knew this would raise her hackles. I struggle to make her understand the seriousness of the situation. “Jewel, we’re worried about what could happen if you keep provoking her.”
“You can go right back to the governor and tell her I’m getting exactly the response I hoped for.”
Ethan steps forward. “I don’t think you realize the kind of danger you’re placing your people in. Macron has the full power of the Military behind her and she will not hesitate to use it.”
“So you think I should go back to being a silent little gutter rat just because the bully on the block wants me to?” Her chin lifts defiantly. “Someone’s got to stand up to the bully.”
“And you think you can do it? You think the Lowers can withstand the kind of firepower she’ll bring? I came up through the Military. I’ve seen the weapons she has at her disposal.”
Berg stands beside Jewel to lend his support. “There are a lot more of us than there are of them.”
“And you will sacrifice your people by the droves. You thought the destruction was terrible during the fire? Wait till Macron comes with bombers and tanks. There will be nothing left.”
Berg and Jewel stand with arms crossed, unmoved.
I push Ethan aside. “Jewel, even if you could fight her, your timing couldn’t be worse. The kidnapping case is so much bigger than we thought. And now Macron is threatening to shut us down too. It is absolutely vital that our work continues. I’m asking you, I’m begging you, to let this blow over.”
Jewel squints at me doubtfully. “Macron would shut you down because of me?”
I hesitate. “She has other reasons. But our connection hasn’t helped.”
“What exactly do you two do?”
I catch Ethan’s eyes. He gives me a barely perceptible shake of his head. I’ve already said too much. After the governor left this morning, every single person in the conference room sat in stunned disbelief. It’s possible the others have been frightened off the case, but I know instinctively that Ethan will continue pursuing it despite Macron’s warning, and the fewer people who know, the less chance it will get back to her. “I can’t tell you. But this case affects the entire nation, Lowers, Middles, and Uppers.”
“Then why don’t you stand up to her?”
I bite my lip. How can I possibly make Jewel comprehend the dynamics at work here?
Ethan steps in again. “We have reliable intelligence that we’re dealing with a foreign enemy and a possible invasion. I can’t overstate how important it is that our work continue.”
A suspicious gleam comes to Jewel’s eyes. “Then why isn’t Macron pouring money and manpower into this?”
“I can’t tell you that, either. But we cannot afford to be divided among ourselves. Your campaign has the potential to pit the castes against one another, and conflict at this point could be disastrous, no matter which side won.”
“So I should be the one to stand down?” Jewel studies him with disdain before exchanging skeptical glances with Berg and Trisha. “Sounds like a lot of hogwash to me.”
“Just what I was thinking,” Berg agrees. “You can tell the governor we’ve had enough of her and the garbage heap she keeps us in, and we intend to change it.”
I can see Ethan’s fists knotting and releasing. His voice cracks under the strain of holding in his temper. “You don’t understand—” he begins, but Jewel blows up first.
“No, Ethan. You’re the one who doesn’t understand.” She pushes right up to his chest, finger wagging. “You’ve been given everything all your life. You have no idea what it’s like to scrabble for food, for heat, for shelter. To have no one care if you live or if you die. We understand the cost and we’re willing to pay it. We’re tired of being disposable.”
I dig my fingernails into my hands. Her spirit inspires me. But I can see how much deeper this threat runs. “Please, please trust us, Jewel. We have to pull together to—”
“Trust you?” Jewel interrupts with a snort. “Honey, trust is a two-way street. When you trust me, maybe I’ll trust you.” She jerks her head at her brother. “Come on, Berg. We’re leaving.”
Ethan turns his back on the retreating Lowers and stares out the opposite side of the garage with his hands on his hips. I watch Jewel leave with a terrible sense of unbalance, like an elevator has just dropped me too fast from too many floors up. “Ethan, maybe we should tell them everything. Make them understand.”
His jaw thrusts forward. “Do you really think they’ll believe us?”
“It’s worth a shot. If they don’t stop, a lot of people are going to get hurt.”
“I remember mentioning something to that effect,” he snaps. “They’re in no mood to listen.”
And Ethan, I can tell, is in no mood to give ground.
“Besides, Axis doesn’t work that way,” he adds. “We’ve accomplished so much because we stay out of the public eye.”
“They already have a good idea of who we are,” I counter. “We represent the authorities to them. The privileged. They have plenty of reasons not to believe us. If we could show them, prove to them that we’re trustworthy…”
“I believe we did that the night of the fire.” He takes my arm and directs me back toward the street. “We can’t make them do anything, Jack. The best we can hope for now is to distance ourselves.”
I bite my lip. He’s forgotten again that I am a Lower. That I’m inherently part of this. I felt every word Jewel shouted at us. “I’m not sure if I can do that.”
He sighs. “Look, Jack, you said yourself this is about more than caste. We tried. But we can’t afford to get sidetracked. If the Bruelim decide to act, this little protest will mean absolutely nothing.”
I feel a strong urge to run after Jewel and force the issue, but I know it will only solidify her stubbornness. Instead, I let Ethan guide me through the parking garage. Maybe Jewel will be more receptive in a holocall later. “All right. But I’d like to talk to Markay before we leave.”
He glances at his holoband. “School doesn’t end for another forty minutes. Then she has practice.”
“Please, Ethan? I can catch her before she runs.”
He considers, one corner of his mouth angled down. “I guess I could take my work to a coffee shop for a while.”
“Thank you.”
We walk side by side until the debris in the street forces us apart. A block inside the new city, we part ways. “I’ll meet you at the airport in two hours,” Ethan says.
Instead of calling in an autopod, I make my way to the school on foot. The roads in this part of town are familiar, though autumn has garbed them in different colors. I pass the burger joint where we ate lunch, turn onto the next main road, and follow it nearly a mile before it crosses the quiet street on which the high school sits. I pause at the corner.
The last time I stood here, I was trying desperately to keep Emerson’s autopod in sight as I waited for Ethan to join me. There, halfway to the school, is the exact spot where Emerson drugged Markay and threw her in the vehicle. It feels like forever ago, and yet there’s the sensation that no time has passed at all.
As I near the school, the bell rings and students begin pouring out the front door. I circle around back. I won’t be able to avoid all recognition, but hopefully I can miss most of it. The fewer questions I need to answer, the better. I enter through the back and stop outside the girls’ locker room where I wait, head down and arms crossed, hoping Markay will be the first one to reach it. She’s not.
“Jack?”
I look up to find one of my old teammates studying me from a few feet away. “Hey, Pepper.” I give her a polite smile.
“Why didn’t you come back to school?”
I shrug. “It’s complicated.”
“The team could have used you.”
“Did you have a good season?”
“We have two meets left. We s
hould finish third in the conference.”
“That’s not bad.” I pause. “Pepper, is Markay here?”
She glances down the hall before answering. “Yeah.”
I catch her hesitation. “Is she—has she been okay?”
She bites the inside of her lip. “You better ask her. Here she comes.”
I see her far down the hall in a group of prattling teammates. She looks just like I remember, minus the smile that always sprang so quickly to her face. The chatter dies away as the group draws near and the girls catch sight of me.
“Hi, Markay. Can I talk to you a minute?” I ask.
Her eyes lack the warmth they once held. They rest on me as if I’m a stranger, which actually, I am.
Pepper urges the other girls into the locker room. “I’ll cover for you, Markay,” she promises and disappears after them.
Markay hasn’t moved a muscle.
“Please?” I try again. “I’ll only take a minute. There are some things I need to tell you.”
She finally relents with an indifferent shrug. “Yeah. Whatever.”
My stomach in knots, I lead her out the door and around the corner where we will have a clear view of anyone approaching. I don’t want to be overheard. “Markay, I want to talk to you about Emerson.”
Sorrow flickers in her eyes. Then they narrow, glinting with suspicion. “Who are you, really? An undercover Greencoat?”
“I’m not a Greencoat.”
“You were the girl at the fire, weren’t you? The one who got us out?”
I nod.
Her manner remains distant. “I suppose I should thank you for it. But I can’t piece together any of this. The Greencoats, the Military officers, the doctors…no one will tell us anything. What were you doing at school? Did you know Emerson was going to go crazy?”
I hesitate, not sure how much I should reveal.
“Just tell me if he’s alive.”
Recompense (Recompense, book 1) Page 34