by Brenda Hiatt
“Your turn.”
Brady clicks off his omni. “That was fast. I won’t take long either. You can watch the vid if you want.” He hands me the omni on his way to the bedroom.
I’m half-tempted to check his message history to see what he told Crevan Erc about me, but I resist. Flicking on the vidscreen, I click to the latest news on the feeds. As usual, the focus is mainly on the new Sovereign—which means today they’re talking about her visit to Hollydoon.
“Sovereign Emileia is expected momentarily and as you can see, Moya, the residents of Hollydoon have come out in force to hear her speak.” Gaynor, one of the lead reporters on the Nuathan News Network, sweeps a hand toward the packed village square. “Most of the villages she’s visited over the past few weeks have reacted just as enthusiastically, which has to be gratifying for her and her team, given the rocky path she had to Acclamation only two months ago.”
The camera pans across the crowd and I lean forward, trying to spot my parents and Adina. Is that them, off to the left? Before I’m sure, the camera switches back to Gaynor.
“It’s expected she’ll again focus on the recently-discovered power shortage and continue to press her campaign for—”
“Ready to go?” Brady’s voice cuts across the reporter’s, startling me.
“Oh. Um, sure.” I switch off the feed and scramble to my feet. “You were even quicker than I was.”
Grinning, he moves forward. “You want a snack before we leave? The meeting’s on the far side of Monaru and there’s no direct local zip. I don’t have much in the recombinator right now, but—”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t want to be late to my first meeting.”
He touches my shoulder lightly as he ushers me out of the apartment ahead of him. My heart speeds up a little but I’m sure—nearly sure—that’s only because I can’t wait to meet Crevan Erc in person and learn how I can help make Nuath better.
The Populist meeting is in an older section of Monaru only served by one local zip line. Half an hour and two local connections later, Brady and I are standing in front of a door in a big warehouse-type building that looks partly abandoned.
“Ready?” he asks, the amusement back in his eyes—probably because I haven’t stopped whispering excited questions the whole way here. The more he tells me about what the Populist movement hopes to accomplish, the more eager I am to be a part of it.
“Of course.” I resist a ridiculous urge to stick my tongue out at him. The last thing I want to do is remind him how much younger I am.
With a half-concealed grin, Brady touches the chime. To my surprise, Crevan Erc himself answers the door.
“Ah, Miss Morain,” he greets me with a smile. “Please come in.”
Crevan’s impassioned rhetoric always impressed me on the news feeds during the campaign. In person he positively radiates confidence and charisma, which explains how someone from the lowly Maintenance fine became the primary spokesman for the Populist party.
“Thank you for letting me come.” It takes all my self-control not to gush. “I hope there’ll be some way I can help your cause.”
“That is my hope as well, Miss Morain. Brady here tells me you were active in the Resistance last year?”
I nod eagerly. “I carried messages for them, too, when we traveled for caidpel. I…I like to think it made at least a little bit of a difference.”
“I have no doubt it did. Feel free to go in and join the others. We’ll begin as soon as the last few— Ah, here they come now.”
Three more people follow us inside and we all go into a large room that appears to be used for storage, judging by all the poly containers stacked in the corners. A dozen straight-backed poly chairs, similar to the ones in Brady’s apartment, form a rough circle in the middle of the room, most of them already filled. I notice the others are a lot older than me or even Brady. Though I feel a little out of place, I try to hide it, determined to make myself useful somehow.
“Thank you all for making the time to be here,” Crevan says once the last person is seated. “As we have two newcomers with us tonight, I’ll begin with a brief overview of the Populist Party’s goals and progress to date.”
He goes on to outline the main tenets of the movement, which include a restructuring of Nuath’s traditional government to allow truly equal representation for every citizen of Nuath, regardless of fine or status, something I thoroughly approve of.
“As the media is fond of pointing out, our goals are not dissimilar to those Faxon originally proclaimed before later perverting them into a naked power grab. We, on the other hand, sincerely do hope to improve conditions for all Nuathans. While we of course deplore Faxon’s atrocities against the Royal fine, his horrific depredations have provided us with a unique opportunity to bring about the very changes he, and a majority of our population, once clamored for.
“The Legislature is only now beginning to rebuild itself. Even small departures from its traditional composition could influence how Nuath is governed for generations to come. We must not let this opportunity pass! However, we must be cautious. Already we’ve seen how easily our good intentions can be misconstrued by the media. All of our hard-won support will quickly evaporate if we give them the slightest ammunition to portray us as secret Faxon sympathizers. That is why we cannot be too careful when it comes to admitting newcomers to this, our inner circle.”
I shoot Brady a startled glance, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He made it sound like this was just a regular gathering of people interested in the movement, not some highly restricted meeting for its leaders. How did he convince them to let me attend?
While I’m still puzzling over that, Crevan turns to the other newcomer, an older man. “Porter is already known to some of you. He has proven useful to our cause on numerous occasions, organizing rallies in Thiaraway and elsewhere. I therefore felt it was time to allow him a greater say in our ongoing operations.”
Porter stands and bows, murmuring a few words of thanks. As soon as he sits, Crevan turns to me.
“And this is Kira Morain. Many of you will recognize her from the sports feeds, but she also comes to us highly recommended by Brady. She worked with him during the Resistance and is likely to prove an asset to us as well, particularly in getting word of our true goals out to the youth of Nuath, our people’s future.”
The smile he gives me is overpowering, making me feel for a moment as though I’m the only other person in the room. “Am I correct that you have frequently expressed dissatisfaction with our new Sovereign, finding her ill-prepared for such an important role?”
“Yes, sir. I probably haven’t been as discreet about that as I—”
“No, please don’t worry about that. Your youth allows you far greater freedom to express your views than we of more mature years enjoy, while your status as a sports figure provides you a platform to share them more widely. You have a reader with you?”
I nod, gesturing at my bag. “I went straight to caidpel practice from school,” I explain.
“Good. Before you leave I’ll give you a file that will contain a great deal of, ah, ammunition you can use to better inform the opinions you share with your fellow students and athletes. Everyone needs to fully understand the dangers of entrusting the future of Martians everywhere to an untried girl.”
Which is exactly what I’ve been telling people all along. I listen attentively as he turns back to the others.
“This recent news that the Sovereign intends to return to Earth before the end of the current launch window gives us yet another opportunity. Shim Stuart, Nuath’s first non-Royal Regent in centuries, is likely to be more open to well-reasoned arguments in favor of our cause than any Royal Regent would be. It will be safest, however, to wait until Sovereign Emileia has actually left Mars to begin that campaign. Unfortunately, we can’t be certain she won’t change her mind, as she so frequently seems to do.”
The rest of the brief meeting focuses on what strategies they should use to per
suade Regent Shim and other highly-placed non-Royals to embrace the most important tenets of the Populist movement. Afterward, while the others linger to socialize and eat, Crevan takes me aside to load the promised file onto my tablet. I immediately encrypt it, which seems to please him.
“I have a feeling you may prove even more valuable to our cause than I previously believed, Miss Morain. Thank you again for joining us.”
I start to ask the obvious question, but stop myself. “I should get home if I don’t want my parents asking too many questions,” I say instead.
But as soon as Brady and I are alone outside a few minutes later, I turn to him curiously. “What did Crevan mean by ‘previously believed’? It sounded like he was expecting me to come even before today.”
Brady hesitates for a second, then gives me a half-rueful grin. “Well, yeah. He kind of did. I’ve been talking you up for a while now.”
“You have?” I blink. “Then why didn’t you—?”
“He only agreed I could invite you a couple of days ago. I didn’t want to get your hopes up by saying anything sooner. You’re not mad, are you?”
Though do I feel kind of gullible now, I shake my head. “Not mad, no. But I wish you’d told me before the meeting. I might not have been so nervous.”
“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, now or ever. I wouldn’t have recommended you if I didn’t know you were up to the challenge.”
Though I’m flattered by his confidence, I’m not sure how to respond as we continue on to the station where I can catch a direct zipper to Hollydoon. I’m about to board when I ask, “Why me, though? Why not someone more—?”
He stops me with a touch on my cheek that feels almost as intimate as a kiss. “You’re pretty special, Kira. I thought you’d figured that out by now.” Stepping back, he winks. “See you at practice tomorrow.”
4
Hollydoon
Hollydoon (HOL-ly doon) (pop. 1,677): largely Agricultural village in northwest Nuath; suffered particularly harsh ravages by Faxon’s forces
* * *
I spend the zipper ride to Hollydoon reading the file Crevan Erc gave me—a much better use of my time than replaying that brush of Brady’s fingers along my cheek.
The file contains a complete rundown of the Populist Party’s long and short-term goals, along with loads of carefully reasoned arguments that Populist supporters can use to convince the unconverted. Like:
“Point out the absurdity of an intellectually superior race clinging to an antiquated system of hereditary rulers. Though Nuathans claim to be more rational and enlightened than the Duchas, they are well ahead of us in this area. All historically important Earth monarchies were abolished generations ago in favor of representative governments elected by their people.”
I’ll use that one the first chance I get—maybe tonight, to my parents. My mother acts like the girl singlehandedly brought Faxon down, but the Populists claim what I’ve believed all along: that it was simply the idea of an heir to Sovereign Leontine, not Emileia herself, that motivated the Resistance to finally throw off Faxon’s yoke. A paper cutout would have been as effective if enough people rallied around it.
When the zipper pulls into Hollydoon, I reluctantly put my reader away. I plan to cut through the main square again until I hear cheering. The Sovereign must still be here. Quickly adjusting my trajectory, I make a wide loop around the village center. If my parents spot me, they’ll expect me to join the adoring crowd, which is the last thing I want to do.
Thinking back over everything I learned tonight as I walk home, I experience the same excitement I used to feel last year, carrying messages for the Resistance. Knowing I was doing my part to undermine Faxon. That proves I’m doing the right thing, joining the Populists. And to think that Brady’s been talking me up to Crevan Erc for weeks! Is it possible I mean more to him than I’ve dared to—?
A sound from the sheep byre interrupts that interesting speculation. Peeking inside, I see Adina frantically scooping water out of an overly full trough and pouring it back into the receptacle above her head.
“Hey, Sprout, whatcha doing?”
She turns to me in obvious alarm, then relaxes slightly. “Kira, can you help me? I taught Nelly to open the water valve herself because the timer keeps glitching but she must have done it over and over! If Mum and Dad find out she wasted water, I’m afraid they’ll get rid of the whole flock.”
Not a baseless fear, given how strictly rationed that precious commodity is. If we run short of our own drinking and cooking water because of the sheep, our parents will be furious.
“It only overflowed a little.” She points to a patch of damp straw beneath the trough. “So if we can just put most of this back in the supply tank…”
I pick up a second empty container and start helping. With two of us scooping, it doesn’t take long to restore the trough to its usual level.
“I can’t believe you managed to train a sheep to do something like that.” I glance at the long lever she’d attached to the release valve. “I thought they were really stupid?”
“Not as smart as I hoped, obviously.” Adina quickly unfastens the lever from the valve. “There. Now Nelly can’t do it again. You won’t tell Mum and Dad, will you?”
“No,” I promise. “Why didn’t you go with them into the village to listen to you-know-who?”
“I did, but when it got so late I asked if I could go home early to check on the sheep. Good thing, too.”
A shaft of alarm goes through me. “You walked back all by yourself? In the dark?”
“You do it all the time,” Adina points out. “What’s the big deal?”
“You’re a lot—” I break off. Because not only did I do the same when I was thirteen, it was a lot more dangerous back then, with Faxon’s goons still roaming around.
“Sorry.” I force a lighter tone. “Guess I still think of you as younger than you really are now. Probably always will. Big sister privilege.”
She laughs. “It’s good to know you’ve got my back, Kira, whether I need it or not. Guess we should go in and figure out dinner, huh? You want first shower tonight?”
“Oh, I got one at…um, after practice.” To cover my near-slip, I quickly add, “Anyway, you’d better get yours before Mum and Dad get back or they’ll want to know how you got so wet.”
Once inside, Adina goes to shower and change while I check the recombinator to see what our dinner options are. Not many, but more than last night. I’m heading toward our bedroom to ask Adina what she’s in the mood for when Mum and Dad walk in.
“Oh, Kira, you should have been there!” my mother gushes. “Sovereign Emileia is even more charming in person than in her vids. I can’t get over how much she looks like her mother, Galena. And she has the same remarkable green eyes as Sovereign Leontine.”
I fake a smile. “That’s nice. I guess the crowd didn’t bother you too much?”
Dad gives her shoulder a little squeeze. “She did extremely well, didn’t you, dear?”
“Yes, I was fine,” she agrees happily. Which means she’d be fine attending my games, too—if she really wanted to come.
“So, did the Sovereign say anything worth hearing, or did she just look pretty and act charming?” I blurt without thinking, everything I heard at the meeting and read afterward still fresh in my mind.
Mum’s smile evaporates and Dad gives me a quick, quelling head shake.
“Perhaps if you had come with us this evening, you’d feel differently about her now,” he suggests. “I thought she expressed herself extremely well.” He glances at the screen I’ve pulled up on the recombinator. “I take it you haven’t eaten either? Why don’t you put something together for all of us?”
I select a vegetable and synth chicken casserole I like but when I start to program it in, Mum stops me.
“I know it’s late, but let’s make dinner the old-fashioned way tonight.”
“What? Why?” I turn to look at her in surprise. �
��It’s been great having a working recombinator again after the way Faxon randomly cut our power. Things were finally starting to get back to normal before—”
At Dad’s frown I break off but Mum’s already wearing her stubborn look. “Sovereign Emileia has good reason to ask everyone to conserve while our Scientists look for a solution to our energy shortage. We should do our part. A food recombinator is a luxury, and one we can comfortably live without.”
“I doubt cooking the old-fashioned way uses any less power—and it takes forever,” I argue. I’m starving, what with caidpel practice, then being too excited after the meeting to eat anything.
“It will be good practice,” Dad says. “Recombinators are only one of the conveniences we’ll have to learn to do without.”
I blink at him, confused. “Huh? Why?”
“We have some rather, ah, exciting news. We’d planned to tell you and Adina over dinner.”
“News?” I ask suspiciously. “What kind of news?”
Mum puts a gentle hand on my shoulder, her eyes pleading—which doesn’t reassure me at all. “Please don’t be angry, Kira, but…the Sovereign was extremely persuasive tonight. She told us such wonderful things about Earth, and about her own hometown of Jewel, in a place called Indiana. I’m sure you and Adina will love it there. Why, you might even become friends with the Sovereign herself!”
I jump backwards, feeling as if she just slapped me in the face. “What?” I shriek so loudly the people in the next farmhouse over probably hear me. “You’re crazy! I’m not leaving Nuath! And I sure as efrin don’t want to become friends with that presumptuous little child-Queen.”
“Now, Kira,” Mum cautions me, “you know you mustn’t say things like that. And there’s no guarantee we’ll be allowed to live in Jewel itself. Still—”
“No!” I shake my head fiercely. “We can’t go. At least, I can’t! Our team just made the playoffs, remember? They need me. Believe it or not, I’m actually an important player. They…they don’t even play caidpel on Earth!”