Intermix Nation (28 page)

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Authors: M.P. Attardo

Tags: #romance, #young adult, #dystopia, #future, #rebellion, #future adventure, #new adult, #insurgent, #dystopia fiction

BOOK: Intermix Nation
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“So,” Solomon responds patiently, “since
every situation is unique, why are you concerned about feeling what
you think is right … what you think is the appropriate norm?”

“I don’t understand.”

Solomon rises from his seat, patting her
gently on the hand. “Just feel, Miss Nation. That is all I am
saying. Open yourself up to emotion, whatever it may be. Allow
yourself to experience something besides hate. You may be surprised
by what you let in.”

Nazirah contemplates Solomon’s words. She
turns around, looking for him, but he is already gone.

#

The next two weeks pass like the calm before
the storm. The campaign cannot leave the Deathlands until after the
rebels receive the full support of the Red Lords. The Red Lords
will not endorse the rebels until after their overlord battles
Adamek. Aldrik ignores Adamek, angry that he agreed to fight the
Khan without seeking approval. Nazirah avoids them both. Everything
is at a standstill.

Each afternoon, Nazirah takes tea with
Solomon in the conservatory. Unlike that first day, Solomon doesn’t
raise sensitive issues or offer advice. He instead tells Nazirah
all about his life, his family history, and his work in the prison.
And Nazirah loves to listen, completely fascinated by his magical
world.

The rest of the time, Nazirah reads on her
balcony. Or she sits there, overlooking the courtyard garden, lost
in thought. Or she watches Adamek. And every day, without fail, he
completely infuriates her.

Adamek doesn’t spend his time preparing for
the fight, training, or working on his strategy … no. Instead, he
sleeps. Or he sits in the courtyard and reads. The night before the
battle, Nazirah cannot take it anymore. She is on her balcony, as
usual, watching the sunset and feeling increasingly on edge. Her
nerves are fried, fired. She spots Adamek lying beside the
fountain, relaxing lazily, and something inside her snaps.

Nazirah storms out of her room and down into
the courtyard. Disregarding the tranquility of the cascading water
and the perfume from the flowers, she marches up to Adamek. He is
stretched out on the fountain’s edge, in baggy gray shorts and a
light blue shirt … reading again. He clearly hears her but doesn’t
look up. A voice in the back of Nazirah’s mind demands to know what
she is doing, screams at her to let him die. Why does she even
care?

She ignores it.

Adamek casually turns a page. “If you’re
going to continue wheezing at me like an asthmatic grandmother,
could you at least move a few inches? You’re blocking my
light.”

Nazirah grabs the book, chucks it into the
fountain. The water is very shallow, so it unfortunately doesn’t
sink. But it does land with a satisfying splat.

Adamek sits up and faces her. “Was that
really necessary?” he asks. “Do you always throw a fit when someone
doesn’t give you their undivided attention?”

“Are you serious right now?” she rants. “I’m
trying to be helpful!”

“And destroying my stuff is helping me
how?”

Nazirah plants her hands on her hips. “You
should be training for tomorrow, not reading for pleasure! Who
knows how many teeth the Khan has added to his necklace, in the
last two weeks alone?”

Adamek’s eyes flash, green with malice. “And
I’m supposed to believe the princess finally descends from her
tower, trampling everything underfoot, because she cares about my
wellbeing?”

Nazirah takes a menacing step forward. “I
already told you, I don’t care! You know I came because you’re
still useful to us!”

“We have the Eridian
fishermen,” Adamek says evenly. “Cayus refused us because of
my
actions. The Red West
will align with us, whether I win or not. Your brother has complete
access to my funds in the event of my demise. Slome is a native of
Zima, perfectly capable of handling them on his own. He can figure
out Osen easily enough. You don’t need me.”

“You’re ‘Renatus,’ Morgen,” Nazirah scoffs.
“You’re the love of my life, remember? Of course we need you! What
game are you playing?”

“What game are you playing, Nation?” he
asks. “I know you want me dead.”

Nazirah opens her mouth, shuts it.

“What, not so chatty now?” he mocks.
“Worried that I’m onto you? That I know this whole situation makes
you feel like the coward you know you are?”

“I’m not a coward!”

“Bullshit! You wish you were the one
challenging me … fighting me … killing me. But you’re too afraid.
So you’re not.”

“Shut up!”

“Tell me I’m wrong!” he yells.

“I said to fucking shut up!”

Nazirah slams her hands into his chest,
pushing him backwards into the fountain. He grabs her arms,
dragging her over the edge with him. The two of them wrestle for
dominance in the shallow water. She rolls on top of him, strangling
him. He flips her over, pushing her shoulders down. Nazirah chokes
as fluid fills her lungs. She kicks him. Cursing, Adamek pulls her
up by the wrists so they are sitting. She stares at him defiantly.
The water pounds into her face, blurring her vision.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he repeats, not angry,
not anything at all.

“You’re not wrong,” she says. “So don’t die
tomorrow.”

“Irri!”

Nazirah wrenches her wrists away as if
electrocuted. She stares into Adamek’s face, eyes wide, before
turning her head. “Cato!” she cries.

Her voice sounds unnaturally chipper, like
there’s nothing strange about sitting in the fountain with Adamek,
getting pelted by water. Cato stands before them, stunned silent,
smile wiped clean. Increasingly aware how bad this looks,
especially since her soaked white dress is now clinging to her like
a second skin, Nazirah struggles to extricate herself from the
fountain. Cato quickly comes to his senses, rushing forward to help
her. He hasn’t changed much in two weeks, save for some stubble and
the bewildered expression. “Hi,” he says, unsure.

Nazirah attempts to hug him. Cato is
understandably distant. He remains fixated on Adamek, also drenched
and out of the water, soggy book in hand. Nazirah protectively
crosses her arms in front of her chest. “What are you doing here?”
she asks, not knowing what else to say.

“Visiting you,” Cato responds slowly. “I was
able to take a few days off from assignment. Solomon arranged it. I
wanted to surprise you.” He looks between the two of them. “What is
this, Irri?”

“What do you mean?” she asks nervously.

“What do I mean?” he says in disbelief. “Why
were you sitting in the fountain?”

Adamek holds his book up,
droplets of water rolling down the binding. “Dropped my book,” he
says casually. “Nation was assisting me in retrieving it.” He looks
at Nazirah. “She’s …
helpful
like that.”

Nazirah shoots Adamek a nasty glare. “Cato,
I’m really happy to see you,” she says honestly, shivering. “Can we
go upstairs and talk? I want to hear everything.”

Cato looks conflicted. “O-kay,” he concedes
eventually, allowing Nazirah to pull him away.

“Nation!” Adamek yells, calling out to her.
Cato stiffens. Nazirah turns, looks at him questioningly. “Your day
will come.”

He disappears, walking in the opposite
direction. “What did he mean by that?” asks Cato suspiciously, as
they walk through the corridor.

“No idea,” Nazirah says quickly, entering
her room. “I think he was trying to get to you.” Nazirah doesn’t
know why she can’t tell Cato the truth. It would be so much
simpler. But she’s buried too deep in lies to dig herself out.

Nazirah grabs an old pair of sweatpants and
a ratty shirt before walking into the bathroom, changing out of her
waterlogged clothes. She comes back to find Cato sprawled on her
bed.

“A lot different from home, huh?” he asks,
looking around appreciatively. He smiles a bit, noticing the
picture he gave her. The suspicion isn’t gone from his voice, but
there’s wonder there too.

“To say the very least,” she replies,
sitting beside him. They’ve been apart for barely two weeks.
Nazirah doesn’t understand why it feels so different.

“Solomon isn’t giving me this kind of
treatment,” he huffs. “My room is nice, but this is palatial.” He
looks at her meaningfully, deadpans, “He must really like you.”

“Yes,” Nazirah agrees uncomfortably.
“Solomon has been gracious to us. But I feel completely isolated
here. How have you been? What’s recon like?”

“It’s good, Irri,” Cato answers, a smile
lighting up his face. “It’s actually really good. It’s hard work,
for sure, and dangerous. But it’s exciting and important. We know
information about the rebellion before anyone else does.”

“Really?” she asks. “Like what?”

“Well, we heard about what happened in the
Eridian slums,” Cato says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe Niko
thought that would be a good idea. You were lucky to leave with
your lives.”

Nazirah looks down at her arms, shivering
slightly. The burns may have healed, but she still feels the
searing flesh, still remembers the blackened bodies. Those visions
plague her already haunted dreams. “I know,” she murmurs. “And for
nothing.”

“For nothing?” Cato repeats, confused.
“Irri, Eridian intermix are migrating to the compound by the
thousands.”

“What?” asks Nazirah, stunned. “That’s not
possible!”

“It is,” Cato explains. “I don’t think Cayus
is exactly happy about joining forces with us, but he feels
indebted to the allies after you and Morgen saved his eldest son.
And I think the intermix are realizing that inaction is not
working.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Niko told me he’s never seen anything like
it … an army of intermix. They’re calling themselves the ‘free
people’ of Renatus.”

“You’ve spoken with Niko?”

“Only yesterday,” Cato responds, “for a
debriefing. He’s insanely busy, especially with all the intermix
showing up. He says they have completely taken over the meadow
behind headquarters with their huts. Gloom and Doom are apparently
working around the clock to secure the base, erecting more concrete
protection walls around the compound, digging additional
underground bunkers and air-raid shelters, rewiring and expanding
the electric fence, importing weapons, trying to keep the mass
exodus of intermix off the Medi radar for as long as possible.”

“How are they feeding everyone?” she
asks.

“With the fishing quotas you convinced the
Eridians to redistribute away from the Medis.”

Nazirah is astonished the campaign has had
such a dramatic effect in only a few weeks. “I can’t take any
credit for that,” she admits. “But that’s amazing we’re getting so
much support.”

“I know.” Cato smiles. “And that’s not all
of it. Even Cander has been securing more allies around southern
Eridies, recruiting his friends and contacts.”

Nazirah is truly astonished now.

“I spoke with him about a week ago,” Cato
continues, face shining. “For the first time in … a long time.
We’re not where we used to be, but it’s a start.”

She gently touches Cato’s arm. “That’s
great,” she says, because she knows how much it must mean to
him.

Cato gets a serious look then. “It’s not all
good news,” he says. “The slum attack was poorly executed,
conceived in the final hour and designed to look unintentional. You
may be safe here under the Salaahi armistice, but you need to be
careful. There have been more than whispers, dark rumors shadowing
the country. The Medis are strengthening their army and they won’t
go down without a fight. The Chancellor is targeting you, the face,
as offender number one.”

“I get it, Cato,” Nazirah sighs. “I knew the
risk when I agreed to do this. I never expected Gabirel to give up
easily.” Nazirah shudders at the memory of him stroking Victoria’s
lifeless cheek. “He can’t be underestimated.”

Cato takes her hand. “I will do everything in
my power to protect you,” he promises.

Nazirah smiles sadly. “I know you will.”

“Tell me more about you.”

Nazirah grabs her bag off the floor,
rummages through it. “Well,” she says, “You probably heard from
Cander that I visited your family when I was in Rafu.” She takes
out the locket, gently pulls it over Cato’s head. “From Caria, with
love.”

Cato’s eyes fill with unshed tears. He opens
the locket, stares longingly at the photo inside. “They are well?”
he asks shakily.

“They are,” she replies. “They miss you, and
are proud of you. Of us both.”

Cato is quiet for a moment, collecting
himself. “How’s Caria?”

“Toothless.”

Cato smiles. “And my mother?”

“She would be happier with you home, but
she’s managing,” Nazirah says. “Honestly. She practically force fed
me cookies intravenously as soon as I walked through the door.”

“Did Cander give you a rough time?”

Nazirah shrugs noncommittally. “No worse
than usual.”

Cato nods and there’s a moment of awkward
silence. Nazirah braces herself for what she knows is coming. “So,”
he begins, “now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the
way.…”

“Were those pleasantries?”

“Compared to what we’re about to discuss …
yes.”

“I’m really not in the mood.…”

“There have been rumors flying all over
about you and Morgen.…”

“You know what they say about rumors.”

“That they start with a grain of truth?”

Her eyes narrow. “That you can’t always
believe them.”

“I don’t, usually.”

“If you have something to ask me,” Nazirah
snaps, “ask it.”

“Why are you getting so defensive?”

“Because I can’t believe I’m actually
entertaining this conversation!” she screeches. “Don’t trust
everything you hear!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Cato hisses.
“I nearly died laughing when I first heard the tale Aldrik is
spinning about you two. Then I came here tonight and saw it for
myself. I guess the joke is on me, huh?”

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