Intermix Nation (5 page)

The rickety bus jolts to life. It groans,
kicking up dust in its wake, hobbling towards the prison an hour’s
ride away. Nazirah clutches the amnesty pendant, recalling the
chain of events that led to her arrival here.

This morning, before the crack of dawn,
Nazirah journeyed by train to the largest Red West city, Rubiyat.
With doctored identification that Niko had somehow procured, and a
bribed conductor, Nazirah had boarded the train easily.

She found her seat in a tiny compartment
near the back, mercifully empty. For the entirety of the five-hour
ride, although she wanted to just lie down and recover lost sleep,
Nazirah was glued to the window, watching the familiar oceanic
views of her home morph into something arresting and new.

Nazirah is momentarily roused from her
thoughts. An extremely large woman in a royal purple wrap dress,
with dozens of gold bangles jangling on each arm, sits down next to
her. The woman unapologetically takes up half of Nazirah’s seat,
squashing Nazirah into the window. She snaps her fingers, shouting
in Deathlandic at her three small children, currently running down
the center aisle of the bus, to sit across from Nazirah. Once the
children are safely settled, Nazirah’s thoughts drift to where she
hasn’t let them go since last night.

Since Niko told her she needed to come
here.

Since he said the name that changed
everything.

#

“What did you say?”

Her voice was not even a whisper, yet sharp
as a blade. Nikolaus stayed silent, allowing her to process it.
They both knew she heard.

“Adamek Morgen.”

Nazirah said it slowly, the name heavy on
her tongue … foreign … blasphemous. Nikolaus looked at Nazirah like
she was a cornered rattlesnake, ready to strike. The floor began to
spin, dropping away. The air left the room. Nazirah’s throat
constricted, a thousand emotions overwhelming her.

Betrayed by her brother.

“No.”

Still, Nikolaus remained silent.

“No!”

Nazirah shoved Nikolaus, her all-consuming
rage vivid upon her face. She screamed incoherently, grabbing the
front of his shirt. He was a full two heads taller than she, but
she didn’t care. She wanted to claw his eyes out.

“You would offer amnesty,” she growled, “to
the man who killed our parents?”

And there it was.

Once Nazirah said it out loud, it became
real. Adamek Morgen, murderer of Riva and Kasimir Nation, would
walk free, without so much as a slap on the wrist. At the hands of
their own son. And Nazirah, in the bitterest twist of irony, would
never have her vengeance.

Nazirah’s legs buckled, collapsed underneath
her as she fell to the floor. Nikolaus wrapped his arms under hers,
steadying her, protecting her. But Nazirah could not look at him,
she was so disgusted. She sat on the floor, staring blankly.
Nikolaus slowly bent on one knee before her. He grabbed her
shoulders, but she turned her face away. Nikolaus tilted her chin,
forcing her to look him in the eye.

“Irri,” he said, “I don’t expect you to
understand this. Yes, he killed Riva and Kasimir. But the rebels
have offered amnesty to many murderers before him. He turned
himself in a few days ago, and is prepared to offer us his
substantial riches and all of his knowledge and connections. You
know who his father is. You know what this means for us.”

“Don’t touch me, Nikolaus! I am so ashamed
of you!”

“Nazirah, the rules are the rules,” Nikolaus
said. “I am bound as Commander to offer him the same terms that we
would offer any other person who requests amnesty. I’m not exactly
thrilled either, but it’s what’s fair.”

“Fair?” Nazirah yelled. “What’s fair would
be to cut his heart out, Nikolaus, and then feed it to him! Not to
give him a goddamn reprieve! How could you trust him? His father is
the fucking Chancellor of the entire country! He probably sent him
to spy on us! Why else would he ever join us?”

“Nazirah,” Nikolaus said, “you know I can’t
tell you the conditions of the agreement. I’m under oath. But the
time of our rebellion has finally come. We’ve worked towards this
for years – decades – and Adamek Morgen is the missing link we need
to set everything in motion. You and I, we must think beyond
ourselves, and do what is right for the greater good.” Nikolaus
touched her arm, but Nazirah shrugged his hand away. Frustrated,
Nikolaus rose quickly, stepping over her legs towards the exit.
“I’ll expect you outside in front at 5:00am sharp,” he said from
the door. “Don’t be late. And try to get some sleep.”

And he left Nazirah, curled on the floor, to
pick up the pieces.

#

The old bus turns sharply onto the prison
grounds, jolting Nazirah back to the present. Nazirah notices the
large woman staring suspiciously and shifts uncomfortably in her
half-seat. Nazirah tries to conceal her face more with the
headscarf, praying the woman won’t recognize her.

Niko wasn’t entirely correct in his
assumption that Nazirah would go unnoticed. Sure, she is small, but
everyone in the country knows her. The camera crews and reporters
that showed up at their parents’ funeral saw to that. Nazirah’s
face, wide eyed and grieving, was plastered on every newspaper and
television in the country for weeks. She was portrayed as the
young, orphaned intermix, daughter of dangerous anarchists … the
living consequence of territories interacting.

All the while, Chancellor Gabirel Morgen
preached from his Median pulpit. He spread vicious lies and
propaganda about Riva and Kasimir, calling them rebel parasites
that had to be dealt with to ensure the continuing peace of
Renatus. He needed a scapegoat to pin the rebellion on. And her
parents, interracially married with intermix children, scum of the
earth and leeching the country’s resources for their own welfare,
were perfect targets. It was a warning to everyone in the
country.

Don’t challenge the authority of Mediah, or
this could be you.

The Chancellor’s only son, Adamek, part-time
playboy, part-time soldier, was touted as a war hero. Already
infamous, training to eventually take his father’s place in
government, Adamek was no stranger to slaughtering citizens in the
name of justice. And now, he bravely took matters into his own
hands, putting an end to the Nation threat once and for all.

How or why Adamek Morgen, Medi, son of the
Chancellor, renowned sociopath, had turned himself over to the
rebellion … Nazirah has no idea. As far as the rest of the country
knows, he is still in Mediah, killing and whoring and doing
whatever it is he normally does. Even though Nazirah’s brain tells
her Nikolaus is an idiot, her heart cannot believe he’s dumb enough
to trust Adamek without substantial proof. But Nazirah doesn’t know
what that proof could be, and she frankly doesn’t care. All she
knows is that Adamek will walk. And she is helping him do it.

The large woman nonchalantly reaches her
heavy, hennaed hand out and gives Nazirah’s own a reassuring
squeeze. Shocked, Nazirah glances at her, but her expression is
unreadable. The woman addresses one of her children, the eldest
daughter. The girl stares curiously at Nazirah and slowly offers
her one golden bangle. Nazirah looks between the two of them,
hesitating for a moment before accepting the token.

“Thank you.”

Nazirah slips the bangle on her wrist,
hoping they understand. The girl looks at her happily and returns
to playing with her brothers. The gift is exactly something Riva
would have made a younger Nazirah do, and the moment is
bittersweet.

They are waved through several guarded
gates, electrified and barbed. The bus finally passes the last
checkpoint, braking in front of the prison entrance.

Stepping outside, Nazirah feels nauseous,
even though she hasn’t eaten in almost a day. Lunch with Cato is a
distant memory. Nazirah didn’t see him last night, like she planned
to. She just sobbed in Niko’s office alone for a long time,
eventually dragging herself to bed two hours before she had to wake
up again.

Nazirah stares at the looming fortress,
stomach in knots. She searches for the woman who sat next to her,
but she’s already gone. Nazirah gathers her courage and follows a
group of visitors through the gates of hell.

Nazirah looks around, trying to figure out
what happens next. Nikolaus told her to seek out Solomon, the chief
of security who also happens to be a rebel spy. But Nazirah has no
idea how to find him.

Luckily, she doesn’t have to wonder for
long. A tall, muscled man, with closely cropped hair and several
earrings in each ear, walks stiffly up to her. He scans her face.
Nazirah is unsure if she should speak and reveal herself, so she
remains quiet. The man inclines his head slightly and walks away.
Nazirah considers the potential ramifications for only a moment,
before chasing after him.

He walks through a heavy iron door, not
bothering to hold it for her. By the time Nazirah manages to wrest
it open, he is already turning a corner down the hallway. Nazirah
sprints after him, trying to keep up, because she would rather be
with this complete stranger than get lost in the prison alone. She
catches up, panting, as he begins climbing a staircase. Nazirah
notes gratefully that his strides have slowed.

“Excuse me, Solomon…”

He gives Nazirah a sharp
look as they exit the staircase, cutting her off. Apparently,
Solomon is not a big talker. They walk through another corridor and
he finally stands in front of a single door.
Here goes everything
, Nazirah
thinks, as she enters the room.

The person standing before her is definitely
not Adamek Morgen. For starters, he’s a full head shorter than
Nazirah. He has light brown skin, sparkling eyes, a huge smile, and
a miniature red fez on his head.

He is also literally hopping with
excitement.

“Oh, Miss Nation!” The small man clasps his
hands around one of hers, shaking it enthusiastically. “What an
unexpected delight to see you here this afternoon! I was expecting
your surly brother to walk through my door, and instead I get this
lotus flower!”

“Uh … thank you,” Nazirah replies. “Not to
be rude, sir, but who are you?”

The man does not look insulted in the least.
He extends his small frame forward into a bow so deep his nose
nearly brushes the floor. “Solomon Salaahi, at your service,” he
tells her with a flourish.

“
You’re
Solomon?”

“Expecting someone taller?” Solomon smiles
knowingly, as Nazirah’s face flushes in embarrassment. “Please
follow me,” he says, leading her through another door.

The next room is circular, with security
monitors of every prison cell lining the walls. In the center of
the room, there is a large circuit panel, with hundreds of gadgets
and buttons. The blinking neon lights make Nazirah dizzy. Solomon
waves his hands emphatically as he walks, clearly proud of his
life’s work.

“This is my office and home away from home,”
he says richly, “otherwise known as the control room.” Solomon hops
onto a small chair, cranking a lever in the side. Slowly, he rises
up to meet Nazirah’s height. Beads of sweat form on his brow from
the exertion.

“It’s very … interesting,” Nazirah says,
looking around.

“Thank you kindly,” Solomon says. He is
momentarily distracted as his sleeve catches in the armrest. “As
you can … obviously tell … this is an extremely sensitive matter
requiring immediate action. We thank you for coming here on such
short notice, even though the journey is long and tiresome. I trust
you have found the Deathlands charming though, yes? Are they not
something?”

‘Charming’ isn’t exactly the word Nazirah
would use. Her face is still itching from all the dust. “It’s
definitely something,” she mutters. And then, honestly, “It’s
captivating.”

“Wonderful!” Solomon claps his hands
together. “I will let you get to it, then. Have no fear, Miss
Nation. My trusty servant Olag here will escort you to Mr. Morgen’s
interrogation room.” Solomon indicates the surly man who brought
Nazirah here, now standing quietly to one side of the room. “His
tongue was cut out as a child, so he does not speak, but he is
fiercely loyal. He will be in the room with you the entire time.
And I,” he taps a video monitor emphatically, “will be watching to
make sure you have no … difficulties.” He clears his throat.

“Got it,” Nazirah says queasily. “Thank you,
Solomon, but I would rather see him alone.”

Solomon is clearly intrigued and says
something to Olag in Deathlandic. Olag nods and opens the door
beside him, this time holding it for Nazirah. “You are much more
like your brother than you let on,” Solomon says. “Olag will take
you to see Mr. Morgen now, and will wait for you outside of the
room. The rest is up to you. Good luck.”

Nazirah thanks him and walks through the
open door, trying to breathe. She follows Olag for a minute or two,
her mind distant. He stops in front of an unremarkable door.
“Here?” she asks and he nods.

Nazirah is not ready, not ready, not
ready.

She must be ready.

She stares at the door, willing her body to
move. Olag stands patiently by her side, giving her all the time
she needs. Nazirah closes her eyes, takes a shaky breath. In a
strange moment of clarity, she unwinds the headscarf, letting her
hair fall freely down her back in its natural waves. She hands the
long ribbon of fabric to Olag, who looks at her questioningly.

“I want him to recognize me.”

Chapter
Four

The first thing Nazirah notices as she shuts
the door behind her is the room, which is small and windowless. The
walls and floor are matte gray stone, cracked and grooved from
years of abuse. There’s a draft coming from somewhere. Nazirah
feels goose bumps forming on her arms, even though she’s in the
middle of the desert. She sees the blinking security camera in one
corner of the ceiling and knows that Solomon is watching. It
doesn’t reassure her.