Prodigy (4 page)

It takes fifteen minutes to scrub him, and all of his hair, clean. When we’re finished,
I help him stand and close my eyes as he grabs a dry towel to wrap around his waist.
The thought of opening my eyes right now and seeing him naked before me sends blood
coursing fiercely through my veins.
What
does
a naked boy look like, anyway?
I’m annoyed by how obvious the heat of my blush must be. Then the moment’s over;
we spend another few minutes struggling to get him out of the tub. When he’s finally
done and sitting on the toilet seat cover, I walk over to the bathroom door. I hadn’t
noticed before, but someone had opened the door a crack and dropped off a new pair
of soldier uniforms for us. Ground battalion uniforms, with Nevada buttons. It’s going
to feel weird to be a Republic soldier again. But I bring them inside.

Day gives me a weak smile. “Thanks. Feels good to be clean.”

His pain seems to bring back the worst of his memories from the last few weeks, and
now all his emotion plays out plainly on his face. His smiles have become half of
what they used to be. It’s as if most of his happiness had died the night he lost
John, and only a tiny slice of it remains—mostly a piece that he saves for Eden and
Tess. I secretly hope he saves a part of his joy for me too. “Turn around and change
into your clothes,” I say. “And wait outside the bathroom for me. I’ll be quick.”

*   *   *

We get back to the living room seven minutes late. Razor and Kaede are waiting for
us. Tess sits alone on a corner of the couch, her legs folded up to her chin, watching
us with a guarded expression. An instant later, I smell the aromas of baked chicken
and potatoes. My eyes dart to the dining room table where four dishes loaded with
food sit neatly, beckoning to us. I try not to react to the smell, but my stomach
rumbles.

“Excellent,” Razor says, smiling at us. He lets his eyes linger on me. “You two clean
up nicely.” Then he turns to Day and shakes his head. “We arranged for some food to
be brought up, but since you’re having surgery within the next few hours, you’re going
to have to keep your stomach empty. I’m sorry—I know you must be hungry. June, please
help yourself.”

Day’s eyes are also fixed on the food. “That’s just great,” he mutters.

I join the others at the table while Day stretches out on the couch and makes himself
as comfortable as he can. I’m about to pick up my plate and sit next to him, but Tess
beats me to it, seating herself on the edge of the couch so her back touches Day’s
side. As Razor, Kaede, and I eat in silence at the table, I occasionally steal glances
at the couch. Day and Tess talk and laugh with the ease of two people who have known
each other for years. I concentrate on my food, the heat of our bathroom encounter
still burning on my lips.

I’ve counted off five minutes in my head when Razor finally takes a sip of his drink
and leans back. I watch him closely, still wondering why one of the Patriots’ leaders—the
head of a group that I’d always associated with savagery—is so polite. “Ms. Iparis,”
he says. “How much do you know about our new Elector?”

I shake my head. “Not much, I’m afraid.” Beside me, Kaede snorts and continues digging
into her dinner.

“You’ve met him before, though,” Razor says, revealing what I’d hoped to keep from
Day. “That night at the ball, the one held to celebrate Day’s capture? He kissed your
hand. Correct?” Day pauses in his conversation with Tess. I cringe inwardly.

Razor doesn’t seem to notice my discomfort. “Anden Stavropoulos is an interesting
young man,” he says. “The late Elector loved him a great deal. Now that Anden is Elector,
the Senators are uneasy. The people are angry, and they couldn’t care less if Anden
is different from the last Elector. No matter what speeches Anden gives to please
them, all they’re going to see is a wealthy man who has no idea how to heal their
suffering. They’re furious with Anden for letting Day’s execution go through, for
hunting him down, for not saying a word against his father’s policies, for putting
a price on finding June . . . the list goes on. The late Elector had an iron grip
on the military. Now the people just see a boy king who has the chance to rise up
and become another version of his father. These are the weaknesses we want to exploit,
and this brings us to the plan we currently have in mind.”

“You seem to know a great deal about the young Elector. You also seem to know a great
deal about what happened at the celebratory ball,” I reply. I can’t hold in my suspicion
any longer. “I suppose that’s because you were also a guest that night. You must be
a Republic officer—but without a rank high enough to get you an audience with the
Elector.” I study the room’s rich velvet carpets and granite counters. “These are
your
actual
office quarters, aren’t they?”

Razor seems a little put off by my criticism of his rank (which, as usual, is a fact
that I hadn’t meant as an insult), but quickly brushes it off with a laugh. “I can
see there’ll be no secrets with you. Special girl. Well, my official title is Commander
Andrew DeSoto, and I run three of the capital’s city patrols. The Patriots gave me
my street name. I’ve been organizing most of their missions for a little over a decade.”

Day and Tess are both listening intently now. “You’re a Republic officer,” Day echoes
uncertainly, his eyes glued to Razor. “A commander from the capital. Hm.
Why
are you helping the Patriots?”

Razor nods, resting both of his elbows on the dinner table and pressing his hands
together. “I suppose I should start by giving you both some details about how we work.
The Patriots have been around for thirty or so years—they started as a loose collection
of rebels. Within the last fifteen years, they’ve banded together in an attempt to
organize themselves and their cause.”

“Razor’s coming changed everything, so I hear,” Kaede pipes up. “They’d rotated through
leaders all the time, and funding had always been a problem. Razor’s connections to
the Colonies have been bringing in more money for missions than ever before.”

Metias
had
been busier over the last couple of years in dealing with Patriot attacks in Los
Angeles, I recall.

Razor nods at Kaede’s words. “We’re fighting to reunite the Colonies and the Republic,
to return the United States to its former glory.” His eyes take on a determined gleam.
“And we’re willing to do whatever it takes to achieve our goal.”

The old United States,
I think, as Razor continues. Day had mentioned the United States to me during our
escape from Los Angeles, although I was still skeptical. Until now. “How does the
organization work?” I ask.

“We keep an eye out for people who have the talents and skills we need, and then we
try to recruit them,” Razor says. “
Usually
we’re good at getting people on board, although some people take longer than others.”
He pauses to tip his glass in Day’s direction. “I am considered a Leader in the Patriots—there
are only a few of us, working from the inside and architecting the rebels’ missions.
Kaede here is a Pilot.” Kaede waves a hand around as she continues to inhale her food.
“She joined us after she was expelled from an Airship Academy in the Colonies. Day’s
surgeon is a Medic, and young Tess here is a Medic in training. We also have Fighters,
Runners, Scouts, Hackers, Escorts, and so on. I would place you as a Fighter, June,
although your abilities seem to cross into several categories. And Day, of course,
is the best Runner I’ve ever seen.” Razor smiles a little and finishes his drink.
“The two of you should technically be a new category altogether. Celebrities. That’s
how you’re going to be most useful to us, and that’s why I didn’t throw you both back
out on the street.”

“So kind of you,” Day says. “What’s the plan?”

Razor points at me. “Earlier, I asked you how much you knew about our Elector. I heard
a few rumors today. They say Anden was quite taken with you at the ball. Someone heard
him asking if you could be transferred to a patrol in the capital. There’s even a
rumor that he wanted you tapped to train as the Senate’s next Princeps.”

“The next Princeps?” I shake my head automatically, overwhelmed with the idea. “Probably
nothing more than a rumor. Even ten years of training wouldn’t be enough to prepare
me for that.” Razor just laughs at my declaration.

“What’s a Princeps?” Day speaks up. He sounds annoyed. “Some of us aren’t versed in
the Republic’s hierarchy.”

“The leader of the Senate,” Razor replies casually, without turning in his direction.
“The Elector’s shadow. His, or her, partner in command—and sometimes
more
. It frequently turns out that way in the end, after a requisite decade of training.
Anden’s mother was the last Princeps, after all.”

I glance instinctively toward Day. His jaw is tight and he’s holding very still, little
signs that say that he’d rather not be hearing what the Elector thinks of me or that
he might want me as a future
partner.
I clear my throat. “Those rumors are exaggerated,” I insist again, just as uncomfortable
as Day is with this conversation. “Even if that
were
true, I’d still be one of several Princeps-in-training, and I can guarantee you that
their other choices would be experienced Senators. But how are you planning to use
that information in your assassination? Do you think I’m going to—”

Kaede breaks through my words with a loud laugh. “You’re blushing, Iparis,” she says.
“Do you like the idea that Anden’s crushin’ on you?”

“No!” I say, a bit too quickly. Now I feel the heat rising on my face, although I’m
pretty sure it’s because Kaede is irritating me.

“Don’t be so goddy arrogant,” she says. “Anden is a handsome guy with a lot of power
and a lot of options. It’s okay to feel flattered. I’m sure Day understands.”

Razor saves me from responding by frowning in disapproval. “Kaede. Please.” She makes
a pouty face at him and returns to her meal. I glance at the couch. Day is staring
up at the ceiling. After a short pause, Razor goes on. “Even now, Anden can’t be sure
that you did everything against the Republic on
purpose.
For all he knows, you may have been taken hostage when Day escaped. Or forced to
join Day against your will. There’s enough uncertainty for him to insist that the
government list you as a missing person instead of a wanted traitor. My point is this:
Anden is interested in you, and that means he can be influenced by what you tell him.”

“So you want me to go back to the Republic?” I say. My words seem to echo. From the
corner of my eye, I see Tess shift unhappily on the couch. Her mouth quivers with
some unspoken phrase.

Razor nods. “Exactly. Originally, I was going to use spies from my own Republic patrols
to get close to Anden—but now we have a better alternative.
You.
You tell the Elector that the Patriots are going to try to kill him—but the plan
you tell him about will be a decoy. While everyone’s distracted with the fake plan,
we’ll strike with the real one. Our goal is not only to kill Anden, but to turn the
country completely against him, so that his regime will be doomed even if our plan
fails. That’s what you two can do for us. Now, we’ve heard reports that the new Elector
is going to be heading for the warfront within the next couple of weeks, to get updates
and progress reports from his colonels. The RS
Dynasty
airship launches toward the warfront early tomorrow afternoon, and all of my squadrons
will be on it. Day will join me, Kaede, and Tess on that ride. We’ll organize the
real assassination, and you’ll lead Anden to it.” Razor crosses his arms and studies
our faces, waiting for our reactions.

Day finally finds his voice and interrupts him. “This is going to be incredibly dangerous
for June,” he argues as he props himself up straighter on the couch. “How can you
be sure she’ll even reach the Elector after the military gets her back? How do you
know they won’t just start torturing information out of her?”

“Trust me, I know how to avoid that,” Razor replies. “I haven’t forgotten about your
brother, either . . . If June can get close enough to the Elector, she may find out
where Eden is on her own.”

Day’s eyes light up at that, and Tess squeezes his shoulder.

“As for you, Day, I’ve never seen the public rally behind
anyone
the way they have for you. Did you know that streaking your hair red has become a
fashion statement overnight?” Razor chuckles and waves a hand at Day’s head. “That’s
power. Right now, you probably have just as much influence as the Elector. Maybe more.
If we can find a way to use your fame to work the people up into a frenzy, by the
time the assassination happens, Congress will be powerless to stop a revolution.”

“And what do you plan to
do
with that revolution?” Day asks.

Razor leans forward, and his face turns determined, even hopeful. “You want to know
why I joined the Patriots? For the same reasons
you’ve
been working against the Republic. The Patriots know how you’ve suffered—we’ve all
seen the sacrifices you’ve made for your family, the pain the Republic has caused
you. June,” Razor says, nodding at me. I cringe; I don’t want a reminder of what happened
to Metias. “I have seen your suffering too. Your whole family destroyed by the nation
you once loved. I’ve lost count of the number of Patriots who have come from similar
circumstances.”

Day turns his stare back up at the ceiling at the mention of his family. His eyes
stay dry, but when Tess reaches out and grabs his hand, he tightens his fingers around
hers.

“The world outside of the Republic isn’t perfect, but freedoms and opportunities
do
exist out there, and all we need to do is let that light shine into the Republic
itself. Our country is on the brink—all it needs now is a hand to tip it over.” He
rises halfway off his chair and points at his chest. “
We
can be that hand. With a revolution, the Republic comes crashing down, and together
with the Colonies we can take it and rebuild it into something great. It’ll be the
United States again. People will live freely. Day, your little brother will grow up
in a better place. That’s worth risking our lives for. That’s worth
dying
for. Isn’t it?”