Champion (Page 79)

A shiver runs down my spine. “And the Princeps-Elects?” I repeat. “What about the Patriots? This was part of our deal, remember?”

The Chancellor nods. “Of course I remember. Day, there are things you’ll learn about people and society when you get older. Sometimes, you just have to do things the hard way. Now, before you work yourself up into a panic, know that Ms. Iparis will be unharmed. We already have plans to pardon her for your sake, given that you’ll be helping us out. Part of our deal, just like you said, and I do not go back on my word. The other Princeps-Elects will be executed along with the Elector.”

Executed. So easy, just like that. I get a nauseous feeling in my stomach at the memory of Anden’s botched assassination. This time he might not be so lucky. “As long as you spare June,” I manage to choke out, “and as long as you don’t hurt the Patriots or my brother. But you still haven’t answered my first question. What will happen to the people of the Republic?”

The Chancellor eyes me, then leans closer. “Tell me, Day, do you think the masses have the right to make decisions for an entire nation?”

I turn to stare at the city. It’s a long drop from here to the bottom of the naval base; I’ll have to find a way to slow myself down. “The laws that affect an entire nation will also affect that nation’s individuals, yeah?” I reply, goading him. I hope my recorder’s picking all this up. “So of course the people have a right to contribute to those decisions.”

The Chancellor nods. “A fair answer. But fairness does not power nations, Day, does it? I have read histories about nations where every person is given an equal start in life, where everyone contributes to the greater good and no one is richer or poorer than anyone else. Do you think that system worked?” He shakes his head. “Not with people, Day. That’s something you’ll learn when you grow up. People by nature are unjust, unfair, and conniving. You have to be careful with them—you have to find a way to make them think that you are catering to their every whim. The masses can’t function on their own. They need help. They don’t know what’s good for them. And as for what will happen to the people of the Republic? Well, Day, I’ll tell you. The people as a whole will be thrilled to be integrated into our system. They will know everything that they need to know, and we will make sure they are all put to good use. It will be a well-oiled machine.”

“Everything they need to know?”

“Yes.” He folds his hands behind his back and sticks his chin up. “Do you really believe that the people can make all of their own decisions? What a frightening world. People don’t always know what they really want. You should know that better than anyone, Day, what with your announcement so long ago in favor of the Elector, and with the announcement you’ll give us today.” He tilts his head a little as he talks. “You do what you need to do.”

You do what you need to do. Echoes of the philosophy of the Republic’s own former Elector—echoes of something that, no matter what country I’m in, never seems to change. On the surface, I just nod, but inside, I feel a sudden hesitation to go through with my plan. He’s baiting you, I remind myself, lost in the struggle. You are not like the Chancellor. You fight for the people.

You are fighting for something real. Aren’t you?

I’ve got to get out of here, before he works his way deeper into my mind. My muscles tense up, ready for the announcement. I study the room from my peripheral vision. “Well,” I say stiffly, “let’s get this over with.”

“More enthusiasm, my boy,” the Chancellor says, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval, and then gives me a serious look. “We thoroughly expect you to sell your point to the people.”

I nod. I step forward toward the window, then let two soldiers hook my mike up to broadcast from the airship. A transparent, live video of me suddenly appears on the glass. Shivers run down my entire body. There are Colonies soldiers all over the place, and they’ve ensured that if I don’t make my move just right, I’ll have sentenced myself and most likely all of my loved ones to death. This is it. There is no turning back from here.

“People of the Republic,” I begin. “Today, I stand here with the Chancellor of the Colonies, on board his very own airship. I have a message for all of you.” My voice sounds hoarse, and I have to clear my throat before continuing. When I shift my toes, I can feel the bump of the two tiny explosives on the bottom of my boots’ soles, ready for my next move. I hope to hell that the markers that Pascao, the other Runners, and I left across the city have done their work, and that the people are prepared.

“We’ve been through a lot together,” I continue. “But few things have been more trying than the last few months in the Republic. Believe me, I know. Adjusting to a new Elector, seeing the changes that have come around . . . and as you all know by now, I haven’t been doing so well myself.” My headache throbs as if in response. Outside the airship, my voice echoes across the city from the video feed playing from dozens of Colonies airships and hundreds of Los Angeles JumboTrons. I take a deep breath, as if this might be the last time I ever speak to the people. “You and I will probably never get a chance to meet. But I know you. You have taught me about all the good things in my life, and why I’ve fought for my family all these years. I hope for great things for your own loved ones, that they can go through life without suffering the way mine have.” I pause here. My eyes turn to face the Chancellor, and he nods once, coaxing me on. My heart is beating so loudly that I can barely hear my own voice.