The One: Maxon

Chapter 15

*Mild Violence*

It was damp. The room was fairly small and smelled like a mix of coffee and something like dust. Georgia was standing in the middle of the room by a table and next to her stood a tall but young looking boy. America rushed ahead before I could even consider stopping her and pulled Georgia in for an embrace. 

"Were you followed?" she asked. Officer Leger answered for her. 

"No, but you should hurry," he said. I approached the table with the guards and August close behind. We wasted no time getting down to business. 

"How bad is the death toll? My father keeps evading the truth," I asked. 

"It's not bad for now. The Southerners haven't been as violent as we expected this early. As far we know, it's less than three hundred for the Twos." America gasped quietly and covered her mouth with one hand. 

"It's not that bad, all things considered," I told her. Georgia nodded, agreeing with me.

"It could have been a lot worse."

"We don't expect it to stay this good for long. We're sure they're going to pick up the pace and begin working their way down the Castes. So far, they've stayed in that lane, but we'll be able to alert you if that changes. I'm not sure how long that would take, but we've got...people on the lookout for that," said August. I heaved a sigh and ran my fingers through my hair. 

"Should we cave?" I asked pathetically. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had been sheltered so much of what really goes on here that I wasn't sure what to do at all. I didn't know what plan would best appease the majority and I certainly didn't feel like I was in any position to be making such a heavy decision. 

"Trust me when I say caving now won't do any good. If anything, it would make things worse," said Georgia. I could feel America looking at me with concern. 

"There has to be something we can do," I said. 

"There is. Well was." August looked pointedly at America. "You." She furrowed her brows in confusion, but sat up straighter in her chair. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, saying what we were both thinking. 

"Well, from what we've heard, people are heeding your advice. They're taking any means of defense possible. Farmers are carrying pitchforks, seamstresses are walking around with scissors, the higher castes are carrying around pepper spray. Even the lowest castes have found slabs of wood or brick to carry around. Everyone has found something. They're listening to you, fighting back." America made a sound between a laugh and a scoff of disbelief. I moved my hand to her lap and grasped hers, lacing my fingers with her own. 

"That's really good," I said. "It still doesn't seem like enough, though." All the heads at the table nodded, including the young man whose name I still didn't know. 

"I agree," said August. "Even though we have reinforcements and a good ground we're standing on, we don't have the means to fight back efficiently. It's inconvenient to fight when most of our people are using bricks or rakes..."

"You want weapons," I phrased as more of a question. August shrugged. 

"Wouldn't hurt." I sat back in my chair and thought about this. On one hand, providing weapons to the Northerners and having them deal with the Southern threat would not only be convenient but also a relief. On the other hand, providing weapons to the rebels, Northerners or not was a risky move. 

"What are you thinking?" asked August. 

"I think you make a good proposition. There are a lot of moving parts, though. If I agree, we'd need to figure out a way to get them out of the palace unnoticed. I also don't love the idea of sending my men to fight in another battle that they're untrained for. There's also the nagging possibility that once this is over, you could use those very same weapons on the royal family," I said finally.