On cue, Valerie, Jackson, and Torian emerged from the jury room, each of them pushing wheelbarrows of fragile library books, dusty magazines, and faded scrolls into the chamber—and bringing with them the most damming evidence in my armory.
My comrades stared at the spectacle in confusion, and so did the majority of Ellsians in the room. Even Aimes didn't seem to know what was going on, apparently too young and progressive to be entrusted with the nation's secret. But his elders gave themselves away. The politicians who recognized the dusty collection hunkered down in the corner of the room—as pale and rigid as the giant walls of Havenbrooke.
"In these texts, you'll find records of our nation's history," I explained. "And what's more—the history of the Ancients, which has been withheld from the public since our country's inception."
The context elicited a whir of gasps and inquisitive murmurs from the crowd, and my friends wheeled the dirty carts down every aisle of the gallery, handing out the most resilient and condemning texts we could find. Then, to prevent a debate over legitimacy—a diversion Bittercress was bound to enact at any moment—they encouraged the attendees to inspect the artifacts, get a good whiff of their musty stench, and pass them around.
Children looked between their parents and the gift-bearers in awe, their gazes latching onto Valerie and her fairy-like appearance, transfixed by her bow and arrow. Meanwhile, the older citizens handled the documents like they might explode in their laps, flipping through photographs and chapter titles with a reverent grace. They only glanced up from the faded copy to glare at the High Court, then transferred the evidence to fresh eyes.
In minutes, the truth spread through the room like a virus, and I welcomed the modern plague.
"These documents describe how and when the world fell, and what actually brought on the Crash," I continued, fighting a smile as the justices writhed in distress.
Today, I'd deliver the truth to those duped by the deceitful shadows of the cave. Today, I'd thrust my people into the sunlight, even if it blinded them.
"They discuss the greed and power of the upper class, and those who suffered under their reign. They tell stories of coeducation and love without gender." I pushed off the table to pace the room, gliding on the high of righteousness. "Stories of women advancing in all trades and ruling entire nations. Even fighting on the frontlines and winning wars. Women with the freedom to choose their partners or rightfully deny a life of motherhood." My gaze slid from wide-eyed children to the fidgety High Court. "Histories that depict true freedom and liberty; freedoms we've never known."
Siren watched me with a devilish smile, angered by the revelation but thrilled with my performance. Rover, in contrast, looked more contemplative than entertained. He now understood the gravity of what I'd discovered in that bunker—and the structural crack I'd just left on the bridge of this republic.
"And where did I find these texts, you might wonder?" I asked, a healthy dash of mockery in my tone.
Sideburns stumbled forward in a panic, freed from his spell of astonishment. "Miss Kingsley—"
"I found them in a bunker beneath this very courthouse. A bunker built to accommodate a small city, and one which harbors foreign technology, an indoor garden space, and a prohibited library."
As the crowd's quiet grumbling rose in volume, Sideburns halted in his path to stare at me, and he'd never looked so horrified.
"And you know what I saw when I touched those documents? When I brushed my hand against the broken keys of that computer?" The attendees paused in their book-skimming to listen, trusting in my divulgence, and I inhaled deeply, scanning the room and absorbing it all—just before ripping their blindfolds off. "I saw swarms of rich, selfish people burrowing underground because their greed and inaction made the planet inhospitable."
I was proud of myself for maintaining a strong and steady cadence, but the emotion in my throat was difficult to suppress. Then again, I wasn't sure I needed to conceal it anymore. This was not a trial designed to assess my civility; this was the birth of a rebellion.
"I saw elites who gathered here after fleeing their own estates—after the water they'd hoarded upstream was redistributed to the rebels. Men and women who built giant walls around their lifeline and turned away the working class." Rage filled my bones as I recalled the most alarming detail of all. "And in the memory of those files, I heard men giving orders that would eradicate the surviving cities—and anyone who posed a threat to their resources."
Rover closed his eyes in shame, suddenly realizing where this was headed.
"I heard plans to launch missiles that would wipe their competition off the map." I locked eyes with the Chief Justice. "Officers who told them to blame the destruction on the Mad Commander. And obedient scribes who wrote those lies into history."
Valerie pulled up beside me with her near-empty wheelbarrow, and we traded knowing looks, sisters in nonconformity.
Turns out, the cultists in the Gritz were beyond justified in their hatred: not only had we locked them out of the bunker and the City of Origins, but we'd also abandoned them to the radiation. And then, when it was safe to emerge from the underground spaceship, we'd built stone walls around every new village we erected, denying them any opportunity to set the record straight.
"Lies," Bittercress attempted, his eyes shrinking to deep slits of abhorrence. "You're twisting history to fit your narrative!"
"Well, no...I'm not like you," I said dryly. "But if you don't believe me, I'm happy to share the secretary's notes detailing the plan I just described." I pulled out a stack of yellow pages from the bottom of Valerie's cart—something Mason insisted we'd need for the traditionalists in the audience. And, considering he was the former president of the Dumb and Sexist club, I trusted his intuition. "Or perhaps the declaration our Patrons voted on and signed? You know, the one documenting their vow to keep this secret among the ruling authority, and to never let the truth reach the ears of their progeny?" With my free hand, I extracted the ancient scroll and waved it in the air for the gallery to behold. "Which do you prefer, Your Honor?"
Gritting his teeth, the arrogant waste of stardust finally broke eye contact. Forfeiting.
That's what I thought.
Aimes turned to his peers, aghast. "Is this true? You're keeping a library of historic documents all to yourselves?" He took a few steps away from them, physically separating himself from those he'd once considered mentors. "Why wasn't I informed of this upon my inauguration?"
Sideburns sensed he was losing an ally—and a fan favorite among constituents—and he had no choice but to confirm my allegation. "It's...sensitive information, Aimes. We didn't believe you were ready yet." He sent me an accusatory side-eye. "As you can see, the general populace can't handle the content, nor critically digest the material."
The youngest judge shook his head, and I was grateful to have at least one politician on my side. "It doesn't sound indigestible. It sounds like calumny was used to justify centuries of litigation."
Gaines scowled, scrambling for a way to save her reputation. "Laurel Murphy was not some...Robinhood, Sidney. She was no martyr. She worked for the very institutions Miss Kingsley criticizes."
"No, you're right. She did," I acknowledged, removing the final text from Valerie's wheelbarrow: the Mad Commander's case file. "That is, until Laurel realized she'd become a dog of the military, serving only the wealthy and the well-endowed. Upon quitting, she formed a rebel group that targeted oases throughout the northern hemisphere, destroying their dams and power plants. Her bombs set the rivers free again, redistributing those resources to the masses and returning fresh drinking water to the people." My heart ached with a truth I'd been holding in for centuries. "She never leveled cities. We did."
Laurel only ever targeted thieves, but they'd made her out to be a sociopath to convince her old comrades that she was, in fact, a threat worth eliminating. They'd lied and lied and lied to advance their own agenda. And too many of our lawmakers had inherited those genes, using the same myth to perpetuate stereotypes that kept breeders at home where they belonged.
An elderly woman rose from her pew with an ancient book in her hand. "I'm the librarian and archivist here in Havenbrooke. These documents appear to be as old as she claims, and I do believe they're authentic." She looked to the judges, shaking her head. "The wealth of knowledge here...you've kept us in the dark all this time. Why?"
Her imploring gaze triggered nothing but guilty silence.
"Because literacy is considered an enemy of the state," Siren answered. "And an ignorant, fearful country is an easy country to rule." She raised her brow at the politicians in the room. "Isn't that right, oh Honorable Panel?"
But the justices knew better than to answer her. We'd already turned the civilians against them. No matter how they chose to spin it, this yarn was spoiled.
The crowd grew agitated in our interlude, a few of them standing to yell at the justices, others turning to their neighbors to vent and commiserate. The anger swelled like a broken ankle, and I watched, exasperated, as the politicians began inching toward the closest exit. Hoping to escape their ramifications.
Bittercress, aware of the hostility in the courtroom, was the first to make a run for it. Leaving his family to fend for themselves, he raced for the jury room with several council members behind him. But he didn't get far.
With a heavy eye-roll, I dropped my hand to the defendant's table, and all four men tumbled to the ground unconscious.
The event spurred even more shouting and swearing, and from Siren's crew, quite a bit of laughter.
Gaines, appalled by the assault, spun to face the sentinels. "I...did you all see that?" she snapped. "Kingsley just attacked a judge! Apprehend her this instant!"
But the guards just glared at the woman, sickened by her hypocrisy, and they slowly dispersed, abandoning her to the civilians. Even Button Up—allegiance and discipline embodied—shot her one final, disgusted look before sheathing his rapier and walking away.
She looked genuinely dumbfounded, and I couldn't repress my wide, satisfied smile any longer.
The room was a cacophony of passionate voices now, and Sideburns approached me, his bald and sweaty head reflecting the light above like a wet mushroom. "You've done it now, child. There's no chance of stopping the chaos." He gestured broadly to the courtroom and the dissonance I'd unleashed. "Because of you, we'll never be able to regain order and assemble an army. Your revelations will be the end of civilization."
Strangely enough, it wasn't the first time I'd heard those words. Major Reisz had said something eerily similar just before he'd put a bullet in Laurel Murphy's head.
Hopefully, I'd done her proud.
"You won't have to worry about all that," I assured him. "You're no longer in charge."
He stiffened, then looked to Rover and Siren in disbelief.
"How are you at all surprised by that?" Rover asked, forsaking the last of his professionalism. "What about this evening made you think you were leaving here employed?"
Sideburns flushed red. "You'll leave this nation to anarchy?"
"No, Justice Bailey. At this moment in time, Wright and I are imposing Martial Law," Siren said—relating the only part of my plan she was informed about. "The next few weeks may be our last, and winning this war is our top priority now. We can't have you and your colleagues getting in the way."
"The way..." he rasped, practically foaming at the mouth. "After all I've done for this country."
"After all you haven't."
They glared at one another for a few seconds, and I had to appreciate the Fates' sense of humor. It was this same justice who once attempted to hang Siren for her military contributions, and now she was stripping him of authority and stealing his job. Gracefully, as she conducted all affairs.
Siren, bored with the sputtering politician, turned to General Iver instead. "Going forward, we'll need every hand on deck."
Burroughs, the general's ever-present affiliate, scowled at the order. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that every artisan, engineer, and blacksmith will report to Mason and Claus for weapon development," she explained. "The Command will consult with Wright, Beckett, and myself for strategic planning. Alex too," she said, nodding in my direction. "We'll need the unemployed—children, mothers, the elderly—to assist our fishermen and food producers in their harvest. Our army is useless hungry."
"Nazir and I can serve as supply specialists," Torian offered, earning himself a slew of commending glances. Like Will, the Rhean had saved too many lives to be treated like a foreigner, and the Command seemed to accept that. "We can work on unit rations, hospital prep....anything we'll need for our travels."
General Iver looked to Siren. "And what of our army?"
"Victor and his crew started training refugees a few weeks ago. But we'll need to double our ranks if we hope to win this war. That means recruiting anyone who didn't make it to boot camp and anyone who wasn't eligible in the first place." Her gaze swept the group of soldiers, civilians, and officers who'd gathered around us. "As of today, the Gender Clause is null and void. Every man and woman willing to fight can and must do so."
A few men let out incredulous puffs of air, but General Iver merely sighed. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Putting our most vulnerable demographic at risk?"
"You'll have no wombs to protect if we're all dead," she replied, indelicate as usual, and I felt like punching the air. "Quite frankly, the decision has already been made, so you can either stand beside us, behind us, or not at all."
Iver examined the soldiers and city sentinels standing before him, unified in their rejection of a discriminatory law and determined to fight beside the female archers and swordsmen who'd saved their skins. In the span of several months, the general had lost influence over the most powerful men in his legion. They'd slipped through his grasp, and now they reported to the Reaper of the Canopy and the Captain of the Interior Company.
"Doesn't look like we have much of a choice," Iver conceded, and Burroughs gaped at him in dismay.
"At least you're perceptive," Beckett said, raising his flask, and Sol spun around to hide his smirk.
Rover scanned the crowd of people who surrounded us now, and this time, there was no need for him to whistle. The public wanted to hear him speak—they needed his guidance, his hope, his reassurance—and they quieted as he climbed up on the defendant's table to address the chamber.
"Civilian rule has been suspended. For the next five weeks, the military will take the lead on all war efforts and legal affairs," he declared. "If there's still a country to govern after Sunrest, we'll conduct a census and hold a new election for all council heads and High Court seats. But our current legislative body is done making decisions." His gaze fell to the few politicians still in the chamber, including Gaines and a groggy Bittercress. "You can abide by that and tend to your families in the privacy of your own homes, or we can put you in the Ground with the demons you tried to kill. Your choice."
The representatives stared at him in utter stupefaction, taking a few extra seconds to process the fact that their easy lives atop the pyramid were over.
"Assuming you don't want to think it over in prison," Beckett added, "I suggest you take your leave before our staff grows tired of protecting you."
Mason nodded, and for once, I was happy to hear the bully in him resurface. "Maybe you should stay in the bunker a while, until things settle down." He quirked an eyebrow. "Revisit your roots."
They finally took the hint, and the last batch of stubborn politicians trickled out the door. Every one of them except Sidney Aimes, who stood in the opposite corner, contemplative and unsure of his place in the world. We locked eyes, and he bowed his head to illustrate his submissiveness and support.
I nodded back.
Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
As people left the building, the remaining crowd broke off into groups—some of whom rallied around the archivist and planned to excavate the books from the bunker. Several groups were angry, while others sounded excited at the prospect of a peace accord. Of course, Siren and Victor's crew were the loudest, reenacting parts of my speech and the justices' pitiful tantrums.
I walked over to the court recorder, grinning as she finished typing up her notes. "You catch all that?"
She swallowed and dipped her chin.
"Good. Include a request for any able-bodied fighters and military aid. Make sure it's gender neutral," I added. "Then go ahead and send it to the rotary press first thing in the morning. We'll be distributing that transcript to every district in Ells before the weekend." I paused, leaning into my intimidating status. "If something happens to it before then, I'll rifle through your memory and see where you might have displaced it. Do we have an understanding?"
She nodded again, frantically this time, and I pivoted on my heels, letting out a giant breath.
I had no idea how Siren did it all day everyday—my heart loathed the icy layer of agency.
I rejoined the others in the center of the courtroom, and we all shared a disbelieving smile. In one evening, we'd spared the government from a lynch mob, removed them from office, scrapped the Gender Clause, and seized power over all military operations. I only wished Will were here to see it.
Victor frowned at us. "Is it me, or did we just become responsible for the survival of the human race?"
"I thought I'd share the burden," I joked, exchanging looks with Mason, who tutted at our inside joke. Then I turned to Rover. "So. What do we do first, Cap?"
"First...we get some sleep," he advised, smiling at me with fond exasperation, just as he'd always gazed at Tom. "If the city hasn't burned to the ground by morning, then we'll start building the army that wins us this war."
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SHEESH. That was a butt-ton of dialogue. Did ya'll make it?? <3