The next morning I'm awoken by a frantic Anton who looks at me with clear panic in his eyes. I'm just about to jump up when he whispers, "The door's opening."
"And he's right. I hear the jingle of a key in the lock. I scrunch my face at him and am just about to tell him you don't wake people up for doors opening, when I and realize the scrunching doesn't hurt my nose – an injury which should have taken weeks to heal, gone in a night. My shoulder's probably fine too.
"So?" I groan instead.
"We're naked," Anton hisses, and I almost manage to laugh as the door swings inwards and Dr. Max enters.
"Jesus," he says and takes a step back, waving a hand at himself. "What have you been doing in here?"
"Go away, "I grumble and bury my face in the madras. I have no idea about the whereabouts of the pillow, only a faint memory of needing it to get far away from me. "I want the day off."
"That's not how things work in a rebellion," Dr. Max says with humor in his voice. There is a silence where I can't see what's happening, due to the fact my face is buried in the madras, before Dr. Max says, "I'll come back in ten minutes. Get dressed please." And then the door closes with a click and the spin of the lock.
"I can't believe that just happened," Anton says. When I look up he's hiding his face in his palms, his neck redder than his hair.
"What? Dr. Max?" I ask. "He doesn't care."
"You," Anton says and points at me. "You seduced me."
"I seduced you?" I ask and can't help a doubtful grin from spreading across my face. "How exactly did I seduce you?"
"You used your body and, and your emotions," Anton says. "And it was in the middle of the night and you caught me off guard."
"I am wearing a nose cast," I say.
"Well, it's a hot nose cast," Anton says, which almost makes me laugh.
"Do you regret it?" I ask, barely able to keep the smile out of my voice while I force him to look me in the eyes. He tries to stare back, really make it seem as if I've committed some horrendous crime. But then he blinks, growls something and moves over me to hurry into the bathroom, grabbing his glasses from the floor on the way. They must have fallen from the bed stand but are luckily unharmed. The sandwich is gone. "Do you regret it?" I call after him.
"No!" he bellows back, and I laugh and get out of bed myself. We brush our teeth and Anton shaves. I'm almost sad to see his stubble go, I don't know when he's become able to grow a beard but it's kind of sexy. When I tell him, he rolls his eyes but can't fight a slight blush.
We proceed to put on our coveralls which are not nearly as wrecked as I'd thought. I remember a lot of ripping off clothes, but the uniforms are sturdy and it's only a button on Anton's which has been torn off. He can easily cover it with the zipper brim. He won't stand for the bedsheets though, which has a few noticeable plamages. I tell him to let it be as I strap off the gauze and wooden stump on my nose, but he dries off as much as he can and then makes sure the blanket covers the rest of it.
"There," he says and looks at the made bed.
"Yes, it's astounding," I say monotonously, and then the door rattles again and Dr. Max enters with one hand over his eyes.
"Is it safe?" he asks and I roll my eyes. "No naked males?"
"We might as well be an ad for chastity," I say and Dr. Max grins and uncovers his eyes.
"Well, you certainly consecrated this room," he laughs and I feel Anton shuffle uncomfortably beside me. "You know there's a reason for the bunkbeds, right?"
"Alright, enough with the innuendoes," I say. "Where are we going?"
Dr. Max nods his head out to the hallway. "There's breakfast in the conference room. Gretchen has whipped up some eggs and bacon."
When we enter the conference room, Alle and Poppy already there, my mouth is already watering from the scent of fried food.
"Eat," Alle says and points at the tray in the middle of the table. It's piled with all kinds of eggs and bacon and has both juice and tea together with plates, cups and cutlery. Poppy is at war with a giant pile of scrambled eggs. Alle herself is sitting with a filled plate and drinking from a long mug. Her band aid is gone and there's no evidence she's ever had a cut. "We're still waiting for the others. You might as well."
I don't have to be told twice, and Anton and I both grab a plate and begin stocking it. Dr. Max settles for a mug of tea and leans back into his chair. It turns out Gretchen doesn't just do terrific pies, she also makes a great omelet with mushrooms and cheese and enough spice to fill a country. I've almost finished my plate when Laur and Scarlett joins us.
"Ah, that woman is a Godsend," Scarlett says and grabs a plate too. She's just as dirty as she always is, but I'm sure she must shower because the dirt is different than the dirt from yesterday. "Everybody are starving. We've been working with the electronic chips all morning."
"Any progress?" Alle asks as she gnaws on a piece of bacon, but Scarlett shakes her head.
"Still as wruttenly fried as when we found them," she says. "But we've got a lot more bodies with all the ones that were damaged at yesterday's riot." At this Anton chokes on his eggs and I have to thump him in the back until he gets it gurgled up. Scarlett looks from me to him. "Pacifier bodies," she says with a worried scrunch. "Not humans."
Anton nods and coughs again. "Noted."
"Well, if that's all over," Laur says and takes a sip from his orange juice. I half expect his skin to turn orange, but it stays paper thin and white, "You might be curious as to how the riot went?"
Honestly, I'd rather go back to bed, but that doesn't seem likely to happen so instead of answering I stuff my cheeks with the rest of the omelet and rise to get a refill. Anton sits quietly and waits for Laur to continue which he does with a crackling smile. "It went magnificently," the leader of the revolution says with a grimace so wide I'm not even sure it can be characterized as a smile. "Most of the middle class have joined us, some are still causing trouble but overall it's a victory. We're expecting a backlash soon though, right Alle?" Alle nods and eats another piece of bacon. She looks much less tired today. "Which means we have to be ready," Laur continues. "We need to rally the masses. Have you considered our offer Mr. Thelonious?"
Anton takes a sharp inhale and I notice his thumb nervously fumbling with the edge of his fork. But then he presses his lips together in a line and nods.
"I have," he says.
"And?" Alle asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I've decided to join," Anton says. "I'll publicly support you however you wish me to."
At the news, Scarlett hoots and Dr. Max claps and Alle gives off one of her luminary smiles. Even Poppy seems less dark and brooding than usual.
"This calls for champagne," Laur says. "Quick, somebody go ask Gretchen whether she has any of the bubbly."
"I have a few conditions though," Anton interrupts him, which makes Alle smile.
"I'd be worried if you didn't," she says and I send her a death glare for making Anton feel bad for his slightly naive nature. She ignores me. "Pray tell."
Anton swallows a lump, but he straightens his back too. "I want your word that anybody who surrenders won't be harmed. Whether it's from the streets or the White House. And you have to give everybody an equal chance for surrender too," he says and the room falls silent.
"Well," Dr. Max mumbles and sips his tea. "Is that not the plan?"
"Was," Poppy growls. "We changed it after all the secrets came out and the citizens began craving blood."
"I don't see why we can't readapt it?" Laur says. "After all the hubbub, we might as well."
"It might give us a quicker win," Scarlett says. "Less fighting if the enemy knows they can surrender. Alle?"
"People might be angry," she says. "They want all of the politicians killed. We can't guarantee they'll not be targeted, but we can give them our protection. The public will have to be swayed, but I believe we can do that. Besides," she smiles. "I wouldn't mind making sure Minister Shawthon stays alive."
"Then it's done," Laur says. "Everybody will have the chance to surrender, and everybody surrendering will be treated as an ally with our protection. What else?"
"Uh," Anton blinks as if he wasn't sure he'd get even this far, but he doesn't let it disturb his feigned confidence. "My mother will be granted immunity," he says. "No matter which side she chooses to support, or if she doesn't choose to support any at all. She'll not be harmed and she'll be given a life in whatever new world you're trying to create."
"Oh that's fine," Laur says.
"The first wife has become an idol to the rebels," Poppy says. "Her safety is secured."
"Right," Anton mumbles.
"Was that all?" Laur asks.
"No," Anton says and takes a breath. "I want permission for me and Noah to go up and say goodbye to Garmen. I want to be able to give her a proper burial."
I stop mid-motion in taking a bite and the eggs slide off my spoon to land squished on the plate. I can't help but stare, but Anton doesn't look at me. He looks straight at Laur.
"Who is Garmen?" Laur asks.
"One of Noah's friends," Alle answers before Anton can. "She died in one of the first uproars."
"Oh, well," Laur says. "But, do you have her body then?"
"No," Anton says. "But you don't need a body to say goodbye."
I want to fling myself at him, kiss him all over and never let him go again. The rebels would never let us leave without this condition. They'd keep us here like Laur Berkrans, hidden from the sun like a vampire until our skin turn as paper-like as his. Anton is asking for this favor because of me, and I can't even thank him because I no longer remember how to speak. The only thing I can do is stare wide-eyed at the exchange taking place in front of me.
"We can't secure their safety above ground, and absolutely not in the city," Scarlett says. "Plus, everybody would recognize the son of the Potentate. It's too risky."
Laur frowns and directs his attention at Anton. "Are you sure you've thought this through?" he asks. "It's both of your lives you're gambling with right now. You're only safe down here."
"I'm sure," Anton says with a steel in his voice I've only heard once before when I told him I always knew about his mother's abuse. Laur mumbles something to Poppy who shrugs. All the while Alle is churning her jaw back and forth.
"Let them," she finally says.
"Excuse me?" Poppy snorts as all eyes in the room turn to Alle.
"We need him in the rebellion. If this is his condition then let them have a walk in the city," she says. "We'll get a few people to go with them obviously, and then they can go and spread some of her imaginary ashes or something."
"We can't guarantee their safety," Dr. Max says.
"Nothing is gained if nothing is gambled," Alle says, and I wonder if that's the motto she lives her life by. "We'll record the statement, let them have a couple of hours above ground and then we have a full-fledged uprising with the endorsement of the Potentate's own son."
There is a silence in the room as everybody consider Alle's words. Her opinion obviously weighs heavily, even though it might not be the first choice of everybody else in the room. She's looking directly at Laur with a sort of lazy gaze as if she can't be bothered to take the problem completely serious because it's such an easy solution. Maybe that's how she keeps him controlled, make him feel stupid if he doesn't follow her lead. Talk about group bullying.
"Alright," he says, and I hear myself take in a sharp breath. I know there must be a battle going on inside of Anton, but he keeps his expression tightly clenched as to not give it away. It makes him look almost stubborn.
"It's too risky Laur," Poppy grumbles, "The logistics alone-"
"We'll sort it out," Laur says and waves away the Head of Organization's concerns. "Mr. Thelonious, it seems we have yourselves a deal."
"This is going to be such a nightmare," Poppy grumbles. He pressed two fingers down over the bridge of his nose and leaves the room while mumbling something about trying to get an escort together.
"Well, that finished that brunch," Laur grins and clasps his hands together. "Miss Bronze? Can I leave it to you to make sure he's all fixed and ready?"
"Absolutely," Alle answers. "I just need to talk to Scarlett for a moment, then I'll be back." She rises and nods for Scarlett to walk with her, which she does, abandoning her plate in the process and follows Alle outside.
"Then I'll go make sure there are enough cameras. Dr. Max?"
"On it," Dr. Max says and rises too. "I'll get the speech." He sends us smile and then leaves the room too, followed by Laur who gives us some sort of hand signal and then exclaims an exhilarated laugh before rounding the corner and disappearing.
"Anton?" I say, and my voice is barely a whisper as he meets my gaze. "I can't believe you did that for me."
"I didn't," Anton says. "Not entirely anyway. I decided to join yesterday, but I thought we might as well gain something from it."
"I love you," I say and grab his hands in both of mine. "You are the most wonderful person I have ever known. You are literally the sprinkle to my ice cream. I am completely and utterly in love with you."
"It's nothing," Anton says and shrugs with a nervous laugh.
"It's everything," I say. "Thank you. So much."
I kiss him, trying to put everything I've ever felt about him into this kiss. I want to tell him that I don't care about expectations or reality or the fact that the universe seems determined to make life hard for both of us. I want to tell him that everything good stems from him, that I can see everything worth fighting for in his eyes.
He is trembling as we pull away and lean our foreheads against each other's.
"Am I interrupting?" a voice says and we look up to see Alle standing in the entrance, leaning against the wall.
"Yes," I say the same time Anton blurts, "No."
"There's been a change of plans," Alle says and waves us with her out into the hallway. We rise and follow her. Remembering last night's talk about me being possessive I fight the urge to grab Anton's hand, but he just smiles at me and let them slide together again, clenching my fingers between his own. It takes me a second to realize Alle is still talking. "Since Mafalda's death we've lost her connection at channel fourteen which means we've been forced to search the channels for weak links which doesn't come very often. We're talking every two or three days if we're lucky. As fate would have it, there's going to be one of these weak links through an intermission in about an hour on channel twelve. I won't go into details, but Scarlett thinks she can get through for a few minutes, and therefrom start a chain reaction. We might be able to reach the majority of channels."
"What exactly does that mean?" Anton asks hesitantly.
"It means we have about an hour to get you ready, record your statement, edit it and send it," Alle says just as she opens a door to a room with two people and an abundance of beauty products comparing easily to the locker room at the Cave. "Meet Pia and Mads, they're going to get you ready." Anton nods and swallows a lump.
Pia and Mads don't wrut around. They make Anton sit down and strip off his shirt with fast and experienced movements. They clean him up, file his nails and wash his hair and then decide they might as well just cut it for good measure, so they do. When it's all dry and bouncy it's an inch shorter and a lot curlier, his eyes unconcealed by everything but his glasses. They discuss whether they should let them stay on or take them off, but finally decide on letting them stay considering he's supposed to be recognized and the public has never seen him without glasses on. They only remove them to put on a mask of makeup, evening out is freckles and making the bags underneath his eyes disappear. Anton sits still and takes it all although he sneezes from some kind of powder at one point, and when they're done he looks older and unattainably good-looking with fiercely painted eyes.
The two people look at Alle for judgement and she crosses her arms and nods with a satisfied smile.
"How do I look?" Anton asks, half-joking.
"Like the stuff of dreams," I say honestly which makes him blush hard enough even the makeup mask can't cover it entirely.
"You look like someone people will follow to the end of the world," Alle says. "No kissing. Save it for after."
I want to lean in and kiss him anyway, just to spite her, but I don't. Anton deserves to get this over with as fast as possible. Through his hand, I can feel his pulse thumbing away with 200 beats per minute.
"Come," Alle continues. "They should be all set in the studio by now."
Anton jumps off the chair he's been sitting in and we follow Alle out and into another room which is filled with camera chairs, people with microphones and others milling around a white set, being whipped around by Poppy's sharp barks. Somebody is dragging a black chair in beside a white wooden table. The whole set-up gives off a certain White House vibe which has to be on purpose. Laur is in the middle of making some sort of grand hand gesture to explain something when he hears us and turns into a giant grin. His eyes are as green as ever.
"Well well well, don't you look dashing," he laughs and touches the edge of Anton's coveralls. "Rebel clothes?"
"We want the people to see him that way. Not dressed up like a mannequin," Alle says and I have to work hard to contain a snort. What exactly have they been doing for the last half hour then?
"You see Mr. Thelonious," Laur says and points at the white table and chair. "This is where you'll sit as we record you. Do you have the script yet?"
"Uhm, no," Anton says.
"Well, we can fix that," Laur says with a guffaw and slaps Anton on the back before he staggers across the stage while roaring, "Beaky! We need a print of the script!"
"Let's get you installed," Alle says and waves Anton with her. I'm about to follow but she holds out a hand. "It' not the show anymore. You're not the spotlight today."
"Was I ever?" I growl, and her smile turns poisonous.
"Good point," she says. "Stay behind the cameras and don't make any sound."
Anton sends me an apologetic gaze. He looks as if he's about to say something, but I shake my head and mouth 'go' and he bites his lip and does.
I stand back and watch as Alle makes him sit down and Pia and Mads arrive to dash even more makeup on his face until it's sharply outlined against the whiteness of the background. After a few minutes of Alle talking to him about how she wants him to behave on screen, the girl who brought us the uniforms, Beaky, comes and gives Anton a slip of paper before fleeing the room with her braids flailing behind her. Anton skims the words, mouths a few of them, asks Alle about something which she answers and then sits back in the chair and nods. He's fumbling with the edge of his paper and mouthing along the sentences again as Poppy calls for everybody to clear the scene, and then another light is lit, illuminating Anton's face as Alle goes to stand beside one of the cameramen. Poppy raises his hand and the whole room goes quiet. Even Laur quietens his own laughter.
"All ready?" Poppy calls. "Cameras?"
"Ready," the two cameramen say.
"Sound?"
"Ready."
"Anton?"
"Ready," he says weakly before clearing his throat. "Ready."
"We're recording in three, two, one," Poppy points at Anton who takes a deep breath to look into the camera.
"America," he says. "My name is Anton-" he stutters, stumbles over his last name and then puts his head down on his arm.
"Cut!" Poppy calls.
"I'm sorry," Anton groans and rubs his eyes underneath his glasses. "I can do this, just give me one second."
"Is the boy alright?" I hear Laur lean in and whisper to a sound man beside him who shrugs. I truly hope Anton hasn't heard it, but he's still hiding his face in his hands and breathing deeply. I'm just about to walk onto the set when Alle beats me to it.
"Anton," she says. "Are you sure you're alright? Do you need time to rehearse?"
"No," Anton groans into his palms. "I just, I don't know. I just need a moment."
Alle nods and turns away from the stage, but she doesn't go to her previous spot. Instead she walks up to me with calm steps and nods towards Anton.
"Go to him," she says. I don't even hesitate before I surge forward and onto the stage where I crouch onto my knees and lean in over the table.
"Hey," I say softly and quietly as I take Anton's hands away from his face and wrap them into mine. He looks at me through the glasses. The makeup makes him more beautiful, but it also makes him look cold and aloof and not at all like the boy I know and love. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to," I say and try to rub some warmth into his fingers.
"But I do want to," he says just as quietly as me. "I just – I just needed a moment to think. I'm okay now."
"Are you sure?" I ask. "You can have as long many moments as you'd like. They'll find another weak link at some point."
Anton lets out a breath. "It's weird," he says halfway into a daydream. "I've never been this important before. Up until you revealed the truth about my mother, I hadn't even been on television."
"And now you're the highest prize," I say and see him scrunch his face in discomfort, but it also makes him smile. "You can do this Anton, you can rally the troops or whatever. And if it's your family you're worried about?" I shake my head. "We'll figure out something. Your father doesn't need to die if you want him to stay alive. He can still surrender. With your conditions, you've given him a chance. Provided the rebels keep up their end of the bargain that is."
The last is supposed to be a joke, but Anton doesn't laugh. He only nods and presses his lips into a thin line.
"Mr. Berkrans," a breathless voice rasps and Scarlett comes running into the room. "We've passed the window of editing-time, we'll have to wait until the next weak link."
"Oh bother," Laur says as Alle curses under her breath.
"That'll be days from now," she says. "We need the momentum."
"I can do it live," Anton says, shocking everyone including me as all eyes turn on him. "You can send it live, right? Put me through. I can deliver the speech, I know I can. Put me through live."
"Can we even do that?" Poppy asks with his brows scrunched down over his dark eyes.
"Theoretically," Scarlett says and her eyes are zooming in and out like she's reading a blueprint from the air. "But we have to decide now if we're going to have time."
"Miss Bronze?" Laur says, but Alle shakes her head.
"This is your call Laur. I can't make it for you." Or she doesn't want the fail on her hands.
"Dr. Max would let him do it," I say out of the blue, rising from my kneel. "He'd have faith in the Potentate son. He'd know the masses will respond much better to it being send live too."
Laur takes a deep, rattling breath.
"Well, we can't win a war without some chances," he says with a grin but his forehead is glistening with nervous sweat and I can clearly hear Alle's words behind that sentence. "Miss Miller, you have my go."
"Can I get some foundation over here?" Mads calls and then I'm politely pushed away as he and Pia refresh Anton's smudged makeup. Anton sits like a statue and lets them do whatever they want to his face. All the while Scarlett is barking orders to people running in and out the room, connecting the cameras to long wires and talking about 'satellite reception' and how it might still be possible to 'attain the domino effect'. There are about two minutes of chaos before the makeup artists run off stage and Anton straightens with the paper between his hands.
"All ready?" Poppy calls again. Scarlett switches on something from a boulder of a pad she's brought with her. It lights up in green and she gives off a sigh and a thumbs-up. I've somehow ended up standing beside Alle who hasn't moved. "How long?"
"Thirty seconds," Scarlett says, looking at her watch and the brick-like pad.
"How long do I have?" Anton asks through all the hectic turmoil.
"Seven minutes tops," Scarlett says.
"Should be more than enough," Alle says. "Just deliver the lines calmly and slowly, alright?" Anton swallows a lump and nods.
"Cameras?" Poppy demands
"Ready," the two cameramen say again, this time synchronized perfectly.
"Sound?"
"Ready."
"Anton?"
"Ready," he says with real force behind his voice.
"Six seconds," Scarlett yells.
"And we're live in in three, two, one," Poppy calls and Anton looks straight into the camera just as silence falls around us.
"America," he begins without hesitation. "My name is Anton Thelonious, son of Remus and Hera Thelonious. And it has come to my attention that the Potentate, my father, has been running this country much like he raised me: With negligence, and a complete disregard for empathy. And I have grown tired of living underneath his shoe. Today I am finally free. This is my official statement that I have joined a cause – a cause to rid the country of this oppression, to free the people and take down the persecutor responsible for our predicament. This is my official statement that I have joined the rebellion against my father. And I'm asking you, scientists, professors, farmers, teachers, cashiers, prostitutes, and everybody else. I'm asking you humbly for your help to take him down. For your help to secure the fate of your children, your grandchildren and yourself. For your help to bring this nation to prosperity. And by doing so, to support a new, better Potentate candidate who single-handedly have brought the rebellion together, who is fighting this Patriarchy even now as I speak, and who have not once oppressed a single person to gain power. This is my official statement that I, Anton Thelonious, endorse and support Laur Berkrans as the next Potentate in a new world where Pacifier brutality is a prehistoric term and class segregation are foreign words. In return for my endorsement Mr. Berkrans has promised me that no one surrendering will be harmed – not from the cities and not from the Government-" This trigger a small wave of gasps between the people in the room and I know these words are not in the script. And suddenly I can't help but feel a certain pride. Anton is standing up for what he believes in more than ever now, choosing to out the rebellion's promises on national tv and thereby forcing them to keep them. I wasn't even aware he had the guts to do that. "-This includes Ministers as well as civilians," he continues, "And together, we will build a new era not reliant on a lower class to keep the wealthy rich, not a middle class too scared of doing anything but falling into line." He holds a pause and licks his lips. When he looks into the camera again, there is a softness in his voice, halfway between desire and prayer. "Father, I am now speaking directly to you. You abused my mother, abandoned me, exploited the very people a leader's job it is to protect. If it's a war you want, then that's what you'll get. But If you're listening, I'm begging you to stop this meaninglessness of killing each other. You've already bombed Washington. What's next? Destroying New York with nuclear missiles? Annihilate Los Angeles with armies of Pacifiers? Or will you lay down your arms and come out from your hiding place and face me like I ought to be faced? A peaceful solution is all I want, but if you keep killing innocents fighting for their lives, killing families and children and friends and loved ones, if you keep anymore secrets, I will personally fight you, and I will bring the very war which will be your downfall with me. Thank you."
There is silence as he sits back in the chair, silence as he waits for it to finish.
"Cut," Poppy finally calls, but his voice is the only sound in the room.
"Okay," I say and lean into Alle. "How much of that was him?"
"About half," she says and cocks her head to the side, staring at him. "I wonder if he's planned it. Weaving Laur's promises into the speech? He must have thought about doing it."
I look up at Anton whose hands are trembling. He's all innocence and moral which he got from his adoptive mother, but he did grow up with the Potentate for a father. No matter how negligent Remus Thelonious was to his son Anton was still exposed to the act of keeping secrets. How much of the Potentate's planning and slyness have taken hold in Anton's brain?
But whatever he did, whether he played a nervous wreck to stretch out the time or whether his speech was fueled by sudden adrenaline, he did it for the people and for peace. It still makes him a much better person than everybody else in this room.
"Mr. Thelonious," Poppy's voice, dark and brooding and even slightly threateningly, travels across the room. "That wasn't the speech."
"It was," Anton says and he's trembling but he's holding Poppy's gaze. "The only addition was the promises of surrender you've already given me. And the message to my father."
"We've never promised peace," Laur says in an uncharacteristic moment of seriousness. "We need chaos."
I have no doubt left that he's Alle's puppet – he sounds just like her.
"Chaos is not the only way to win a revolution," I hear myself say.
"It is to win this one," Alle says and throws out her arms. "People are thirsting for blood. They don't want amity, they want a massacre. They demand heads rolling in the streets and I don't blame them. I would too if I'd been treated like bacteria my whole life. These people in this very room are all people who have survived the horrors of the lower class and have nowhere else to go. Who here wants to see blood?" she asks loudly and one after the other, every hand in the room rise. I hear the faint sound of Anton's gasp from the stage.
I stare at her. Yes, I want to see blood too. I want to see the Potentate's head on a stick, I want to see him shot and drowned and whipped and tortured. But he's still somewhat Anton's father, and Anton will do everything in his power to protect him.
"Peace is not an option here," Alle says.
"Peace is always and option," I snarl at her. "Unless you're a coward."
She opens her mouth. I can imagine it's to call me by every fowl name in the book, but before she has the chance a voice sounds.
"Leave the boys be," it says and I turn to see Dr. Max saunter into the room, his eyes fastened on Laur. "Mr. Thelonious did what you asked of him Laur, he gave you his endorsement. We'll figure out a way to get your face out to people, and then the middle class will be yours as long as you don't demand them to stay passive. Isn't that right Alle?"
"Sure is," Alle says with a bright luminary grin, her whole face having changed within the blink of an eye. "We have the endorsement, you can squash the rumors of peace later. How many channels did it air on?"
"Uh, about 40% of them," Scarlett says with her face bend over the pad. "It's pretty good considering how we threw it together in five minutes. I'd say there's a good chance at least some of those who saw it have recorded it. It should be on the dark parts of social media within six minutes of its finish." Her pad beeps and a grin spread across her face. "Scratch that, it only took three minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Harmon Lovecast is already getting ready to interview luminaries."
"See?" Dr. Max says calmly. "Chaos is already erupting."
"Which means I should get back," Alle says. "If Harmon Lovecast is doing interviews, I'm sure I'll be on his list of luminaries. It won't do falling off the grid now. Laur, I believe Dr. Max is right. Mr. Thelonious did as he was told, he deserves to have fulfilled the rest of his conditions."
Laur nods and then breaks into another smile which, except for the initial convulsion, doesn't seem forced at all.
"Well, let's get you up and running then," he says. "You must be long overdue for some fresh air anyway." And then he sighs as if he's been forced to give away the love of his life at her wedding to his best friend.
"Scarlett?" Alle says and Scarlett snaps out of a trance she's been in. "Would you follow me out?"
"Yes," Scarlett nods and crosses the room while she calls for her people to take down the live-stream and break the satellite link before one of the three connected tv-station realizes we're using it. She turns with a nod towards Anton. "Anton," she says.
"Scarlett," he answers with a vague flutter of his lips. She looks as if she's about to says something more but decide against it and the two women disappear.
"I could use a good bed," Laur says and he does look paler than usual which, in his case, is nearly impossible.
"You should go get something to strengthen you," Dr. Max says to him and waves Anton over. Anton stands up and hastily stumbles down the stage and over to us. Just feeling his presence beside me is calming. "I'll take Mr. Canner and Mr. Thelonious into the city."
"Right," Laur says. "Well then, I'm off to find either alcohol or madrasses. May you have a good trip," he says and nods to Anton and me before he staggers off too, looking like a man having a heart attack.
"Poppy," Dr. Max says. "Will you help take down the set?"
Poppy stares at us, all three of us. He looks half ice sculpture half fire. Without answering he barks out an order and people immediately begin bustling, getting too busy tearing down the set to stare at us.
"Come with me," Dr. Max says and I grab for Anton's hand as we move out of the room. His palm is sweaty and I can feel the race of his pulse through his wrist as we take a brusque walk down the hallway. A few people pass us, whisper and point. There's even a woman who spits at Anton's feet which makes him turn instantly pale. Dr. Max yells something at her and she mutters an apology and then quickly leaves.
"I had no idea," Anton rasps. "I didn't know everybody wanted war more than they wanted peace."
"It's a revolution," Dr. Max says. "What did you expect?"
"Mercy," I say, feeling a sudden savvy need to protect him. "He expected mercy."
Dr. Max gets a melancholic look in his eyes. "I once expected that too," he says. He leads us upwards through the staircase and the broom closet and into the farmhouse. In the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of Gretchen stirring something in one of two giant pots. She watches as we ascend out into the open.
"So you vant peace, eh?" she asks with her face expressionless. Of course, she's seen the live statement too.
"I want people to live," Anton says after a heartbeat of silence. Gretchen nods. Her eyes flicker to our joined hands, then back up at Anton.
"I have forgotten how peace looks like. Maybe bein rrreminded vouldn't be vorrrst zing." She lets go of a heavy, tired sigh. "But, everrrything forrr the rrrevolution. Right?"
"Yes," Dr. Max says. "Everything for the revolution."
Gretchen nods and proceeds to turn her gaze out of the window, stirring calmly.
"You better wash off your face," Dr. Max says and points at a small wooden door. "Use the bathroom. I'll see if I can find some clothes you won't be recognized in."
Then he disappears down the stairs again and I haul Anton with me into the bathroom. There's not much space and only a faint light illuminating the peeling wallpaper, but just being alone with nobody looking over my shoulder makes my breathing come easier.
"Was it a bad thing, what I did?" Anton asks.
"No," I say immediately. "You stood up for what you believe in."
"But nobody agrees," he says. "Everybody are determined on war. Even you."
"Wash your face," I say in a mild tone. "You look like my friends, the prostitutes."
Anton whelps out a laugh and makes me hold his glasses as he washes the makeup from his skin. With every splash of water he seems less cold. Less like a politician and more like a human. When he's done we take turns peeing, maneuvering ourselves around each other in the tiny bathroom. I'm just putting my coveralls on again when there is a knock, and when I open a hand holds our fresh clothes. Not only did the good doctor bring us a change of outfit, he also brought two armored guards who could be siblings with their long dark hair and olive-tainted skin. They don't look like armored guards, at first glance they just look like doped cage fighters which is common enough in the lower parts of the city, but I notice guns tugged into belt holsters and a knife collection on the woman's wrist underneath her sleeve. The male of the two is the only one of them who smiles back when I send them a lopsided grin, and even that seems to be more out of habit than joy. It takes me a moment to place them, but then I realize they were there the night Garmen died.
Since the bathroom doesn't have room for two to change clothes in, and when Anton tells me to change first, I tell him it's been my job for years to get naked. Then I strip down in the middle of the hallway with the guards, Dr. Max and Gretchen in full view, which makes him blush and hurry into the bathroom to change himself.
Dr. Max has found jeans for both of us, roughly fitting in size and shape. But where I can settle for a t-shirt and a grey-ish jacket, Anton has to zip his raincoat all the way to the throat and put on both a wig of dark brown hair, very unlike his usual auburn locks, and a hat.
"One can never be too careful," Dr. Max says. "Are you ready?"
"What is it exactly we're doing?" I ask. It's been such a mayhem I haven't had a chance to perceive whether we're being thrown out of the resistance. For all I know, we could be on our way to negotiate peace with the Potentate, although that option seems unlikely.
"We're fulfilling Anton's third condition," Dr. Max says. "We're going into the city so you can say goodbye to your friend."