Intermix Nation

  “Thank you,” he says.

  Adamek clearly cares for his mother. Nazirah doesn’t know why she finds this unnerving. She’s never thought about him as a son before, but she guesses it is yet another part he plays. Victoria tentatively touches Adamek’s cheek. There’s a tension and formality between the two of them that Nazirah never experienced with Riva or Kasimir, even when they fought. Nazirah is quickly realizing that there are many unspoken words between the Morgens.

  Victoria’s attention drifts to the mural behind Adamek. “I don’t understand why you’re obsessed with that monstrosity,” she says.

  Adamek stiffens. “I was drawn to it,” he replies, “when I traveled abroad to see the lost ruins.”

  Nazirah is bewildered. Adamek traveled outside of Renatus? He saw the remnants of the Final War, scattering the world’s population around their sole surviving country? No one, Medi or otherwise, is permitted to leave Renatus. Ever.

  Victoria lightly touches the mural. “Yes,” she says. “And it cost us a minor fortune to excavate, transport, and restore for you. And even then we couldn’t fit most of it in here.” She shakes her head. “It’s such a ghastly piece, Damek. Why not let me cover it? I’ll commission the best artist in all of Renatus to paint something worthy of you.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Adamek snaps. “Why are you bringing this up again?”

  “Damek,” she says slowly, “this morbid obsession you have with death is not natural.”

  Wait, what? Aren’t they talking about a painting? When did they start talking about death? Nazirah searches the fresco more carefully. It’s filled with figures climbing onto clouds, all focused around a man with a raised right arm and a lady in blue. She still doesn’t get it. Adamek looks down at his bare hands, clenches them. “Easy to say for someone who never gets their hands dirty,” he says quietly.

  “Damek, please,” Victoria pleads. “I’m not here to argue with you. It isn’t productive for us, and it’s not good for my health. But you’ve changed so much these past few years. You’re almost unrecognizable to me.”

  “I’ve grown up,” he says. “That’s what happens.”

  Fat teardrops streak Victoria’s lovely face. “It’s more than that!” she cries. “You never used to wear the cares you do now! I fear your father and I made a grievous mistake, sending you to the monkey so many years ago. You should have trained here instead, with the other Medis. But we wanted the best for you.”

  “This has nothing to do with that,” he snaps. “I’ve gone against all of my teachings.”

  “Damek,” Victoria implores, “you can still stop! You don’t have to keep doing this, if you don’t want to.”

  His eyes narrow. “I have to do it,” he growls, “despite the fact that I don’t want to. I do it to keep Mediah safe. I do what’s right.”

  “You do what Gabirel tells you to do! What’s easy!” she hisses. “Not what’s right!” Victoria grabs Adamek’s hands, her eyes wildly roaming the sea of scratches. “I never wanted this life for you, Damek,” she says, her voice a shadow of a whisper. “And I am afraid for you, afraid of what you’re becoming … afraid of what you may already be.”

  Adamek wrenches his hands from her. “What you’re saying is blasphemy.”

  “Damek …”

  His voice is cold and bitter. “Please leave. I’ll be down in a moment. We wouldn’t want to keep your guests waiting.”

  Victoria nods tersely, collecting herself. She walks to the door. “I guess it’s a nice painting,” she says finally. “In a primitive, pedestrian sort of way. Who painted it again?”

  Adamek glances at the mural. “Someone named Michel, I think,” he says. “Michel of the angels. I found it in a collapsed church over the Eastern Sea. The souls on the left are rising into heaven while the souls on the right are descending into hell. And their god is in the center, judging them all.”

  “Adamek,” Victoria whispers, “there can be a better way to live. We can be better.”

  Adamek turns around, but she’s already gone.

  Nazirah watches the carefully constructed mask of Adamek Morgen shatter into pieces. He bangs his fists on the wall, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against it.

  Adamek stays like that for a long time, breathing hard, before walking to his desk and sitting down. He reaches into the bottom left-hand drawer, moving some books aside to reveal a hidden compartment. Pulling out another silver case, smaller than the one that holds the Iluxor, Adamek enters the same four digit code on this keypad and opens it. He retrieves a thin needle and a small bottle filled with black ink. Adamek meticulously wipes the needle, inhaling deeply. He opens the bottle, dipping the needle into it with such care it makes Nazirah sick. Nazirah wants to look away but she can’t. She knows exactly what he’s doing. Adamek told her once that Medis believe in nothing except power. But if Adamek believes in anything, it’s this.

  Like it’s his religion, Adamek zealously takes the inky needle tip and pushes it into the back of his hand, skillfully etching a small black scratch. It bleeds only a little. Nazirah watches as he makes one more scratch on his hand before returning the items to the case. Two unremarkable scratches already lost in a dark ocean. But Nazirah knows they represent two innocent lives Adamek has taken this night.

  Adamek pulls out a pistol from his jacket pocket. He places the gun inside the case as well, locks it, and returns it to the secret compartment. He clasps his hands together on the desk, as if in prayer. A tear mars his face. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Victoria,” he says sadly. “But I don’t know how else to live.”

  Adamek rises from his desk, moving towards the door. Nazirah gets a strange feeling in her gut that tells her not to follow him just yet. She looks from Adamek to the drawer where the gun is safely hidden, a nagging suspicion creeping into her mind. Almost against her own will, Nazirah moves closer to Adamek’s desk and stands directly over it. She feels the pull of his memory, dragging her away. But she can’t leave yet, not until she knows for sure. She scans the contents of the desk, feels the nausea hit when she finds what she’s looking for. The date is April 4th, the day her parents died.

  He’s just murdered them.

  Nazirah’s chest constricts and her throat tightens. She wants to leave Adamek’s memory … now. But she’s either injected too much serum or the memory isn’t over, because she can’t leave. She’s at the mercy of Adamek’s mind.

  Adamek’s memory flashes forward. Nazirah watches distantly as he returns to the party, laughing and joking with friends. Victoria and Gabirel dance together, smiling in each other’s arms. The music winds down like a broken accordion. The crowd peters out. The handlers return the animals to their cages. Adamek searches for his parents, unable to find them.

  Nazirah unwillingly follows him back towards his room, tired and emotionally drained. To Nazirah’s surprise, Adamek passes it by. He turns down a new hallway and knocks on a door to his right. He enters a feminine room full of pinks and pastels. It’s clearly Victoria’s private chambers. Nazirah knows he’s here to apologize for his behavior. She’s annoyed at having to watch them reconcile, when he so easily just destroyed her entire family. But Victoria isn’t here.

  Adamek turns to leave, but something catches his eye. There’s a puddle of water pooling outside the door Nazirah assumes leads to Victoria’s bathroom, slightly staining the white carpet. And Nazirah knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she absolutely does not want to see what’s behind that door.

  Don’t ask a question, if you don’t want to know the answer.

  His words taunt her now, egging her on. Nazirah tries to run away, but is propelled forward by the relentless memory.

  Adamek walks towards the door. His face is confused, but there’s dread there; Nazirah recognizes it well.

  Adamek reaches his hand out, shaking slightly. He rests it on the doorknob. Nazirah prays for the door to be locked, but of course it isn’t. It swings open in one motion, revealing the tab
leau before them. And, in that moment, so many of Nazirah’s questions are answered. In that moment, she understands Adamek Morgen perfectly. She knows exactly why he rejected the Medis, knows exactly why Nikolaus trusts him, and knows exactly why he’s joined the rebellion. And she wishes, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she didn’t.

  Victoria Morgen lies in the overflowing bathtub, skin pruning and pale. Her head lolls to one side, mouth slightly ajar. The tap is still running, crystal clear from the faucet. But the water spilling from the sides of the tub is tainted a deep crimson.

  Gabirel Morgen, Adamek’s father, sits casually beside her on the drenched edge. He strokes Victoria’s lifeless cheek, nonchalantly smoking a cigar. His gun rests in one relaxed hand, no longer needed, long forgotten.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nazirah opens her eyes in Nikolaus’s office and finds she is screaming. She bites the inside of her arm and grips the edge of the desk. She sinks onto the floor, gasping, trying to catch her breath.

  What has she done? If Nazirah had any inkling that she would see that, she would have never used the Iluxor!

  Gagging, Nazirah returns the Iluxor to the briefcase. She chokes back a sob as she hides the used syringe in the garbage. Returning the briefcase to the bookshelf, Nazirah curses herself for her curiosity.

  She unlocks Nikolaus’s door, practically running out of his office. Nazirah is aware that she looks completely distraught, but she needs to get out of there as quickly as possible. She glances up at the clock and is shocked to find that she’s been inside the Iluxor for only five minutes. Five minutes!

  She shouldn’t be surprised; her world has changed completely in less time.

  Nazirah walks towards her room, shaking, grateful that fate doesn’t place anyone she knows in her path. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter, because she’s afraid she might collapse if she does.

  This is it. This is the reason Adamek joined the rebellion. His father killed his mother. Why, Nazirah doesn’t know. But Victoria’s unintentional last request was for Adamek to be better, and that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. And get his vengeance at the same time.

  How has Victoria’s death not made headlines? How has this been kept secret?

  Nazirah thinks about the massive news storm surrounding her parents’ death. Gabirel Morgen had not only used Riva and Kasimir as a scapegoat for the rebellion, he had also used them to divert attention from the murder of his wife. There is no massive search for a cure for Victoria Morgen, because she’s already dead. She’s been dead for months.

  Nazirah abruptly turns into the girls’ lavatory. It’s empty and Nazirah runs to the nearest stall, locking the door. She breathes in deeply through her nose, trying to collect herself. Not caring if anyone walks in anymore, Nazirah sits down on the cold floor, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her head on her knees.

  Everything makes sense now, but nothing makes sense at all. Nazirah has more unanswered questions than ever. Adamek’s Medi tattoo changed, but why? What the hell is the monkey? Why is Victoria dead? Why did Gabirel hide it? What kind of a twisted freak is Adamek’s father?

  God, she doesn’t want this.

  Nazirah doesn’t want to feel anything for Adamek besides hate. She doesn’t want to pity him, doesn’t want to understand him. She only wants the hate, the hate that blocks out every other emotion. But she doesn’t just hate him anymore. She hasn’t for a while. And she hates that. She hates it so much.

  It’s his worst memory, finding his mother murdered. Exactly the same as hers. She almost laughs at the sick irony of it all, hating that they’re more alike than she knew.

  Does he force himself to relive that memory over and over, hoping to deal with the overwhelming grief? Does he also feel like a failure, like a disappointment? Feel like he could have prevented it all, if only he did the right thing to begin with?

  She knows why Adamek understands the guilt that haunts her. It haunts him too.

  Nikolaus must know. From the way he looked at Adamek in his office, Nazirah thinks he’s probably seen that exact memory as well. It’s probably why he trusted Adamek in the first place. If only Nazirah had trusted Nikolaus.

  Nazirah knows Adamek will murder her if he finds out. She knows it like she knows her name. And she has to work with him over the next several weeks. How is she supposed to hide this from him, when she can’t seem to hide anything from him?

  Nazirah’s breathing slowly returns to normal. She eventually gets up from the bathroom floor and walks out the door, leaving several surprised, primping girls behind. Making the short journey to her room, she collapses in a heap on her bed, face puffy, body exhausted, and soul weary.

  Kasimir, Riva, Aneira, and now Victoria.

  The blood can be washed away. But Nazirah’s memory is stained for good.

  #

  A long time later, or maybe not long at all, someone knocks on her door. Nazirah can’t muster the energy to answer it. “Come in,” she calls out weakly.

  Thankfully, the person on the other side of the door hears her. The door swings open, unsurprisingly revealing Cato. Cato steps inside, surprisingly revealing Lumi. Even more surprisingly, revealing Lumi holding a slice of cake.

  Cato and Lumi both shoot Nazirah worried looks. Cato takes in her haggard, blotchy appearance in sympathy, almost relief. “We heard about your assignment,” he says.

  Lumi closes the door and sits beside Nazirah on the bed, offering her the slice. Nazirah accepts it, even though she can’t stomach anything. Cato drops onto Nazirah’s chair. “Everyone’s been talking about it,” Lumi says.

  Nazirah can barely process what they are saying. It feels like an eternity ago that Nikolaus asked her to campaign around Renatus with Adamek and Aldrik. Do Cato and Lumi really think that is why she’s so upset? It seems so unimportant now.

  “Thanks for the cake.”

  It’s all she can get out. She sits up slowly, head cloudy. Nazirah doesn’t want to, but she takes a big bite, hoping that a full mouth will diminish her responsibility to speak. It’s not that she doesn’t trust them. Even though Lumi can be self-absorbed, Nazirah knows she can keep a secret. And Nazirah trusts Cato with her life. But this thing with Adamek is so private, so sensitive, that she can’t share it with anyone. Including her closest friends.

  “It was my idea,” Lumi says. “Cato just went along with it.”

  Nazirah raises an eyebrow at Cato, who shrugs noncommittally. “How are you handling it?” he asks.

  Nazirah chooses to answer honestly. “Isn’t it obvious?” she sighs. “I’m not.”

  “It’ll be okay, Irri,” Cato says seriously. “Aldrik will be there to protect you from Morgen. You don’t even have to acknowledge that piece of shit, except when you’re giving your speeches or whatever else Niko wants you to do.”

  Lumi stiffens slightly at the mention of Adamek. As usual, Cato notices nothing. Nazirah doesn’t respond. If only it were that easy. If only she could just ignore him. “And think about the opportunity you have,” Lumi says, unusually compassionate. “To travel and really make an impact on the rebellion! You’ll see the country, including Zima! And you’ll get to go back home.”

  Nazirah brightens considerably. “You’re absolutely right, Lumi!” she says. “I completely forgot, but Niko mentioned going to Rafu.”

  “See?”

  It’s definitely strange that Lumi could cheer Nazirah up better than Cato, but it goes with the rest of the day. “I think I need to sleep it off,” Nazirah says, forcing another bite of cake. “It’s been a really long day, for all of us. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Honestly.”

  They both get the hint, standing up but still hovering.

  Nazirah chews the cake slowly, hoping they leave before she either vomits or spills her guts. Cato gently squeezes her shoulder. Lumi, much to Nazirah’s surprise, embraces her awkwardly. They finally leave.

  Nazirah immediately spits the cake into her garbage and returns to staring at the wall.

>   #

  Monday comes mercilessly. Lumi left for Zima the night before. The lingering recruits threw one last party in her honor. They won’t see one another again for several weeks, when their fates will intertwine like the cord of a life preserver – or the rope of a noose.

  Live or die, in it together.

  Cato comes to Nazirah’s room as promised, completely hungover. His hair is still matted from sleeping. He stretches his stiff limbs before grabbing Nazirah’s luggage.

  Nazirah slings her remaining bag over her shoulder. She didn’t know what to pack. Nikolaus told her to prepare for drastic climate changes throughout the territories. Nazirah’s already experienced the overwhelming dry heat of the Red West, but has no idea what to expect in Zima or Osen. She’s immensely excited at the prospect of seeing snow for the first time. But she doubts her usual shorts and light tops are appropriate there. And it’s not like she could afford anything else.

  What is the face of the rebellion supposed to look like, anyhow? Nazirah feels completely unprepared.

  “It’s going to be so weird without you,” Cato says.

  In their thirteen years of friendship, this will be the first time they’ll be separated for more than a few days. Their relationship has been strained lately. There’s so much Nazirah has hidden from him in the past few weeks. She knows he’s picked up on her vagueness. Nazirah wonders if maybe this time apart will be good for them.

  Cato carries her bags down the stairwell, yawning into his arm as they exit the staircase and walk towards the front entrance. Nazirah rolls her eyes. “You seem really broken up about it.”

  He grabs her arm once they’re outside. “Hey,” he says gently. “Stop that. You know I’m no good when I’ve just woken up.”

  “When you’re hungover, you mean.”

  “Or that,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

  “You clearly kept the party going after I left last night.” She laughs.