Nazirah walks sluggishly into the shared girls’ lavatory on her floor, thankful to see no one she knows. She quickly brushes her teeth and splashes water on her face, trying to erase the red from her bloodshot eyes.
She has her mother’s eyes: honeyed irises, almond-shaped, heavy-lidded with thick lashes. She also shares Riva’s olive skin and slender build. As a child, Nazirah hated being compared to her mother. She always thought of Riva as weak, and longed to be like the strong Kasimir.
Riva was never weak.
Nazirah didn’t realize that until it was too late.
Now, Nazirah likes to think a part of Riva lives within her – and that, every time she looks into a mirror, it’s her mother who stares back.
She can’t quite convince herself. Riva was always smiling.
Deep in thought, Nazirah braids her hair nimbly down her back, the strands bleached with copper highlights. “Cato’s looking for you,” someone behind her says.
Nazirah jumps and whirls around to face Aneira. “God, Ani, you scared me! You can’t sneak up on people like that!”
“Sorry.” Aneira shrugs half-heartedly.
Aneira is fifteen, and has not yet grown into herself. She is tall, but gangly and flat-chested. She has Lumi’s beautiful blue eyes, but her facial features look out of proportion, their angles not quite working.
Nazirah feels unusually protective of her. Aneira seems lost too. Sometimes, Nazirah wants to give Aneira a huge hug and tell her everything will be all right, even though she doesn’t believe it herself.
“It’s okay,” Nazirah sighs, the annoyance in her voice gone. “I just get startled easily. Do you know what he wants?”
“I think he wants to make sure you’re okay,” Aneira says. “You weren’t in Territory History tonight, but he covered for you. Again.”
“Great,” says Nazirah, making a mental note to visit Cato after speaking with Niko. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Sure.”
Nazirah should ask Aneira how she is doing. Aneira is so unlike Lumi or even Yuki, both social creatures by nature. Aneira is quiet and introverted, and that’s probably why Nazirah likes her so much. But Nazirah really is late now, so she exits the bathroom without another word.
Nazirah walks quickly towards Nikolaus’s office on the other side of the building. She hopes that whatever this ‘matter of extreme importance’ concerns, Niko will make it short. It’s late, and it’s Friday, and Nazirah wants to sleep. Could Niko know about her and Cato sneaking tequilux from the kitchens last weekend? She doesn’t think it’s likely.
She smiles a bit, remembering. A few of the younger recruits gathered around a bonfire, drinking and laughing and dancing. Nazirah was happier that night than she had been in a long time, if only fleetingly.
Nazirah hopes Niko won’t try to convince her to sell their cottage again, before the government seizes it. Intermix are forbidden from owning property. Their cottage was listed under Riva’s name, because she was technically still an Eridian. But now it belongs to no one. Niko mentioned selling it a few months ago. Nazirah was so blindsided by the suggestion, she went berserk on him. He hasn’t brought it up again.
Nazirah also hopes Cato is wrong, and that Niko won’t get on her case about missing class. She has a feeling that might be where this is headed, but it still doesn’t explain the urgency. Unless the rebels already have her bags packed and out the door or something, which Nazirah cannot say she would hate.
Arriving at her destination, Nazirah walks in without bothering to knock.
Most people would never guess Nikolaus and Nazirah are siblings. Unlike Nazirah, who resembles Riva, Nikolaus Nation is the spitting image of Kasimir. Nikolaus is tall and built like a tree, with bulging arms, broad shoulders, and a wide trunk. His skin is pale, eyes a deep, earthy brown. His hair slightly curls at the top. Nikolaus is reserved, but not quiet. He is kind, but not compassionate; he is calculating, but not deceptive. Like Kasimir, Nikolaus has a laugh that can win over the greatest enemy.
Nazirah has not heard it in a very long time.
Nikolaus is currently hunched over his desk, deep in conversation with a group of strategists, advisors, and fellow commanders. The other two commanders are a pair of stalwart Red West twins, Glumindo and Badoomi. Nazirah and Cato affectionately refer to them privately as Gloom and Doom. Gloom and Doom are usually holed up in the control tower, in charge of weapons technology, defense, and surveillance. Nikolaus is responsible for strategy, offense, and reconnaissance.
Nikolaus looks abnormally stressed. From the back of the room, Nazirah can see his left eye twitching. It is a tic he developed as a child whenever he got anxious. Nazirah hasn’t seen it occur in years. It’s very unsettling.
Niko’s desk overflows with loose papers and books. Some files spill onto the floor as he rifles through them. Nazirah quietly sits in the back of the room, listening curiously.
“I don’t care if he’s on leave,” Nikolaus is saying. “I need to talk to him. Bring him in.”
Nazirah’s attention drifts around the makeshift office. A huge, inked map of Renatus, divided by color into five regions, is pinned to one wall. Thumbtacks are pushed in at various locations, and certain cities have been circled emphatically in red. A large projector hangs near the corner, constantly looping government propaganda speeches, currently on mute. Stacks of yellowing newspapers from every territory, in every language, are piled floor to ceiling.
Sergeant Patch – Aldrik – scribbles Niko’s ramblings vehemently on a ledger. Even from a distance, Nazirah can see his writing looks illegible. She idly considers having a talk with Niko about recruiting some new, younger strategists. With his grizzled beard, ancient face, gnarled fingers, and haggard appearance, Aldrik appears to already have one foot in the grave.
As if reading her thoughts, Aldrik spots Nazirah with his functional eye. He shoots her a dirty look and leans into Nikolaus, speaking privately.
“Unfortunately, we must finish this tactics meeting tomorrow,” Nikolaus tells the room, glancing at Nazirah. “My sister and I have a personal matter to discuss.”
His tone is indecipherable and Nazirah remains seated. There are a few moments of unorganized mayhem as half a dozen rebels stand, scrambling to collect their papers and files from around the room. They clear their throats awkwardly, peeping at Nazirah. Everyone knows that the Nations are siblings, but rarely do people see them interact.
The rebel leaders shuffle outside as Nikolaus shakes hands with Gloom and Doom. From the bewildered looks on their faces, Nazirah guesses they don’t know why she’s here anymore than she does. Aldrik sneers as he walks past, intentionally bumping into her as he ushers the remaining stragglers out the door.
The door closes with a heavy thud. Nazirah and Nikolaus are finally alone. Nikolaus’s back is to her as he studies a wall map of the bullet train system. Nazirah slowly rises from her seat.
“You’re late.” He diverts his attention from the map, turning to face her.
Nazirah walks up to him, rubbing her arm where Aldrik knocked it. She plunges into a mock curtsy. “My apologies, Commander,” she says breathily.
“Quit it.”
“What’s Aldrik’s problem, anyway?” Nazirah asks, arm still smarting. “Old age getting the best of him?”
“You are, I’d guess,” Nikolaus says. “I don’t imagine he’s very fond of you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” Nazirah scoffs. “I don’t imagine I’m very fond of him either.”
“You’re eighteen years old, Nazirah,” Nikolaus chides. “Stop acting like a child.”
“I’m not acting like a child!” she says, crossing her arms. Nikolaus raises a bushy eyebrow and Nazirah quickly uncrosses them.
“Yes, you are,” he says emphatically. “And I don’t just mean right now. Lateness, missing meals, skipping classes, not turning in assignments … your ingratitude here is legendary.”