Jack looked at me thoughtfully. I wasn’t sure if he was mad or not. “I’ll try to explain, if I can. By right, Vice President Kenner should have become president, but General Holt had control of the military and felt it was in the best interests of the Dome to retain a military government. And not only did he have the military behind him, but he was also in possession of both his own codes and President Taylor’s codes for the warheads. Remember I told you that two people are needed to launch the missiles? There are warheads inside the Dome. It’s part of the Dome’s defense system.
“The codes get passed to each president when he’s sworn in and only the Holts have held that office since the beginning of the Dome. There are a lot of people living here who would like to see a return to our democratic government, but the Holts still control the military and the warheads. Every Holt who has come to power has threatened to blow up the entire Dome if there’s an uprising—and each Holt has been crazy enough to do it. They would rather see the end of civilization than relinquish their power. So we try to have a quiet revolution. We plan and plot and hope that one day we’ll find the codes and usurp their control. I’ve searched the computer memory banks, but I can’t find them,” he said.
“I don’t understand why General Holt wasn’t exposed back then. I mean if he had the president’s codes, then the only way he could’ve gotten them was from Taylor herself. But if he found her already murdered…” I shook my head. If I could see the flaws in Edward Holt’s story, couldn’t the people back then see them too? “Maybe he doesn’t have the codes. Maybe the Holts have been lying all along in order to stay in control.”
“That’s a really astute observation, Mrs. Kenner,” he said, giving me an appreciative look.
It annoyed me that he was surprised I had a brain, but he went right on talking, oblivious to my irritation.
“We have medical evidence that President Taylor’s husband was badly tortured before he was killed; however, there are two different stories to explain this indisputable fact. Holt’s explanation, which is in the official report, claims that the civilians tortured President Taylor’s husband in front of her. This was supposed to be an attempt to manipulate her into giving the order for all officials to leave the Dome to the civilians. But VP Kenner wrote in his journal that he believes Holt tortured President Taylor’s husband in order to get the codes out of her. Officially, Holt claims the president whispered them to him before she drew her last breath.” He pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them. His anger seemed to have been replaced with melancholy.
“It doesn’t change anything, though, does it?” I asked. “I mean, knowing the horrible history of how everything came to be doesn’t change it. People in the Pit will continue to live as slaves, you and I will be executed as traitors, and the bourge will continue to win.”
“That’s not true. The Kenners know, and we’ve shared the information with as many people as we can trust. We do have supporters. We’re trying to change things the only way we think we can without harming the entire Dome. Try to understand that our family was cast way down after Edward Holt became president. He didn’t want any reminders of the old regime. We clawed our way back up, getting back into the good graces of the other influential families. My marriage to Leisel was the moment my family has been waiting for. Once I became president, we would have the codes. The Holts would lose their power.”
“If the Holts dislike the Kenners so much, how did you become engaged to Leisel in the first place?”
“Because there is no one else. When Edward Holt claimed the presidency, he made it law that the title can’t be passed to a woman. And they’ve been lucky because every generation has produced at least one son, except this generation. Usually the Holts choose their spouses from the West, Powell, or Forbes families, but right now there’s a generation gap. The only boys in those families are under the age of twelve. It’s the first time in the history of the Dome that this has happened. My mother noticed last year that Leisel was showing interest in me and told me to pursue her. When I asked the president if I could marry his daughter, I promised she would keep her last name and all our children would carry the name Holt as well. He liked that. It also helped that Leisel said I was what she wanted, and the president always gives his daughter what she wants.”
“So you were prepared to spend the rest of your life with someone you didn’t love in order to restore democracy?”
Jack nodded. “I just wanted to be honest with you. After all that’s happened, you were owed an explanation. I am truly sorry you got caught up in all of this.” He reached for my hand and held it in both of his. Slowly he brought it up to his lips and tenderly kissed it, then placed my hand back on my lap. “Time’s up,” he said.
And he went back out into the living room.
Chapter Ten
I kept my hand in my lap exactly where Jack had put it down. A tingling sensation lingered where he had pressed his lips against my skin. I stared at my hand, but it didn’t look any different. I never expected kindness from a bourge, especially one so aristocratic. If he thought I had anything to do with Leisel’s betrayal, why didn’t he just beat me? Or kill me? No one would care. But instead of hurting me, he confided in me. In fact, his openness about his feelings toward President Holt and Leisel shocked me. Treasonous words were never heard in the Dome.
I didn’t know what to think of Jack Kenner or his story. If his family really was intent on restoring democracy to the Dome, they had had almost three hundred years to do it. Yet there we all were, still at the mercy of the Holts. I wondered if life would be any different if Liberty succeeded. For all Jack’s talk about wanting to get rid of the Holts, never once did he actually say life in the Pit would get any better.
He seemed kind enough, but he was definitely conscious that I came from the Pit. I felt it when he questioned if he could trust me to be alone in his apartment; I heard it when he congratulated me on pointing out some of the obvious flaws in his story. He thought of me as an inferior. I wanted to tell him that we are educated in the Pit. Maybe not in elaborate schools like the bourge attended, but our common rooms in the Pit served as classrooms during the day when the adults were working. Although in the Pit, the most valuable lesson was to learn to think on your feet. Every urchin needed a quick mind to get him or herself out of situations that might otherwise result in a beating or death.
Maybe that was the problem with the Kenners and Liberty. They were over-educated in the classroom and no longer had the ability to think for themselves. After all, they’d had almost three hundred years to confront the Holts with their evidence, and they were still in the planning stage. Perhaps they weren’t as desperate for change as we were in the Pit.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything in more than a day. My last meal had been the breakfast Jack had given me before he left for his interview with Leisel. I looked under the bed, relieved to find the tray of food right where I had hidden it. There was an egg, one and a half pieces of bread, and almost a whole piece of ham left. I was about to take a bite of the bread when I remembered Jack. He had been kind to me, so maybe I should share it. I returned to the living room, the dress dragging behind me, rustling.
“Decided to join me?” he asked without looking up from his computer.
“What are you doing?”
“Writing my farewell letters.” He put the computer down and raised his eyebrows at the sight of the tray. “You’ve been hoarding food?”