Champion (Legend 3)

“Thomas?” I whisper.

“Thomas is dead,” he murmurs. “When Pascao and I were fleeing to the Armor, I saw him stand and face the Colonies soldiers alone. He kept firing at them until they shot him in the head.” He flinches at this final sentence.

Thomas is dead.

I blink twice, suddenly numb from head to toe. I shouldn’t be shocked. Why am I shocked? I was prepared for this. The soldier who had stabbed my brother through the heart, who had shot Day’s mother . . . he’s gone. And of course he would have died in this way—defending the Republic until the end, unwavering in his insane loyalty to a state that had already turned her back on him. I also understand right away why this has affected Day so much. Shot through the head. I feel empty at the news. Exhausted. Numb. My shoulders sag.

“It’s for the best,” I finally whisper through the lump in my throat. Images flash through my head of Metias, and of what Thomas had told me about his last night alive. I force my thoughts back to Tess. To the living, and those who still matter. “Tess is going to be okay,” I say. My words sound unconvincing. “We just have to find a way.”

The lab techs inside the glass room stick a long needle into Tess’s right arm, then her left. She lets out a choked sob. Day tears his eyes away from the scene, adjusts his grip on his crutches, and begins to make his way toward us. As he passes me, he whispers, “Tonight.” Then he leaves the rest of us behind and heads down the hall.

I watch him go in silence. Anden sighs, looks sadly toward Tess, and joins the other lab techs. “Are you sure Day is clean?” he says to the one who’d shared the virus information with us. She confirms it, and Anden nods at her in approval. “I want a second check run on all of our soldiers immediately.” He turns to one of the other Senators. “Then I want a message sent right away to the Colonies’ Chancellor, as well as their DesCon CEO. Let’s see whether diplomacy can get us anywhere.”

Finally, Anden gives me a long look. “I know I have no right to ask this of you,” he says. “But if you can find it in your heart to ask Day again about his brother, I would be grateful. We might still have a chance with Antarctica.”

1930 HOURS.

RUBY SECTOR.

73° F.

The high-rise I’m staying in is just a few blocks away from where Metias and I used to live. As the jeep I’m riding in approaches it, I look down the street and try to catch a glimpse of my old apartment complex. Even Ruby sector is now blocked off with segments of tape indicating which areas are for evacuees, and soldiers line the streets. I wonder where Anden’s staying in the midst of all this mess; probably somewhere in Batalla sector. He’ll definitely be up late tonight. Before I’d left for my assigned apartment, he had taken me aside in the lab hall. His eyes flickered unconsciously to my lips and then back up again. I knew he was dwelling on the brief moment we shared in Ross City, as well as the words that had come after it. I know you care deeply for Day.

“June,” he said after an awkward pause. “We’re meeting with the Senate tomorrow morning to discuss what our next steps should be. I want to give you the heads-up that this will be a conference where each of the Princeps-Elects will deliver some words to the group. It’s a chance to experience what each of you would do if you were the official Princeps—but be warned, things may get heated.” He smiled a little. “This war has left us all on edge, to put it lightly.”

I’d wanted to tell him that I would sit this one out. Another meeting with the Senators—another four-hour-long session of listening to forty talking heads all battling to outdo one another, all attempting to either sway Anden to their side or embarrass him in front of the others. No doubt Mariana and Serge will lead the arguments to see which of them can come across as the better Princeps candidate. The mere idea of it drains me of all my remaining strength. But at the same time, the thought of leaving Anden to shoulder the burden alone in a room full of people who were so cold and distant was too hard to bear. So I smiled and bowed to him, like a good Princeps-Elect. “I’ll be there,” I replied.

Now the jeep pulls up to my assigned complex and stops, and I push the memory out of my mind. I get out of the jeep with Ollie, then watch it go until it turns a corner and disappears completely from sight. I head inside the high-rise.

I initially plan to stop by Day’s room right after settling into my own, to see what he meant by his “tonight” comment. But as I reach my hall, I see that I don’t have to.

Day is camped outside my door, sitting slouched against the wall and absently smoking a blue cigarette. His crutches are lying idly beside him. Even though he’s not moving, some small piece of his manner—wild, careless, defiant—still shines through, and for an instant I flash back to when I’d first met him on the streets, with his bright blue eyes and quicksilver movements and unruly blond hair. That nostalgic image is so sweet that I suddenly feel my eyes watering. I take a deep breath and will myself not to cry.

He pulls himself to his feet when he sees me at the end of the hall. “June,” he says as I approach. Ollie trots over to greet him, and he pats my dog once on the head. He still looks exhausted, but manages to give me a lopsided, if sad, grin. Without his crutches, he sways on his feet. His eyes are heavy with anguish, and I know it’s because of our earlier stint in the lab. “From the look on your face, I’m guessing the Antarcticans weren’t much help.”

I shake my head, then unlock my door and invite him inside. “Not really,” I reply as I close the door behind me. My eyes instinctively study the room, memorizing its layout. It resembles my old home a little too closely for comfort. “They’ve contacted the United Nations about the plague. They’re going to seal off all of our ports to traffic. No imports or exports—no aid, no supplies. We’re all under quarantine now. They’ve told us that they can help us out only after we show them proof of a cure, or if Anden hands over a chunk of Republic land to them as payment. Until then, they won’t send any troops. All I know now is that they’re monitoring our situation pretty closely.”