Chapter 24 #2
Hearing President Highton talk about me like that makes me tear up, especially when my parents and sisters are mentioned. But beneath the tears, a rage begins to simmer. Anger. I’ve never felt anything like it before.
“How dare he,” I seethe. “I was never going to be reunited with my family. If Lady Frax’mo hadn’t bought me, one of those men would have.”
“Did Lady Frax’mo really barge into the auction like that and demand the humans turn you over to her?” King Lix’tuk growls.
“No!” I say quickly. “Not at all. She placed a bid that was a lot higher than the rest of them. Nobody tried to outbid her. It was… a transaction.”
“And if our dear sweet Clover wasn’t enough, after I contacted King Lix’tuk to discuss the matter further, I found out that Clover wasn’t the only young woman he wanted,” President Highton sighs, rubbing his temples.
“He was angry that I even suggested we find a different way to pay our reparations. So angry that he demanded we send him another hundred women as an apology. He threatened to starve us if we didn’t. ”
“Fucking liar!” King Lix’tuk roars, slamming his hand on the table so hard I have to grab my drink.
“Unfortunately, as much as it pained me, I had no choice but to meet his demands,” President Highton sighs, looking down at the podium, doing his best to look horrified.
After a few seconds, he raises his head and there’s more determination in his eyes.
“But that will be the last time Uzrirgard takes our sons and daughters. The last time we succumb to the whims of savages who hate us for something our ancestors did. We’ve paid for those mistakes long enough. ”
“What about food!?” a reporter calls out. “We’ll die if we don’t have food from Uzrirgard.”
“I’m glad you asked that question,” President Highton says, almost like the reporter was supposed to ask it.
“Our scientists have worked tirelessly to repair the damage done to our soil during The Salting. Unfortunately, the damage is too extensive, and it would take too long. However, we’ve found another way to produce food. ”
President Highton turns his attention back to the screen. It shows some sort of underground facility. There are plants growing, artificial light, and an irrigation system to water them. Abundant, beautiful fruits and vegetables adorn every vine and bush.
“Using specially treated soil, new developments in hydroponics, and a controlled environment, we’ve finally reached a point where we can feed everyone in this great nation.
Not just feed them but ensure they have the kind of abundance the orcs enjoy while our children starve,” President Highton says.
“This means we will no longer be reliant on Uzrirgard to feed our families.”
“That explains all the fucking food they sent to us,” King Lix’tuk’s voice is practically quivering with rage. “They’re showing us they don’t need us anymore. But why? What will all this hatred accomplish?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
The screen continues to show the facility where the crops are grown.
It zooms through multiple levels filled with the kind of color I’ve only seen while flying over Uzrirgard.
Then the screen shows livestock. Chickens, cows, goats, pigs, and some I don’t even recognize.
Some are grazing in underground fields. Others are in barns. Some are being led to a slaughterhouse.
“Never again will we answer to the orcs. Never again will they take our people as slaves. No more sons. No more daughters,” President Highton says, the reporters applauding him. He smiles and nods, then leans back to the microphone. “No more Clovers.”
A cacophony of questions erupts, and I feel sick to my stomach.
Not only did they show my face, but the president used my name, like I’m some sort of symbol.
No more Clovers? My freedom was never an option.
I wasn’t going to be returned to my family if Lady Frax’mo didn’t purchase me.
I would have become the property of some wealthy human man.
I don’t think they would treat me as well as King Lix’tuk.
For a second, I forget King Lix’tuk is beside me. I forget Zrogmul, the theater, the chair beneath me. All I hear is my name in strangers’ mouths.
“I’m sorry,” I say, glancing over at him.
“It’s not your fault,” his deep voice is soothing.
He says it so quickly that I believe him, even while everything inside me feels scraped raw.
“Clearly, they’ve been planning this for a while, and they’ve been doing it in secret.
We’ve always kept a close eye on the humans, especially as Concord City expands.
I get reports every month. None of them have ever mentioned a facility that can produce food like that. ”
“But what does this accomplish? Are they really going to stop auctioning people?” I ask.
“They can’t. Even if they can produce food, they need the money the auction brings in to keep Concord City thriving,” he says.
“They have too many expenses to put a stop to it. Plus, the wealthy people who keep the government from collapsing would never allow it. Slavery is what lines their pockets.”
“There has to be some sort of agenda.”
The reporters ask more questions, but none of them sound like questions.
They sound like doors President Highton already knows how to walk through.
Ways for him to reinforce his talking points.
I guess after reading so many books filled with propaganda, I’m becoming naturally distrustful, especially since everything we heard was lies.
The ones about me make my hands curl into fists.
After President Highton is done answering questions, the reporters start chanting what he said like it’s some kind of mantra. No more sons. No more daughters. No more Clovers.
“I have to go to my office,” King Lix’tuk hisses, standing up. “Don’t wait up for me. I may not make it to bed tonight.”
“Do you want some company?” I ask humbly.
“No,” he says, grabbing the remaining bottle of grog before stomping to the door of the theater.
He pauses like he wants to say something. He looks back at me, but all he does is take a deep breath.
Then he’s gone. I’m left alone in the theater, everything President Highton said still tumbling around in my head. My name doesn’t sound like my name anymore. It sounds like something printed on a sign. Something shouted by people who don’t know me and never cared what happened to me.
It makes me angrier than I’ve ever been in my life.