Chapter 6
"But if you're gonna dine with them cannibals
Sooner or later, darling, you're gonna get eaten . . ."
― Nick Cave
Vasilisa -
I have made many mistakes in my life, but now - sitting perched on the edge of a plush seat in Executor Ozera's train as it hurtles across the country, I'm starting to think this might be my most spectacularly stupid one yet.
Natasha's offer to join her campaign as a tour ambassador had not been optional. I had known there would be no turning back once I'd suggested it to her, but the feeling of being immediately escorted through the crowd by the black-clad officers had still overwhelmed me - as if I were being marched to the gallows.
I'd allowed myself one glance over my shoulder at Eddie, who had done his best to creep closer to me without drawing too much attention to himself. I had tried to convey how sorry I was with that one last look, but his expression had still flickered somewhere between horror and betrayal. Had he heard my conversation with the Executor, did he know that I had meant for all of this to happen? These desperate thoughts and questions swirl within me like maelstrom.
Now, I watch the trees and sky on the other side of the train window rush past me in a blur of green and blue, wondering whether Eddie has gone back to Christian and the others, or if he stuck to his original plan of infiltrating the campaign staff. Is it possible he made it onto the train with me?
His plan, though well-intentioned, had too many holes. There had been no guarantee that we would make it onto the tour, that we wouldn't be found out. I'm closer to the Executor now than I could have ever dreamed, though my proximity to her has left me in a near-constant state of panic.
"Rhea?" an unfamiliar female voice calls. It takes me a few moments to realize that she's talking to me.
"Hmm?" I say, hoping to seem as if I'd been lost in my thoughts and not that I'd forgotten my own name.
A woman with auburn hair sits across a smooth metal table from me, looking mildly impatient. "I thought it would be a good idea for each of us to introduce ourselves."
My eyes dart to the other people seated around me in the train car. Natasha had liked my idea so much that it seems she had decided to extend the invitation to three additional civilians from the seaside compound: the auburn-haired woman, a girl with strawberry-blonde hair, and a boy who looks so much like her that he must be her brother.
"Good idea," I say, sitting up a little straighter.
The woman smiles, but the expression doesn't seem to reach her eyes. Had she been forced to join the tour, or had she volunteered for it?
"I'm Jane," she continues. "I'm originally from the midwestern province, and…" her voice trails off, seeming to debate how much she wants to share with the strangers sitting around her. "And I'm very excited to be here," she finishes, sounding anything but.
Luckily the other girl jumps right in, saving me from having to go next. "I'm Angeline," she says, and there's a soft drawl to the way she speaks. "And this is my brother Josh." she elbows the boy next to her in the ribs and he grunts in acknowledgement. "We're from the southeastern province but we ended up in the northeast on account of the Executor movin' everyone around. I didn't like it at first but now that we're here...I guess I am kind of excited to see the rest of NAAMA - and to help the Executor with her tour!" she adds for good measure.
Three sets of expectant eyes turn their gaze on me. "I'm Rhea," I say, offering up what I hope is a charming smile. "I'm also from the midwestern province - I ended up in the northeast after my uncle died."
I'm not sure why I mention Victor.
Though Rose had taught me that when forced to lie, it's always best to include as much truth as possible to save yourself the trouble of having to remember some elaborate made up backstory, I could have mentioned anything else. The memory of his body, wrapped in a white sheet at the bottom of a frozen grave comes unbidden to my mind and I have to fight the urge to start counting.
"Josh and me are on our own as well," says Angeline conciliatorily. "Well, not any more I guess - we have the Executor to take care of us now."
It's a miracle that my eyes don't roll to the back of my head, instead I focus them on Angeline. She seems young, younger than me by far and I can't help but wonder why the Executor would have chosen her as a tour ambassador. Though a more cynical part of me thinks Natasha probably wants the civilians representing her tour to the masses to seem as genuine and innocent as possible. Angeline's lilting voice and sweet round face make her the ideal mouthpiece for the Executor's lies.
Josh, who has yet to speak, seems just as good natured - though a bit more reserved than his younger sister. He peers at me with bright blue eyes and for a moment they remind me so much of Christian's piercing gaze that I feel as if I'll burst into tears on the spot.
I know he's probably worried sick about me right now - but I have to hope that he'll move forward with the plan as if nothing has changed.
"I'm sorry to hear that," says Jane, and her tone is stilted.
Something about her feels...off. If she had been recruited along with the rest of us, how had she known my name?
"But you're right, Executor Ozera will ensure that all of your needs are met," she continues. "I know she very much appreciates you all agreeing to join her on this tour."
"Well said, Jane, thank you," a cool voice says from the entrance of the train car.
We all whip our heads around to see Natasha striding toward us. I hadn't even heard the metal door slide open and the silence with which she's able to move unnerves me.
Angeline and Josh leap to their feet, sputtering greetings and I worry for a moment that they might drop to their knees before her. Jane and I rise more slowly, both of us sporting matching weary smiles though each has a different reason to.
"Please, sit," says Natasha, gesturing to the seats we had just been occupying. "I trust that you're all enjoying the journey?" she asks, taking a seat next to Jane.
Angeline nods enthusiastically. "Oh yes, we've never been on a train this nice before."
That's an understatement.
Executor Ozera's train is a modern marvel - sleek and fast, the walls lined with ornate wooden paneling, the floors with opulent white tiles. Flat screen monitors are set into the walls, showing the time, temperature, and speed of the train - occasionally turning to a map so we can follow our progress in real time. The furniture is all sleek chrome and soft dark velvet. I'm amazed that Angeline can still manage to be excited about riding on something so nice when she knows how little the people of NAAMA have. The opulence of my surroundings makes me want to scream.
Natasha fixes her cool stare on Angeline. "While I can understand your excitement at being surrounded by so many new things, it's important to keep in mind that the technology aboard this train is here out of necessity - not for our comfort or entertainment. It is a necessary evil."
I wonder if Natasha also considers the tiny crystal sconces lining the walls of the train car to be necessary evils.
Angeline, sounding stricken, says. "Y-yes - of course. I only meant to answer your question about whether we were enjoying the trip so far."
Natasha smiles. "No need to get upset - it's not your fault. I've found that your generation has a harder time grappling with the evils of modernization and development - you were too young to remember what happened when it betrayed us, how our reliance upon it nearly destroyed us."
My fists are clenched so tightly beneath the table that I can feel them shake in my lap. I want to scream - to tell her that I know the truth, that she is the one who nearly destroyed us. Christian's words from our time at Portum Lux comes rushing back to me - The people saw her as their salvation, she was a hero, the one to pull NAAMA from the ashes of the Pulse, and they never knew that she had been the one to set the fire.
But they will soon. Her own nephew is going to make sure of that.
"Now," continues Natasha. "I wanted to take a few moments to discuss expectations. We wouldn't want to...disappoint anyone." She pauses, taking a moment to stare at each of us in turn, her scarred skin pulled tight by her forced smile. "It has come to my attention that many in NAAMA are...unhappy with the current state of affairs and are choosing to act out because of it." It's a miracle that I'm able to keep from snorting with disbelief at her words.
Natasha has always had a gift for painting over the ugly cracks of reality - her Anniversary speech is proof of that. She never tells her people the whole truth - and the withholding of information is just another form of oppression.
"I had hoped to use this tour as an opportunity to reassure the people, but it seems that they are still having a hard time believing the truth - that we are all working toward a better future, and that future requires us to make sacrifices."
Angeline squirms uncomfortably in her seat, seeming to finally realize that she hadn't been brought here just to smile and spread the good word about our noble Executor.
"Luckily, Rhea here had a solution for me," she gestures toward me and I do my best not to shrink beneath the attention. "The people do not know me and it is, after all, very hard to trust someone whom you do not know."
I force myself to smile at her empty praise.
"So, we're all going to work together - myself and my new tour ambassadors - to revise my speeches and campaign materials so that I'm able to better connect with the people. You all will help to provide a fresh new perspective to the tour content, and will mingle with the people before and after the events to ensure that my messages really sink in."
Natasha rises from her seat, prompting the rest of us to do the same. "I'll let my assistant, Jane, get the ball rolling."
Jane bristles almost imperceptibly at being called an assistant. It's now clear she's not a civilian recruited to be a tour ambassador, and for some reason I don't think Jane's role within the NAAMA government is accurately captured by her title.
Just then, a soldier enters the train car, his arms laden with piles of navy-blue fabric. I can't tell what color his belt is and make a mental note to try and figure out what the new black belts I'd seen at the harbor compound mean.
"Just in time," Natasha says, holding her arms out to the soldier. He hands her what I realize is a jumpsuit. She holds it up for everyone to see. "I've had new civilian tour ambassador jumpsuits made."
Great, I think to myself. I get to help create a little homespun propaganda and wear a jazzy new outfit while I do it.
Angeline lets out a small squeal, "What an honor," she exclaims, reaching out a hand to brush the sleeve of the jumpsuit.
"I'm glad you like them," says Natasha, handing the jumpsuit back to the soldier. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She strides out of the train car, leaving the soldier to hand out the jumpsuits to the rest of us.
The material feels flimsier than Rose's black jumpsuit had, though I know better than to mention this out loud.
"It's late," says Jane, though the clock on the nearest screen only reads 7:04pm. "I'll give you a tour of the civilian quarters and we can start fresh tomorrow morning."
She begins walking toward the opposite end of the car that Natasha had gone and Josh, Angeline, and I fall into place behind her. We move single file through the gangway and into the next car, which looks identical to one before it, except that it's filled with NAAMA military officers - all of whom are wearing black belts.
The officers chat idly with one another, some playing cards, while others content themselves with staring out the window at the purpling sky. They don't bother to look at the group of civilians moving among them and I do my best to keep my eyes trained on the floor, not wanting to draw attention to myself in case any of them have seen my wanted poster. I make another mental note to get my hands on more coffee. My disguise, flimsy as it is, is the only thing keeping me safe.
We enter the next car - this one obviously meant for serving meals. It's lined with small booths and tables on one side, a long counter and small kitchenette on the other.
"Is this where we'll eat?" I blurt out just before we enter the next vestibule.
Jane comes to halt and Josh nearly runs right into her.
She eyes me suspciously, though I can't tell if she actually suspects anything or if that's just her face. "No," she says, as if the answer were obvious. "Civilian quarters and facilities are at the end of the train. This is where the officers eat."
"We won't eat with the rest of the people on the tour?" Josh asks, speaking for the first time.
Jane turns her stormy gaze on Josh. "Do you want to take your meals with members of the NAAMA military?"
To Josh's credit, he doesn't flinch and instead puffs out his chest a bit. "Maybe I do," he says, trying his best to sound confident but his words are still laced with small tendrils of fear.
Despite how the officers had terrorized the civilians in my compound, there were still some children who had grown up idolizing them - hoping to be recruited and trained - seeing the NAAMA military as a way out of their miserable situations. It seems as though Josh had grown up hero-worshipping the same people who would sooner pistol whip him than see him as an equal.
Jane laughs, though the sound isn't as cruel as I would have expected. "Do yourself a favor, kid, stay out of their way. They might have looked friendly - sitting around and playing cards - but they weren't given black belts for their manners."
"What do the black belts mean?" I ask, unable to keep the question to myself.
"They mean stay away," says Jane unhelpfully.
"That can't be it," insists Angeline, and I'm silently grateful to the girl for pressing the issue. "Blue is for brains, silver is for soldiers, green is for grunts, red is for -"
"Enough!" snaps Jane. "The black belts are not your concern."
We all fall silent, voicing no further protest as Jane turns to continue leading us on our tour.
"Black must stand for buttheads," I hear Angeline grumble under her breath, and I decide in that moment that despite her creepy worship of the Executor, I like her.
"This will be your room, Angeline" says Jane, finally stopping in front of a narrow sliding metal door.
We'd made our way to the end of the train in silence, passing through car after car filled with military personnel and various campaign staffers. I long to scan the faces of the people around me, long to spot Rose or Dimitri among them, but I can't risk drawing attention to myself by staring at everyone I come across - not until I can make sure no one will recognize me.
The civilian car is less stylish than the rest of the train, but still clean and comfortable. Small cabins line the length of the car, each with a small porthole at its center. It reminds me of the Ascella's cramped quarters and I find myself wishing I were back on the creaking ship, back with Christian and Adrian and Sydney.
Angeline gasps with delight. "You mean I get my own room?" she asks hopefully.
Jane nods. "Josh, yours will be the one next to it, and Rhea - yours is the one at the end of the corridor."
Angeline and Josh both bid us good night, then disappear into their respective rooms.
"Where will you be sleeping?" I ask Jane before she can turn away.
She stares at me with a forced blankness. "With the rest of the staff."
"Oh," I say, scrambling for something more. "And what is it that you do again?"
Jane's eyes narrow to slits. "I'm an assistant. I assist."
"That sounds - like meaningful work," I tell her dumbly.
"Good night, Rhea," says Jane briskly. She's apparently had enough of my idiotic questions.
"Wait! Before you go - what if I need something? Food or coffee or something like that - where should I go?" The words rush out of me in a single breath.
"You saw the cafe car on your way here - get it yourself."
"Really? I can just - move about the train?"
"This isn't a prison, Rhea. Eat when you're hungry, sleep when you're tired, just do your job and don't make trouble. Though you saw the NAAMA officers at the front of the train, just keep your head down and enjoy the ride." Jane sounds suddenly exhausted. "Is there anything else?"
I shake my head. "No - thank you."
Jane turns to go but before she does, she calls over her shoulder to say. "Almost forgot - the train is equipped with surveillance equipment. For your safety of course," she adds, almost as an afterthought.
My eyes immediately dart to the corners of the train car, searching for any sign of a camera or a microphone - but nothing is there. At least, nothing that I can see.
"What - where?" I ask in a slightly panicked voice - but Jane is already gone.