Chapter Nine
"I can't," moaned Alma.
"You gotta," insisted Sally, grappling for her mother's hands.
Alma lifted her tear-streaked face from her bed. "I'm not strong like you, Salome."
Tiberius' heart skipped. Sally hated being called Salome.
But his sister didn't stomp or yell. She just whimpered and said, "But Mommy, you gotta."
Alma clapped her hands over her ears as she shrieked.
"Stop it, stop it, please stop!" cried Tiberius.
"I can't not!" screamed Alma suddenly. "I'm useless without him! I'm useless! I'd be better off to you two dead!"
"Don'tsaythat!" he screeched.
Now she'd done it. She really couldn't go to work now, when she'd upset her kids so much. Alma began to cry again, quietly this time.
She wanted to hug them, but she hated herself too much to move.
Tiberius turned towards their door. He could leave, but go where? He couldn't bother the Jaegers again, nor Ilona.
He wanted to be like Ilona, to cook up crazy solutions that somehow succeeded.
Oh, she'd apologized for her actions in the arena, but he'd begged her not to, because for once something crazy and well-intentioned had worked, and Tiberius needed to believe that the crazy and well-intentioned would save him, too.
Zeke. Zeke wouldn't be burdened, and he might risk being late for Tiberius.
He wasn't sure if Mom would assume him abandoning her, or if he cared, as he ran out the door of the small apartment the Jaegers and their community had helped raise money for.
Tiberius didn't want to lose the apartment. He suspected the rebels had donated the money, and he wanted all their efforts, even helping his hopeless family, to succeed.
"Zeke!" Tiberius raced forward and grabbed his friend's arm.
"Tiberius! Why aren't you getting ready for school?" Zeke's eyes were even rounder than usual. "Is it your mom again?"
"Can you visit? Quick? I think you'll still be on time," Tiberius lied.
"No I won't," Zeke said solemnly, brushing past his friend. "You know you can tell me the truth, right, Tiberius?"
"What? Why are you helping, then?" Tiberius hurried to keep up with Zeke.
Zeke blinked. "Because you're my friend. It's okay to ask for sacrifice from your friends."
"Is that your dad talking?"
Zeke sighed. "Yeah."
"I didn't notice you tailing us last night." Kruger slid a cup of coffee into Ilona's hands. In the two months since they'd decimated the arena, the arena had been rebuilt, but apparently not Ilona's desire to hunt down Gross.
"Is that a complaint?" Ilona clutched the paper cup and breathed in the warm fumes.
"A concern."
He had such deep eyes, eyes that saw and experienced everything. Ilona glanced away as if she might drown.
Oh, Jack had followed him, she had no doubt. But she'd been too embarrassed to speak to Jack since their argument, and he hadn't seemed to make any effort of his own. "Never fear. Someone is."
"Well, I know you wouldn't leave my dear partner to his sadism."
She smiled slightly. "Were you actually concerned for me, Eren Kruger?"
"I know, it's a change from being concerned about you."
Ilona playfully socked him in the arm. "Hey!"
His coffee jostled, and she squeaked. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's fine." Kruger shook the burning drops off his hand. "I was also checking to see if you've given up midnight escapades."
"I'm not so easily tamed."
"I wouldn't dream of it. Though your parents probably do." Kruger smirked, and she responded with that roll of her eyes he'd grown very fond of. "But unless I'm mistaken, our … larger action did seem to unsettle you."
Ilona sobered. Though they'd met nearly every morning, they hadn't spoken of their plot since that night.
"It was an action I couldn't take back. I mean, I couldn't take back any of my actions before, either, so I'm not sure why this felt different."
"Maybe because this was your first directly antagonistic towards the government?" Kruger asked.
Father's face floated before her eyes. "And my family." She stopped walking and grabbed his sleeve. "I don't regret it, though, and I'd do it again."
"You have another chance for direct antagonism." He had to wonder why he was doing this. If he just wanted to spend more time around her.
"Is that what you're calling it?" Ilona teased.
"Would you prefer treason?" he murmured, though no one was within earshot.
"No. I prefer you alive." Ilona's cheeks pinkened underneath her dark complexion. She was fortunate.
Kruger honestly wished he could read her signals. Even if she did – er –admire – him, he wouldn't dare risk her. Besides, there was so much she didn't know about him – titans and bloodlines and death.
"I've a mission for you, then," he said in a low voice.
Ilona eyed him. "Go on."
"There's a shipment of weapons to arm the soldiers serving in Liberio, in case another breakout happens." Kruger sighed. "And you know it will."
"With those conditions, of course. Even in the nicest conditions, it's a cage," fumed Ilona.
Her fire warmed his heart, and perhaps his body, too. Kruger squirmed and shoved away the thought.
"But even if we were to stop this shipment, would that simply be delaying the inevitable?" asked Ilona.
"The military will acquire those weapons no matter what," Kruger acquiesced. "But so will certain Eldians."
"And will they use it and destroy each other, then?" Ilona was horrified.
"I think they're wiser than that. Their numbers and firepower will never be enough while they keep secret. My hope is that more weapons will simply raise their morale and embolden them to recruit more."
"But do you truly believe people won't use the weapons they're given? That's madness." Ilona paused. "Unless we disable them…"
"And give a secret group faulty weapons?"
"No! We could leave them for Marley … or both. Give your friends one or two, as few as possible, while demolishing as many as are left. Whatever it takes to encourage your friends and frustrate our – our blood family, I suppose."
He nodded. "I like your plan. It's balanced."
But there was a strange gleam in his eyes, as though he wished to say something but wouldn't.
"Why were you late this morning?" Captain Fischer stood before the classroom door with his arms crossed.
Zeke felt trapped, more trapped than he had felt in the arena, more suffocated than he did at home. "I was helping my friend."
"Friend? Which friend?" Fischer's jaw muscles worked, but otherwise his face remained stoic.
Zeke wanted to prostrate himself before the captain and beg him not to hate him. "His mom was sick."
"Is she?" Fischer knew better than to surmise. Kids talked when they felt no pressure.
"She's – she's sick in her mind. I hoped that by having me come to her, she might at least behave," Zeke stammered.
"You? What could you do?" Fischer tilted his head.
"Nothing!" Zeke felt hot and sweaty. Mom and Father would say he could do a lot, but Alma didn't know that anyways. "I just wanted to help her, and someone not in her family might have better effect than her own kids."
Behaving, always behaving. Fischer frowned. "You're a smart one to see how our mind affects our behaviors."
Zeke nodded.
"And you're a kind one." Fischer knelt before him. "Kindness won't help you, Zeke."
"I know." Tears pricked his eyes. He was how Alma felt she was: helpless.
"But your smarts will." Fischer ruffled Zeke's golden hair. "You're the best trainee we've got, you know that? Just apply those smarts once in a while to things like kindness."
He wasn't sure he bought the kid's excuse. Zeke often seemed to consider little else but his duty. He possessed more knowledge and less innocence than any child in the program, and those characteristics had landed Zeke Jaeger as number one on Fischer's suspicion list.
Still, patience was key, and he rather liked the kid. "I'll let you off today. Come late again, and you'll be running five gauntlets."
Zeke gulped. "I understand."
"Get home with you, Eldian scum," said Fischer with an indiscernible smirk.
The sun was setting, and Zeke knew he was going to be late home now, too. But so long as he arrived before Father closed up the shop, he'd be okay.
Zeke held his head low as he entered his home. Father's voice echoed within, sending a wave of anxiety though his body. Of all days for Father to be done early.
"Zeke, how was school?" Mom poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled at him.
"Fine." Zeke tried to sound more cheerful than he felt.
"What happened?" Grisha walked into Zeke's line of sight. "You're home late."
"The Captain kept me back after class," Zeke said dully. Lies were meaningless.
"Is this a new part of your training?" Dina wanted to scream first, then kill some Marleyans second. They kept stealing her son from her.
"No. I got in trouble."
"What did you do?" Grisha asked in alarm.
Zeke wanted to cry. Why did Father have to assume he'd done something bad? "I helped Tiberius this morning, so I was late."
Grisha scowled. Tiberius had better not interfere with his son again.
"Alma is sick in her head, Father. She was crying and seeing things that weren't there. I tried to motivate her to go to work, that's all."
Dina's gaze softened. "I see. You did good, Zeke."
"Next time, tell me. I can help you so you won't have to be late." Grisha patted Zeke's shoulder.
The subject dropped as Grisha talked of planning the next restorationalist meeting, but after Zeke had been put to bed, he couldn't help but bring it up.
"It's so disheartening to see our sister suffering like that. Seeing things that aren't there…"
"She must be in so much pain. All those memories – not even leaving her home helped, apparently." Dina flicked back a strand of hair.
"I just don't know what else to do," Grisha said bleakly.
"Yes, you do." Dina squeezed his hand.
"I don't, but then you always seem to appear and bring in a thousand inspirations." Grisha wrapped her in his arms.
"I realize it's a risk," Dina said slowly, "but if she has something to live for, perhaps, just maybe, her grief will be lessened. Or at least she'll have something motivating her through it."
"She's a liability!"
"Don't you want to help her? We've risked a child like Zeke; surely we can risk her, too." Dina scowled.
"Zeke would never be a risk," muttered Grisha. Not his son. But Alma…the misery on her face was apparent every time he saw her. She was in more pain than most people with physical injuries, and he couldn't help her physical condition anymore. "I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am," Dina teased.
A dog growled on the other side of the wrought iron gate leading to the Minsk's mansion. Kruger tapped his foot impatiently. He'd had quite enough of dogs.
"Here, Brutus." Her voice brushed sweetly through the darkness, and then the dogs were gobbling something up and she had scaled the fence.
Ilona landed beside him as lightly as she could. "I'm assuming we're headed to Alexandria District? Or is this shipment separate from the usual ones?"
"Sometimes it's easiest to hide in plain sight." Kruger kept to the edge of the shed bordering the Minsk mansion. "Keep to the shadows."
Ilona huffed. "I think I know that by now."
"I worry about you," he said automatically. "Like I worry about my Eldians group. I feel responsible."
Ilona glowered at him. "Alas for your pride, I've established this as a partnership. I don't work for you; I work with you."
"Now who's prideful?" He cocked an eyebrow.
She stuck out her tongue. An argument right now would be not only meaningless, but stupid. "Well, Mr. Responsible, if you're headed to Alexandria's docks, you'd be best taking the stairs behind Striker Avenue and through Perenna District."
"What?"
"My friends and I used to sneak around there as a child. We'd get lost in the warehouses and play, usually – " Ilona winced. "Pretending we were fighting Ymir's titans."
She felt sick as she guided him down opulent Striker Avenue. "I could say we didn't know better, but I have to wonder how children already hate their enemies."
"Parents brainwash. Some for good, some for bad. You oughtn't feel guilty," Kruger said, though the images she'd provided disturbed him.
"Well, regardless, I do." Ilona ducked in the alley between gold-plated Ritzer's Jewelry and ornately carved Overman's Barista. "Here's the stairwell."
"You'll see Perenna becomes considerably less elegant as we approach Alexandria. I won't think we'll encounter anyone up here. Closer to the sea, there's always beggars, harlots and their pimps." Ilona tugged her hat down over her pinned curls.
"I doubt anyone will recognize us." Kruger, too, pulled down his cap. He was dressed in scrappy civilian clothes, same as her. "Did you deliberately cut your shirt up?"
"Well, my other one was coated in blood. It's now ash in my fireplace. I had to do something to blend in."
"So you took scissors to your shirt."
"Obviously." Ilona's heart beat quicker. "Why would you notice?"
"What? I have to notice things." He fumbled for words.
"Mmm." Ilona had to wonder, could he …?
They finished the rest of their journey in silence, until Ilona halted at the end of the stairs. "Here. The glories of the Marley civilization."
Broad, ugly stone warehouses spread across the harbor. The moans of prostitution and sniffles of sick mingled with the lapping of waves, and the smell of smoke, chemicals, and salt was unmistakable. If Gross and Kruger dared to venture into Alexandria during their night watch, they could make plenty of arrests. But no, Gross, like most soldiers, preferred to wait for Eldian misdeeds.
Ilona looked up at him. "You'll have to guide us to the correct warehouse."
"Obviously." Kruger looked down at her, and for a moment he felt a bolt of electricity, as if the Coordinate had spread out beyond Eldia into Marley.
Their faces were awfully close, and if he could – if he were anyone besides an Eldian titan-shifter – he might have kissed her then, duties be damned.
"Let's go," he said instead.
"What are these weapons?" Ilona whispered once Kruger had picked the lock to an unguarded side door. "I mean, I recognize rifles. But these vials?"
She squinted at the pale yellow liquid in the cold glass she'd lifted from an insulated box. "Toxins?"
"Most likely. In case they need to hammer the Eldian population on short notice."
Ilona bit her tongue. How would the council and her father feel if she threw one of these vials into their meeting? How would they feel? Similar to the Eldians, no doubt, only at least their families wouldn't be present.
"These," said Kruger, "are weapons we can't give to the Restorationalists. The guns, sure, but not the vials. They'll be of no use to anyone."
"If we blow this up, we'll just poison the people here." Yes, Alexandria houses the dregs of mankind, only slightly better than Eldians in most Marleyan's mind, but they were people. She could not cause the moaning couple they'd passed in the shadows to be in their last night.
"Then what do you propose?" Kruger was more than willing to take another punch to his soul. More than willing to bear more Marleyan blood. But, perhaps, there was a difference between willingness and eagerness.
"The ocean would kill the wildlife," Ilona mused. "I wonder…this is very cold."
"So you think leaving them out of the crate might erode whatever's contained inside?"
"Well, are the boxes marked?"
Kruger bent down. "Keep chilled."
"Well, I hope we have our answer." Ilona hesitated.
"Most likely they'll still try to salvage whatever they have. We may only be delaying. It's all we can do." Kruger took out a handful of vials from their cooler and carefully walked over to a corner. "We can stack them here. Let's hope no one's clumsy enough to step on them."
"There must be an empty crate around." Ilona hurried around the stockroom.
"And what will we do when science allows temperature-stable poisons?" Kruger crossed his arms as Ilona heaved a large barrel their way. "Do you need help?"
"No," she insisted, as he expected. "It isn't heavy, just awkward."
"It is practically your size."
"Shut up." Ilona placed the barrel down besides the insulated poison crate. "We'll have to be careful now."
Kruger nodded. Her plan was insane, but how to tell her so?
"As for your question, I don't know. I hope it never happens."
"That's not enough." Kruger delicately placed the first vials in the barrel, upright and reflecting off his flashlight.
"I know. What would I do if these were room temperature? Would I let Marley have them and hope for more Marleyans like you?" Ilona eyed him closely. "Would I poison wildlife? Most likely – oh, I think so. But what right have I to say humans are better than fish?"
"Religions say so. Even ancient documents on Ymir say we are," Kruger offered.
"We? I thought Ymir was all about Eldians." Ilona furrowed her eyebrows, and Kruger's heart sank. "I don't know if I believe those. Hey, I can't believe you're lecturing me on belief!"
"I'm not lecturing."
"True," she acquiesced. "What do you believe, Eren Kruger?" Say Ymir so I know. Though whether he was a convert or an Eldian in disguise, she wasn't sure. And she didn't want to ask.
"I believe in humanity," he said simply. "I believe in kindness, and love – love so grand it transcends us mere humans. Sometimes I think there's a god. Sometimes I don't. I'm not sure which is more comforting."
"I always found the idea of god comforting," Ilona said. "But I suspect you don't because you're worried that god would despise you for what you've done?"
"I'm not sure the good outweighs the bad." He shrugged.
"I'm not sure it's a game of scales." Ilona put her hands on her hips. "But I do think you're not a bad person. I don't think I am, either. That's all I can offer you."
Not love or at least friendship? Kruger ignored his subconscious. Not now. "That's good to know."
Even if it wasn't enough. He believed in love and kindness, but had rarely given or experienced it. He felt like a ghost, unable to interact with the world he believed in.
"And if I said we shouldn't risk it and we should dump this barrel in the ocean? It's heavy enough to sink."
Ilona looked at him in agony. "Please."
"Ilona, the council isn't that many votes from using this shit. Your father's one of the last holdouts, but who's to say he won't change his mind should the titan program backfire?"
"Who's there?"
Ilona jerked, but she still placed the remaining vials in the barrel and lifted the top from the floor. She would complete the mission.
Kruger flicked off the flashlight, but another light had already landed on her.
Kruger raised a gun.
Not now – Ilona wanted to cry out.
The young guard aimed shakily at Ilona.
She ducked as two shots rang out and his head exploded – along with a small metal container three feet behind where she had been standing.
For a second, Ilona felt frozen. Battle was here, battle was now, and she was woefully unprepared –
Ilona spun around to see the smoldering can behind her, and flames leaping along the contains of guns. Behind them was a pile of liquid propellant and gasoline. "No!"
Kruger grabbed her by her shaking hands. "We need to get out of here."
"We need to get this out of here, too." Ilona jabbed her fingers down towards the barrel of toxins. "Into the sea, I don't care. It can't blow up."
Maybe some wouldn't think twice, but Ilona had always loved animals. Still, people – people mattered, too, and she was loyal to familiarity after all – human familiarity.
Kruger grabbed the barrel and began dragging it across the floor as the flames began to grow into a small, deadly starburst. "I will do this."
"I'll push." Ilona appreciated his desire to save her from guilt, but she was here, she was already guilty. "You're not doing this alone."
"Hey!" Another guard rushed in from the front, but stopped as soon as he saw the fire. "Fuck!"
Ilona coughed as the smoke thickened. Deep, thick, acrid smoke, much unlike the comforting aroma of a fireplace. This is war, this is war, echoed in her mind.