Intermix Nation

Adamek finishes signing the contract andslides it to her, the blood on his hand already coagulating. Hepulls the chain over his head and tucks it under his jumpsuit.

Amnesty agreement sealed. Nazirah can leaveand return to headquarters. But she ca

He killed them in cold blood. Bargained forhis freedom in warm blood. And Nazirah wants to spill his life’sblood.

She wants to spill every last stickydrop.

Adamek tenses. He must know exactly what sheis thinking. Knows the visions that plague her thoughts every dayand haunt her dreams every night. He caused them, after all.

Nazirah takes a deep breath, reaching forthe contract so she can leave. When he speaks again, his words drippoison and purpose.

“You look like her.”

What the fuck did he just say?

Nazirah’s head snaps up. Blinded by rage,she lunges across the table, positive that Solomon is hopping offhis chair and screaming like a banshee down the corridor. Adamekmakes no move to stop her.

Nazirah’s fingers are barely an inch awayfrom his throat before she pauses. She holds them there,outstretched. They itch to close to gap, are dying to make thespark fade from his eyes. But he said that deliberately to get arise out of her. And she refuses to be a pawn in his twistedgame.

Nazirah pulls her hand away, slamming thetable with her fist, imagining it’s his face. She grabs thecontract, shoves it into her pocket. She walks quickly towards thedoor then stops and turns around to face him. Adamek inclines hishead, listening closely.

“Enjoy your freedom, Morgen,” she spits. “Ihope you choke on it.”

#

“What a fucking piece of shit.”

Cato is livid. He is sitting at his desk,face red, fuming. The unfinished essay he was writing liesforgotten beside him. Cato cracks his knuckles menacingly, a habitthat Nazirah hates. Nazirah lies on his bed, staring at theceiling. She only returned to headquarters an hour ago. Her headpounds from stress and lack of sleep. Cato’s angry outbursts everycouple of seconds aren’t helping matters.

Nazirah sighs in a

“We’ve established that my brother sucks,”Nazirah says, exasperated. “Can we move on?”

Unlike Nazirah, Cato took some of thecomforts of home with him. Several pictures of his former life inRafu are displayed throughout his room. Nazirah glances at a photoof Cato smiling with his two siblings, before picking another oneup from his nightstand. It is one of Nazirah’s favorites, takenwhen she was fifteen. Cato, who came from a long line of fishermen,saved up his money that summer to buy an old canoe on the blackmarket. He spent weeks rebuilding it, sanding it down and caulkingit. Nazirah teased him about it for weeks, telling him it wouldnever float. One day, without warning, he picked her up, droppedher into the canoe, and paddled out to sea.

They spent the rest of the day fishing. Or,really, Nazirah watched Cato fish. She alternated between lying inthe sun and jumping off the boat to swim in the water. Catoentertained her all day, telling Nazirah unbelievable stories helearned in school. Hundreds of years ago, he said, everythingaround them had been landlocked. Then the polar icecaps melted,swallowing and shrinking the coastline of the Old Country.

Looking out at the sea that day, Nazirahcouldn’t believe it was ever anything else than what it was now. Itwas a time in her life when she didn’t fully grasp the concept ofchange. A time in her life when she thought everything would alwaysremain the same, constant and steady.

Now she isn’t so sure.

Cato reeled in a huge fish that day, almostthirty pounds. He let Nazirah hold it in the photo, pretend she wasthe one who caught it. The sea waves in the background, as the twoof them smile widely for the camera. Nazirah’s long hair is braidedand wet from the water. Her skin is glowing, bronzed from thesummer sun. She struggles to grip the slippery, floundering fishwith her thin arms. Cato is giving the camera a thumbs-up. He looksgoofy, but that is exactly what makes Nazirah love the photo.

Despite his protests, Nazirah convinced Catoto release the fish back into the wild. She vividly rememberswatching it swim away, breathing life back through its gills,regaining its speed. She felt like that fish, once. Like death wasonly a shadow of a whisper in her mind. Like there was nothingbefore her but life and the sea and endless freedom.

“I can’t believe Nikolaus would associatewith that scum!” Cato continues ranting. Nazirah sets the photoback down with a sigh. Cato stares at her expectantly. He is notletting her off the hook as easily as he did the fish.

She yawns. “Why don’t you go ask him,then?”

“I don’t get you, Irri.” Cato walks over tothe bed. “How are you not more upset about this? Don’t you want toknow why Adamek Morgen suddenly gained a conscience and wants tohelp us, renouncing his entire race and family in the process? Andwhy your brother embraced him with open arms? Doesn’t it all seem alittle strange to you?”

“Of course it does, Cato!” Nazirah snaps, ather wit’s end. “You think I actually believe for a second that thepurebred dirtbag has changed? I don’t! But like I told you already,I have no idea what he and Niko agreed upon. Niko wouldn’t tell me.He wouldn’t even tell me anything when I gave him the signedcontract. I haven’t slept or eaten in over a day, I’ve been to thedamned Red West and back, and I’m tired!”

Cato is quiet, finally. Nazirah can tell hefeels bad about badgering her. She is too a

With his bright hazel eyes and medium build,Cato looks more like Nazirah than Nikolaus does. People oftenassume they are related, especially non-Eridians, much to Cato’sa

“So what was he like?” Cato looks atNazirah. Her eyes remain fixated on the ceiling. It is the questionof the hour, of the year, of the century. It is the question shecan’t answer, doesn’t know how to answer.

“He was … quiet.”

“Quiet?” repeats Cato, intrigued.

“No,” she backtracks. “Not quiet.”

“So … loud?”

“No.”

“Talkative?”

“No!” she says. “Observant.”

There; that’s better. Adamek Morgen wasdefinitely observant.

“Observant?”

“Yes, and weirdly passive.”

“Weirdly passive?” asks Cato, perplexed.“Are you sure you actually met Adamek Morgen?”

“The whole thing was just so strange,”Nazirah continues, talking more to herself than to Cato. “He didn’tsay much, but I felt like everything he said was deliberate … likehe was testing me.”

“Testing you?” asks Cato, eyes narrowing.“What exactly did he say?”

“Nothing important.”

She doesn’t know why she keeps the truthfrom Cato – that Adamek intentionally provoked her by mentioningRiva. She feels like a coward, ashamed for pulling her hand away.Cato knows her well enough to realize that she’s hiding something,but doesn’t press the issue.