"Like what?" Alar asked. "Weak-minded? Easy to control?" His tone was mocking. "I don't think she's any of those things."
I chuckled. "She's about as weak-minded as granite. She's strong, assertive, and takes no shit from anyone."
"Evil then?" Morek offered. "Maybe they're looking for riders willing to do bad things?"
"She's not evil either," I protested. "Strict and demanding, absolutely. But not evil. She's tough on us because she wants us to survive."
Alar leaned back against the wall. "What about political leanings? Maybe this is about opposition to the current power structure. People who don't think the council should rule, or who resent Saphir having so much influence, or whatever Elucians are concerned with. I don't know enough about Elucian politics to speculate." He shifted his eyes to me and then to Morek. "You two should know more about it than Codric and I."
I shrugged. "I'm not interested in politics, so I probably know as much as you do."
"Really?" Alar looked surprised. "You don't follow politics at all?"
"Why would I? It's all the same people making the same decisions they've always made. The council argues, Saphir provides spiritual guidance, and life goes on."
Alar turned to Morek, expecting a different answer from him, but he should have known better.
"Sorry." Morek shook his head. "I don't even remember the names of the council members."
Alar's brows hitched almost all the way to his hairline. "What about newspapers? Do you at least read the headlines?"
I laughed. "Newspapers? What are we, sixty? That's what old people do—sit around reading papers and complaining about how things were better back in the day."
"Television then? Watching the news?"
Poor Alar seemed unable to accept that some people couldn't care less who was sitting on the council and wouldn't bother with listening to their boring statements.
"We follow the Shedun attacks," Morek said. "But not elections and stuff like that. We don't get to vote until we are out of the service, which is twenty-five for most and never for riders, so what's the point?"
Alar couldn't stop frowning. "That's absurd. All Elurians twenty and older get to vote."
I regarded him with what I hoped was a sardonic smile. "You decide who to vote for based on what your newspapers print about this or that prospective council member who paid them to sing their praises. You also have a king, so you are not a true democracy."
His expression darkened. "We are a federation, and the king can't do anything without the council's approval. But you are right about the newspapers printing whatever the king and council want the people to believe. Only the rags dare print dissenting views, but no one takes them seriously. Their reporters are dismissed as not true journalists but conspiracy theorists and sensationalists who would print anything to sell more copies."
"Everyone has an agenda," I said. "And you can't trust what anyone is saying, and that's in a society that values truth above all."
Codric chuckled. "One person's truth can be another person's lie. Truth is subjective."
"Some of it," I agreed. "But not all. Some truths are immutable facts."
"True enough," Alar agreed. "But we still need information about Elucian politics to be able to speculate about the motives of those dragons. Anyone who might be more knowledgeable come to mind?"
Most cadets were around our age, too young to care much about politics beyond how it affected their immediate lives. The instructors were military through and through, so they'd never discuss politics with cadets even if they had opinions.
"The old librarian, Hadrick," Morek suggested. "He seems like the type who'd know everything about any subject."
He was perfect. "He seemed bored and hungry for company," I said. "I bet I could get him to tell me whatever I want."
"When can we go?" Codric asked. "And more importantly, can we go? Captain Odinah was upset to find us there. The main library is off limits to first-years."
"I can sneak out there," I offered. "I wouldn't know what to ask, though." I turned to Alar. "You seem to know things about politics, so you need to be there as well."
"We need to get permission," Alar said. "I'll try to convince one of the instructors to give us a permission slip so we can all go."
"Assuming we're all still here tomorrow," I murmured.
"Don't say that," Alar snapped.
