How predictable. Warrick couldn’t even bring himself to deal directly with my kidnappers. Some father he is. At least Sullivan cares, which means they might have a chance of seeing their prisoner again.
“You’re back!” Knox says.
His shoulders drop with relief.
“I thought they killed you.”
My shackles are back on, and Idris attached them to the long chain, just like before.
“I’m their leverage,” I say. “They’re negotiating with Warrick.”
“Where did they take you?”
“They got someone to check my head,” I say. “I passed out after. They gave me some food, and here I am.”
He frowns. “Are you okay?”
“I will be when Warrick gives them what they want, and we get out of this place,” I say.
Knox leans his head against the wall. His forehead is caked with blood, and his jacket is covered in dirt. I’m a little guilty thatI’ve been having a blast with the Resistance members while he was left here to suffer alone.
“I’m losing my mind,” he groans.
“Should we play a game?”
“What kind?”
“Hmm,” I say thoughtfully. “The kind where I ask questions, and you answer.”
Knox’s mouth twitches. “So, an interrogation?”
“No,” I say with a smile. “A game.”
Knox stretches his legs.
“Shoot,” he says.
I sit upright, pleased that he wants to satisfy my curiosity.
“What’s the deal with Ender?” I ask. “Who put that stick up his ass and why did they leave it there?”
Knox chuckles. “You’re trying to get me killed.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Ender isn’t just another high-ranking officer; he’s been meticulously groomed by his father to take his place as the next Supreme Director. He was drilled in strategy, manipulation, and politics. Every lesson is designed to prepare him for absolute authority,” Knox says. “To secure the top seat and lead the Continent, he has to be ruthless, calculating, and unflinchingly cold.”
“Never saw him as a politician,” I say.
I rarely watch his father’s speeches on the screens. Not since he reversed the law that protects the children of rebels. His smile is always a tad too wide, his words coldly polished, his promises overly exaggerated.
I try to picture Ender at a podium, smiling at the avid reports, but the thought is impossible to conjure. He is too sulky, too self-absorbed, too frigid to win people over with his faux charm.
“That is why he is going to wed your sister,” Knox says. “Everyone loves a family man.”
“How romantic,” I say dryly.
“My turn,” Knox says. “I have a few questions of my own.”
