“I’m glad you asked that question,” President Highton says, almost like the reporter was supposed to ask it. “Our scientists have worked tirelessly to repair the damage done to our soil during The Salting. Unfortunately, the damage is too extensive, and it would take too long. However, we’ve found another way to produce food.”
President Highton turns his attention back to the screen. It shows some sort of underground facility. There are plants growing, artificial light, and an irrigation system to water them. Abundant, beautiful fruits and vegetables adorn every vine and bush.
“Using specially treated soil, new developments in hydroponics, and a controlled environment, we’ve finally reached a point where we can feed everyone in this great nation. Not just feed them but ensure they have the kind of abundance the orcs enjoy while our children starve,” President Highton says. “This means we will no longer be reliant on Uzrirgard to feed our families.”
“That explains all the fucking food they sent to us,” King Lix’tuk’s voice is practically quivering with rage. “They’re showing us they don’t need us anymore. But why? What will all this hatred accomplish?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
The screen continues to show the facility where the crops are grown. It zooms through multiple levels filled with the kind of color I’ve only seen while flying over Uzrirgard. Then the screen shows livestock. Chickens, cows, goats, pigs, and some I don’t even recognize. Some are grazing in underground fields. Others are in barns. Some are being led to a slaughterhouse.
“Never again will we answer to the orcs. Never again will they take our people as slaves. No more sons. No more daughters,” President Highton says, the reporters applauding him. He smiles and nods, then leans back to the microphone. “No more Clovers.”
A cacophony of questions erupts, and I feel sick to my stomach. Not only did they show my face, but the president used my name, like I’m some sort of symbol. No more Clovers? My freedom was never an option. I wasn’t going to be returned to my family if Lady Frax’mo didn’t purchase me. I would have become the property of some wealthy human man. I don’t think they would treat me as well as King Lix’tuk.
For a second, I forget King Lix’tuk is beside me. I forget Zrogmul, the theater, the chair beneath me. All I hear is my name in strangers’ mouths.
“I’m sorry,” I say, glancing over at him.
“It’s not your fault,” his deep voice is soothing. He says it so quickly that I believe him, even while everything inside me feels scraped raw. “Clearly, they’ve been planning this for a while, and they’ve been doing it in secret. We’ve always kept a close eye on the humans, especially as Concord City expands. I get reports every month. None of them have ever mentioned a facility that can produce food like that.”
“But what does this accomplish? Are they really going to stop auctioning people?” I ask.
“They can’t. Even if they can produce food, they need the money the auction brings in to keep Concord City thriving,” he says. “They have too many expenses to put a stop to it. Plus, the wealthy people who keep the government from collapsing would never allow it. Slavery is what lines their pockets.”
“There has to be some sort of agenda.”
The reporters ask more questions, but none of them sound like questions. They sound like doors President Highton already knows how to walk through. Ways for him to reinforce his talking points. I guess after reading so many books filled with propaganda, I’m becoming naturally distrustful, especially since everything we heard was lies. The ones about me make my hands curl into fists.
After President Highton is done answering questions, the reporters start chanting what he said like it’s some kind of mantra.No more sons. No more daughters. No more Clovers.
“I have to go to my office,” King Lix’tuk hisses, standing up. “Don’t wait up for me. I may not make it to bed tonight.”
“Do you want some company?” I ask humbly.
“No,” he says, grabbing the remaining bottle of grog before stomping to the door of the theater.
He pauses like he wants to say something. He looks back at me, but all he does is take a deep breath.
Then he’s gone. I’m left alone in the theater, everything President Highton said still tumbling around in my head. My name doesn’t sound like my name anymore. It sounds like something printed on a sign. Something shouted by people who don’t know me and never cared what happened to me.
It makes me angrier than I’ve ever been in my life.
CHAPTER 25
Clover
It’s been a week since President Highton’s speech, but I still haven’t gotten used to the bed beside me being cold every morning when I wake up.
Zrogmul has gone from a haunted, lonely fortress to bustling with activity. Lords and Ladies arrive and depart regularly. A war council has been formed. The East Wing has been opened and some of the orcs even stay the night.
King Lix’tuk doesn’t sleep. He just passes out in his chair or on his throne, resting his eyes until he’s got the energy to move again. I try not to disturb him, no matter how lonely I get, but I miss him. I didn’t realize how attached I’d gotten to him until I started waking up beside the shape he left behind instead of his body.
I also don’t like being left in the dark. I heard President Highton’s speech. He’s turned me into a symbol of his twisted agenda. That’s why I’m walking down the hallway toward King Lix’tuk’s throne room. I don’t know if he’ll be happy to see meor too exhausted to care that I’m there, but this is one of the few times he’s alone. I saw the ships leave earlier, but I’m not sure why.
His throne room is empty when I walk through the doors. That means he must be in his office. The door is broken, so when I get closer, I can see him. I guess he doesn’t care enough to repair it, since he’s the only one here most of the time. His chair is leaned back. His eyes are closed. There’s a video playing in front of him that looks like a live feed from Concord City.
I gently open the door and step inside his office. He doesn’t stir, so I watch the feed for a few moments. It looks like there are protests in Concord City. People are in the streets. All chanting the same mantra from President Highton’s speech.No more sons. No more daughters. No more Clovers.Some of the people even have signs with the slogan painted on them.
