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“Don’t be afraid,” I whisper to myself, my eyes squeezed shut. “You can’t afford it.”
Then I step out from the shadows, hurry along the ledge until I turn the corner of the building, and hop into the closest balcony I can find. I face the central square. The protective balcony glass cuts off about a foot over my head, but I can still feel the wind siphoning in from above. I take off my cap and toss it over the top edge. It floats down to the ground, carried sideways by the wind. My hair streams out all around me. I bend down, twist one of the speakers’ wires, and hold the speaker up like a megaphone. Then I wait.
At first no one notices me. But soon one face turns up in my direction, probably attracted by the brightness of my hair, and then another face, and then another. A small group. It grows into several dozen, all of them pointing up at me. The roars and angry chants below begin to subside. I wonder if June sees me. The soldiers lining other roofs have their guns fixed on me—but they don’t shoot. They’re stuck with me in this awkward, tense limbo. I want to run. To do what I always do, have always done, for the last five years of my life. Escape, flee into the shadows.
But this time, I stand my ground. I’m tired of running.
The crowd grows quieter as more and more turn their faces up to see me. At first, I hear incredulous chatter. Even some laughs. That can’t be Day, I imagine them muttering to one another. Some imposter. But the longer I stay here, the louder they get. Everyone has turned toward me now. My eyes wander over to where Anden is on his balcony; even he’s looking at me now. I hold my breath, hoping that he doesn’t decide to order me shot. Is he on my side?
Then they’re all chanting my name. Day! Day! Day! I can hardly believe my ears. They’re chanting for me, and their voices echo down every block and reach every street. I stay frozen where I am, still clinging to my makeshift megaphone, unable to tear my eyes away from the crowds. I lift the speaker to my lips.
“People of the Republic!” I shout. “Do you hear me?”
My words blare out from every speaker in the square—probably every speaker in the country, for all I know. It startles me. The people below let out a cheer that makes the ground tremble. The soldiers must’ve gotten a hurried order from someone in Congress, because I see some of them hoist their weapons higher. A single bullet zips through the air and hits the glass, sparking as it goes. I don’t move.
The Elector makes a quick gesture at the guards standing with him, and they all press a hand to their ears and talk into their mikes. Maybe he’s telling them not to harm me. I force myself to believe it.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I shout in the direction that the lone bullet had come from. Keep yourself steady. The people’s cheers turn into a roar. “You don’t want an uprising, do you, Congress?”
Day! Day! Day!
“Today, Congress, I give you an ultimatum.” My eyes shift to the JumboTrons. “You’ve arrested a number of Patriots for a crime you are responsible for. Release them. All of them. If you don’t, I will call your people to action, and you will have a revolution on your hands. But probably not the kind you were hoping for.” The civilians scream out their approval. The chants continue at a feverish pitch.
“People of the Republic.” They cheer me on as I continue. “Listen to me. Today, I give all of you an ultimatum.”
Their chants go on until they realize that I’ve fallen silent, and then they too begin to quiet down. I hold the speaker closer. “My name is Day.” My voice fills the air. “I’ve fought the same injustices that you’re here to protest right now. I’ve suffered the same things you’ve suffered. Like you, I’ve watched my friends and family die at the hands of Republic soldiers.” I blink away the memories that threaten to overtake me. Keep going. “I’ve been starved, beaten, and humiliated. I’ve been tortured, insulted, and suppressed. I’ve lived in the slums with you. I’ve risked my life for you. And you’ve risked your lives for me. We have risked our lives for our country—not the country we live in now, but the country we hope to have. You are all, every single one of you, a hero.”
Joyful cheers answer me, even as guards below try in vain to bring down and arrest stragglers, while other soldiers are trying fruitlessly to disable the rewired speaker system. Congress is afraid, I realize. They’re afraid of me, like they’ve always been. So I keep going—I tell the people what had happened to my mother and brothers, and what had happened to June. I tell them about the Patriots, and about the Senate’s attempt to assassinate Anden. I hope Razor’s listening to all this and seething. Throughout it all, the crowd’s attention never wavers.
“Do you trust me?” I shout. The crowd answers with a unified voice. The sea of people and their deafening roars are overwhelming. If my mother was still here, if Dad and John were here, would they be smiling up at me right now? I take a deep, shuddering breath. Finish what you came here to do. I focus on the people, and on the young Elector. I gather my strength. Then I say the words I never ever thought I’d say.
“People of the Republic, know your enemy. Your enemy is the Republic’s way of life, the laws and traditions that hold us down, the government that brought us here. The late Elector. Congress.” I raise my arm and point toward Anden. “But the new Elector is . . . Not. Your. Enemy!” The people grow silent. Their eyes are forever fixed on me. “You think your Congress wants to end the Trials, or help your families? It’s a lie.” I point at Anden when I say this, willing myself, for the first time, to trust him. “The Elector is young and ambitious, and he is not his father. He wants to fight for you, just as I fight for you, but first he needs you to give him that chance. And if you put your might behind him and lift him up, he will lift us up. He will change things for us, one step at a time. He can build that country we all hope we can have. I came here tonight for you all—and for him. Do you trust me?” I lift my voice: “People of the Republic, do you trust me?”
