Year 18

-Chapter 37-

The crowds have started to thin when the Leader asks Kane and I to come to his office. The others attempt to follow, but he asks Agents to take them back to their rooms. To their cells.

As we walk into the warm room, a lively fireplace heating the otherwise chilled air, we Leader motions for us to take a seat. Neither of us moves.

"Son," the Leader drawls, looking toward Kane, "I—"

"Don't call me that," Kane's words are sharp, laced with a warning.

There's no apology on the part of the Leader, only a tight, amused smile.

"Let me tell you what I've learned, Mr. Porter." The Leader sighs, leaning back in his seat, stoking the fire near his desk. "There is nothing I can ever do that will hurt our people more than you have."

Kane's hands clench into fists at his sides.

"They don't have to like me," the Leader laughs, though there are notes of anger behind the sound. "They don't even have to trust me. All that matters is that they lose their faith in you."

We all know it's true.

"There's no greater hurt than that brought on by the betrayal of someone you trust. I lost the people's trust ages ago. Your father...he was largely responsible for that. Still, I've watched as you in your youth and vehement rebellion have screamed big promises and fallen through time and time again. Regardless, you've held their trust." The Leader pauses, leaning back in his chair. "How much longer before they've entirely lost hope in you? How many people will die before they see that you're even worse than I am? You promised them something you can't attain. You rode their blind devotion, and what is there to show for it?"

His words, while grounded in some semblance of the truth, lack the context, nuances, and his own fallacies that have kept him in power. It's hypocritical, and demoralizing. There was a time when I wouldn't have worried what such words might do to Kane, his resolve strong enough to withstand obviously hostile projections. Now however, I worry he may internalize them; that the words may nestle too far down to be extracted.

"Is there anything you care for?" Kane asks, his voice quiet, almost pleading.

"Pardon me?"

"Is there nothing on this planet that you fight for, every day of your life?" Kane's voice is louder this time.

The Leader doesn't attempt to hide that there isn't an answer to be given.

"Don't pretend to understand me," Kane says. "And please, don't pretend to understand the will of your citizens."

We spend weeks in and out of the same monotony.

Life within the Cells is different this time, but the upgrade in amenities is easy to ignore when the underlying truth is unwavering. Our freedom isn't ours.

Since the Social Gathering, there have been an increase in riots, though not just from members of the Year Movement.

Agents—appearing as Kane and I—going out into the sectors, stirring up trouble that has caused nothing but harm for the people there.

"What are we going to do?" I asked Kane for the first and last time, only a week ago.

"I made a promise," he said. It was a vague response, but still it told me that despite the lull we have fallen into, the larger picture is still moving. Regardless, I've spent the past week wondering what exactly his promise is.

My brother sits in the corner away from the rest of us. He's better than he had been, but there have been a few occasions where he's had to be taken away. It feels silly for the Agents or the Leader to care what harm he may cause to himself or the rest of us. Still, the other night when he'd started to dig into the skin at the base of his neck—Andrew and Kane having run to stop him—the Agents stepped in. Now, he's sitting with his knees pulled up under his chin, his fingers bandaged.

"He seems better today," Kane says, pulling my attention away from Paul, away from the News segment playing the latest horrors over in the corner.

"I don't know how long we're supposed to do this," I feel my throat tighten. I trust Kane and any plan he has, but this inaction feels like torture in itself. Every day we're forced to see the consequences of the Government's actions. It's possible we wouldn't have made a difference outside of these Cells. I know that. But the inability to confirm that is haunting.

Kane reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. He brings it to his lips, pressing my knuckles against them.

"I know," he lowers our hands onto the table. "I know."

It feels like more than a statement of comfort.

It feels like an implication.

A/N ~ Hi everyone! The countdown truly begins today for ending Year 18. I am planning to have everything posted by the 27th, which will be the 9 year anniversary of when I started Year 6 back in 2014. Expect a lot of updates in the coming days! With today being the 17th, that leaves 10 days.

As I mentioned in the past few chapters, I'm definitely looking for reader feedback on what you want to see from me in the future. If you haven't yet, please respond to the Google Form I linked in the past couple chapters. I appreciate it!!

-Sarah