“They want to be,” King Lix’tuk says. “If you don’t want anyone in the room, I can make them stay outside until it’s over.”
“I don’t want them staring at me the entire time. That will make me nervous,” I admit. “But I’d like it if you were here with me.”
“Then I’ll be the only one in the room,” he reassures me. “Go to the podium. I’ll speak with the war council.”
King Lix’tuk leaves the room. I clutch my notes in my hand and walk to the podium. As soon as I get there, I realize I can’t see over it. It’s an orc-sized podium. I move a chair over, but that just makes me look comically tall and tower over the podium. I’m still trying to solve the problem when King Lix’tuk returns.
“Right, you need a stool,” he chuckles, immediately leaving the room.
He returns a few minutes later with a stool that is the perfect height. Once I’m standing on it, with my notes in front of me, cameras pointed at my face, everything starts to feelreal. I panic a little, struggle to breathe, and my fingers start feeling numb. I take a sip of water to try and calm myself.
“Don’t worry about being nervous. You’ve never done this before, so it will look unusual if you’re not nervous,” King Lix’tuk advises sagely. “You’re not a politician. You’re not a king or president. You’re just a human girl from Troona who was taken advantage of by the people you were supposed to be able to trust.”
“And we’re sure there will be no complications with that part of my speech?” I ask.
“We have cloaked ships sitting over Troona right now,” he growls. “That was a wonderful idea, and I’ll make sure it happens.”
The idea struck me around midday. I was afraid it would be too late, but King Lix’tuk got it organized fairly quickly. I want people to believe what I have to say, and I think I’ve found a way to ensure it. But I have a lot of important stuff to say before I get to that part of my speech.
“It’s almost time,” King Lix’tuk says, taking a seat in front of the desk, out of the sight of the cameras. “As long as the lights are green, you’re live. The humans will try to block the broadcast once it begins. We’ll hold them off as long as we can.”
“I’ll try to get through it quickly,” I affirm, looking down at my notes.
“If you don’t, we’ll still make sure it’s available,” he growls. “Anyone in Concord City who wants to hear the full speech will have no problem finding it.”
“It’s not just them who need to hear it,” I sigh. “I need all the people in the small towns and settlements to hear it too.”
“They will,” he says. “Once something like this is out there, it spreads fast, for better or worse, as we’ve seen.”
I hope King Lix’tuk is right. I want everyone to hear my speech. From Concord City to Troona and every other town across the sandy landscape. Their future is at stake. If I can’t get through to them, the orcs may become the bloodthirsty savages President Highton accused them of being.
King Lix’tuk gets a notification, then he holds up his hand, counting down the seconds. As soon as the last finger falls, the light in front of me blinks green.
“You’re live,” he mouths.
I take a deep breath, force a smile, and look down at my notes.
“Hello. Most of you may already know who I am, but for those who don’t, my name is Clover,” I say, my stomach a nervous wreck. “I’m originally from Troona, but I currently live in Uzrirgard. President Highton felt compelled to tell my story, but most of what he said wasn’t true, so I’d like to set the record straight.”
I glance at King Lix’tuk and he gives me a nod, like he approves of what I’ve said so far. That makes me feel a little better. At least I didn’t fumble the introduction. But there’s a lot more for me to say, and I want to get as much out as I can before we lose the broadcast.
“I’m second-born, which means my future was decided for me the moment I was born, long before I was old enough to understand what that meant. President Highton wants you to believe the orcs are the ones stealing our futures. They aren’t.
I and my family, lived in a tiny shack without any clean water, with barely enough food to keep us alive, wearing rags and working the cactus fields. Meanwhile, Concord City has so much water they use it for fountains, decoration! There’s so much food there, they throw away enough in one day to feed all our poor towns for a month. Most of you will never get to drink that water or eat that food.
Our futures belong to men like President Highton. Men who stand on stages and pretend second-borns are sacrifices for peace. The truth is it’s wealthyhumanssitting in the audience, bidding on us like livestock,” I continue, my voice getting firmer. “The orcs rarely buy humans anymore. They no longer require reparations to survive. That debt was paid long before I ever stood on an auction stage. In the last two years, out of all the second-borns who stood on that stage like I did, only two of us were purchased by orcs. Two. If that math doesn’t sound rightto you, it shouldn’t. Because the rest of your sons and daughters weren’t purchased by wolf shifters or demons, either. Not for many decades. They were purchased by wealthy people who live in Concord City to be kept as slaves.”
I glance at the statistics on my paper. I’m trusting them as much as King Lix’tuk is trusting me, so I hope they’re accurate. I take a deep breath and confirm the light is still green before I continue.
“One of the biggest buyers is Angelina Markston. She’s a senator and owns most of the factories in Concord City. Those factories are filled with people who are her property. No rights. No wages. They work eighteen-hour days, seven days a week,” I say, my fingers tightening around the edge of the podium. “I used to think factories were places people got jobs. I didn’t know they were where second-borns disappeared.”
I look at my notes again, taking a moment to compose myself.
“Gary Denton owns over three hundred women. Three hundred. And I don’t think I need to tell you why, considering he runs the only legal brothels in Concord City,” I say. “And I could go on. I could name every senator whoownspeople like me. Politicians who took an oath to serve our best interests and failed usintentionally. But I don’t think that’s necessary. If you open your eyes, I think you can see it all for yourself.”
I pause again, letting it sink in. King Lix’tuk told me to move through my points quickly, but let them breathe, so that’s what I’m trying to do. I’m a nervous wreck. There’s sweat running down my back. But the light is still green, so I still have my audience.
“President Highton isn’t just complicit in this. He profits from it. When I stood on the stage, he auctioned me personally. Hestood in front of you and turned me into a symbol when it washewho made me tell the men bidding on me if I was a virgin,” I say, my jaw tightening with anger that seems to quell some of the nervousness. “Angelina didn’t want me. She said I was tooprettyto work in a factory, because she knew the men would bid more. Shesaidthat. The video your President showed you was dubbed and edited. It is patently untrue.”