Page 205 of Everything Under the Sun

Suddenly, the crowd died down again, this time on Maxima’s command. He looked at me with expectation, one brow raised higher than the other.

“You demanded the fight stop,” he reminded me. “So now is your opportunity to stop it.”

I blinked, with both surprise and confusion. I had run onto the arena floor with a purpose and a plan. But it had been a fragmented plan based only on assumption then; a plan I put together in mere seconds, and I never expected it to pan out.

But I had been onto something before, and now I was beginning to see it.

I raised my chin boldly, trying to at least look confident, for I was scared, so scared for Atticus.

“I…” I paused and then tried again. “I say it is in your best interest not to let this man die.”

“Why not?” Maxima asked, waiting.

“Because…I”—nervously I licked the dryness from my lips—“Because I need him, and you need me.”

Ravinia’s lips pursed with sudden interest; she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that so?” she asked. “And why do you think we need you?”

I took a deep breath, licked my lips again; my eyes strayed, looking around at all of the people: the fighters with Atticus’ blood on their hands, Kade and his glowering face, the onlookers hungry for bloodshed, and the longer I stood there, realizing that I, using only words, had shut the gymnasium down, I drew courage from that unbelievable fact.

I raised my chin higher, no longer faking the confidence. “I may not be strong physically,” I began, “but I know many things; I possess many skills that could benefit the rebuilding of your New World, and can not only help the strong survive, but I can make them stronger.”

Kade, standing behind Ravinia and Maxima, clenched his jaw; his fists tightened at his sides; his nose and the corners of his eyes hardened, and cavernous lines appeared.

Ravinia stepped closer and I did not back down; I raised the knife out in front of me in a threatening manner.

“Are you telling us,” Ravinia began, “that you possess indispensable—priceless—skills that would benefit others?”

“Yes.”

“And what are they?” Maxima asked.

“Don’t say another word,” Kade finally spoke, and then he stepped around Maxima to stand closer to me. “I’m the one who brought you here, and I’m the one—”

“Like anybody else,” Maxima cut him off, “the girl has the right to make her own demands, to prove herself strong. And like everyone else, her demands can be judged.” He turned to look out at the crowd. “The Majority always decides!” he shouted, and the crowd cheered, and the floor shook. “Not one man or one woman! Not a single tyrant leader! Not a deranged, self-proclaimed Holy Man who is as far away from God as the Devil! But the majority of the strong, the free-thinkers, the freedom fighters!”

“PLEAD YOUR CASE! PLEAD YOUR CASE!” the crowd chanted.

Kade’s eyes bored into mine; if we were alone, I thought he might strangle me with those angry clenched fists of steel.

“Plead your case,” Ravinia said as the crowd died down.

“What makes you worthy of demands, and to live among the strong?” Maxima asked. “What makes you strong?”

“PLEAD YOUR CASE! PLEAD YOUR CASE!”

Ravinia and Maxima silenced the crowd together this time; their right hands raised high above them.

I could hardly breathe, but I appeared calm. My confidence was overshadowed by my doubts, but I stood with bold elegance. I raised my chin regally, clasped my delicate hands behind my back, knife still wedged within my fingers, and I prepared to plead my case.

“I am a farmer, a hunter, and a fisherwoman,” I began, my voice rising so that many could hear. “I not only know how to obtain food, but I can prepare and preserve it. I can build houses and boats; I can differentiate poisonous plants from edible ones, and with them, I can make medication. And drugs”—(this I had never done, but it didn’t matter)—“I know history like the back of my hand and can teach anything from the rise and fall of the Roman Empire to the rise and fall of the American Autocracy.”

Whispers went around the gymnasium; heads nodded at one another in approval. Others needed to hear more.

I paced in front of Atticus, from his feet to his head, back and forth, before coming to a stop. I’d wanted to see if he was still breathing; thankfully, he was, but I had no time to figure out if he was conscious.

“In addition to English,” I went on, “I speak fluent Spanish—I was taught by a dear friend who was murdered by people like you. My French is rough, but I can speak it. I am a poet, and a performer, and I can entertain you in more…civilized ways.” I paused, looked out over the heads at the people in the bleachers. “And although I prefer not to be the kind of woman whose worth is judged only by how well she can cook and clean and bear children, I am an excellent cook.”

“What about cleaning and bearing children!” someone shouted from the crowd.

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