The Pacifist

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by Elin Peer


  The irony of the men’s failed attempt was that their attempt to overrun Khan only made him more popular as it served as a reminder to the nation of how unpredictable and fragile life used to be in the Northlands.

  Before the Aurelius family came to power and secured peace for the last forty-two years, there had been a slew of self-appointed men ruling the Northlands until they were killed by the next ambitious man in line. No one wanted to return to those days, and it only made Khan’s popularity soar to new heights.

  On the first day of the tournament, the third episode of the Men of the North series aired in the evening. By now, the whole country was hooked on the show. Mila and I were no exception. It was her birthday but she declined a party. All she wanted to do was to watch the show with the rest of us.

  The media kept the hype going by giving away more details from the original story behind the series. That part only had Magni groaning when headlines surfaced from the time Laura had left him. The articles brought back painful memories and came with unflattering pictures of him in drunken bar fights.

  Men of the North Tours popped up, promising to take visitors to the sights where the series had been filmed, and when the tournament finally began, a huge booth sold out on Men of the North merchandise in only two days.

  Instead of the normal two to three days that a bridal tournament lasted, the festivities were now spread out over a whole week. With thousands of participants, there were constant fights in the three large arenas that each held up to ten fighting rings. For the Nmen it was a giant feast of violence. For the rest of us there were street musicians, a comedy tent, a marketplace selling craft works, and of course plenty of beer tents and food stands for the hungry.

  The number of visitors surpassed all predictions, in large part because of the dating area, which attracted Nmen from all over the country who were hoping that one of the Motlander women from the Couples Matching Program would pick them. It was a short cut through a selection process that could normally take years since each Motlander was only presented with ten suitors at a time. The meetings in the dating area didn’t rely on algorithms or compatibility in terms of answers on a questionnaire. Instead it was up to the people to chat and figure out if there was a connection.

  This was the first time Nmen and Motlander women were meeting without knowing anything about each other.

  Mila and I spent a lot of our time in the political corner of the festival. With the election only a week away, all the remaining presidential candidates had been given room to meet voters and stump for their ideas. By now the number was down to thirty-four Nmen fighting for the presidency. The rest of the candidates who had signed up when the election was first announced had lost interest when they realized the amount of work involved in running a campaign.

  Our meet and greet tent was located in the corner with a large banner outside that had the faces of all us celebrities who had volunteered to take shifts in the tent. A headline said:

  Ask us why you should vote for our friend

  Khan Aurelius.

  A long line formed hours before we opened on the first day. Seeing a business opportunity, Freya made sure the people waiting in line could buy refreshments and merchandise from the Men of the North series.

  “How are sales?” I asked her Tuesday when I found her on the side of the tent, bent over boxes in the spring sun.

  “Great. We had new supplies printed overnight. I’m just sorting through the boxes. For some reason the sizes got mixed up.”

  “But surely someone else can do that.”

  Freya’s eyebrows drew close together. “Don’t give me the ‘you’re too young to be part of this’ speech. I’m not.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Do you know how annoying it is to be eleven years old and have everyone look at you like you’re a kid.”

  I suppressed a smile. “Technically, you are a child, Freya.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I had to convince my parents to let me be part of this project and still I’m constantly watched by two guards.”

  I’d already noticed the two Manor guards watching us.

  “Your father is just looking out for you.”

  “I know.” She pulled up two large shirts and held them up for me to see. “We sold almost ten thousand of these two.”

  I read the text on the first t-shirt aloud:

  Fucking proud to be a

  Free Man of the North

  The second had a large beer on the front with a text saying:

  I make beer disappear

  What is your super power?

  She handed me another one. “This one sells well too.” It said,

  Beer

  Technically a vegan meal

  “That’s great, Freya, and what’s the update on the community homes?”

  “We’ve had to make some adjustments.” She nodded toward the tent. “Despite the positive reaction when my dad announced it, I’ve noticed that almost none of the men that walk through the tent take time to study the information on the screens. My theory is that it’s because they don’t want to step out of the line and lose their place.” She sighed. “And of course, once they’ve met you celebrities they’re dazed and can’t think of anything else.”

  “Maybe we can move the screens closer to the entrance instead of the exit,” I suggested.

  “That would be nice. Also, my mom and I had these flyers made last night.” Freya handed me one. “So far, it looks like the men are not just reading them, but keeping them.”

  I studied the flyer and read to myself:

  Job Opportunity for Animal Lovers

  A number of community homes are currently being designed and built to provide a better life for rescue animals in the Northlands.

  We are looking for animal lovers of all ages who will take on the role as their protectors.

  Each protector will have a private bed and bathroom.

  If you have a handicap and need special arrangements, that can be accommodated.

  Payment

  Chosen applicants will be paid with board and lodging. Your responsibilities are to take care of the animals and work with the other protectors and caregivers to create a warm community for all residents to thrive in. If you already have a (non-aggressive) pet, you may bring it.

  “This is good, Freya.”

  Her intelligent green eyes lit up. “Do you like the part about calling them protectors? My mom used the word caregivers, but I know Nmen and they all want to be protectors. It gives them a purpose in life.”

  “No, it’s good. I’m sure you’ll see many applications, but what about the poor people who don’t like animals?”

  Freya wrinkled her nose up. “I’ve never met an Nman who doesn’t like at least dogs.”

  “But some people are allergic.”

  “Hmm, why don’t we start with this project first? My parents told me that with the ticket sales and the treasures from the storage room we’re good to go. Next, we’ll be looking for suitable buildings that can be transformed. By this time next year, we might have the first ten community houses up and running. The first one could be opening in as little as three months.” She pointed to the flyer in my hands. “They are being passed out at all food banks as well.”

  “Brilliant.” I leaned in to hug her but that made Freya step back and hold up her palm. “You can’t touch me. You’re a man.”

  “But I’m a Motlander.”

  “You’re still a man.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, and part of me was pleased that she saw me as an equal to the Nmen.

  “Don’t take it personally. I don’t mind hugging you, but my guards take their orders to protect me very seriously and I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She was just about to walk away when she frowned. “I almost forgot to tell you that we managed to get an express order in for the stickers that you ran out of last night. They were delivered to the main entrance and Leo went to pick them up.”

  “Excellent
. To be honest, I’m amazed at how willing they all are to let us put those stickers on them.”

  “People always behave weird around celebrities. I’ve seen enough grown men come out of that tent looking goofy just because they got to meet Anne, Salma, you, or one of the others. It’s bizarre if you ask me. You’re just normal people.”

  I grinned. “You’re right, we are. But don’t forget that you’re a celebrity too. The media talk about you. I heard they’ve been saying flattering things.”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “Who cares what they say? They don’t know me.”

  “True, but saying that you have your mom’s kind heart, and your dad’s intelligence to find strategic solutions isn’t the worst that can happen.”

  She sighed. “I guess I’m just pissed on my mom’s behalf. She’s intelligent too.”

  I smiled and held up both my hands. “I’m Pearl’s biggest fan so I won’t argue. Still, I find it interesting that you object to the media thinking you have your intelligence from your father, but you don’t object to them thinking that you have your warm heart from your mother. Does that mean you don’t think Khan has a kind heart?”

  Freya bit her lip. “I guess he does, but in a different way. I saw him cry when Magni was hurt so I know he cares, but my mom doesn’t hide her sympathy or pain like my dad does. She’s not afraid that the people might see her tear up or think her weak. It’s so strange with adults.”

  “What is?”

  Freya tilted her head. “The way they like to categorize things. My dad explained what it means to be a man to Mason and Thor the other day and he used words like strong, respected, stoic, and protective, but I’m those things too.”

  “That’s right.” I smiled because it wasn’t hard to envision what a magnificent woman Freya would one day grow up to be. “Can I ask you a question?”

  She shrugged and her beautiful green eyes met mine with that intelligent curiosity that made her stand out.

  “Are you having a bridal tournament when you’re older?”

  Lowering her brow, Freya scanned all the large Nmen waiting in line in front of the tent. “I doubt it. My mom would be crying for weeks if I did. She says I need to find a partner who can make me laugh more.”

  “A comedian?”

  Freya gave another shrug. “I’m too serious for my own good, but it’s just that most people bore me, especially children my own age. It’s not that I don’t have a sense of humor. I know a lot of Nman jokes.”

  “Really? Well let’s hear one then.”

  “Okay.” Freya delivered the joke with confidence. “A man went to a barber shop for a shave. The barber asked him to put a wooden ball in his mouth so he could get a closer shave around his cheeks. ‘But what if I swallow the ball?’ the man asked and the barber replied rather casually, ‘No problem, you just bring it back tomorrow like everyone else.’”

  My laugh made Freya smile. “That’s a good one.”

  “Now you tell me a joke.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m terrible with jokes.”

  “Come on Jonah, everyone knows at least one joke.”

  “All right!” I rubbed my forehead but only one from my childhood came up. “A patient complains to the doctor, ‘I think I’m starting to forget things.’ The doctor asks, ‘Since when have you had this condition?’ The patient answers, ‘What condition?’”

  She tilted her head to the left. “It’s not a bad joke, but your delivery sucks.”

  “More stickers.” Leo came walking toward us with a large box in his hands.

  “Excellent, you just saved me from embarrassing myself in front of Freya with more bad jokes.” I took the box from him and walked inside the tent where the line of people was moving slowly and men were greeting Anne, Mila, and Shelly, the three celebrities on duty with me.

  “I’m so hungry,” Anne whispered to me when I joined her in the line. “When are the others coming to replace us?”

  “Any minute now,” I whispered back.

  Just a few minutes later we looked to the tent opening. By now we’d learned to recognize the rise in volume from the voices of the people outside. Sure enough, Tristan and Salma Rose walked in with their guards keeping people away. She was a world superstar and a professional at meeting fans. After greeting us in her warm fashion, she went to work immediately, replacing Anne, who still looked a bit star-struck whenever Salma was around.

  I knew from Mila that Salma suffered from anxiety and that she preferred for Tristan to stay close to her. It was fun to see how he did most of the small talk, selling Khan while Salma smiled and placed a sticker on the shoulder of the people who came to meet her. “Don’t forget to vote for our friend Khan,” it said above the exit of the tent.

  Hunter and his wife Emanuela strolled into the tent more than ten minutes past their shift’s beginning. “Tristan, Mila… look who we found outside.” Hunter grinned and pulled an Nman his own size in with him.

  “Nero, my friend.” Tristan stepped out of the line to greet the man with that arm-grasp, shoulder-slapping thing that Nmen preferred. “I haven’t seen you since the reunion. What have you been up to?”

  “Mostly, I’m keeping out of trouble.” Nero’s eyes were full of life and although tall and fit, he wasn’t an intimidating giant like Solo, Magni, and some of the guards. With his boyish grin Nero seemed friendly and approachable.

  “Who is he?” Anne leaned against me and spoke into my ear.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he went to school with them.”

  Mila gave him a bright smile. “Nero, it’s good to see you.”

  “Same. How is your little dog doing? They said on the News that he survived the operation after that stupid attack.”

  “Loki is recovering fine, thank you for asking.”

  Tristan still had a hand on Nero’s shoulder but turned to his wife. “Salma my rose, this is my old friend, Nero. He was at the school and used to drive Raven mad and come up with the best pranks.”

  Salma held out both hands to Nero and gave him a warm smile. “May peace surround you.”

  “Thank you and same to you.” His eyes lowered to the small bump on her stomach before he gave a questioning look to Tristan.

  “You didn’t know? It’s all the News is talking about these days.” Tristan grinned at me. “When they aren’t busy discussing Jonah Cervici, of course. Is or isn’t Salma Rose expecting?” Tristan’s easy laughter filled the tent and he spread out his hands. “I’m happy to tell you that she is. I’m going to be a dad.”

  A lot more back-slapping happened as people congratulated him and Salma Rose.

  “Hey, Nero.” Shelly turned away from the line of people to meet him.

  “Hey, that’s not fair. He’s jumping in front of the line. It’s my turn to say hi to Shelly Summers,” a man complained.

  Shelly paused and addressed the man with a soft smile, “My apologies, but I’ve known Nero since he was a teenager. Tell you what, if you can be patient for a few minutes, Mila will give you a hug in the meantime.”

  I stepped forward. “Shelly, you can’t give out hugs from Mila as you please.”

  Shelly looked baffled. “But Mila loves to hug.”

  “Still, it should be her decision and not yours,” I argued.

  “Don’t tell me you’re as jealous and possessive as the Nmen. I didn’t take you to be that kind of man, Jonah.”

  “I’m not. Mila can hug whomever she chooses, but it’s up to her and no one else.”

  The man in question followed our conversation until Mila laughed and opened her arms. “A hug never harmed anyone.”

  “So, what have you been up to, Nero?” Shelly lifted her elbow and pointed it at him. When he looked confused, Hunter explained, “Shelly is tired of us not being comfortable touching women so she came up with a new way to greet us with a minimum of touch.

  “Ahh…” With a grin, Nero bumped his elbow against hers and answered her question. “I’ve been fine. Business is good and I made a lot of
extra money training the contestants.”

  “You offer fight training?”

  “Yeah. But my main job is trade.”

  Leaning back with her eyes narrowed a bit, Shelly asked, “Are you fighting in the tournament?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? If you’re so good at fighting why not win the money?”

  “First of all, Mila was the bride and no offense, but I didn’t want Magni as a father-in-law.”

  Mila was done hugging and moved closer to me. “Ah, stop it. My dad isn’t half as bad as you all make him out to be.”

  Nero stood his ground. “Yeah, well, I pity the man who makes you unhappy, even once. Magni is no joke and he always overreacted when it came to you.”

  “He’s just protective.”

  Shelly crossed her arms with an inquisitive look on her face. “But Mila isn’t part of the tournament anymore. You could fight for the money now.”

  Tucking his hands in his pockets, Nero rocked back on his feet. “I could, but there are too many Doomsmen signed up, and against them none of us stand a chance.”

  Leo, who stood in his police uniform and kept an eye on the line, snorted. “That’s because they’re all fucking mutants.”

  My brows furrowed. “I thought you were best friends with Zasquash and Solo. They’re Doomsmen.”

  “Sure. I love those two, but they’re fucking giants.”

  Nero shot a smile at my sister, Anne, who was following the conversation. Before he could talk to her, Shelly continued:

  “I never knew you were into trade.”

  “No? Hmm, it’s not as exciting as what you do. Did you by any chance invent time travel yet?”

  “When did I ever say that I’d invent time travel?”

  “You’re a genius. Do something useful with it.” He gave a charming grin.

  Shelly didn’t seem to pick up on his joke and answered in all earnestness, “Well, I’m busy on so many other projects at the moment, but the thought of time traveling is fascinating. I’ve been reading all I can find on quantum mechanics and discussed with my colleagues how, at least on a theoretical level, we should be able to reverse the direction of time.”

 

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