Afterglow. The Justification of Chaos - стр. 5
Yes, Andrew didn’t have to mention the closed North. I was sure that in a couple of weeks, it would fall under the same strict ban as the civil war in the southwestern territories and the organization Ancerb, which had vanished about a year and a half ago. So, no matter how risky our trip was, we couldn’t afford to miss even the smallest chance to understand what was happening.
I sighed heavily, glancing furtively at the fresh newspaper next to Sam. The headlines were full of news about yet another official behind bars; about how the civil war (and any military actions) in the distant southwest had ended last year, and any contradiction to that was lies, sabotage, and attempts to undermine the authority of the ruling monarchs. However, such formulations were no longer surprising; government scribes churned out the same articles on repeat, desperately trying to convince the loyal subjects of the State of the Three of its legitimacy, the control over the situation in the closed North, where rumors spoke of an almost apocalyptic event, and in the southwest, where the peninsula and the stronghold of resistance, The Cold Calm, had been waging a civil war for thirteen years for their right to secede.
The official on the front page of the newspaper – Ivanko Horst – was one of the few who had started speaking out openly for the right of the Cold Calm to secede; he had also sought to shed light on events and the situation in the North. Now, after being removed from his position and stripped of his title as Marquess of the Northern Lands, he was behind bars on charges of treason, allegedly committed a decade ago.
The trailer suddenly braked sharply, and I lurched forward, barely managing to keep my balance and hold onto the folder of documents. Sam swayed, instinctively grabbing the couch as he woke up, eyes wide. The vehicle started moving again.
“What’s happening? Where are we, Steph?” Sam rasped, peering out the window, “oh, right… I fell asleep. I hope we’ll be done quickly today.”
“If there’s no material, we’ll get some sleep,” I replied, then nodded toward his bright green hoodie with the strange orange monster on it. “We’ll be there soon, change your top.”
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, while I, turning back to the window, leaned against the back of the seat.
We passed a few boulevards and turned onto the bypass road where the hospital we needed was located.
The town of °22-1-20-21-14, located in the northern part of the Isthmus Region. Small, provincial. One would think, what could possibly happen in such a quiet place? But I had been assured that this was exactly where I needed to go. I just had to trust. What did I have to lose? Time? I didn’t think the political police of the Three and the main enforcers of the totalitarian regime – the Reapers – were currently pursuing minor defectors and journalists with particular diligence; there were enough problems without publications that fancied freedom of speech, buried under the weight of years, had returned.
One thing I knew for sure: I simply couldn’t miss the meeting with the chief physician of the local hospital, a doctor of medical sciences who had left the North just over a year ago.
When the hospital appeared outside the window, I noted with surprise that it was quite a large building, towering over the surrounding structures; the new addition to the medical facility stood out, making its size even more disproportionate for such a small town. Around it was an incredible number of cars; Sam stared out the window in confusion, looking at the crowded parking lot. Andrew didn’t find a spot to park right away.