Chapter Text
Through nationalist pride of her own, Hannah manages to outwit most of her competition with ease. It never occurred to her or anyone how she could do these academic tricks of the mind; to her, it felt normal, to others it was by some miracle.
Many girls her age often dreamed of serving under their elite nation or finding love in a noble family, no matter what it might have cost them. Hannah, however, wants to be the one in control. Whenever she looks up at the skyline of iron and bronze, a whim so strong it overrides any of her thoughts fills her. That’s where she wants to be, looking down at other individuals who even dream of themselves in her position. Then, she shoots them down, knowing the position is in her hands and no one else will pull the rug other than her.
Her inexperience limits that dream to just a dream. For the time being, she was all right about that. It gave her a form of hope, understanding with patience and time, this place would be hers eventually.
Sky and water fused and hung low in the asphalt streets outside. Hannah sat quietly in her mother’s alcove and looked out their front window to witness the countless diesel-fuelled vehicles producing smoke with every trudge forward. It was her favourite sight. In her lap sat on a linen-woven skirt, a notepad with two paragraphs of written sentences. It wasn’t uncommon for Hannah to draw inspiration from her outside environment, even when her speech had little to nothing to do with the environment she surrounds herself with.
“Hannah, dear,” her mother's shoes stepped on concrete flooring and reverberated calmly in her home, “your advisor would like to have a word with you.”
“When did he arrive? I did not see nor hear him earlier.” Hannah asked, looking back at her mother.
“He rang me through the horn, telling me he arrived without notice. Come on, he wants to exchange some words.”
Hannah set her notepad on the alcove and followed the woman through the living space, and kitchen area then through the solarium into the back garden. After exiting the solarium, her mother left back inside. The distant sound of machines releasing pressure echoed through the neighbourhood. As expected, Hannah’s advisor was waiting for her presence. An older man dressed in a fashionable waistcoat understated in relevance but pleasing to look at.
“Miss Rose,”
“Mr. Elmstone,”
He gave her an impressed smile. “I must say, after your performance at our last regional meeting, the International Debate Association has their attention caught onto you. Not to mention, they’re asking you to attend their conference that will be happening soon.”
Hannah was less than pleased. “With all due respect, Mr. Elmstone, no contender against me stands a chance. They offer no new cards to the table, the same table of cards I’ve memorized for years now and know all tricks to be known and discovered. Every method to counteract it, I’ve mastered for more than two years.”
“And I’m fully aware of your talent, Miss Rose. I know better than to keep bringing you competition that doesn’t challenge you any. That’s why, whenever I spoke with the president of the association himself, I asked for their best contender. The one I’m sure you will find demanding.”
Her interest was barely piqued at demanding. She couldn’t help but feel bored with any contest thrown her way; she manages to eviscerate them with style and class every single time.
“Who are they?”
“Another girl of your same calibre. She hails from S:MP, the city-state?”
“What a big deal. I promise you the beatniks over there are nothing compared to this city’s finest. Besides, what does a cyber girl know about this place’s infrastructure, the culture associated with beaming nationalism? As far as I’m aware, she’s a stick in the mud.”
Mr. Elmstone smiled and gave a quiet clap of approval. “I appreciate your spirited nature, Miss Rose. You hardly even know her name and are already providing extraordinary points against her.”
“It’s nothing personal. I’d recommend giving me someone of my calibre, then making a proper impression of them before you appeal to my spirit.” Hannah’s confidence was none to be fooled around with. She could easily create well-structured and impactful arguments on the spot if she was so pleased.
“Well, if there’s anyone who knows your capability, it’s going to be me. I made sure she was their finest, and I put in a few words myself explaining your talent.”
Hannah wouldn’t consider herself snobbish. She comes from a humble home, but her abilities are nothing to be humble about. She excels in mostly everything and never fails to appeal to her superiors, especially the High Court during her last meeting.
“Then I sure hope she gives me a challenge.”
“Walk with me, darling.”
They exited her garden through the brick gate, heading down to the canal running between the residential neighbourhood and their operating city. Ships full of cargo slowly sail by as the girl and man walked silently. When Hannah looked up, she could see the sun peeking through the thick rain clouds from last night’s storm. Sunshine after rain is her favourite period of the day.
“I’ve heard many stories about life down the river,” Hannah began, “a life ruled by deontology instead of utilitarianism. It’s fascinating.”
“How so?”
She stared farther south of the river. “Instead of functioning for the outcome, they settle on the means. If the outcome could benefit society yet the means of doing so is morally incorrect, they will halt the process entirely. It’s… obsolete in this world, yet it’s their sole reason in society.”
Hannah was raised to be utilitarian, in a society where it is the only thing people understand and are familiar with. If the result is what betters society as a whole, then the actions to achieve it will not matter as much as said outcome. That’s what she believes, at least.
“They are the ones to reject our ideologies, so we gave them their district in the same city. Yet, we’ve never been more segregated as of recently.” Elmstone explained, also staring down the river. “Our tensions might be the reason why their society is not as blazoned across the map as ours, why their infrastructure fails to achieve what we have.”
“... But, they are still citizens of our city, no?”
“Technically, but if they do not move on from their obsolete methods of running society, they will not get treated as such.”
It was radical, Hannah thought, to put them on such a low pedestal because they didn’t follow in our footsteps. “But why must we treat them lower than us? They’re still our citizens nonetheless, sir.”
“Have you not seen their societal functions and guidelines? You have mentioned it before; they abide by their ethics code, and if their code says otherwise, then they do not continue further with any action violating it. It’s almost pathetic how they continue to follow this code when all it has done was set them back decades of advancements. In their minds, they have a utopian society they’re attempting to manifest through foolish propaganda and false hope. In reality, it will always fall flat.”
Hannah didn’t know what to think. If they remain imprudent about their decisions as a society, as a republic; are they truly worthy of their help? More likely, why is it that they stay losing more than they stay gaining?
“Now, I mean this in no way to demean you, Miss Rose, but it must be said,” he began, his tone ambivalent, “Your achievements are certainly above your age bracket. Having graduated secondary education top of your class at twelve, studying in the city’s most prestigious university by fourteen and entering national competitions at fifteen; you are nothing short of an ace. But I must wonder, what exactly are your end goals?”
Since the day she attended her first military rally, Hanah had an unwavering vision of being this city’s next political leader. Elected by the people, inaugurated in the grand court, to push this city in the direction she envisions. It’s always been her end goal, nothing more and nothing less.
“To rule this city. I want to mean something to this world, and I’ll provide everything necessary to reach it.”
The el train above the rowhouse neighbourhood rushed by, creating a light draft and noise to those below the railway. Her advisor’s state remained ambivalent. “That’s… quite the dream, Miss Rose.”
“It’s not a dream if it’s possible. Dreams are unreachable fantasies, mine is a tangible reality awaiting its moment.” Hannah’s tone was candid, determined to achieve what she had planned for so long.
“... I imagine great things for you, Rose, it’s always been in my best interest to observe your success and provide those opportunities for you. But…”
Hannah glanced at him and his dubious expression.
“... Have you considered the sheer size of your dream? Perhaps it’s better to stay where your bracket exceeds in.”
She couldn’t believe what she was being told. In her face, she was told to back down and stay dormant; to stay in her lane. Hannah could only assume this was contempt seeping through his tone, as he was unable to imagine her outside his expectations. She could also argue this was his way of protecting her. Nonetheless, Hannah didn’t want his pity.
“I have considered it, and no giant ever scared me when I was a girl.”
“Miss Rose, you are still a girl. You will not know the weight of your dreams until you’re older, and by then, it will be far too late to correct yourself. I am only trying to simplify for you. Becoming president, it’s too large for a girl like you to imagine. With all the responsibilities and tasks assigned once you’re in the office, it’s unlike anything you will imagine, Rose.”
“A girl like me…?” Hannah asked with faux ignorance, knowing full well what he meant. “What does my status have anything to do with what I want? Becoming a leader should have nothing to do with any individual’s origins. I feel you would be most familiar with this concept, seeing you have originated from a poorer neighbourhood yourself.”
“And that’s why your logic will fall flat when it comes to the presidency.” Mr. Elmstone gestured to the grand skyscraper overlooking the entire city-state, along with the smaller skyscrapers accompanying it. “The presidency was always about the people, but the more people began to notice a pattern, the quicker it came to light.”
“What pattern?”
“... How this city was run by the individuals in the upper class. Regardless of how much the lower class is needed, how much they do to keep this city operating, there is almost no word for them in the High Court.”
Hannah doesn’t believe his empathy story. Her family is a part of the working class, although not considered very lowly. Regardless, she knows the struggle and continues to advocate for suffrage in her ability. She knows words have power, just as much as actions do. Everyone is protesting for a change, but she is the one who’s making the change. In her head, that is. As aforementioned, with enough patience and dedication, Hannah will be the one to bring change.
“I will change it.”
“Miss Rose—”
“With all due respect, Mr. Elmstone, your opinion and the likes of others as well garners no concern from me. I own my ability and I know what I’m capable of doing, and what I am not capable of. You may advise me, but if I were to function on my lonesome, there is no telling whether I would need your guidance or not. If you were as confident in my ability as I am, perhaps your opinion will change. Nonetheless, your opinion is subject to you, and there’s no reason I would change it except for you to see me in a different light. So, if I were you, I’d trust my ability as much as I do. You may see me as a little girl, but I’m capable, more than capable, Mr. Elmstone.”
The sun finally shone down on Hannah’s glory, as if the world was putting a spotlight on her in reverence. Her oak brown hair swayed in the breeze, her emerald green eyes staring directly into his with utter dignity, and her posture remained confident and admirable. Mr. Elmstone could not deny Rose’s sophistication, an aficionado of her bracket will win the crowd over every time including him. Her entire being glowed, it was like the world was shouting for everyone to admire her; nothing he’s seen in another pupil like his. It seems Rose has become the pinnacle of what Mr. Elmstone imagines his dream student of becoming; confident enough to become independent and be an excellent example of proper teaching and diligence. Circumstances and fate forced Mr. Elmstone into a believer, turning the teacher into the student; it knocked him to his knees and forced him to pray. There was no denying this girl — not for a second.
“Now, if you will excuse me, I must attend afternoon tea. Thank you for your time, Mr. Elmstone.” Hannah ended their conversation, removing herself officially and leaving Mr. Elmstone awestruck.
Hannah strolled down the canal for a while, overlooking the shimmering water flowing by in the direction of the wind. Her skirt lightly rocked with every step she took, her coffee-coloured leather boots echoed through the concrete halls, and the slightly bitter wind nipped at her porcelain skin. Life wasn’t too sure what to make of this girl, so it guides her along in this dystopian world. It couldn’t bring her down, no matter how hard it tried, so it allowed her to float above for a moment.
Hannah entered the garden through the brick gate, greeted by her mother awaiting her arrival at the solarium. Her mother smiled. “How was your talk?”
She reciprocated the smile. “We discussed important topics, breaking the ice if you will.”
Her mother approached her daughter with open arms; Hannah hugged her mother promptly inside their flora and fauna-grown garden. “I’m proud of you, my fairy; never let anyone rip away what’s special about you.”
“I won’t, Mom, I won’t.”
Their embrace lasted longer than was anticipated. But, it shared its sentiments well and far. Her mother pulled away, looking down at her achieved daughter. “Strawberry scones as usual?”
As her mother prepared the table for their afternoon tea, Hannah headed to the living alcove and grabbed her notepad and writing utensil, bringing them over to the kitchenette. “How’s your speech coming along?” Her mother asked curiously, sipping her cup of tea,
“Good, I’d say,” Hannah observed the intro, brainstorming ideas while taking light, slow sips of the piping hot tea. It never took her long to create an idea, a good hook to entice readers and listeners alike to continue indulging. Not only was she a skilled debater, but an incredible writer too. In a moment’s kiss, she erased her original introduction and wrote a new one in place.
“To my dear contenders and listeners alike, I am perfectly capable. If I were you, I’d trust my ability as much as I do. To see the world from my viewpoint, unbiased and utilitarian, we must see each other eye-to-eye, hand-to-hand to understand our issues as a whole, not from one’s bias, but together as one to conceive the ultimate truth behind our actions. As we move forward into our built future, I want us to recognize each other as equals. To see our fault, we must acknowledge our own and then some. Heed my values as your own, unbiased and utilitarian, and I firmly believe we will see and build off our toil. My dear contenders and listeners alike, I am perfectly capable. If I were you, I’d participate and watch as we flee into our destiny of choice, not a contest of hatred or contempt; the choice of our very own.”