I Woke Up in a Reverse World Utopia with a 10,000 to 1 Ratio-Chapter 12: Gubernatorial

My ass is going numb on this hard wooden bench, but at least the courtroom’s impressive architecture gives me something to stare at while we wait. Soaring marble columns reach toward a domed ceiling.

I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the pleasant soreness lingering in my muscles from last night’s marathon session with Kate. Three hours of tangled limbs and breathless whispers have left me physically drained but mentally floating on a cloud. Not even this formal hearing can bring me down.

Kate shifts beside me, her uniform crisp and perfect as always, not a hint that she spent half the night with her legs wrapped around my waist. Her fingers brush against mine, a barely-there touch that sends electricity racing up my arm.

"Are you nervous?" she asks, her voice low enough that only I can hear.

I shake my head, trying to look more confident than I feel. "No, not at all."

Kate’s eyebrow arches skeptically. "Really?"

"I’m just hoping to be in and out of here," I shrug, scanning the massive chamber with its tiered seating and ornate carvings. "Say my piece and go back to our room."

She studies me with those penetrating green eyes that seem to see right through me. "You’re treating this like an errand," she says, not quite a question.

"It kind of is though," I reply, fidgeting with the sleeve of my new formal attire, a white tunic with gold trim that feels uncomfortably like something a sacrifice might wear.

Kate opens her mouth to respond, but the sudden sound of doors opening draws our attention. A procession of women in pristine white robes files into the upper gallery, their faces solemn as they take their seats. Each wears a golden pin shaped like a DNA helix on her left shoulder, marking them as Council members. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

I recognize Governor Harrington immediately from the television broadcasts, her severe silver ponytail and ramrod-straight posture unmistakable even from this distance. She doesn’t take a seat with the Council but stands at a raised platform, surveying the room.

A commotion at the side entrance draws all eyes. Two guards march in a woman whose wrists and ankles are bound with gleaming metal restraints. Despite her orange jumpsuit and the bruise darkening one cheek, she carries herself with defiant dignity.

Eliza. That’s her. My old guardian.

She looks nothing like I expected, though I’m not sure what I was anticipating. Her features are sharp, angular, nothing like Kate’s softer curves.

What catches my attention, though, is the jagged line running down her right cheek. A scar, almost identical to mine.

I lean closer to Kate, keeping my voice low. "Why does she have the same cut on her face as me?"

Kate’s lips curve into a smile that’s equal parts pride and something darker. "I gave it to her," she whispers back, her voice carrying a note of satisfaction that sends a shiver down my spine.

"You did?" I blink in surprise. "Why?"

Kate’s eyes never leave Eliza as she responds, "Well, an eye for an eye."

The casual way she says it, like she’s discussing the weather instead of permanently marking another human being, should probably terrify me. Instead, a twisted heat coils in my stomach. There’s something primal about knowing Kate would hurt someone for hurting me.

I lean even closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "That’s hot, Kate, but maybe don’t go attacking people at the risk of breaking us up, okay?"

Before Kate can respond, Governor Harrington’s voice cuts through the chamber like a whip. "Subject 7D-42, please approach the podium."

I stand, suddenly aware of every eye in the room following my movements. The wooden floor creaks beneath my feet as I make my way to the small platform at the center of the chamber. From this vantage point, I can see Eliza more clearly. She’s eyeing me like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

"Subject 7D-42," Governor Harrington begins, her voice echoing in the cavernous space. "You have requested the opportunity to address the Council regarding the sentence of former Guardian Eliza Pierce. Do you understand the gravity of this proceeding?"

I clear my throat, suddenly self-conscious with all these eyes on me. "Actually, um, could we maybe use my name instead of that number? Tyler Donovan."

The chamber falls into a strange silence. I glance around, confused by the reaction. Behind me, I hear Kate whisper "Donovan?" with genuine bewilderment in her voice.

Governor Harrington’s eyebrows shoot up as she shuffles through some papers in front of her. She looks up, fixing me with a penetrating stare.

"Did you just... give yourself a surname?" she asks, her tone somewhere between curiosity and suspicion.

I turn to Kate, completely confused by everyone’s reaction. She steps closer, placing a gentle hand on my arm as she leans in.

"Tyler," she whispers, her breath warm against my ear, "you only have your designation and one name, Tyler. Men don’t have surnames in our society."

The realization hits me like a bucket of cold water. Of course. In this world where men are numbered resources rather than full citizens, why would they have family names?

"I..." I swallow hard, turning back to the Governor. "My apologies. It seems I’ve invented ’Donovan’ out of nowhere. Just Tyler is fine."

Governor Harrington studies me for a moment longer, then gives a curt nod. "Very well," she says, before continuing with formal precision. "Tyler, you have requested the opportunity to address the Council regarding the sentence of former Guardian Eliza Pierce. Do you understand the gravity of this proceeding?"

I shift my weight, suddenly aware of how casual I must seem in comparison to the formality surrounding me. "Yeah," I respond, then quickly add, "I mean, yes. I understand. I just... I’m good with her. I don’t want her to die."

The words hang in the air for a moment before the room erupts into murmurs. Eliza’s eyes widen dramatically, her composure cracking for the first time since she entered. Around the chamber, Council members exchange shocked glances and whispered comments.

The only person who doesn’t look surprised is Kate. Her expression remains perfectly neutral, though I notice her fingers tighten slightly where they rest against her thigh.

Governor Harrington raises her hand, and the chamber falls silent once more. "You are requesting clemency for the woman who permanently disfigured you?" Her tone makes it clear how unprecedented this is.

"Yeah," I nod, straightening my shoulders. "I’m over it, to be honest. I don’t even remember her hurting me."

A strangled "What the fuck?" escapes from one of Eliza’s guards, loud enough to echo through the chamber. The council members start whispering frantically to each other, papers shuffling as they lean in close.

Governor Harrington’s eyes dart between me and Kate, her expression shifting from confusion to calculation. She scrutinizes Kate’s perfectly composed face for several seconds, then looks back at me with narrowed eyes. Something seems to click in her mind, and her posture changes subtly.

She sighs deeply, setting down her papers with a deliberate motion.

"Council," she announces, her voice cutting through the murmurs, "I am invoking my Gubernatorial right to take over these proceedings." The authority in her tone leaves no room for argument, though I see a few council members exchange concerned glances.

Governor Harrington turns her attention directly to me, her weathered face unreadable. "Tyler, I wish to speak with you alone." She gestures broadly to the room. "Everyone else, please leave us."

The chamber erupts into motion as council members rise from their seats, gathering their materials with confused mutters. The guards standing near Eliza look uncertain, but a sharp nod from the Governor sends them moving toward the exit, half-dragging my former guardian with them.

Governor Harrington descends from her elevated position, each step measured and deliberate as she makes her way down to my level. Her movements remind me of a predator, unhurried but purposeful.

I glance back at Kate, who hasn’t moved an inch. Her face is a perfect mask of professional calm, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the slight whitening of her knuckles where her hands rest on her knees.

Governor Harrington notices too. She turns toward Kate, one silver eyebrow arched high.

"You too, Director Flynn," she says, her raspy voice carrying a clear note of command.

Kate rises slowly, her eyes finding mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. There’s something in her gaze, a warning, maybe, or instructions I can’t quite decipher. She seems incredibly reluctant to leave me alone, her tall frame hesitating at the edge of her row.

"Director Flynn," Governor Harrington repeats, more firmly this time.

Kate’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly before she gives a curt nod. "Of course, Governor." She turns to leave, each step measured and graceful despite her obvious reluctance.

The heavy doors close behind her with a resounding thud, leaving me alone with the most powerful woman in New Boston.

Governor Harrington gestures toward a polished wooden bench nearby. "Let’s sit down, Tyler."

I follow her to the bench, my new formal clothes rustling as I lower myself. Up close, the exhaustion etched into her face is more apparent, deep lines around her eyes that speak of decades of difficult decisions.

"I’m going to ask you something," she says, her voice lower now that we’re alone, "and I need complete honesty." Her gray eyes bore into mine with unsettling intensity. "Are you being coerced to help Eliza?"

The question catches me off guard. "No, not at all," I respond immediately, shaking my head. "If anything, I think Kate would rather see Eliza die."

Governor Harrington doesn’t seem surprised by my answer. "Interesting," she murmurs. "Then why do you want to save your former guardian? A woman who, by all accounts, tried to kill you?"

I glance down at my hands, turning the question over in my mind. It’s not like I feel some deep connection to Eliza, she’s essentially a stranger to me. But still...

"Because I don’t want someone’s death on me," I finally say, looking back up at her. "That’s a lot to handle." I pause, surprised by my next thought but deciding to voice it anyway. "I’m not sure if God exists, but I really don’t want that to be held against me if He is real."

Something flickers across the Governor’s weathered face, amusement, perhaps, or surprise.

The Governor’s lips curl into a thin smile. "Weren’t you taught that God doesn’t forgive those who attack men?" she asks, her voice taking on an almost condescending tone.

I can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes me. Of course they’ve weaponized religion too. In a world where men are treated like endangered species, it makes perfect sense they’d rewrite divine judgment to protect their precious resources.

"Governor," I say, meeting her gaze steadily, "whatever answer you’re fishing for, I don’t have it. I just don’t want Eliza to die." I take a deep breath, deciding to be completely honest. "The only person I really care about in this world is Kate. If Eliza had attacked her instead of me, I’d probably be begging you to pull the trigger myself. If you told me killing Eliza was the only way to keep Kate safe, I’d say kill away, but Kate assured me that’s not the case."

Something shifts in Governor Harrington’s expression. "There were reports that Eliza’s sister approached you yesterday," she says, watching my reaction carefully.

"She did," I confirm with a nod. "She was crying, desperate. No one wants to see their sister die."

Governor Harrington leans back slightly, her silver ponytail catching the light. "And you believe that’s all there was to it? A sister’s desperate plea?"

"What else would it be?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"If it were my sister who did this to you," she says, her voice low and gravelly, "I would kill her myself."

I blink, taken aback by her blunt declaration. The intensity in her eyes leaves no doubt that she means every word.

"I think that’s extremely patriotic of you," I reply, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm from my voice. Then I straighten my shoulders, meeting her gaze directly. "Me though? If Kate hurt another man, I would move mountains to save her."

The Governor studies me for several more seconds. Finally, she stands, smoothing the front of her impeccable uniform.

"So be it," she announces, her voice echoing in the empty chamber. "Eliza will be released from our custody."

Relief washes through me, mixed with a strange sense of power. I’ve just saved someone’s life with nothing more than a few words.

"What will happen to her?" I ask, suddenly concerned about what "release" might actually mean in this strange new world.

Governor Harrington’s lips press into a thin line. "I can’t tell you," she says, her tone making it clear this part of the conversation is non-negotiable. "But she won’t die."

Something in her voice, a subtle undercurrent of grimness, makes my stomach twist. "Will she have preferred to die?" I ask quietly.

The Governor’s eyes meet mine, cold and unflinching. "That’s up to her," she says simply. "Not me."