The Trojan Horse of Boston
As Will’s revelations continued, Harris found himself unable to comprehend what he was hearing. No abuse? They were well-fed and exercised? And what was this about being introduced to a girlfriend?
His first thought was, "Will has finally lost his mind."
Logically, it was impossible for what Will was saying to be true. He had seen people’s minds break before. When exposed to extreme stress and despair, it becomes difficult for anyone to maintain their sanity. Why should Will be any different? A slave who craved freedom more than anyone else had made it all the way to Boston, only to be met with discrimination and cast back into the life of a slave. In such a horrific situation, only a handful of people could hope to remain sane.
"Will... you poor soul. Yes, I see. So that was the life you dreamed of when you came to the North."
"That is correct. No matter how much I was discriminated against by the white men, no matter how I was treated as a second-class citizen, I thought that if I worked myself to the bone and tried hard enough, I would at least receive some form of compensation."
"I have nothing to say to that. But we plan to continue informing all of Boston of the unjust treatment you have suffered."
"There is no need. I am more comfortable here, so I intend to stay here for the rest of my life. I wouldn't go back to Boston even if you beat me to death."
...This wasn't supposed to happen.
If the conclusion turned out like this, all the articles he had written so far would be reduced to trash. He had intended to weave together a full-course meal of planters abusing innocent Black people, topped off with the "misery porn" of Will, a slave stripped of his freedom. He had never imagined that he wouldn't be able to serve the main dish.
Only then did Editor-in-Chief Harris understand why James Sett had been so confident in letting them meet Will. He didn't know what methods had been used, but Sett had already completely subjugated Will’s mind.
Threats? Coercion? Violence?
He didn't know how he had broken a man like that, but he was now certain that they had fallen into Sett’s trap.
"Will, we still believe in you! We know your will to crave freedom cannot be broken so easily!"
"It is unfortunate, but I have already made up my mind. If I spend my days faithfully here, the day I desire will surely come."
"That is the very method Sett used to brainwash you..."
"My time is up. I shall take my leave now. I have a date with May."
With those words, Will rose from his seat, but the staff of the Boston Advertiser remained frozen in their places, as if possessed by ghosts.
When Leo, the personal slave serving Sett, asked them to please leave the plantation, Harris snapped out of his stupor and pleaded once more.
"J-just one more time! We were underprepared, so we haven't finished the interview properly yet. We will prepare thoroughly and come back, so could you please spare us some more time?"
"I will ask the Master."
He had expected a flat refusal, but about 15 minutes later, Leo returned and nodded, telling them to do as they pleased.
"He says it does not matter. However, he asks that you refrain from pressing Will or asking uncomfortable questions. Will might not want to continue the interview."
"I... I understand."
Anyone watching would think they were the ones forcing a reluctant man to reveal secrets. Regardless of his absurdity, Harris had to admit that their preparation had been woefully inadequate.
Returning to their lodging, they held an emergency strategy meeting, acknowledging once again that James Sett was a far more cunning man than they had anticipated, and sought a counter-strategy.
"Honestly, I don't know how this is possible."
At someone’s mutter, no one in the room could readily answer. In the silence, veteran reporter Thompson emptied his whiskey glass with a bitter expression.
"He... looked healthy. He wasn't the gaunt friend we saw in Boston. And that anger at the end... was that really the struggle of a terrified man? I felt sincerity."
"Then are you saying Will has truly defected? That he has become satisfied with the life of a slave?"
"Rather than defected... it’s closer to being destroyed."
Editor-in-Chief Harris, who was presiding over the meeting, opened his mouth heavily. Unlike yesterday, his voice was low and sunken.
"I have to admit it. We underestimated James Sett too much. He is not a simple tyrant like the other planters scattered across the South. He is far more cunning, a demonic figure. Instead of breaking the body with a whip, he has broken the mind in a clever way."
Thompson nodded as if agreeing with Harris.
"It is a classic technique. Taming the mind, not the body. The problem is that we cannot understand how he managed to do this."
The source of everyone’s bewilderment lay right there. They knew he had done something, but they were going crazy because they couldn't figure out the method.
Then, a young reporter carefully asked a question, as if he still couldn't accept it.
"But Editor-in-Chief... what if... what if, by any chance, Will is telling the truth? Is there no possibility that James Sett is genuinely treating the slaves well?"
"Talk sense!"
Harris shouted.
He slammed his hand onto the desk, erupting in anger.
"Are you going to bring up the 'Kind Slaveholder' theory that the Dixies claim? You know that means the same thing as an honest thief or a merciful murderer! The foundation of this system is kidnapping, exploiting, and working humans like livestock—how can goodness exist within that! Don't let your judgment be clouded by Sett’s clever theater!"
Harris gasped for air and looked around the room. Everyone’s face was filled with agitation and anxiety.
"Instead, let us discuss the realistic problem facing us. What do you think will happen if we print exactly what Will said in our article? The moment the sentence, 'I am happier living as a slave here than in Boston,' is published, our Boston Advertiser will become a propaganda rag for the South and a laughingstock across the United States. Not only this special feature we prepared so ambitiously, but our newspaper itself will be finished."
It was a joke that wasn't even funny. They had come to expose the barbarity of the South and prove the moral superiority of the North, only to return with nothing but testimony that Southern slavery was better. There could be no worse defeat than this.
Perhaps this was the very plan James Sett had been aiming for. A vicious, diabolical scheme to make a Boston newspaper admit its own defeat.
A desperate silence weighed down the conference room. Harris, who had been pacing the room for a long time, stopped, chewing his lips.
"We have only one method left."
He looked straight at Thompson, and then at everyone sitting in the room, one by one.
"Will’s mind may have fallen into the hands of that devil, but the facts do not change. Somewhere in that brilliantly packaged plantation, there must be a hidden truth. Even a gold-plated cage has bars. We must find those bars."
"But is that possible? We saw it earlier. That place is a perfect fortress. There is no way to enter..."
"We must create a way."
It was a blessing in disguise, but they already held the final opportunity to enter that fortress.
"I will request an interview with Sett once again. This time, I will ask for a conversation between the three of us, not just Will. If I use the pretext that 'Will’s mental state seems unstable, so it would be better if you, his master, were present for a sincere conversation,' he won't be able to refuse."
"Are you saying you will act as bait to keep them occupied, Editor-in-Chief?"
"Yes. While I keep Sett and Will’s attention as long as possible, you, Thompson—the fastest and most experienced in undercover reporting—will secretly scour the inside of the plantation."
It was dangerous, but it was the only solution to turn the situation around.
"Find the torture chamber where the whip marks remain. Record the sight of children suffering from hunger. Capture the desperate look in the slaves' eyes that appears when the master isn't watching. Bring back the horrific truth of that Sett plantation, which is the very reason we came here. Keep in mind that our honor and the success of this fight now depend on your two eyes and your feet."
No matter how much he had brainwashed the slaves with fear and coercion, he wouldn't be able to cover up the truth rooted deep within the plantation. Thus, the warriors of Boston resolved to become the Trojan Horse to bring down the fortress of the Great Demon.
* * *
"...So, the reporters left without a fuss?"
"Yes. No one left their posts or strayed from the formation as soon as they entered the plantation."
Did I overestimate them? I hadn't expected them to just honestly interview Will and leave, but whether the Boston Advertiser reporters had their mentalities shattered or genuinely thought this was enough, they didn't take any action during the first round.
Still, they asked for a chance to redeem themselves, so I suppose I can look forward to the next round, right?
"You told Will he would have to do another interview, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"How did he feel about the last one?"
"He said it was unpleasant because they kept trying to subtly disparage you, Master. He said, honestly, he didn't want to do it anymore, but he would endure it if it helped you."
"His heart is commendable. Give him some extra vouchers for the Love House so he can have a good time with May."
The fact that the Boston Advertiser had come down to Mississippi had already spread throughout the South via the Fire-Eaters. The North, too, was hiding its anticipation, wondering what kind of incredible article they were writing that even the Editor-in-Chief had gone down there, so the Boston Advertiser must be feeling the heat.
Editor-in-Chief Harris even tried to pull some major aggro, thinking it was his masterstroke, by declaring war on me to keep my promise. Since the ability to pull aggro is an essential virtue for a reporter, one could say he made the best choice he could.
However, since he decided to pick a fight with me, I must prove to the entire United States that I am not a man who says one thing and does another. So, I told them the truth about how Will lives on the plantation.
But since they have common sense, they would obviously know that they couldn't publish that answer in an article, and they would be desperate to find any angle to disparage me.
"Leo, tell the foremen on guard duty again. Just pretend not to see any slightly suspicious behavior."
"Yes. I will instruct them to pretend they know nothing with all their might. Then, shall I say we accept Editor-in-Chief Harris’s request for a joint interview with you and Will?"
"Yes. Instead, make sure to demand this clearly: 'James Sett fully complied with all the demands of the Boston Advertiser and kept his promise. He is not a man who says one thing and does another.' Tell them to print this phrase on the front page of the newspaper, regardless of whether the special feature runs or not."
If the phrase "James Sett kept his promise" is printed, but the core special feature article is missing, what kind of reaction will the people have?
Honestly, I’m curious too.
So, Editor-in-Chief Harris.
Show us. For the sake of satisfying all of our curiosities.