The Girl Who Dared to Think

  After the Citadel, I grew better at hiding my emotional state from my parents and Gerome—but that didn’t change the fact that I was certain we were going to get caught. That I was going to get caught. Whether it would be because of the stupid valve Zoe and I had tampered with, or someone in the Medica figuring out that Grey had Paragon in his system, was yet to be known.

  As a result of my paranoia, and in an attempt to keep the people I cared about safe, I stopped going to the bi-weekly apprenticeship classes so that I could avoid meeting with Zoe and Eric. I felt bad—Zoe netted me fourteen times on the fourth day—but I needed to keep them away from all this.

  After leaving Roark’s that night, burning with a need to tell my best friend what had happened, a sinister thought occurred to me: when they discovered the valve and figured out it had been tampered with, Gerome would confront me about what we had really been doing when he’d caught us near the valve. If I carried out the lie, that Zoe was training me, then we would both go down.

  This meant two things. First, in order to keep Zoe safe, I would have to confess, and tell everyone I had used Zoe in order to learn about the system so I could break the valve. Second, I had to stay as far away from her as possible, so that if I was caught, they would believe my version of events. After all, if we were still spending time together, then my confession would be less believable, as they would assume I was just trying to cover for my friend.

  At least, I hoped those two things would keep her safe—who even knew if there was such a thing as justice anymore. But, with limited options and a smidge of hope, the decision had been made.

  My days were still ablaze with routine, though, which helped keep the paranoia at bay. I made sure to keep my room clean —not because I desired tidiness, but because I felt like my parents were watching me constantly, waiting for me to slip up, doubting the nine on my wrist. I worked out, the need to keep in shape more important than ever before, in case they came for me and I needed to fight. And I worked side by side with Gerome, patrolling the halls and floors of the Tower.

  Gerome still hadn’t brought up what had happened with Grey. And he hadn’t even attempted to schedule a time for me to murder some other person. I didn’t ask, although part of me wondered if I should. I tried to believe that it hadn’t been brought up because of my argument that Grey was just a part of the population who could improve. After all, it would seem like the only reasonable explanation to them, right? Then again, if they didn’t agree, it might explain why he was being so cold with me.

  I was being paranoid—Gerome was habitually stoic and stone-faced, and there was no reason to question his behavior now, save for what I had done. He probably wasn’t acting oddly; he just had a neutral, somewhat bland demeanor. Like always.

  If there had been a problem, it would’ve been mentioned by now. Surely, they’d have found the valve, and learned that most—if not all—of the poison hadn’t reached the room. Surely, they’d have figured out that someone had tampered with it, and there was only one reason for anyone to have done so. Gerome had seen Zoe and me down there. Why hadn’t he said anything about it?

  Because they don’t associate it with you, I reminded myself patiently. They can’t. Parts break down all the time, and a nine on the wrist is a massive deterrent for those who follow Scipio loyally, as a nine would never do anything to hurt the Tower or go against Scipio. I’m protected by the very system they created to keep people like me down.

  Basically, it seemed I was enjoying the benefits of being Prim, but without actually being her.

  Except when I had to, of course.

  I stared out the window of my room at a group of first-year Squires practicing baton fighting on their lashes, and turned away from it. I spent as little time at home as possible, but I still needed to come here to change clothes and eat. In a few short months, I would be in my own quarters, provided by Scipio, and I wouldn’t have to look at my parents any longer... and see little more than murderers. I also wouldn’t be putting them in danger by associating with them—because as angry and horrified as I was, I didn’t want them to be at risk of execution, their tens thrown into question by my use of Paragon. They’d probably go in willingly, with how dedicated they were to Scipio.

  I looked up at the digital time display over my door, and sighed. It was time to go, before Mom and Dad got up.

  Slipping out of the house at five in the morning had become a part of my routine. My parents didn’t start getting ready until six, so it was better this way—to be gone before they could check in and see how I was doing. It galled me that all they cared about was my ranking and how it affected them. I could imagine a pair of tens raising a one wouldn’t reflect well on their parenting skills.

  Then again, I was certain they would rationalize my one status however they wanted to in order to live with themselves, so what did it matter? I didn’t care; I just wanted to get out of here.

  And by out, I meant out of the Tower. Because, as insane as Roark’s idea seemed, it was the only hope I had to cling to. It would mean freedom from Scipio and the insanity of the system. A system in which a ten’s word was worth its weight in gold, while a four was seen as a disgrace already, propelling them farther and farther down with their negativity and fear. Psychological contamination threats kept the lower-ranked members of the population isolated, when they needed to be together, and loved. Efforts made to help them improve. Made to feel like they were worth something more than just an arbitrary number on their wrist. I couldn’t be here anymore, living inside a broken system while I slowly died inside, watching everyone spend the rest of their lives as slaves to Scipio’s needs. I spent every waking moment thinking about what could be out there. Who could be out there. How they had survived, and what life was like for them now.

  Could they see the stars? Were there clouds that formed in the sky like they formed in the greeneries, when the heat from outside caused the water to evaporate, the water in the air growing thicker and thicker until it burst into a gentle rain? Did they have grass? What did it feel like? What did it smell like? What did it taste like?

  I wanted to believe because I wanted to know. Before Roark and Grey, I would never have believed such hope existed. And now that I had it, I found I was impatient to do something about it. I hoped the next two weeks would go by quicker than the first two had. Because otherwise I was going to break down and make my own way back to Roark’s.

  I picked a path that would take me through the Lion’s Den—the biggest outdoor market, which stood just in front of Greenery 10, the farming floor that jutted out the sides of the Tower like dark wings. They always grew the best food. It was the de facto capital of all the greeneries, as the Head Farmer had always resided here.

  I was picking my way through the stalls, when suddenly the hairs on my neck stood on end. The sensation that I was being watched loomed over me. I slowed to a stop, my heart pounding up into my throat. I realized I needed to look busy, and turned toward the stall closest to me, becoming very interested in apples, while furtively searching the crowds for the source of this horrible sensation.

  The feeling started to fade as I looked around, finding no sign of anyone watching me. It lessened considerably as I scanned the market, and suddenly, I felt very silly.

  You’re being paranoid, I told myself, turning away from the stall and heading back down the aisle. If Devon or Gerome knew, they would’ve come to question me already. Besides, even if they were watching, I hadn’t given them anything to be suspicious of. I mean, I had, but I hadn’t done anything bad recently, so...

  I stopped in the middle of one of the narrow aisles between stalls and breathed deeply, trying to calm my fraying nerves. Truthfully, I was more concerned about the paranoia itself. I kept jumping at shadows, my heart hammering every time I saw a Knight heading toward me, and I barely slept anymore, thanks to the nightmares that seemed to find me. It was not a recipe for emotional stability.

  “You okay?” a familiar voice asked, and
I looked over to see Grey standing there in his battered green coveralls, his eyes glittering with humor.

  I immediately looked around, my instincts screaming at me that something was wrong, and he took a step closer, concern radiating from him.

  “Liana?”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, jerking my head around and meeting his eyes. “This greenery is right next to the Citadel! Do you think you should get this close, considering your recent brush with death?”

  “Hey, whoa.” He raised his hands, as if to soothe a startled animal, and I bit back the urge to growl at him. He wasn’t sticking to the plan! Roark had promised me he’d be lying low for a month as well. “I swear, I didn’t know you were here. I was just grabbing some breakfast before I ran a few errands.”

  “Yes, but around the Citadel?” I pointed out, still clinging to the same line of questioning. “I can’t get you out of that room again if you get caught. I can’t. They haven’t even taken me back down there since that day. I—”

  “Liana, calm down,” he cut in, taking another step closer so that only inches separated us, and placing his hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay. I promise. This is accidental, and I’m fine.” He tilted his wrist toward me, revealing his blue, glowing nine, and I nodded, but I wasn’t any less tense. We were so close to the Citadel, and Knights came through here all the time. What if Gerome or Devon came through here—and, being bachelors, they would be through here—and saw us together? I shuddered to think of it.

  Grey studied me, and then looked around. “You need a day off,” he said after a pause. “When’s your shift?”

  “This afternoon,” I replied. “But we really shouldn’t be—”

  “You need to talk,” he said firmly. “Maybe we shouldn’t have just left things like we did. I’ve been pretty paranoid as well, but at least I’ve had Roark as my sounding board. You’ve been all alone with it. What about your friend, the one who helped me?”

  I lowered my gaze, a pang jabbing into my heart. “I’ve been avoiding her... and everyone else. I didn’t want to drag them down with me.”

  Grey frowned, his brows furrowing, and then nodded as if he’d just made a decision that I wasn’t yet privy to. “Wait here for a minute,” he said, his warm eyes earnest. “I’ll be right back.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but he disappeared before I could even say anything, leaving me standing there sputtering. I looked around, wondering if anyone had seen us. It was only five thirty in the morning, but the aisles were already packed with people in an array of colors, using their ration cards to secure their breakfast for the day. Again, there was no reason for it, but it felt like I was being watched, and the longer I stood stock still, waiting for Grey, the worse it got.

  When he finally arrived, I was a mess of nerves, and he noticed. He shifted the bag he was now carrying to his other hand, grabbed mine with his free one, and began guiding me down one of the aisles. I let him, thinking he would let go of my hand as soon as I started to follow. But to my surprise, he didn’t.

  We quickly threaded our way out of the Lion’s Den and down one of the wide platforms that jutted out from the shell and over open space. As soon as we were free, he slowed. We looked at each other, smiled, and looked away, and I felt a blush forming on my cheeks.

  I pushed it back, not letting the nervousness that seemed to form every time Grey was in proximity flood in, and focused on the matter at hand. “We really shouldn’t be seen together so soon,” I said. “We talked about this. We agreed. You were going to keep a low profile in Cogstown and play the good reformed boy.”

  “Relax,” he replied, releasing my hand. “If anyone asks, they’ll probably attribute it to my life-altering near-death experience, and the need I might have to talk about it with someone who was there.”

  “I’m pretty sure they won’t want to ask,” I said under my breath, but he smiled, and I realized he had heard me.

  “Yeah, probably not. I’m surprised they even let me leave. Why aren’t they afraid I’ll say something?”

  “They probably want you to,” I replied bitterly. “It’s Scipio’s will that you survived, and the Knights’ will that you go forth and spread your message of enlightenment, so that others may learn what it is to truly serve.”

  Grey gave me a crooked smile and reached into his bag to pull out a white blob that I immediately recognized as bao: a steamed bun stuffed with a rich filling.

  “It’s curry,” he warned as I took it from his hand, and I gave him a bored look before taking a big bite. Immediately the taste of spicy potatoes and peas caressed my taste buds in an exquisite combination of flavors.

  I chewed and swallowed, barely registering the spice, and looked over at him. “So, you never answered my question. Why are you out of Cogstown?”

  “Roark is crap about getting us food,” he replied. “He barely knows what time it is. Anyway, we ran out last night. I had half a head of lettuce left for dinner tonight, and it won’t last. Believe me, I’m not much of a morning person, but lately...”

  He trailed off and looked away, and I recognized the look—it was one that had settled upon my own features lately—slightly glazed and weary. The look of a person not getting enough sleep.

  “Same here,” I told him, picking at the edges of the bao. “Keep having nightmares... Waking up thinking the Champion is just outside my room, about to press the button and kill me.”

  Grey’s lips quirked up, but his eyes were sad. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t—”

  “Given me your pills?”

  “I was going to say gotten caught. I have no regrets about giving you the pills.”

  We turned down one of the halls, and he stopped, forcing me to as well. “Liana, are you sure about putting distance between you and your friends? I mean, they must be worried about you.”

  I thought of Zoe and all the times she’d tried to reach out to me over the net, and shook my head. “Zoe helped me save you, and I know she wants to know what happened, but... if I tell her any more, I’m just dragging her further in. I can protect her better if I put some distance between us. In case I get caught, I can lie. Tell everyone I acted alone.”

  Grey was silent for a long time. “That is... very noble.”

  “No, it’s not,” I blurted out. I didn’t think of it that way, and I felt unworthy of the word. I was hurting my best friend in the wake of my decision, and I knew it. It was killing me inside, and every day I had to fight with the selfish part of me that just wanted to go to her and break down. But fear held me in place, the fear of losing her forever, and that was not nobility. “She’s my best friend,” I finally said, unable to come up with anything better to explain. “I love her.”

  Grey nodded and looked ahead. “Okay,” he said after a few seconds had passed, with the tone of someone changing the subject. “So, in the event that we aren’t discovered or caught, your plan is what? Wait until we’re ready to go and then grab her and make her come along?”

  I bristled at his tone. “Yeah, actually.” I gave him a challenging look, daring him to contradict me. “Is it that bad an idea?”

  Of course, it wasn’t the best idea—it was barely a concept, but without further information on the how and the when of this mysterious exodus, I was working with what I had. But he didn’t have to point it out to me in such a condescending tone.

  His eyes grew wide and he raised his hand, a sheepish smile on his face. “Not that I can think of; I was just curious. Would it just be her, or would there be anyone else?”

  “Well, my brother, obviously. Although...” I sighed, my irritation at Grey fading as it was replaced with another, darker emotion, and I met his curious eyes. “He hasn’t netted me in the last few weeks, and I’m nervous for him.”

  I had thought about him a lot the past few weeks, even tried to net him a few times, but he kept ignoring incoming transmissions. I was worried about him, worried about what he had told me, and hoping that he wasn’t digging into info
rmation that was going to get him killed.

  “He’s not a Knight?”

  I shook my head, a sad smile slipping over my lips. “No, he transferred to the first department he could.” I changed the truth some, because I wanted to keep Alex’s position as an Eye a secret. I didn’t like doing it, but there was no telling how Grey would react to that bit of information.

  Luckily, he didn’t push for details, and I relaxed a little, allowing the exchange to flow more naturally. It was nice... and needed. I hadn’t been able to let my guard down with anyone for fear of getting caught, but he knew all of my crimes already, and he was complicit. I could speak a bit more freely in front of him, without having to worry about someone chiding me for not being a better slave to the Tower. Or worse.

  “Okay, so your brother, my personal hero, Zoe, and... your parents?”

  My smile dropped almost immediately, and I let out a dry chuckle. “No, my parents were born to serve Scipio. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were artificially constructed in his image.”

  Grey grunted, and I looked over at him to see him running a hand through his hair. “Sounds just like my parents. Oh, God, please don’t tell me you’re my sister or something.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it, but the joke was so sudden, his face so theatrically horrified. We laughed together, but all too soon it dwindled down, until we were looking at each other and smiling. I looked away first, my heart starting to flop around wildly, and we moved a few more steps down the hall before he spoke again.

  “So, anyone else?”

  “What?” I asked, confused. It took me a moment to recall the thread of our conversation. “Oh. Well, we couldn’t leave without Eric.”

  “Eric?” A pause. “Is he... your boyfriend?”