The Girl Who Dared to Endure

by Bella Forrest

  We emerged from the elevator a few minutes later and returned to the main harvesting area, moving through the chaffing machines to the fields beyond, now intent on finding the head of the Hands, Emmanuel Plancett. We knew he was somewhere on the floor, monitoring the harvest, but to find out where exactly, I had to put a call in to Jasper so he could use Cornelius’s link to central command to locate his net through the sensors.

  We made our way through the paths cut in the long, tall stalks of wheat, staying strictly there to avoid getting picked up by one of the machines as they made their way across the floor. Dust filled the air as the large harvesters worked at pulling the wheat from the ground, making the men and machines shadows against the light above.

  I cupped my hand over my mouth as we moved toward one large shadow. Harvester Four was apparently down, according to Cornelius’s report, and Plancett and two of his men were there working on it. It was easy to see which one it was, as the others had continued their line of advance, eating up dozens of feet of vegetation at a time and leaving behind neat, mowed-down areas. I waited until we had passed one of the noisy machines before stepping off the path and stalking across the uneven ground toward the tall shadows of wheat barely visible in the dust. I paused when those stalks stopped being shadows, and then followed the line of them back, heading for the long dark shadow of the harvester some forty feet ahead.

  I came to a full stop at the corner, using the vegetation for cover. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to approach this, but waiting and watching seemed like a good start. We needed DNA from him, but getting it without cluing him in was going to be harder than it had been with Dreyfuss. If we could do it without being seen, that would be ideal, but if I had to come up with a reason to draw him into conversation, I would.

  Plancett was some fifty feet away, his back to the crops. He was on one knee with a wrench the size of my forearm in one hand, slowly rotating a bolt on the black machine. The muscles of his biceps flexed, and he grunted loudly as he detached the wrench, reoriented it, and connected it again. I could barely see one of his assistants, working at the opposite end of the bulky machine, but could tell from the way he kept turning to one side that the other one was next to him.

  Though it was evening, the lights above were still on the daytime setting, making the room as warm as it would be during the day. And as I watched, Plancett reached into the back pocket of his coveralls and produced a handkerchief to mop at the sweat that was accumulating on his brow and neck. A moment later, he tucked it back away.

  As soon as he made the motion, I zeroed in on it and smiled, slowly withdrawing behind the crops and turning to the other two. “He’s got a handkerchief,” I told them. “Back left pocket. He’s been using it to dry his sweat.”

  “That’s perfect,” Dylan said, her eyes gleaming. “I’ll go get it.”

  “What?” I said. “No, it should be me.”

  Dylan smirked. “No, it should be me. You said these guys know that you’re an enemy. If he turns around and sees you stealing it, he’s going to know something’s up. If it’s me, I might be able to play it off.”

  I hesitated. She made a really good point. Dammit. “All right. But be careful.”

  She nodded, and then began creeping down the gap in the wheat, turning sideways to keep from rustling too many of the leaves as she went. I held my breath while she walked away, discomforted by the fact that we had just finished bringing her up to speed on everything except for Scipio and the fragments, and now I was letting her turn around and risk getting caught by someone we knew was one of Sadie’s allies.

  I watched her for as long as I could before she disappeared behind the vegetation, and then slid out past Maddox, to see what Plancett was up to. He was standing now, both arms lifted high over his head as he stretched his lower back. The handkerchief—blue-and-white microfiber—hung like a beacon from his back pocket, scant inches way from a stalk of wheat.

  He emitted a long groan, and then bent over to start gathering up his tools. I realized then that he was done, and that any second he would be moving out of there. Which meant that any second after that, the harvester would come back on—and Dylan could be sucked right into the machine.

  My fingers twitched at the thought and I lifted up my arm, about to call to Dylan to forget the whole thing, when I saw a crimson-clad arm shoot out of the vegetation, grab the blue-and-white corner dangling from Plancett’s pocket, and lift it straight out. I stood stock still, waiting for Plancett to notice, but he continued to gather his tools and toss them into a heavy black bag, oblivious.

  A few moments later I heard the rustle of leaves that signaled Dylan’s return, the handkerchief gripped tightly in her hand.

  “Here,” Maddox whispered, looking over her shoulder before holding up a specimen bag. Dylan dropped the handkerchief inside, and Maddox quickly sealed it up and tucked it into her pocket. “Two down, one to go,” she whispered, patting her pocket.

  I nodded and waved at them both to follow me back into the dust cloud, wanting to hurry away before Plancett finished his packing and noticed us. We couldn’t afford anyone noticing us close to him as it could alert the legacies that we potentially knew they were working with him. I wouldn’t feel safe until I was off this floor and back in the Citadel.

  31

  “Well, that went better than I thought it would,” Dylan commented as we exited the large greenery.

  I glanced at the tall blond woman, and found her confidence irritating. All I could think about were the dozens of ways we could’ve been caught—might’ve already been noticed. If any of the Hands had seen us lurking around Plancett and reported it to him, or if Dreyfuss didn’t buy our flimsy cover story, we might have just lost any chance we had of catching Sadie’s partner.

  A part of me wished I could just arrest them all and figure it out afterward, but if I was right and we made a move, the legacies would know, and retaliate. We had to take them all at once, but even if we identified who the father was, we still couldn’t account for where the undoc arm of their cell was. Finding them came next, and another chat with Liam might help—but then again, it might not. My stomach twisted into knots as I thought about what would happen if we messed up this chance. If they disappeared before we could corner them…

  I looked away from Dylan, despair threatening to overwhelm me.

  No, I told myself firmly. I’m not giving in to what ifs. This is the best plan available to us right now. Figure out who the father of all the undocs is, then figure out where the undocs themselves are. Liam might tell us, and if he doesn’t, we can put eyes on whoever the father is and follow him until he leads us there. It might take longer than the week we had, but I wouldn’t be leaving anyway, so I just had to make sure I surrounded myself with trustworthy Knight Commanders before the others left. That way I could finish the mission without them.

  “Liana?”

  I glanced to my right, where Maddox was walking next to me, and realized I had missed whatever they were talking about. “Sorry, I was thinking. What’s up?”

  “Did Sage get back to you with a meeting time?” she asked, and I blinked, reality rushing right back in.

  “Oh, one second.” I angled for an area free from people and made my way to it, slipping between throngs of workers and families walking away from Biggins. I grabbed my pad from the front pocket of my uniform, quickly tapped it on, and pulled up my messages. There was one waiting from Sage, and I tapped on it impatiently. It was shorter than I had hoped, just, Sure thing! Tomorrow morning after eight is best for me. See you then. Sage.

  Disappointment rippled through me at the delay in meeting him, but there was ultimately nothing I could do. If I pushed for something tonight, it would undoubtedly arouse his suspicions, and without a valid reason to force the issue, he could and might refuse. Worse, if he was a legacy and had already been told to watch out for me, then any suspicious moves on my part would clue him in to the fact that something was wrong. We had to wai
t.

  “Tomorrow,” I said, shutting off the pad and shoving it back into my pocket.

  Maddox rolled her eyes, and Dylan sighed heavily. “What do we do until then?” Dylan asked, and I considered her question. There wasn’t much to do but more research, and as we hadn’t told Dylan about the fragments, I wasn’t about to let her join in on that. I didn’t trust anyone beyond my group with that information; it was too dangerous.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t continue to work on this in her own way.

  “I want you and a Knight you trust to follow Plancett and Dreyfuss. Give the Knight’s name to Maddox so we can clear him or her and get a DNA profile to make sure whoever you choose isn’t related to the legacies in any way. Don’t tell them what this is about. Just tell them to use plain clothes and be discreet. Pursue, but don’t interfere, and if the subject you are following disappears, don’t bother trying to find him. Just mark down where you lost him and reset in the best position for finding him again. If they disappear completely, I expect they’ll be going to see the undocs, which will mean that position will probably be close to where they are hiding. It is critical that neither of you follows them too closely; if you’re seen, they will disappear, and we might not be able to find them again.”

  Dylan blinked several times and then shook her head, as if clearing it from a punch. “Right,” she said, surprise radiating in her voice. “So, that was really specific.” She cleared her throat and hesitated, and I felt a little bad. We had just clued her in to our problems, and I had just laid out a whole heap of orders that spoke to how paranoid I was about this.

  “I know a kid,” she said after a moment. “He’s fresh out of the Academy, but he used to be a bit of a pickpocket in the markets before he reformed his ways. He’s good. I’ll have him checked out, but this is a big operation for just two people. We’re going to need more.”

  I took a deep breath. She was right, of course, but I didn’t like it. More people involved meant a higher possibility of word getting out. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We can’t afford any word of this getting out.”

  “But if we clear their DNA, that should prove they aren’t involved, right?”

  “Maybe, but the legacies could’ve corrupted them in other ways. We know they hand out extra ration cards to Plancett—why wouldn’t they use that for other things as well? Who wouldn’t turn their head for a week’s worth of rations?” Maddox asked the questions before I could even get there mentally, but they were all valid points.

  The ration cards gave me pause, though, as I suddenly realized that Sage—not Plancett—was the only one in the Tower with the authority to issue ration cards, based on an individual’s nutritional needs at their biannual physical. And I knew that he offered them to anyone who could bring him pre-End medical journals.

  Maybe I was wrong about Sage—maybe he was involved. The DNA test would certainly help determine it, but the ration card thing was concerning.

  Not to mention, he was the only authority on pre-End medical procedures, thanks to his obsession with collecting medical journals from that era. And we were almost certain the legacies were avoiding detection by using plastic surgery to change their facial structures. Could he be performing them? It was possible. Come to think of it, the Medica was also the only department responsible for uploading DNA profiles to the servers.

  If legacies were hiding in plain sight, courtesy of faked DNA profiles, Sage was the most likely to be helping them.

  A chill ran through me as I once again considered how I might have misjudged the man. More and more signs were pointing to him, and though I knew I should be impartial, my mind was already spinning out counterpoints. There were legacies embedded in his department, and I had to imagine they had some medical training, which meant they might also be the ones performing the plastic surgery. Not to mention, the journals we found in the Attic numbered in the hundreds and weren’t being cared for in the best way—something I knew for a fact drove Sage insane.

  And it was just as possible that Sadie was responsible for faking the DNA profiles in the server. IT had its hooks in everything. And the ration cards, as well! After all, they were scanned into a system that IT controlled, so I couldn’t imagine it would be difficult for her. And it would be a clever move on her part, as it would be easy to shift blame to the Medica if anyone discovered illegal ration cards or found a discrepancy in the DNA profiles. Those were Sage’s jurisdiction, and ultimately, he would be the one held responsible. I thought about his words the other day in the Medica, about him doubting his own ability to lead, and remembered thinking then that maybe the legacies were targeting him for removal. Maybe I had been right, and this was how they were planning to do it. By setting him up.

  I sighed and pressed my hand to my head, trying to figure out whether I was coming up with these ideas to defend him because I liked him, or whether it was an actual possibility. The legacies didn’t think in a straightforward fashion; they always came at us sideways. And that meant I couldn’t put anything past them.

  Scipio help me, I was going to be so happy when I could stop thinking myself into knots. Ultimately, I would have to withhold any judgment until we had all three men’s DNA tested. Still, I hoped Sage was innocent. I liked the old man.

  “I wouldn’t take ration cards, not for anything,” Dylan declared, crossing her arms over her chest. “And any Knight who does is a traitor.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s a little extreme, Dylan,” I said. “Besides, Maddox is right—we can’t trust anyone at this point. I will go up to my quarters and find someone from my inner circle to help you watch Plancett and Dreyfuss tonight, and then we’ll figure something out tomorrow. Maybe by then we’ll have uncovered a list of all the other people Sadie might have paid off, and finally have a way to start trusting our people.”

  Dylan’s mouth pressed into a line, but she nodded once. “I’ll wait for them here. Hopefully no one will leave before someone gets here.”

  “You won’t be alone,” I said. “Maddox will wait with you until someone can come and replace her.”

  “What about you?” Maddox asked, her brows drawing together in alarm. “You know you shouldn’t be walking alone through the halls. If we’re being followed…”

  “Then they are super worried about how close we came to one of their people,” I interjected. “Either way, we can’t afford to let Dreyfuss or Plancett out of our sight now that we suspect them, because there’s a chance they can lead us to the undocs’ hiding place. It’s just a short ride down on a very public elevator, and a quick walk across a heavily trafficked bridge. I’ll be fine.”

  “Or you could net Zoe, tell her to send someone down, and then we leave together,” she insisted, and I sighed.

  I had wanted to get away from both of them, to be honest, because I was hoping to sneak off to call my brother. But thanks to Baldy cutting my throat just one measly time, they had instituted a firm rule that they followed to the letter: I never went anywhere by myself, and especially not first.

  “I can handle it on my own for a while, guys,” Dylan added, and I narrowed my eyes at her unhelpfulness. “Plancett isn’t likely to leave until the harvest is finished, and Dreyfuss isn’t scheduled to work. I think I’ll be all right for an hour. I’ll just sit down for some dinner at one of the stalls.”

  I didn’t like the idea of leaving Dylan alone, because I still wasn’t entirely sure I could trust her, but I relented, eager to just get moving. “Fine,” I said. “Be careful, and don’t let anyone see you.”

  She smiled crookedly. “I will be like a ghost in the night,” she assured me, already pulling her short bob into a high ponytail on her head. That simple move did a lot to change her appearance, but she went even further, pulling a microfiber cloth out and carefully wiping off some of the makeup she had been wearing. In a few moments, her face had transformed to a slightly less beautiful version of itself, and without her hair around her face, I wouldn’t have recogni
zed her on the first or even the second glance.

  I gave a slow nod of approval as she looked at us both expectantly, smiled, offered me a two-fingered salute, and said, “Wish me luck,” before disappearing into the crowd of people moving steadily by us.

  I snorted under my breath. “She asks for luck, when what we really need is a miracle.”

  Beside me, Maddox chuckled. “True story. Let’s get out of here. I don’t want her to be by herself for any longer than necessary.”

  I agreed, and followed her into the sea of people.

  We were in the elevator when Maddox finally asked, “So why did you want to go up alone?”

  My mouth pressed into a thin line before I could stop it, and Maddox’s gaze dropped to it, a satisfied smile growing on her lips. “I was right, then. You wanted to be alone. Why?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. There was no point in lying to her. “I want to call my brother.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and she frowned. “You don’t have to be alone for that,” she pointed out.

  I licked my lips. She was right. I didn’t have to be, but I wanted to be. Maybe it was selfish; I was sure the others wanted to hear all about Patrus, but I didn’t care. They could talk to him another night. I’d spent the entire day trying not to think about him, about Patrus, about how everything was about to change—and now that the action was over, all I wanted to do was talk about it. Zoe was the only one who knew that I was planning to leave. Everyone else still thought I would be going with them. Leo and I were in a strange place, and Grey needed to fully remember who he was before he made the decision to leave. I didn’t want to influence him on that front. And that didn’t leave anyone else to talk to except Alex.

  “I know,” I replied. “But I wanted to.”

  Maddox sucked in a breath and then sighed. “I understand,” she said. “Everything that happened yesterday was such chaos that neither of you had time to process what you went through. Besides, I can only imagine how anxious you must be to make sure he made it all right.”