Fallen Firsts (Rebel Thirds Book 3)

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Fallen Firsts (Rebel Thirds Book 3) Page 9

by Jillian Torassa


  The coarse borax left my skin tingling and raw, but it was better than nothing. Jumping back onto the ground, shivering slightly, I went to work on my clothes. Once they were reasonably clean, I tried to ring out the water, though I was largely unsuccessful. As soon as I could, I would steal another outfit—one that would help me blend in better—but there wouldn’t be anything for me to pinch in the empty locker rooms now.

  Wrapped in the damp fabric, I slipped my shoes back on and tried to keep my teeth from chattering. I needed to keep my blood circulating, so I ran my fingers through my wet, tangled hair, as I ventured into the next room. It was the supervisor’s office. The first thing I spotted was a pair of scissors on the tidy desk, and I bolted for them.

  The salty sea breeze played with the end of my braid, and as it whipped up into my face, I resolved to chop it all off as soon as I got the chance. It was a tie to the past; it would give me away; it was an unwelcome reminder of where I came from—who I came from.

  Turning to the cloudy mirror that hung on the wall, my heart rate quickened. Though it was dark, and the reflection was milky, I could still make out my face: my cheeks were sunken and there were dark shadows under my eyes; my lips were cracked and dry, and there appeared to be a dark bruise on the side of my chin. I looked less like him than I did when I was well-rested, decently fed, and not constantly terrified for my life, but it was time to cut ties.

  I seized a handful of hair and chopped.

  Chapter Nine

  Victor

  I never thought it would be so uncomfortable to watch them torture Gideon.

  But they needed to extract as much information as possible before his public execution, and that event was quickly approaching.

  “He’s had enough for today,” Dr. French, my direct supervisor and Liminis’ head Doctor, called through the microphone, and the screams and sizzles that came from the other room quickly stopped. “Satisfied, Dr. Doe?”

  I had to wrench my eyes away from the black and white monitor where the image of Gideon’s limp body still covered the screen. “I suppose so. For today.”

  She nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets. “I’m sure your accusations have merit, Victor, but we need to have a confession on record before I can allow you to be the one to perform the execution.”

  “I understand.” I glanced at the TV again before following her out of the small observation room and into the pristinely white hallway. They were keeping him in the clinic now, rather than the jail, because they had better equipment here. Since the physical torture had not worked the last time he had been questioned, they had moved on to chemical, and the commute from one side of town to the other just added unnecessary security risks. Better to just hold him where they needed him.

  “It seems as though you’ve had a particularly hard time the last couple of weeks.” She was a short, fat woman (with stylishly cropped brown hair and yellow-green eyes) who I would have thought beautiful if she weren’t so severe.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, sticking my own hands into my pockets.

  “That’s a shame. Perhaps you should take the evening off.”

  I would never let the surprise register on my face. “Sir?”

  She stopped abruptly and turned to look at me, folding her arms tightly over her chest. “All of my Doctors have been under a lot of strain since Liminis went under lockdown. You know—you’ve had to do extra duties, too. Hopefully, this madness will soon come to an end, but fatigue leads to carelessness. Do not mistake my suggestion as kindness.”

  My stomach twisted a little; I couldn’t afford to fall out of her good graces.

  “I know about your visit to headquarters.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to keep my heart rate down. That was the only way to keep my cheeks from burning.

  “I know about the rebel you failed to save.”

  The sigh had to escape my nose, imperceptible to her.

  “And you’ve made more mistakes in the last few days than you’ve made in total since you joined our ranks.”

  Though I knew my body didn’t betray me, a storm swirled inside. Panic. Embarrassment. Anger. Anxiety. Was it possible to be demoted again? Or would they just kill me? How closely were they watching? I needed to be more careful. I needed—

  “This isn’t a formal warning,” she interrupted my thoughts, “but I do need you to take tonight and tomorrow off, so it doesn’t have to become one. Get some rest. Turn off your brain. We will continue to work on Mr. Aarons without you.”

  If I went home, I would miss my appointment with Gideon. We had things to discuss, and Meghan would kill me if I came back without anything to report—she was nervous enough as it was. However, I couldn’t just disobey, and if my performance continued to suffer, who knows what kind of position we would be in then.

  “Yes, Dr. French,” I said steadily. “I will. Thank you.”

  Nodding again, she turned on her heel and stomped down the hall in the opposite direction, leaving me alone with the mess inside my brain.

  Blowing air through my lips, I headed toward my office, trying to decide what to do next. If I couldn’t talk to Gideon, I would have to do something else productive. But I wasn’t sure what that was yet. Meghan would know what to do, but she would be at work all afternoon, and I didn’t know if I could face her empty-handed, anyway.

  “You don’t think Galilea’s plan will be enough?” She was still being snippy with me, but at least she had cooled down enough to come over for dinner.

  Finally.

  “I don’t know that people will lose any more confidence in the Council than they already have, even if we do manage to find the video.”

  “Don’t you think that allowing them to execute Gideon, publically, will just reinforce the idea that they are in control?”

  I clenched my fists on top of the table, starting to get annoyed by her tone. “Well, that would be the idea, wouldn’t it?”

  She raised her eyebrows at me.

  “We’re double agents, Meghan,” I growled, dangerously close to losing my temper. I still didn’t know what I did wrong. “We can’t forget that. You know Dr. Snyder caught me in the records room. We need to do something to re-cement their confidence in me, so they don’t get suspicious.”

  “We?”

  “We’re still in this together, aren’t we?”

  “I’m not the one who got caught.”

  Annoyed all over again, I unlocked the door to my office and stepped inside.

  “Dr. Doe, is it?”

  My heart stopped, and I almost forgot to mask my shock.

  “How did you get in here?” I snapped, staring suspiciously over my shoulder into the hall behind me. “Did Paul let you in?”

  “Who’s Paul?” The intruder stood, laughing a twinkly laugh as she did so. “He sounds sexy.” Her voice was silky, almost like a purr, and I was disturbed to find that my defenses were lowering subconsciously.

  “Paul is my desk mate,” I said irritably, hoping to bring back the mistrust that could potentially save my life. “Who are you?”

  She smiled, revealing a set of dazzling white teeth and a subtle dimple. “My name is Doctor MacLeod.”

  The name pricked my memory, and I cast around, searching for the familiarity. “MacLeod . . .” I said out loud. “MacLeod. I’ve heard of you before.”

  “Of course you have. Can we talk?”

  My hand was frozen on the door knob. She was small and dainty with shiny, wispy brown hair that reminded me of a spider web. Her large green eyes were periodically shrouded by dark eyelashes as she blinked slowly at me, and I could have sworn she filled my office with the smell of roses. Though I had no idea who she was, I felt oddly serene in her presence.

  And I hated it.

  “Come now, Victor,” she said in her impossibly floaty voice. “Galilea told me you were kinder than this.”

  I shook my head, stepped quickly over the threshold, and slammed the door behind me. “How do you know my name
? How do you know Galilea? Why are you here?” I said all this very fast, casting around frantically for the control I normally had in situations like this.

  She laughed again. “Oh, I’m about to explain that to you.” Rising, she crossed the room and put her hand on my arm.

  My stomach did a back flip.

  “But first, I need to know when Paul will be back.” She said this slowly, her striking eyes widening.

  This woman was Mata MacCleod. The spy who was responsible for the bombing of the Erroris Factory. It was because of her that the rebellion had been smashed—because of her, hundreds had been murdered.

  I suddenly felt dirty under her touch and shrugged her off my arm. “I don’t know. But I always have people coming and going.”

  Her pink lips curved in a small smile as she turned and floated back toward my desk. She sat lightly on the edge, crossing her smooth white legs at the knee and leaning forward slightly.

  My face started to feel hot as I stared hard at her eyes; her shirt was awfully low-cut.

  “I see,” she said sweetly with a tilt of her head. “So, when can we . . . talk?”

  Closing my eyes helped me think more clearly. She knew Galilea, and she knew that I was somehow connected to her. Maybe that was all she knew, maybe it wasn’t. Since my meeting with Gideon needed to be postponed anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to try and find out more. Maybe she had information we could use. It would have to be done delicately, though, because I had no idea what her intentions were. Whose side she was on.

  Making up my mind, I crossed to the other side of my desk, snatched open a drawer, and took out a piece of paper. “You can come to my apartment tonight,” I said, and before I could search for a pen, Mata held one under my nose.

  Her eyes glittered as she grinned at me.

  I tightened my lips but took the pen. “Thanks.” The word slipped out of my tightened mouth automatically. Annoyed, I bent my head and scribbled my address. “Come after dark. We can talk then.”

  “Ooo, like a date?”

  “My girlfriend will be there.”

  She laughed again, holding her hand out for the scrap of paper in my hand. “Whatever you say, handsome.”

  My stomach flipped again, but this time it was with nausea.

  ---

  “Victor, what are you doing here?” Galilea opened the door wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Though it was just barely past noon, she had a colorful drink in her hand, and she stepped back to let me in. “Meghan left hours ago.”

  “I know. I came to see you.” I kept my eyes straight ahead as I walked into the cozy warmth of her home.

  She closed the door and followed me into the front room. “Oh?”

  “Yes. No Factory today?” I knew Galilea was less inclined to be helpful if I didn’t humor her with a little small talk first.

  “Didn’t feel like it,” she shrugged, planting herself in the middle of her large, fluffy armchair.

  “Oh.” Now that I knew that Firsts’ lack of Knowledge wasn’t something to revere, her laziness irked me more and more each time I spoke to her. Did she know how hard Mark and Lindi had to work, all in the name of keeping Thirds from being able to wield their Knowledge? Did she know how many children suffered daily, under the harsh tutelage of Grins and the Schulemum at Wissen Schule? If she did, would she care?

  As far as I knew, she was only in this for revenge. Hell hath no fury like a glutty First woman scorned.

  “Ouch! Victor Doe coming out of the shadows with a sick, Shakespearean burn! Please, tell the cameras how you really feel.”

  I saw Michael in my head, offering me an invisible microphone, and I felt a twinge. Of guilt? Of amusement? Of regret? Why hadn’t I fixed things with him before it was too late?

  “Won’t you have a seat?” Galilea pulled me back into the present, sipping her drink as she gestured toward her couch.

  I blinked quickly, trying to focus again. “Oh, no thank you. I can’t stay long.”

  She curled her legs up under her, draping a thick blanket over her lap. “Then what can I help you with? Why aren’t you at the clinic?”

  It wasn’t even cold inside her luxurious home. The blanket over her knees could have saved the lives of at least two little Third kids that I could think of. “Dr. French sent me home.”

  “What?” Her voice suddenly turned harsh. “Why?”

  It wasn’t the first time I had experienced a jarring mood swing like this from her, but it still threw me off balance. I had never known someone so unhinged.

  “Victor, are you in trouble? Tell me the truth!” If she gripped her martini glass any tighter, it would surely shatter.

  She didn’t scare me, though. What could she do? Ignorant me to death? Besides, she needed me. “No. She gave me the day off.”

  Though she hadn’t gone to work, her face was heavily caked in make-up. Her unnaturally thick eyelashes closed half-way over her eyes as she scrutinized me, but then her scarlet lips parted in a smile. “How lovely for you,” she said with an abrupt switch to her earlier tone.

  “Yes. Lovely,” I said, stuffing my hands in my coat pockets.

  She hadn’t drawn me into a conflict, but my heart still pounded as though she had. There was nothing I hated more than confrontation, and I tried to reign in my temper in order to avoid it.

  She cleared her throat. “No new news, then?”

  I knew she was referring to the video she wanted me to find. It was the orientation film they had shown me on my first day as a Doctor—the one that explained what really happened after the End of All Things, why Knowledge was power, and why we had to pretend it wasn’t, in order to remain in charge of the Colonies.

  For their own good, of course.

  “No. Nothing new.”

  After Doctor Spencer had broken her heart (or whatever it was that made her feel emotions), she was determined to use the information he had accidently given her to both discredit and destroy him. But finding the film was proving difficult—the Doctors’ files were heavily encrypted, and neither Meghan nor I had yet been successful.

  That’s why I needed Gideon to die.

  She cleared her throat, pulling my gaze once more to her face. “Victor, if you have nothing new for me, I was hoping I could squeeze in a nap today. . .”

  I shook my head. “Of course.” Glutty lump. “I just wanted to ask you something. About Mata MacLeod.”

  She lifted her chin, widening her eyes. “Oh, so you finally met Mata!” she crooned with delight. “Lovely girl, isn’t she?”

  As lovely as being forced to take the afternoon off.

  “I know she’s been dying to meet you.”

  “That’s what I came to talk to you about. Why is she so eager to speak to me?”

  Galilea held up one long, manicured finger as she sipped her drink.

  I waited irritably, listening to the distant mumble of the TV that she had left on in her bedroom.

  “Because she wants to help, of course,” she finally replied, smacking her lips in satisfaction. “Oops! Looks like I need another drink.” Flinging the blanket off of her lap, she rose and crossed to the liquor cart. “Can I get you something, Vickie darling?”

  She only called me Vickie when she was drunk. “No, thank you,” I said impatiently. “She wants to help? And you think she’s trustworthy?”

  Ice cubs clinked into a new glass as Galilea poured herself some vodka. “Oh, let’s not talk about this. I’m far too tired.”

  She turned around with a giant yawn, and then took another sip.

  “You know, you worry too much, Vickie darling.”

  I narrowed my eyes, forcing myself to stay calm. In through the nose, out through the mouth. If anything, I wasn’t worried enough. Planning and scheming, it turned out, was hard to do when you were dumb as dirt. Or at least as dumb as Galilea.

  “Damn, Victor, what has gotten into you?”

  Michael’s voice echoed in my head again. I shook it, trying to stay focused. “Yes, well. Thank
you for your help. Please send Meghan over as soon as you can.”

  She walked down the hall without looking back, waving her free hand breezily over her shoulder. “As soon as I’ve eaten, she’s all yours.”

  Of course, only a monster could still treat Meghan like a slave, after learning that the Ten Colony Council wasn’t real and that everything we had ever been taught was a lie.

  “I like the new you,” Michael said in my head as I closed the front door and hurried away. “It’s fierce. It’s fiery. And best of all, it finally gets it.”

  ---

  “You gave her your address?” Meghan asked in disbelief as she helped me clear up dinner.

  “It’s not like she couldn’t have found it on her own.”

  “I don’t know, Victor. She’s a Doctor. She’s a spy, and she’s the reason all those people are dead. How could we possibly trust her?”

  “Why don’t we just hear what she has to say? We won’t give her anything. We’ll just listen.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but there was a soft knock on the door.

  “She’s here,” I said, my palms suddenly prickling.

  “Now?”

  Instead of responding, I crossed quickly to the door, wiping my hands on my pants. “I didn’t specify a time.”

  Mata wore a different outfit than she had in my office. It was much less reveling, but her smile was still overly bright and inviting. “Hello, handsome. Ready to talk shop?”

  When I turned to invite her in, I saw that Meghan was scowling. I shrugged, silently asking her what she wanted me to do about it, but she just looked away and sat down huffily at the kitchen table.

  “Can we sit?” Mata asked, gesturing toward the couch.

  “Of course,” I responded, not looking at Meghan as I sat next to Mata. It wasn’t my fault she had chosen to sit at the table.

  Mata pulled her legs up underneath her and sat facing me. Putting her arm on top of the couch, she rested her cheek in her hand and smiled. “So, I want to help. What can I say to get you to trust me?”

  I was taken aback by her question. It was perfectly reasonable for me to be suspicious of another Doctor while I was breaking their laws, but it seemed odd that she both accepted and admitted that out loud. Maybe that made her more trustworthy. Maybe it made her less. The problem was that she had handed me the power over the conversation, and my resolve to remain silent until she had told us everything was immediately tested. I weighed my words carefully before I spoke. “You told the Doctors where to find the rebels in Erroris.”

 

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