The Gender Game 5: The Gender Fall

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The Gender Game 5: The Gender Fall Page 15

by Bella Forrest


  Margot gave me a knowing smile. “Yeah, he would have, too, ‘cept Cad wouldn’t tell him he was interested until I agreed. That’s when I started realizing he was sincere.”

  Cad blushed and beamed at the same time. “What could I say? I was into women’s rights before it was popular.”

  Margot snorted and put her hand on her hip. “Oh, really? Does that mean you’ll do the dishes after dinner tonight?”

  “I’d be happy to do the dishes,” Cad replied without missing a beat. “You have only to ask.”

  Margot glowed, and I was struck by how well they blended together, complementing each other almost effortlessly. Both gave as good as they got, a mixture of teasing and solemnity that seemed breathtakingly sweet. It made me wonder whether this was how Viggo and I appeared to the world. I kind of hoped so.

  “Cad, Margot, Henry, and Alice, I’d like you to meet Viggo Croft,” I said, taking advantage of the momentary pause in Margot’s chatter. “He’s my fiancé.”

  Cad cocked his head in surprise, looking Viggo over, while Margot beamed at me. “Well, he’s certainly a looker,” she said, boldly eyeing him.

  Viggo coughed, his cheeks reddening at her brazen comment, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

  “We’ve met,” Cad announced blithely, impervious to his wife’s forward behavior. “Although I didn’t know you two were engaged…”

  Shaking his hand, Viggo shrugged. “It didn’t seem like the best time to formally introduce myself,” he replied, and Cad chuckled, nodding his head in agreement.

  “Yeah, probably not.”

  The three of them continued to chat, which was good—I was less apprehensive than earlier, but I still wasn’t feeling at my best, conversationally speaking. I kept one ear on the conversation between the adults, but focused on Henry and Alice. Dropping down into a squat took a little bit of effort, but I managed, grateful my legs hadn’t been damaged along with the rest of me. Margot, aware of what I was doing, immediately sat Henry down next to his sister, and I shot her a smile before giving the two children my full attention.

  The little ones stared at me, and I could sense their nervousness. After a moment, I slowly puckered my lips like a fish, then stuck out my tongue. I waited for some response—then Samuel, noticing that I was at his level, came snuffling over and tried to kiss my face. “Oop,” I said, pushing away the wet, sloppy dog; by the time I managed to calm him down, I saw that Alice was smiling shyly.

  “Ew,” she said to the dog. “Bad Sammy!” I laughed a little. Meanwhile, Henry had come closer and reached out his hand to touch my face.

  I let his fingers stroke lightly over the bruises, tracing them. “Are you a Valkyrie?” he whispered after a second.

  “What an interesting question,” I replied, stifling my embarrassment. “Why do you ask?”

  “Mama says Valkyries are women who save people,” Alice replied, her voice whisper-thin. “Mama says you saved us.”

  “Well, do you think I’m a Valkyrie?”

  “No,” replied Henry, almost belligerently. “Mama says Valkyries ride horses and hold fiery swords. But you don’t have any.”

  “That’s very true. You’re really smart, aren’t you?”

  Henry nodded and puffed his chest out proudly. “I got the best scores in letters and spelling,” he proclaimed.

  I smiled. “My brother is good at math. Are you?”

  Henry shook his head, but Alice perked up. “I am! Do you want to hear me do multiplication?”

  “You can multiply?” I asked, filling my voice with awe.

  She nodded, her eyes glowing. “Dad taught me. I can do nines! I know a trick!”

  “Really? Can you teach me?”

  Biting her lip, she nodded, and began to show me the trick using her fingers, peeking slyly up at me every so often as though to check whether I was baffled. I figured out the trick by nine times two, but let her continue anyway, looking properly excited. Henry, seemingly bothered by being ignored, stepped closer and opened his arms. I immediately settled back down into a seated position, glad for the opportunity to relax from my crouch, and he climbed into my lap while we watched his sister.

  We were at nine times six when Cad squatted down. “All right, kiddos—it’s time to go. Tell Violet goodbye.”

  A surge of pleasure washed over me at their plaintive protests. “It’s all right, guys. I have to go anyway. But we’ll see each other again soon—I promise.”

  The two children immediately held up their pinkies, and I grinned, recognizing the gesture. It was awkward with my left hand, but I held it out, pinky extended. Alice wrapped her pinky around mine, and Henry followed.

  “Okay, ankle-biters,” Cad said. “Let’s go. C’mon, Samuel, I guess we’d better get you back too.”

  I watched as he took his children’s small hands and began heading down the hill. Margot and Viggo helped me up, and Margot gave me a soft yet warm hug. “Thank you,” she said against my shoulder. “Thank you so much for coming for us. We will never forget it, and you are always welcome with us, whenever you need anything.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered back, holding her close for a moment longer before releasing her.

  She nodded, raising a hand to Viggo before following Cad and their children down the hill. I watched them go, and then turned to Viggo, prepared to let him know I was ready to go back in, when the contemplative look on his face made me pause.

  “What?” I asked, looking down at my arms and legs as though they were somehow accountable for the warmth in his expression.

  “Nothing,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s just… you seem really good with kids.”

  Slightly dazed by his words, I immediately deflected. “Yeah, well, at the rate we’re going, this will be a kid-free zone until you put a ring on my finger.”

  “Hmmm…” Viggo said, his green eyes growing even more thoughtful. “Noted.”

  I chuckled and slipped my arm through his as we got up and made our way down the gently sloping hill. As we walked, I couldn’t help imagining holding a small boy with Viggo’s eyes in my arms, nestling him close to my chest. Blinking at the unaccustomed thoughts of a future I wasn’t sure would ever happen, I decided I didn’t quite hate the idea. In fact, it filled me with a thrill of excitement.

  Smiling, I rested my head against Viggo’s arm and allowed him to lead me.

  19

  Viggo

  Violet and I were halfway to the house when the sound of my name being shouted loudly from the other side of the yard made me pause. I turned slightly, craning my neck toward the sound, and saw Thomas rushing over, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright with excitement.

  “Viggo!” he repeated, closing the distance rapidly.

  “Hey, Thomas,” I greeted. “What’s up?”

  He came to a stop before us, his breathing coming in short pants. I exchanged looks with Violet, who shrugged, and turned back to him, curious. He gave a few racking coughs, a definite sign he was not comfortable with running, and then seemed to catch his breath.

  “Do you remember those cases we hauled from Ashabee’s? The ones we didn’t recognize?”

  I racked my mind for the memory of a previous conversation about it, but came up short. If we had, it had slipped my notice, either due to exhaustion, my preoccupation with Violet, or just too much going on to retain everything. “Not really. But I take it you figured it out.”

  Thomas nodded, his breathing still labored. “I did! They’re drones,” he proclaimed with a broad smile. I frowned at the unfamiliar word and looked over at Violet, who was wearing a similar confused expression. Thomas looked back and forth between us, his smile slowly slipping away, to be replaced by an incredulous quirk of his head. “Drones,” he repeated.

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry—last I heard that term, it was for mindless worker bees in a hive. So unless you’re saying the boxes contain beehives, I have no idea.”

  “Don’t be obtuse,” Thomas grumbled
, and then flinched when I gave him a stern look. “Sorry,” he amended. “Was there a better way to say that? Social protocols sometimes elude me. Maybe… don’t be stupid?”

  I didn’t reply, torn between rolling my eyes and laughing, but Violet grinned at Thomas. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “However, the word you’re using is actually unfamiliar to us, so can you please explain what a drone is?”

  Thomas nodded in excitement. “A drone is a machine capable of flight that can be piloted remotely. It has cameras on it with night vision and thermal scan settings! Do you understand what that means?!”

  I considered what he was saying, and then smiled. “It means you have a way of checking out the camp before Owen and I even enter.”

  “Exactly!” he exclaimed. “It is the perfect spy tool! And there are three of them!”

  Opening my mouth to respond, I paused when I heard the loud sound of Violet’s stomach growling obnoxiously. She had the good grace to blush. “Hold that thought, Thomas,” I said. “We should get Violet fed.”

  She grinned up at me, leaning on my arm as we made our way into the house, Thomas hot on our heels. I got her settled in a chair at the dining room table, and then moved to the kitchen, where the ever-present pot of soup—this one containing rice—was sitting just short of the hearth, hung from a hook that could be pushed closer to the fire to cook. I ladled her a bowl, noticing Thomas was waiting impatiently, shifting his weight from one side to the other. Once I had set Violet up to my satisfaction (and her dutiful amusement), I sat down, motioning for Thomas to join us.

  Violet sipped at her soup while I turned to Thomas. “So, this drone thing—you’re saying we can use it tonight?”

  “Of course! In fact, it’ll be perfect for helping you sneak around. Using it, I can monitor guard movement and guide you remotely on the subvocalizers.”

  “Will it work from that distance, or will you have to be close?”

  “I checked the radio transmitter that controls it—it will work at that range. Its configuration is quite interesting. It seems Ashabee based the transmitter design off the ones used for the subvocalizers, but it’s far more sophisticated. I looked at the code, and it is amazing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. You see, it operates at a—”

  “Thomas,” Violet interrupted gently, her spoon halfway between the bowl and her mouth. “Can anyone fly the drone, or do they need piloting experience?”

  That was a good question. I turned to the small man and waited for him to respond.

  “Oh, no, the controls are quite simple. Anyone could pilot it.”

  “I see. And does it require two hands, or one?”

  Understanding struck me, and I turned to Violet, watching as she delicately sipped her soup, the corners of her lips turning upward in a hopeful smile. Bemused by her cleverness, I sat back, watching the scene play out.

  “Oh, just the one, really. It’s very user-friendly.”

  Violet set her spoon down with a clink. “Excellent,” she replied, leaning forward and catching my eye. “So I can pilot it.”

  Her words confirmed my supposition, and I hid my smile, waiting to see how Thomas would react.

  “What?! But I wanted to… I mean… I realized what it was, so I should be able to fly it!” His voice was petulant with a bit of whining thrown in, and I realized I would need to step in before things got anywhere remotely near heated. Not that I was worried about Violet—she was watching Thomas with a bemused expression. No, Thomas was more prone to missing social cues, so better to help convince him than let him feel like he was being left out.

  “Actually, that might be a good idea,” I interjected. Thomas gave me an appalled look, his eyes wide. “Thomas, we’re going to need your tactical mind focused on the bigger picture,” I added before his ego could get too crushed. “Besides, you can’t pilot and hack their computers—if they have any—at once. Not to mention, you’re one of our best strategists. We need you overseeing the entire operation with Ms. Dale.”

  Thomas considered my words and then nodded, mollified. “You’re right, and I’m sure Violet is feeling useless, so that will be helpful for her. I’ll go get one ready for her to practice on.”

  He stood up and walked out, and I looked over at Violet. She blinked, as if clearing her head from a strong left hook. “He’s not wrong,” she said dryly. “I would like to not feel useless.”

  I smiled at her, shaking my head. “You’re not useless, baby. Besides, even if you weren’t injured, having a remote operative without the risk is really a good idea. I think I might go a bit crazy with just Thomas and Ms. Dale in my ears.”

  She chuckled, her gray eyes sparkling. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she chided. “And this time… I am totally okay with that.”

  “Well, maybe a little bit,” I admitted. “But honestly, it is a good idea for many reasons, the main one being that I trust you and your judgment. I like Thomas, but he’s often a little too clinical for my comfort. Ms. Dale is mission-oriented, which is a bonus, but sometimes she overlooks the emotional aspect of things in the name of the mission. I trust you to be their counterpoint.”

  She gave me a doubtful look. “I think you might be building me up a bit there, but since you’re not arguing with me, I’m going to take it.”

  “Look, I think this is a perfect solution—you won’t be in the field, but you also won’t be sitting around worrying about me. You’ll be involved. I want you to be involved.”

  As I spoke, her doubtful look melted. “Now, that was better, but seriously, you don’t have to keep convincing me you’re okay with it. I believe you.”

  I blew out a breath. “Sorry, am I going overboard? I just… I can’t fully imagine what you’re going through.”

  She frowned and stirred her spoon through her soup a few times. Then she set it down on the table with a click and pushed the bowl away. “I’m worried half the time, frustrated the other half, and so much of my body is still sore all the time. If I’m being honest, our walk took more out of me than I care to admit, and I just… I don’t like feeling helpless.” She met my gaze with a small smile. “I guess what I’m saying is, thanks for not fighting me on this. Even when you don’t fully understand what I’m going through, you’re still able to give me exactly what I need.”

  I reached out and took her left hand, rubbing the tips of her fingers with my own, then kissing them. We stared at each other, and I felt a surge of love for her that seemed to flood out of my chest and into every part of me, making me feel stronger, calmer, more whole. Even after everything that had happened, we were still standing, still together, and—best of all—still partners. It was reassuring that even when we were at our weakest, we each had the other to back us up.

  “I love you,” I told her, a surge of male pride running through me as her eyes lit up and her lips curled into a full-bodied smile.

  “I love you, too,” she said back, running her thumb over my own. I stared at her, a smile on my own lips, and for a moment, the world and all our problems dropped away, leaving only us, together, in that moment, rooted to each other like two trees in a forest.

  Sighing at the knowledge there wasn’t enough time to just be with each other, I released Violet’s hand and stood up, moving to a small table by the couch that was stacked with papers and notes. I pushed through the various files, picking up the one with the photos of the worker camp the scouts had come back with. I held them up as I walked back, and dropped into my seat.

  “Here,” I said, placing the file in front of her. “These are the pictures we got from the scouts. They did the best they could under the circumstances, but it doesn’t show much other than the structures and some of the configuration.”

  She nodded, flipping open the folder and looking at the grainy, faraway pictures. I had already studied them this morning. The camp was set in a large meadow, bordered on one side by forest, leading to another empty meadow on the other. A mountain range loomed in the backg
round, near enough to block out almost all the sky. To all appearances, it was out in the middle of nowhere; the rutted tracks that led to it seemed to have been made specifically for coming to this camp, since there was still brush and weeds growing in between the tire tracks. The structure itself was a tall barbed-wire fence with rows and rows of tents inside surrounding four rectangular structures that resembled the massive trailers I’d often seen used to haul food. They had windows, but the scouts hadn’t been able to risk getting closer, and at the distance from which the photos were taken, they only appeared as opaque squares.

  Violet grimaced at the graininess. “What’s the exact goal for the mission?” she asked as she slid the glossy photos around, lining them up on the table in various positions.

  “Well, information gathering, to be honest. We know for sure they are sending the men they’ve been collecting from the city there, under the guise of training them with new skillsets, but most likely for execution. Of course, we want to be able to find out what the true purpose of the camp is. But beyond that, we’re gambling that they have a computer there. If Thomas can hack into it remotely…”

  “Then we can figure out where Elena’s forces are, what orders they’re being given, and maybe…” She met my eyes, and I saw the small spark of hope there. “Maybe find out where Tim is.”

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  She swallowed hard. “All right,” she said. “Take me though your plan.”

  Hours later, Owen and I had finished loading the crate that held the drone into the back of our vehicle. Violet stood at the foot of the porch, her left hand on her hip. The crate was heavy, but not impossible for two men to lift.

  The sun had set, and even the light of dusk was fading. It was time. I shut the door and turned to Violet. She quirked up the corners of her lips encouragingly, but I could see the longing in her eyes. “You okay with this?” I asked.

  Her smile became a bit less strained. “I have to be,” she admitted ruefully. “I just… I wish I was going with you.”

 

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