Contributor (Contributor Trilogy, book 1)

by Nicole Ciacchella

  Guess I'm not the only one who's unhappy about losing.

  Resigned, Dara listened stoically as Andersen pronounced Javier's design the best.

  "Thank you, sir," Javier said, his face betraying nothing of his emotions.

  "There's more to this than meets the eye," Letizia muttered as they left the room. She strode away before Dara could ask what she meant.

  The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity, leaving Dara precious little time to think about what had happened. She had to drag her tired body to the door to meet Jonathan.

  "Feel like a little walk in the park?" Jonathan asked. She almost declined due to fatigue but she noticed his eyes were dancing, telling her he had something important to share, and she didn't have the heart to disappoint him.

  "Sure," she said, hoping he wouldn't hear the reluctance in her voice.

  When they reached the park, he led her down a less popular path, one they'd taken it many times over the years because it afforded them a modicum of privacy in the midst of the crowded dome. There were few people about, and Dara felt surprisingly energized, the tension draining out of her as they strolled.

  "So, what is it you want to tell me?" she asked, her voice teasing.

  "I had the most amazing day," Jonathan gushed. "I nailed it, Dara."

  He launched into a long description of how he'd wowed his master, and it surprised Dara to find her mind wandering. Usually, she hung on Jonathan's every word, just as anxious for his success as for her own. Dismayed, she realized she envied him. Everything seemed unfairly easy for him.

  Ashamed of herself, she trailed a hand along one of the many statues. Though no two were alike, there was an overall sameness to the park, and its charms had long since faded for Dara. It was a pleasant enough place to walk, and it had a nice playground for the younger children, but there was little else to recommend it to her.

  "Do you ever wonder what it would have been like, to walk in one of those green parks we saw in our history books?" she asked Jonathan. She hadn't even realized she'd interrupted him until she took in the hurt look on his face.

  "Is everything okay?" he asked.

  "Oh, Jon, I'm so sorry. I'm such a jerk. Things have been so stressful for me, but that's no excuse."

  Though he still looked a little hurt, he waved her words away. "It's fine, Dara, really. I'm sorry things have been so difficult. I hope that my talking about what's been happening to me isn't making this harder on you."

  "No! No, I don't want you to think that!" she said, horrified by the truth of his words. She dropped her eyes, hoping he wouldn't see her expression. He didn't deserve this. The fact that things were rough for her didn't give her the right to ruin his happiness.

  "Okay, well, I just don't want you to think that I don't sympathize with you, because I do," he said, his voice quiet.

  "I know." She stopped walking and took his hands in hers. "It's just one of many reasons why I love you."

  He smiled and squeezed her hands. "I love you too, you know. If there were some way I could fix this for you, make it easier on you..." His smile melted into an expression of earnest seriousness.

  "I know." She hugged him, resting her head against his chest. Every word he spoke increased her guilt.

  "You stole it from me, you asshole," a voice snarled nearby.

  She and Jonathan both stiffened, silently drawing apart. He shook his head in response to her quizzical gaze, indicating that she should stay quiet. The statues concealed the speaker but, despite the low tone in which he spoke, his voice carried.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," another male voice replied, in a blandly distant tone.

  "That's Javier," Dara whispered, shocked. "And the other person is Ryan."

  "What do you think is going on?" Jonathan whispered back.

  Just as she opened her mouth to reply, something thumped against a statue, making them both jump.

  "That design was mine. I don't know how you made it work, but you had no right to take it," Ryan hissed.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," Javier drawled. "And LeTour, it's unwise for you to touch me."

  "Oh, really?" Ryan sneered.

  "Really." A second later, there was another thump, followed by a stifled cry of pain.

  "This isn't over!" Ryan grunted, his words followed by a slight groan of pain. He limped right past Jonathan and Dara's path, so caught up in his own outrage that he didn't see them. A few seconds later, Javier strolled by, his hands in his pockets.

  "Creators," Jonathan muttered. He looked every bit as shocked as she felt. "Is that what you've been putting up with?"

  "Yes. Though the violence has just been verbal up to this point."

  "You really think Javier would steal Ryan's idea?"

  "I don't know." Dara chewed her lip. "Javier is so hard to read, but he does seem to be very...calculating."

  "This is unbelievable." Jonathan rubbed the side of his nose, a nervous gesture of his, and Dara knew he was genuinely concerned about her situation.

  "Letizia told me I'm lucky the two of them are locked in battle. She says it should make things easier on me."

  "She's right, but if either of them acts remotely like that toward you—" he began, his voice lowering.

  "I'll punch them myself, thanks," she said lightly.

  Shaking his head, he smiled. "Yeah, I guess I should be more worried about them than about you."

  "Got that right. I'm fierce," she declared. They began walking again, observing a companionable silence for a few moments, Dara deep in thought about what they had just witnessed.

  She couldn't deny that Javier's determination rivaled Ryan's, but she simply could not imagine he would steal someone else's work. She told herself it was stupid to feel too much sympathy for him, that he gunned for her every bit as much as he gunned for Ryan. But as much as she'd like to, she couldn't write Javier off, which was a huge problem. Seeing her competitors as friends would do her no favors.

  "Are you still stewing?" Jonathan's voice broke into her thoughts. "Seriously, Dara, you have nothing to worry about. You're the best there is, and you know it."

  "I'm not sure that's enough anymore, Jon. Things are so...so different from how they were in school," she said slowly.

  "You have to have faith in the system," he told her firmly. "Remember: The system provides for those that provide for the system."

  "Right," she said, her voice faint. A chill ran down her spine and she shivered, hoping he wouldn't notice.

  Chapter 8

  Things were quiet for a while, but the tension between Ryan and Javier only increased, while Dara did her best to steer clear of it. After several days, she realized it was much easier to focus on what she could control than fret about what she couldn't. She had achieved a level of such focus that she became almost entirely unaware of the world around her as she worked.

  "Dara," Letizia said, her voice insistent. She shook her apprentice gently by the shoulder.

  "Oh, Letizia. I think I finally made a breakthrough with…"

  "There's something I need to tell you," Letizia broke in. She put her free hand on Dara's other shoulder, turning her apprentice to face her. Dara's hands began to sweat.

  Oh no! They're going to throw me out of the program! Andersen hates me and he's decided he'd be far better off with Javier or Ryan.

  Her heart began racing wildly and she felt sick to her stomach. How could she have messed up so terribly already? She began cataloging all the mistakes she'd made, all the times the other two candidates had made her look bad. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was of her own failure. She was so preoccupied that, when she finally heard what Letizia said to her, it took her brain a full minute to process the words.

  "Your mother's been in an accident," Letizia repeated. She hunched over, bringing her eye-level with Dara, and Dara saw a flicker of concern pass through her master's gaze.

  "My mother? What?" Dara felt like the floor dropp
ed out from under her. Her knees buckled, throwing her weight forward, making her lean heavily on Letizia.

  "Whoa there," Javier said, helping Letizia to steady Dara. The two of them eased her into a chair.

  "What do you mean she's been in an accident? Where? Where is she? Take me to her!" Dara cried, leaping up. Letizia restrained her with gentle hands, forcing her back into the chair.

  "You can't see her right now. She's been taken to the med center," Letizia said, her voice as gentle as her hands had been.

  "How bad is it?" Dara whispered, terror making it difficult for her to even form the words.

  "I don't know. I'm sorry. All I do know is that it's very serious."

  Raising a shaky hand to her temple, Dara felt the dampness on her face and swiped at tears she hadn't realized she was crying.

  "My father, I need...I need to find my father." She made a move to get up but, once more, Letizia restrained her.

  "Your father is at the med center with your mother. I spoke to him directly; he's the one who asked me to let you know. He wants you to stay here."

  "What? Stay here? I don't... I can't..." Her thoughts were so jumbled that she couldn't make sense of them, but she did know that what she wanted more than anything was to get to her mother.

  "Your father said there's nothing you can do for your mother right now. There's nothing anyone can do. He wants you to stay here and keep working."

  "Keep working? How can I keep working right now? I..."

  Letizia glanced around the room, a frown on her face. "Come with me."

  As Dara tried to rise to her feet, her knees shook. Looking around once more, Letizia put an arm around Dara's shoulders, allowing her apprentice to lean against her as they moved out of the engineering area. Letizia led Dara into an unused conference room and closed the door.

  "Letizia, I can't stay here. You know that, right? I have to get to my mother," Dara said, crying in earnest.

  "I understand." Letizia's expression was sympathetic. "But your father insisted he wanted you to stay here. He said that you worked hard for this and Head of Engineering Andersen would appreciate your dedication."

  The words set off a bomb inside of Dara, and she understood why her master had led her to a secluded area. Grateful for the privacy, she allowed herself to slowly fall apart, her entire body heaving with the violence of her sobs.

  "They were your father's words, you understand," Letizia said softly. She had a supportive grip on Dara's elbow and Dara had the wild sensation that if Letizia let her go, she would float up and away.

  "How could he think... How can I possibly concentrate right now?"

  Letizia was quiet for a long moment. "Productivity is a good means of focusing the mind and forgetting what troubles us. There is peace and fulfillment in productivity. This is something all good Contributors, like your father, understand."

  "Does the Head of Engineering know about this?"

  "Yes."

  "What did he say?"

  "He said you should do what you must."

  "I should do what I must?" Dara repeated dumbly, looking at her master. Letizia's eyes were cold. "What does that mean?"

  "It means he's leaving the choice to you."

  "And he'll evaluate me based on my choice?" Dara asked, realization dawning on her.

  Letizia simply nodded, and Dara's stomach heaved so forcefully that she ran to the trash chute, barely managing to get her head inside before she began retching. To her surprise, Letizia came over and placed a steadying hand on Dara's back, leaving it there until Dara finished.

  "It's difficult to find focus when we're really upset. But focus is exactly what you need right now," Letizia said. Her words held an undercurrent, but Dara was too distraught to try to decipher it.

  "I guess I'd better get to work then," Dara said bitterly.

  How could her father think she could just ignore the fact that her mother was in the med center right now, that she might be dying? How could she just go on with her work as though nothing had happened? And how could Andersen be so callous as to judge her if she chose to be with her mother?

  "I know this is difficult for you, but I think you've made the right decision," Letizia said, her words stinging Dara.

  "Of course. Magnum comes first," Dara said, her stiff lips attempting to reject the words.

  "I think we should meet later, to discuss your upcoming project." Letizia's eyes darted around the room, and Dara wondered if her master worried Dara would lash out at her for the suggestion. If that was the case, she was right to be worried. Dara curled her hand into a fist and willed herself to be calm.

  "Certainly," she replied, her voice clipped. "Where would you like to meet?"

  "I'll come to your apartment at ten tonight."

  "As you wish."

  For one truly crazed moment, Dara wondered if the whole incident had been made up, a test designed to determine how she handled high levels of stress. She imagined that her mother was just fine, that she was hard at work as always. Maybe in another day or two, Ryan or Javier would be tested in a similar manner. Maybe they'd be told that their best friend or their girlfriend or their grandfather had died, and Andersen and the engineers would be standing there, tablets and styluses in hand, waiting to take notes on how they reacted.

  Letizia opened her mouth as if to say something, shook her head, and then closed her mouth, holding her arm out toward the door. Without another word, Dara walked through it and back to her station.

  "You're still here?" Javier asked, his low voice surprised. She hunched over her station, wanting to shut him and everything else out.

  "Yes. My father thought it would be for the best."

  "That's...that's kind of harsh."

  Startled, Dara turned and looked at him. She instinctively began defending her father. "My dad is just thinking of me. He knows—"

  Javier held his hands up in a gesture of submission. "Please, don't take offense. I honestly didn't mean anything by it. I'm just not so sure that if I were in your situation I'd be able to concentrate."

  She stared so intently at him that he dropped his eyes back down to his own work. It was impossible to say if he was being sincere. His words had sounded sympathetic, and the look in his eyes had been one of empathy, but she knew that he wanted this position every bit as badly as she did. It would be so much easier for her if she knew whether to count him as a friend or a foe.

  "Your mother will be fine, Apprentice Morrow. Magnum has the best medical staff," Andersen said, suddenly appearing to her right. She jumped.

  "Th-Thank you, sir."

  "Your dedication to your Contribution has been noted, and I'm sure your mother would be proud of you."

  For one dizzying instant, she was afraid she'd be sick again, this time all over Andersen's shiny shoes. She forced herself to focus on them. They were so slick that she could clearly see her agonized reflection.

  "Thank you, sir," she repeated, her own words making her feel nearly as sick as his.

  He nodded magnanimously at her, as if he'd done her some sort of favor by troubling himself to console her. In that instant, he so disgusted her that she wanted to storm out, telling him where he could shove his apprenticeship.

  And then what will you do? Go find work somewhere else? You think some other head will take you on, after hearing Andersen's side of the story?

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she stared unseeingly at her screen. She had never imagined that becoming a Contributor would be like this.

  Chapter 9

  How she made it through the day, Dara would never know. From time to time, Letizia brought updates from her father, but they weren't good enough. She didn't care what her father said, she wanted to be in the med center with her mother. A sort of superstition convinced her that her presence would somehow guarantee her mother would pull out of this.

  "How was your day?" Jonathan greeted her with a big smile as she hurried up to him. He caught sight of her face, and his grin melted away,
instantly replaced by a look of concern. Gripping her elbow, he asked urgently, "What's wrong?"

  "My mom...she had an accident and I—"

  "When did this happen?" Jonathan immediately steered her toward the exit.

  "A few hours ago. I wanted to leave, but my dad told me to stay."

  "Oh, Dara, that must have been so difficult for you."

  For once, she forgot about all of the people swirling around them, and she burst into tears, relieved to be with someone with whom she didn't have to maintain a facade, someone who truly understood the depths of her pain.

  "I can't believe he wanted me to stay!" She could barely see through the haze of her tears.

  "He was just looking out for you, sweetheart."

  Her spine stiffened, and she wanted to pull away from him, but she reached for his arm instead. Without him, she doubted she'd be able to find her way to the med center.

  "How can you think that? She's hurt! I don't even know how badly or if she'll make it. What could possibly be more important than being there? What if she'd woken up, how would my absence be explained? 'Sorry, Dara was so busy Contributing, she couldn't be here for you?'"

  Dara knew perfectly well that her voice rose with every word, and that people were beginning to turn and look, but she didn't care. Jonathan clearly did, though. He looked around uneasily.

  "Dara, honey, you're upset right now, and that's understandable," he said, placating.

  "Of course I'm upset!" she shouted. People openly gaped at her.

  "You don't want to do this in public. You don't want to show your private grief like this," he whispered.

  All of the fight went out of her as she realized she was just providing fodder for gossip. She didn't want anyone taking her love and concern for her mother and twisting it into something ugly.

  Still, she seethed with anger at him. She had always believed that the two of them could all but experience one another's thoughts, hopes, dreams, fears. How could he not understand how she felt?

  By the time they reached the med center, she had put all of her uneasiness about Jonathan aside. Later, when things were better—if they were better—she would take the time to think about what her feelings meant. For now, her sole concern was her mother.