"That's what makes this hard, isn't it? The Creators aren't all bad. They do provide for everyone in the domes."
"Yes, but why? I used to think it was because they cared, but now I'm starting to think that it's just because it's more...convenient."
"Things haven't always been this way. Attitudes changed. Things that used to seem important became less so, and the scarcity of resources was a big force for driving change."
"How do you know these things? This doesn't sound anything like what we learned at school."
"Why do you think we're so passionate about protecting the books we've gathered? Everyone has different opinions on things, different versions of events. The danger lies in hearing only one of those opinions, learning about only one of those versions," Letizia said.
"I'm curious about those books," Dara admitted.
Letizia took one of her hands. "They're for all of us, Dara, including you. The option is always there."
Dara thought about this as she rubbed her burning eyes. "Thanks. Would you mind if I used your bathroom?"
"Of course not. Do you want some tea?"
"I've drunk a lot of tea and cried a lot of tears here," Dara said, as she rose from her seat, smiling crookedly. Letizia smiled as well.
Dara studied herself in the bathroom mirror, grimacing at her blotchy redness of her tear-streaked face. She pressed a palm over the terrible, empty ache in her chest. With a deep sigh, she cupped her hands under the tap and liberally splashed her face with cold water. The sensation made her gasp, but it did cool her flaming cheeks.
One step at a time, she thought, drying her face. It will hurt, but you can make it through this.
A steaming mug of tea waited for her, and she sipped it gratefully, her eyes widening at its sweetness.
"A gift from Andersen last year, for exemplary performance," Letizia said.
Dara couldn't help but marvel at the depths of her master's deception. Letizia had Andersen so utterly convinced of her devotion that he approved of her enough to give her as precious and rare a gift as honey.
"Why did you want to meet with me?" Dara asked Letizia. No matter how much her breakup with Jonathan hurt, Dara couldn't afford to lose her focus at work.
"I think you have the position as Andersen's assistant locked up," Letizia said.
Dara tried to decide how she felt. She couldn't believe that, a few months ago, her dearest wish had been to hear these very words.
You also thought you and Jonathan would get married. She resolutely pushed the thought from her mind.
"Thanks to you," Dara said.
"What do you mean?"
"You set Javier up."
"I'm not proud of it." Letizia looked away.
Dara studied her master for a long moment. "He took the bait."
"So that absolves me of any responsibility?" Letizia demanded.
"No, not really."
"Do you know what I dislike most about myself?"
Surprised by the turn of the conversation, Dara shook her head, staring curiously at Letizia.
"I dislike how easy it is for me, how good I am at finding and exploiting other people's weaknesses." Her face twisted bitterly, and each word came out sounding as if she hated the taste.
"You're not doing it for your own gain."
"That doesn't make it okay. I hate having to do bad things for good reasons—or at least what I think are good reasons. Sometimes I feel like I'm a few steps away from becoming Andersen."
"You're not Andersen, and you never will be," Dara insisted. "Andersen wouldn't be sitting here giving me tea and letting me cry on his shoulder about my boyfriend. Andersen wouldn't have thought of a way to help my mother."
Letizia dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking. "Yeah, great job I'm doing of comforting you."
"It's only fair that you get a turn to cry," Dara said, injecting some humor into her voice.
Though Letizia laughed, in a matter of seconds she dissolved into tears as well, and it was Dara's turn to put her arm around her master's shoulders.
"It didn't bother me as much, with LeTour. He deserved it, the little bastard. He tried to kill you," Letizia said. "But with Gutierrez..."
"I know. I thought he was different, too."
"The scary thing is he's a lot like me." Letizia wiped tears away. "He did what he thought he needed to survive, so I retaliated using my own survival tactics."
"The choice was still his. You didn't force him into doing anything, Letizia. He could have decided to create his own design, but he chose to steal mine."
"But I knew he would. That's what I was trying to tell you. I knew exactly how to tempt him, and I didn't hesitate to do it."
"I guess the difference is that he did it for himself and you did it for me. You'll have to decide if that makes you feel any better."
"I'd rather we could all just work together, for a change."
"I know," Dara sighed. "I feel the same way."
They both fell silent. Though Letizia had stopped crying, Dara could tell that her master was still deeply disturbed.
"You know, lately I've spent a lot of time thinking about what sort of person you are," Dara told her.
"Have you?" Letizia asked, pulling away and returning to the ramrod straight posture that Dara always associated with her.
"Yes. Whenever I'm in the middle of a fit of self-pity, I stop and think about how useless it is to just whine about how things are. You don't whine. You try to make things different."
Letizia smiled ever so slightly. "Thanks."
"Thank you," Dara said, meeting her master's eyes. "Really, thank you. It means a lot to me that you're my friend."
"The feeling is mutual."
"I should go now." Dara stood up, and Letizia followed suit. "I have a pillow that's waiting to be soaked with tears."
"Mine could probably use a good bath too." Letizia laughed a little.
Dara smiled and embraced her friend. "Try not to be so hard on yourself."
"You too."
"I'll try if you'll try."
"Deal." This time, Letizia's smile reached her eyes.
Chapter 35
The next several days were some of the most difficult of Dara's life. Each shift change, she hoped against hope she might find Jonathan waiting for her, and each time she was disappointed. It had been years since she had walked by herself, and she found the silence unnerving. How could she stride with purpose, holding her head high, when all the while she felt like some small part of her was dying?
Telling her father had been exceedingly difficult. As she'd dreaded, he took the news very hard.
"It's our fault, isn't it?"
"What? How could you think that? Of course it isn't!"
"Jonathan is such a good guy, but even he couldn't risk being involved with...our situation," Joshua said, fumbling for words.
Dara's eyes filled with horrified tears. "Oh, Dad, stop. Don't say that. It's just not true."
"I can't believe this is happening now, on top of everything." Her father sank into a chair, covering his face with his hands. "Dara, I'm so worried about you."
"As hard as it sometimes is to convince myself, this is for the best," Dara insisted, squatting in front of him.
"Just a few months ago, you were so happy, and now it's all been destroyed. I've spent your entire life trying to ensure that would never happen."
"You can't blame yourself for being unable to protect me from this. There was nothing you could have done."
"I just wanted a secure future for you. I thought that was exactly what you would have, and now—"
"Please, listen to me," Dara said urgently, placing her hands on his shoulders. He looked up and met her eyes. "This isn't how I thought things would turn out either, but I'm glad they didn't turn out any other way. Yes, I'm hurting and yes, this is difficult. But the fact is that Jonathan and I are just...we're in different places. Maybe if I hadn't crashed in the wasteland, I wouldn't have noticed it ri
ght away. Maybe I would have been happy with him for years. But someday, at some point, the cracks would have started to show."
Her father placed one of his hands over hers. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to see you grow up, to watch how you're handling this? It tears me apart. I mean, I'm proud of you, sweetheart, so proud. But, if I could have, I would have prevented it all from happening."
"You can't always protect me."
"I know, and that's a terrible reality for a parent."
"I couldn't ask for a better father. You're always there for me. You've always fought for me, always felt my pain and my success. That means more to me than I could ever tell you."
Joshua embraced her. "I love you. And I'm so sorry about Jonathan. I'm so sorry that sometimes people can't be who we need them to be."
"I couldn't be who he needed me to be either." She sighed regretfully.
"Then you're right, at some point you would have noticed, and that may have caused you a lot more pain than you're feeling right now."
Dara did her best to cling to this thought, especially during those long hours at night, when she had nothing else to occupy her mind. Leona's hard work with Raj left her so exhausted that she usually slept through the night. Though Dara was grateful, she also had to admit that some small, selfish part of her kind of longed for the sleepless nights spent working with her mother.
Concentrating on the tasks Andersen gave them was the only thing that kept her mind from going places she didn't want it to go, and she dove into her work with a zeal that no one failed to notice. Each day, Javier looked increasingly uneasy and Walters increasingly stormy. Letizia actually calmed down somewhat. Even Andersen began to look on Dara with something like approbation.
"At least I didn't have to sacrifice much to get here," she told Raj bitterly one night, as they cleaned up after dinner—which he had insisted on doing, despite Dara's protests.
"It's been rough for you," he said sympathetically.
"But I feel so guilty whining about it." She leaned back against the counter and rubbed her forehead tiredly. "When I look at my mom, I think I have no right to complain so much."
"Perspective is good, but it doesn't mean you should minimize what you're going through."
"Don't give me license. I already find enough excuses for self-pity," she pleaded half-heartedly.
"You know, you're really tough on yourself." Raj finished with the dishes and leaned against the counter next to her.
"I don't know. Maybe," she sighed.
"I hate to tell you, but you can't control the world." Though there was a touch of humor in his voice, his face was serious, and his eyes looked sad.
"I might actually believe that, one of these days." She sighed again, and looked up at him. "You know what I don't get about you?"
"What?"
"How you can be so compassionate. Aren't you doctors supposed to be detached?" She said it lightly, but she was genuinely curious. Being in close quarters with him had forced her into more intimacy than she might otherwise have chosen, but she soon learned that he was a very sympathetic listener, and that he had a talent for injecting some levity into pretty much any situation.
"Who said I was any good as a doctor?" he asked, with a smile.
She smiled as well. "Come on, now. I find it hard to believe you were anything less than exemplary in your studies."
A pained look crossed his face. "I cared too much. It's why I couldn't stay."
Silently, she waited for him to say more, but nothing was forthcoming. Instead, he changed the subject to something about which Dara didn't want to think.
"Dara, I know the timing isn't ideal but, well, these two weeks are almost up now and I..." he sighed deeply, sweeping a hand back over his hair as he looked away. "This is another reason why I would have been a lousy doctor. I've always hated this part."
Though it made her sick to talk about it, she decided to spare him by getting it out in the open. "It's not going to be enough, is it? All this work you've done with her."
"No," he admitted, grimacing.
"I think...I think some part of me always knew that," she admitted, her bottom lip quivering. She bit it, hoping he hadn't noticed.
"I tried, I really did, but your mother's case is so severe—"
"Looks like I'm not the only one who's hard on myself," she joked painfully. "No one expected you to be a miracle worker, you know, least of all me."
"That didn't stop me from wanting to be one," he said despondently.
"You're sure she can't..." But she trailed off as he slowly shook his head.
He raised his eyes to hers once more, and she could see the regret there. "I've looked at every single report from the technician. Though they say that she's made a remarkable recovery, they note—correctly—that she will not be able to return to her role as a Contributor."
"Right. So it's all over." Dara covered her face with her hands and took a long, shuddering breath. She had tried her best to prepare herself for this moment, but it had been impossible to face the reality that she would lose her mother.
"I'm sorry," Raj said quietly.
They stood silently in the kitchen for a few minutes, neither of them moving. Muted conversation drifted into the kitchen from the other room, her father talking to her mother, and she felt a stab of immobilizing pain as she realized that, far too soon, she'd never hear such a sound again.
"I have to tell my dad," Dara finally said, her voice breaking.
"I already talked to him," Raj said softly. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought—"
"No, it's okay." She thought she knew what he was trying to say, and she agreed; her father did have the right to know first. "What did he say?"
"He asked if I could do anything to help."
Startled, she raised her head and saw him looking at her with a tense expression, his lips compressed. "I'm sorry he put you on the spot like that. After all you've done for us, he shouldn't have asked." The words fell out of her mouth in a garbled rush.
"Oh, no, Dara, no," Raj said, his expression changing to one of horror. "I wasn't angry at your father. Please, I don't want you to think that. I'm just so angry to have to witness another situation like this. I'm angry at the injustice of it."
"Have you...have you seen many of them?"
"Far too many." He clenched his jaw, and her own sense of outrage flared.
"These two weeks are just a way of proving to us that we can't handle someone who isn't a Contributor, aren't they?"
"Yes," he spat, as if the word was poison.
Dara felt a burning fury. "I've been such an idiot, thinking this would all be okay."
"No, you haven't. The Job Creators manipulate families when they're at their most vulnerable. They should never expect someone to put their Contribution ahead of their commitment to their family."
"But we're powerless to do anything about it." Dara wanted to tear the dome apart with her bare hands, and it frightened her.
"Maybe not. I can help your mother."
"By removing her," Dara stated, a hollow feeling spreading through her stomach.
"Yes," Raj answered.
"My father asked you to take my mother, didn't he?"
"Yes."
Dara nodded. "I agree with him." She covered her eyes with her hands.
If she had to let her mother go, she'd much rather it be with someone who cared, someone like Raj, rather than to a soulless Magnum facility.
Chapter 36
It took Raj several days to make the arrangements and, as the day approached, the tension increased to an almost unbearable point. Both Dara and Joshua were terrified that someone would uncover their plot.
"The removal will take place during the day, when you're both at your shifts," Raj told them, as they sat in the living room discussing the details. "It's best if we don't discuss it with Leona ahead of time."
Joshua frowned. "I don't know, Raj. That just seems so..."
"I know, Joshua, and I'm
sorry. It may feel like deceiving her, but it's for her own safety. Try to keep that in mind."
Though her father didn't look happy about it, he nodded. It didn't sit well with Dara either, but she knew Raj was right. They couldn't risk Leona accidentally revealing the plot. It was a miracle she'd kept Raj's visits secret.
"Once Leona is safe," Raj continued, "I'll send a message to Letizia, who will pass it along to Dara."
"Will you tell us where she is?" Dara asked.
Raj hesitated. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's simply that it may be best for you not to know. That's why I won't tell you when the removal will take place. Your surprise will be genuine when you report it—which you will have to do."
"I want to know where my wife is going," Joshua said in a steely voice.
"I won't keep that information from you, if you insist on knowing it," Raj said. "But I'm asking you both to think about how extensively you want to be involved in this. Some families choose to have their loved ones removed without any further contact, so that they can try to continue on with their lives without falling under a cloud of suspicion. I know it sounds harsh, but some people think it's the best way."
"What do you think?" Dara asked.
"It's not for me to say."
"Won't her sudden disappearance look suspicious?" Joshua asked.
"As strange as it may sound, no," Raj replied.
Dara looked at him incredulously. "How can that be? It's not like there's anywhere for her to go."
Raj paused, and Dara searched his face, trying to read his expression. "I can't say what the people you know will think, and you need to prepare yourselves for the worst. But I've done quite a few of these removals, and I do know that Magnum won't bat an eye over Leona's disappearance."
"How do you know that?" Dara demanded.
"For starters, this won't be my first Magnum removal," he answered, pausing a moment to let this information sink in. "Secondly, don't forget that we have informants, that we are constantly gathering information. Over the years, we've learned that, when people like Leona go missing, the Job Creators are generally unconcerned."
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