The Gender Fall

by Bella Forrest

  “She’s fine,” I assured everyone. “She’s resting. However, I’ve decided to send Owen and Amber into The Green, hopefully to convince the Liberators to switch sides, but, more importantly, to bring back Dr. Tierney and medical supplies.”

  Owen gave me a grateful look, a smile curling at the corners of his lips, and I nodded in acknowledgement. Ms. Dale leaned forward, her face impassive.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked.

  I shot a glance at Amber, who raised an eyebrow at me. “Amber made some good points earlier, and I think it might be our best chance. However, before you two go”—I fixed Amber and Owen with a look—“would you mind staying for this meeting? Your insight would be helpful, and I have something to talk about with both of you afterward.”

  “Of course,” said Owen, nodding. “We don’t want to leave you in the lurch.” Amber raised one eyebrow, but nodded.

  “Good,” I replied.

  “Not good,” contradicted Ms. Dale. I gave her a questioning look, but her focus was on Owen and Amber. “Not that I doubt you made good points to Mr. Croft here, but I just want to be clear—you’re going to the Facility?”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Not even remotely.”

  Amber and Owen exchanged chagrined looks as they spoke over each other, and Amber waved a hand, indicating Owen should take the lead. Owen met Ms. Dale’s gaze with an earnest smile, before explaining they’d be going to their home base, hidden on the Patrian side of The Green.

  “Amber and I talked about this, and we figure Desmond will be paying closer attention to the Facility than our base—because it looks like she kicked the Liberators out of it and gave the Matrians full control—and all the research for the boys is based there.”

  Ms. Dale met his gaze, then leaned back in the chair. “In that case, I’m satisfied,” she said with a nod, though her eyes were still cold, probably at the thought of the poor boys’ plight.

  I felt myself smile at Ms. Dale, shaking my head in amusement. That woman was like a bloodhound when it came to finding flaws in plans, and I was once again impressed she had thought to ask that question. I hadn’t thought of it until Amber had brought it up herself—I’d had no idea the Liberators even had another base. Then again, most of my time with the Liberators had been spent either in convalescence or training the boys. It hadn’t left a lot of room for talking.

  “All right,” I said, settling back into the chair with a slight stretch and letting its back serve as support for my head. I was eager to move on to the next topic. “Thomas—what do we know about Tim?”

  Thomas’ head jerked up, his mouth dropping open and then snapping shut. I had caught him off guard, it seemed. He smoothed the front of his shirt, collecting himself, and then leaned forward. “Well, it’s been chaotic with the move and the palace, but I’ve finally had a chance to hack one of the handhelds we collected from the Matrian wardens after their attack on Ashabee’s estate. I’ve gotten just a smattering of information—they’re using a sophisticated data encryption key I haven’t seen before, but I’ve been slowly deciphering the messages. A lot of it is fragmented, but even then… so far, there hasn’t been any description of a captured male fitting Mr. Bates’ description.”

  I felt disappointed but unsurprised. It hadn’t seemed likely that answers would just fall in our laps, but still, it would’ve been… nice. “Keep monitoring it,” I said, and Thomas nodded. “What else have you found?”

  Thomas leaned forward, excitement shining in his dark eyes. “Well, I’ve got good news and bad news—which would you prefer?”

  I gave him a look from beneath my heavy eyelids, but it was Amber who answered. “Bad news,” she said sweetly. Everyone looked at her, and she gave a little shrug. “I like getting the bad stuff over and done with first—makes the good news all the more delectable.”

  I refrained from sighing. “You heard the lady,” I muttered. “Give us the bad.”

  “Well, I have no idea where the Matrians are holing up. A general call was sent to retreat to a location after the bombing at the palace, but they’re referring to the location by a code name, which is meaningless to us. Any chance we had of sabotaging their retreat or taking out a supply line is out, until I crack the code or they slip up.”

  “That might be for the best,” replied Ms. Dale. “The people in this room are the best-trained operatives we have at the moment. I’m working with the recruits day and night, but they are nowhere near ready. Attempting a major offensive right now would be more than risky.”

  “I agree,” added Owen. “We aren’t strong enough to hit them directly. Better to look at indirect ways of bringing them down.”

  I leaned forward and looked at Thomas. “What’s the good?”

  “I’ve decrypted several messages regarding another location and put them together. I think I’ve found where they are taking the men after they separate them from their families.”

  “That’s interesting,” said Amber. “Where?”

  Thomas sifted through several of the maps on the table, pulling out a big one. “This would be so much better with that hologram projector on the heloship,” he grumbled as he picked up a red pencil and studied the features on the map. After a few moments, he circled an area northeast of our position, about forty miles away. “There.”

  I slid the map closer to me and studied it. It took me a few seconds to focus, as the map seemed an amorphous blob to my tired eyes. I blinked several times, trying to make everything come together through sheer force of will. “Why do you consider this good news?” I asked after I had taken a good look at it.

  Thomas gave me an incredulous look and then sighed in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Because they could mean recruits for us! More people to fill out our ranks and make us more formidable.”

  Considering his answer, I looked over to Ms. Dale and noticed she had a frown on her face. “What do you think, Melissa?”

  She met my gaze and then shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she replied. “We have no idea how accurate that information is—for all we know, this place is just a mass burial site for the people they’ve been killing.”

  “What?!” exclaimed Thomas, practically sputtering. “That’s ridiculous—they wouldn’t kill people and then transport them. Too much work, and it has the potential for alerting the remaining population to their true intentions. It’s much more likely they are collecting the men, transporting them to the site, and then executing them. Less chance of witnesses that way.”

  “That’s… actually a good point,” Ms. Dale muttered. Thomas beamed, and Ms. Dale went on. “But that doesn’t mean that they aren’t just transporting them there to kill them. However, even if that’s not the case, it’s still not necessarily a good idea to charge in. The camp will be heavily fortified and defended. Besides, our top priority should be addressing what new information Elena is feeding the populace. The tickers are still down, which would cause mass chaos, but we have seen no evidence of chaos. Elena is probably disseminating the news to the population somehow. We need to send an agent into the city to find out how she’s doing it. That way, we’ll have a better idea how to proceed.”

  Thomas opened his mouth to launch a counterargument about how his idea was more important. I slowly stood up, keeping a careful ear on the conversation, but also desperate for a cup of coffee—I was on the brink of falling asleep, a sure sign I was overtaxing myself, and I knew getting up would force more life into my limbs, and coffee would help my mind. The debate continued as I rose, and I had to admit, both of them were making good points; both ideas were well reasoned and thought out.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee from the metal coffeemaker and took a sip, grimacing at the stale taste, and then forced another sip, needing the caffeine. I moved back to the table, loudly setting my cup down as the argument began to grow heated.

  Thomas and Ms. Dale paused, looking at me, and I held up my hand in
a silent entreaty. They both shut their mouths and waited, and I was struck with appreciation for how well we all worked together.

  “I think we should send two agents,” I said, “one male, one female, into the city. Ms. Dale is right—we do need to know how Elena is keeping control. Knowing what lies she’s telling is going to be essential to helping us know how best to move forward.”

  Ms. Dale gave me a smile and leaned back, smirking at Thomas. I let her have her moment of victory before adding, “I also think we need to send scouts to the location Thomas pointed out. He’s right—any chance we can spare lives, while also getting them to join up, is a possibility worth looking into. Besides, what if Tim was picked up and shipped there? That possibility makes it all the more important that we check it out.”

  Everyone nodded, and I took another sip of coffee.

  “I think we should send Jeff into the city,” Ms. Dale said. “He’s got a clean record, and with Ashabee taken by Elena, he has a perfect cover. I also have some ideas for who else to send, so don’t worry about that.”

  I gave her a grateful look. “All right. Is there anything else?”

  “I should add that the move from Ashabee’s manor to this location was mostly successful,” Ms. Dale continued. “Thanks to the refugees, we were able to drive most of the vehicles in one big caravan, and fit all our people and supplies. We were able to move most of the items from the warehouse, as well as Solomon—but there were a few things left behind that we might want to go get.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Amber chimed in, looking at Ms. Dale. “By now, they will have figured out we were using the house for a while, and will likely be watching it, waiting to see if we come back.”

  “There’s also the fact that they have Amber’s father,” added Owen. “If they’ve tortured him…”

  “They might not be torturing him,” Amber said, although by her tone of voice, I could tell she hoped they were.

  “They are,” Thomas cut in darkly. “Why wouldn’t they? They would’ve already pieced together that something was wrong when their patrol never checked back in. It would be the first thing they’d do. It’d be the first thing I’d do. It’s better to think about this in terms of worst possible outcomes, so that we can take every precaution foreseeable.”

  “That’s why I’ve secured King Maxen at an alternate location,” added Ms. Dale. “It’s also where I’m holding Solomon. I’m the only one, besides the guards I placed with them, who knows where it is, and the guards check in with me regularly.” She shot me an apologetic look as she continued. “The precaution is necessary to prevent anyone else from being leveraged like Violet was.”

  I nodded, carefully considering her words, repressing an irrational flare of anger. I knew she wasn’t placing blame on Violet, but it was hard not to feel like she was. Violet had jeopardized a key part of our plan by bringing Maxen, but she had also taken pains to make sure he got out in the confusion—and had lost her brother in the process. Everyone in the room knew it.

  “I agree,” I said. “Better to be cautious than foolhardy. Melissa, if we assume Ashabee is compromised, is this location secure?”

  “It is, reasonably. Ashabee pointed out a few places, including an abandoned farm, but I actually found this place on my own, on a lark. He didn’t know about it, so that makes it safe. For now.”

  I accepted this with a nod and then looked around. “Anything else?”

  Everyone shook their heads, and I nodded again. “All right. Let’s get to it, then. Amber, Owen—discuss what you’ll need for the mission before you get packed up. I want a list for Ms. Dale, so we can keep our inventory organized. Bring it back to me before you head out.”

  The effect of my declaration was immediate. Thomas slipped out of the room, muttering about plans and strategies, while Amber and Owen nodded and scooted closer together, quietly discussing what they needed as Amber scribbled on a piece of paper.

  Ms. Dale got up and moved over to me, resting a hand on my shoulder, dragging my attention from the two of them. “How is she, really?” she asked, and I sighed, rubbing my eyes in a futile attempt to relieve the headache starting to form.

  “She’s going to get worse if we don’t get her that help,” I replied, and Ms. Dale squeezed my shoulder tightly.

  “She’s tough. And you made a good call tonight. Several, actually, but the one about the Liberators… I’ve thought it over, and it’s a good idea. They have training, and they can help us. I’m just glad you came to the decision.” I gave her a curious look, and she shot me a half-smile, her expression wistful. “I thought if I brought it up, it would seem too… self-interested.”

  Frowning, I reached up and covered her hand with mine, giving her a little squeeze back. “How is he?” Ms. Dale knew I was referring to Henrik. She didn’t respond, but I could tell when her expression froze into that unreadable mask that his prognosis still wasn’t good. “We’ll get them to come,” I told her, confident. “Dr. Tierney will be able to help him.”

  Ms. Dale gave me a hard look. “You and I are too old to believe in miracles, Mr. Croft.”

  “Whoa—I’m not that old,” I retorted. “But please, tell me, what was the earth like before the destruction of mankind?”

  She withdrew her hand and smacked me smartly on the arm, but she was smiling, a twinkle in her eyes. I chuckled as I rubbed the spot, and then turned to Amber and Owen, who were in the process of rising from their chairs. Owen handed me the list, and I skimmed it, noting the subvocalizers on the equipment list.

  “Looks good,” I said with a nod. “Just make sure you grab enough for the three of us.”

  8

  Viggo

  There was a long pause after my announcement, and I saw confusion flit over the faces of everyone in the room. Amber gave me an especially dubious look. “The three of us?” she repeated, her voice rising with the question.

  “Yes,” I replied, standing up. “You, Owen, and me. I’m going with you.”

  Owen gave me an alarmed look, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Viggo. You might want to sit this one out.”

  “Yeah,” said Amber. “We might get a pass because the Liberators have known us for a long time, and that alone might make them willing to hear us out. If you’re there… they won’t be so inclined to talk to us.”

  “Well, that’s too bad, because I’m going,” I replied calmly. Owen and Amber exchanged looks, and I noticed Amber shift her gaze over to Ms. Dale, a pleading look in her eyes. I suppressed a sigh. I knew this was not going to be an easy sell—it was why I had waited until after the meeting to bring it up. Yet I was resolved to go with them, whether they liked it or not. I just needed to convince them.

  Ms. Dale studied my face closely, crossing her arms. “Why do you want to go?” she asked.

  “For one thing, Violet’s life is on the line,” I replied. “But honestly, it’s more than that. We’re trying to convince them not only to break from Desmond, but also to join with us. And that means with Violet and me. They need to come to terms with the fact we aren’t traitors.”

  “I agree, but it still doesn’t make sense, Viggo,” replied Owen. “Why not let us go, show them the video, and then explain about you?”

  “It’s a point of integrity at this point, Owen,” I replied patiently, my weariness thrumming underneath the argument like a sluggish current in my brain. But this was important, dammit. “I need to show them that, in spite of them supporting Desmond when she ran us out, we’re still willing to be their allies,” I continued. “It’s the best way to put a positive foot forward.”

  Owen seemed to take a moment to consider. “That’s a good point,” he said. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  Amber gaped at Owen and then shook her head emphatically. “It’s admirable, but still a really bad idea. They don’t trust you, and they’ll trust us less with you there.”

  “That might be true,” I replied, “but we have no
idea what you’re walking into. For all we know, they’ll throw you in a cell and call Desmond. I’d rather be there, just in case—because I know cells and how to get out of them. We’ll work better as a team. Besides…” I let a little smile crawl onto my face. “I think it might actually bother me if something happened to you both.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed over Owen’s face, but Amber rolled her eyes at my joke, clearly not amused. She opened her mouth to argue, but I held up my hand, cutting her off.

  It was hard, but this time, I let the raw emotion I had been struggling with slip into my voice. “In all honesty, I am grasping for straws here. With Quinn, Henrik, and Violet injured, we’re all infinitely more vulnerable. And we’re each infinitely more valuable to the enemy. We can’t all go—Ms. Dale needs to stay behind to make sure the mission will be carried on without us—but we also don’t have to compartmentalize this much. I want to be there to help if I can, argue when I must, and help ensure our survival overall.”

  Owen picked up where I had left off, his face animated. “He’s right, Amber. They might not like it, but if we’re going to get them on our side, they need to face this reality sooner or later. Might as well get it out of the way sooner, rather than the later. Besides, by going in with Viggo, we show that we support him. We are allied with him. And we follow his leadership one hundred percent. They need to be on board with that, and all that it implies.”

  Amber fell silent, her gaze drifting down as she thought about it. Then she nodded. “All right,” she conceded. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”

  I let out the breath I had been holding and held up my finger. “Okay. I’ll go grab my bag. Owen, would you and Amber mind packing up the equipment you listed, and I’ll meet you on the porch?”

  Owen raised his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, which was spoiled by his wide grin. Then he and Amber turned and headed back outside to the barn to gear up.