Joan the Made

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Joan the Made Page 29

by Kristen Pham


  I tell him everything, including the truth about how I got the list of Strand executives and put another person in danger.

  I grip my hands together so tightly that the tips of my fingers lose feeling. “I screwed up again, and someone else paid for it.”

  I expect Nic to berate or insult me, but he holds back. I shift under his stare.

  When he finally breaks the silence, it’s with a quote. “There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things.”

  “Who said that?”

  “My namesake, Machiavelli. I hate it when he’s right,” Nic replies. “You seem destined to be one of the leaders of this rebellion, and you’re going to make mistakes. If you torture yourself over every last one, there will be nothing left of you when this is all over.”

  “Will it ever be over?”

  “For some of us, no. But for you, Joan, I think it will.”

  A timid knock interrupts our conversation. Nic opens the door, and Maverick darts inside.

  “Harriet told me how to find you. She said it’s okay to visit.”

  “Of course, buddy, you know I always want to see you. How is life as an official Lab rat?” I ask.

  The usual worry lines that were etched between his eyebrows are smoothed away. Harriet is taking good care of him.

  “We pretend we’re Peter Pan’s lost boys,” Mav says with a grin. “Jin and Blu showed me a hidden tunnel I didn’t know about! Maybe we’ll find a real skeleton!”

  His boyish exuberance explodes out of him, and I hate to dampen it, but I have to make sure he’s safe. “What about your dad? Is he searching for you?”

  Mav stands straighter. “I’m in charge of myself now, and I told my dad that. He got mad, but when I ran away, he didn’t chase me.”

  “Are the police looking for you?” Nic asks.

  Mav’s eyes widen. “No, Dad says the police are idiots, even Officer Boer, who helps him sometimes.”

  My stomach roils, and I’m glad there’s nothing left in me to throw up. Of course Officer Boer is in the headmaster’s pocket. The regular raids at the dorms make more sense now. I’m sure he’s the one who manages to delete any public footage of the headmaster and the girls he’s pimping out. And I know the currency the headmaster used to pay off his debt to Officer Boer.

  Sparkle, the night before she killed herself.

  “Joan?” Mav asks, his earlier confidence dissolving. “Are you mad at me?”

  My fists are clenched, and I uncurl them. “I’m never mad at you, Mav. All the good in you more than cancels out anything bad your dad has ever done.”

  Mav leans his head against my shoulder to hide the tears that are in his eyes. He opens the backpack he brought with him and hands me a sleek tablet.

  “What’s this?”

  “Dad’s tablet. I want to cancel out more of the bad stuff he’s done.”

  Chapter 44

  “It’s keyed to the headmaster’s fingerprints and retinal scan,” Marie announces after examining the tablet I brought to the Chrysalis. “The only one opening this thing is the man himself.”

  Marie, Harriet, Sun, and I are huddled inside of Marie’s cube, trying to decide what to do with Maverick’s gift.

  “With the Manipulator, we have the means to force him to open it,” I argue.

  “We don’t know what’s on the tablet,” Sun says. “Exposing the existence of the Manipulator is a high price to pay for an uncertain prize.”

  “We could hold back some of the damning information we find on the tablet in reserve, to keep as blackmail,” Harriet says, her tone thoughtful. “We don’t have to expose all of the secrets we uncover at once.”

  “If we take this risk, we need to act right away,” Sun says. “The headmaster will have noticed his tablet is missing, and it’s just a matter of time before he has it remotely wiped.”

  “If we want to expose him along with the rest of the executives on Circe Night, we have to get the evidence we need now,” Harriet adds.

  “What do you suggest? We walk straight into his office?” Marie asks.

  Sun pauses, and we all wait, watching the pieces join together in his mind. “No. Joan goes in alone.”

  As I approach the headmaster’s office, my hands begin to tremble. Logically, I know that this time, I have my team backing me up, should anything go wrong, but the terrified little girl in the back of my head is whimpering, remembering the lashing he delivered all those weeks ago, and the sting of his whip on my neck, immobilizing me so that I could be served up to Adam. No plan that involves the headmaster is a safe one.

  I do my best to squash the whimpering. The only way the headmaster is going down is if my team and I take him down. He’s not a priority for Crew and the rebellion.

  The headmaster’s secretary almost falls off her chair when she sees me enter the office. My body tenses as I take in her resemblance to Sparkle.

  “Dr. Hunter isn’t expecting you,” she says haltingly.

  “I think he’ll let me in.”

  At the sound of my voice, the headmaster’s door opens automatically. I reach in my pocket to clutch the Manipulator. Its reassuring presence gives me the bit of courage I need to go into my arch enemy’s lair.

  “The video feed from the camera on your shirt is live,” Marie whispers through the tiny microphone in my ear. “We can be up there in under a minute if the Manipulator fails.”

  Her voice grounds me, and I need it because the headmaster is glaring at me with ferocious intensity.

  “Did you come here to apologize and accept the beating you so richly deserve?”

  My eyes dart to the whip on his belt, and it’s an effort to suppress a cringe. “Not exactly.”

  The headmaster rises from his desk and advances toward me slowly. “In one evening, you managed to damage a reputation that took years to build. I’ve lost several clients due to your theatrics. You will accept the consequences for your actions.”

  The headmaster is within range of the Manipulator, and I pull the device out of my pocket. My hands are sweaty, but immobilizing him only requires me to push one button with my thumb, a task that I can manage no matter how unnerved I am.

  His body freezes midstride, and his confusion slowly morphs into fury. The Manipulator is preventing him from using his arms and legs, but it has no effect on his twitching fingers or his facial expressions.

  “You bitch. I’ll make sure that you are arrested for this,” the headmaster snarls.

  “I’d love the chance to face Officer Boer,” I reply, my voice steady now that the Manipulator has proven itself. “There are a number of things I’d love to do to him when he’s the helpless one.”

  “Release me,” he commands, his muscles bulging as he tries to fight the force that is controlling his movements.

  I pull the headmaster’s tablet out of my backpack, and his eyes dart to my face. I quickly put the tablet up to his eye for a retinal scan. He realizes what I’m planning and squeezes his eyes shut, so I have to pry one open with my fingers.

  “Candy! Get in here now!” the headmaster shouts.

  The Marilyn acting as the headmaster’s admin bursts into the room. What are the mothers of these Marilyn clones thinking when they name their babies?

  Candy’s eyes move from the tablet to the headmaster.

  “Call security,” he says.

  “Shut up,” I tell him.

  He ignores me, his eyes focused on Candy like he can hypnotize her with them. “Get the whip off my belt.”

  I punch him in the mouth, throwing my entire weight into the hit. My knuckles ache afterward, but it’s worth it when the headmaster grunts.

  He bares his teeth at me, and they’re bloody.

  “I told you to shut up. That was me playing nice. Next time you speak, I’ll knock you unconscious.”

  The headmaster strains against the invisible bonds of the Manipulat
or, and my heart pounds. If the device fails, I’m dead. Candy is still hovering at the door, her eyes wide.

  “Make your own decision, Candy. If you want to call security, you can. I’ll hurry out of here as fast as I can, but they might catch me and stop me. I’m here to make this bastard pay for years of abuse, and I can only do it by unlocking his tablet.”

  Candy’s hands drop to her sides, and she steps closer. Does she have a weapon on her?

  “Are you sure there is information on that thing that you can use to take him down? Other girls have tried to take him to court, and they failed,” Candy says.

  “I don’t know what’s on here,” I admit. “But there’s a good chance there’s something.”

  The headmaster’s eyes widen, and he starts to speak. This time, it’s Candy who delivers the blow to his head, smashing her high heel into the back of his skull. His eyes flutter back in his head, but the Manipulator keeps him standing.

  When she sees me staring, Candy shrugs. “You said if he spoke again that you’d knock him unconscious. And I’ve been waiting a long time to do just that.”

  I underestimated this woman.

  Candy takes the tablet from my hand. Before I can react, she presses the headmaster’s thumb to the fingerprint scanner, and the tablet unlocks. Her eyes meet mine.

  “Let’s tie him up,” I say, pulling out a long wire from my backpack.

  I use the Manipulator to keep him upright and arrange his hands behind his back, and position his feet together. Then we bind his hands and feet with the wire, which will deliver a nasty shock whenever he moves. Candy roughly shoves him down into his chair, and we tie him to it with more cord.

  “Do you have somewhere to hide?” I ask her.

  Candy nods. “I’ll go to my friend’s place. Don’t focus on me. Make Julius suffer. And make it public.”

  In her eagerness to explore the headmaster’s tablet, Marie practically snatches it from my hands as soon as we’re back in the Chrysalis. Expertly, her fingers scan through the files while Harriet, Sun, and I peer over her shoulder. A soft blue light surrounds us in the dimly lit innovation lab.

  “Do you see anything useful in there?” Harriet asks.

  “It’s going to take time to sort through this,” Marie says. “I’ll copy the hard drive so that the headmaster can’t wipe this remotely if he gets out of those wires you tied him up with.”

  I settle into the seat beside Marie, and Harriet clears her throat loudly. “Forgetting something?”

  “What?”

  “We have someplace to be,” Harriet reminds me.

  “Justus. Crap. He’ll understand that we can’t make it, right?”

  “Go, Joan,” Marie says. “What if Lexi is watching your movements? Going to a Throwback party is something a normal teenager would do. Sun and I can search the computer and gather evidence.”

  “You must live your life,” Sun agrees, and I allow Harriet to tug me out of the Chrysalis.

  “You don’t miss someone’s Morph party,” Harriet says, her tone terse as we make our way through the streets of Seattle.

  “I get that it’s an important birthday for him, but there’ll be other years, other parties. We get one chance to take down the headmaster.”

  “Throwbacks only celebrate birthdays until they receive their lavalieres. After that, what is there to celebrate except surviving another year?”

  I’m taken aback. Even after all of these weeks at Seattle Secondary, the Throwback culture still feels foreign sometimes.

  “We’re going to change that,” I promise quietly as we approach the door of an old but well-kept house on the edge of White Center.

  I peer into the large window next to the front door and see a small room with furniture that is shabby but carefully chosen, resulting in an elegance that belies the frayed edges of the pillows on the red couch.

  The door is cracked, and the sound of laughter and music cuts through the tension in my mind. Harriet pushes the door open, and we’re greeted by a chorus of greetings from a collection of people largely made up of common, recognizable clone types.

  My favorite smile spreads across Justus’s face when he sees me enter. Harriet is surrounded by kids who smother her in hugs, just like how she’s greeted in the Lab.

  “You’re here,” Justus says when he reaches my side. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to steal away.”

  I want to hug Harriet for reminding me to come now that I see how much it means to Justus. His face is more relaxed and unguarded than I’ve ever seen it as he introduces me to his five brothers, who are all Mac clone types. Brie shyly nods her head at me.

  “Brie-Bear!” I exclaim, remembering Justus’s nickname for her.

  “It’s Brieanna now,” she corrects me. “I’m too grown up for Brie-Bear.”

  I school my features into seriousness. “Of course, Brieanna.”

  Brie turns to her friends, and her shyness melts away as they squeal over the latest music vid by their favorite band.

  “Mom, this is Joan,” Justus says, leading me toward a Molly with carefully styled hair and an aqua silk scarf pinned around her neck.

  “Thank you for having me, ma’am,” I say formally, and Justus’s mom gives me an approving nod.

  “Someone taught you manners. Maybe you’ll prove yourself worthy of my boy here.”

  Justus gives his mom a brief glare, but it holds no heat.

  “Don’t scare her away,” he whispers under his breath to his mom as he ushers me away.

  “She didn’t,” I whisper in his ear, enjoying how my breath makes him shiver. “I understand why I have to prove myself to your family, and you’re worth the effort.”

  Justus rewards me with a smile that is dazzling. We almost crash into his dad, who I immediately recognize as my savior from the night with Adam and the Mac who spoke to me at the rally outside the Evolved police station.

  “Thank you, sir,” I say. “Your reflexes are remarkable, and I am so grateful for the risk you took to help me.”

  The warmth in Justus’s father’s responding smile puts me at ease. “Call me Aft.”

  “I’m impressed by how fast you got yourself inside that party,” I admit.

  “My network is very wide. Almost every Throwback in the country believes that we need major change. But we need the right people to lend their strengths to our cause in order to overthrow those in power in a way that is peaceful,” he says, his eyes searching mine.

  “Dad, stop,” Justus says, tensing.

  I shift on my feet, uncomfortable. “As grateful as I am for your help, sir, I’m already part of a group I believe in. But maybe we can work together.”

  “He can’t help himself. He’s always in recruiting mode, even at a party,” Justus’s mom says, interrupting us.

  Aft’s face breaks into a warm smile. “You are right, of course. This is a celebration. We’ll talk again soon, Joan. I can see that your heart wants what is right. I know you’ll find a place for yourself in the revolution that is coming.”

  Aft gives me a final nod and lets his wife lead him away. The tension leaves my muscles, and I mingle with Justus’s family and friends. The music and chatter carry my mind away from my trouble, with a little help from the drink that Aft gives to me during dinner. It’s sweet and tastes faintly of alcohol.

  As the party begins to die down, Justus pulls me into a room that contains two sets of bunk beds.

  “Welcome to my palace,” he jokes.

  “There are four of you in one room? How do you breathe?” I ask, trying to imagine sharing this cramped space with three other people.

  “It’s fun, like camping. We shared toys when we were little and swap stories now that we’re older,” Justus says, throwing himself on one of the beds.

  I settle beside him. “Does anyone snore?”

  Justus laughs. “Yes. And sometimes someone farts on your pillow. It isn’t all enjoyable.”

  Justus and I lie back, sharing his small pillow. When
he turns to face me, his eyes transfix me. I decide that I could stare into them forever and never be able to count all of the shades of color there.

  “The first time I talked to you, after you protected Brie, I knew I was in the presence of someone extraordinary. I think I was so hard on you because you were unreachable, and I wanted you in my life.”

  His fingers lace with mine, and the energy moving between us makes me feel drunk. “I still cringe when I remember what a pompous ass I was that night.”

  “You weren’t an ass. You were being you. Pure and strong and reckless.” Justus swallows, and his breathing quickens. “You’re the only person with the guts to speak up for what is right and what is true. You never let other people’s authority or opinions stop you. You’re above the petty crap that makes up most of people’s lives. I want to know you. All of you.”

  The words escape my lips before my brain fully registers them. “I love you.”

  When did those words become true? When he danced with me? When I saw him protecting the kids in the Lab? When his body pressed against mine on my motorcycle as we evaded the police? Justus’s pupils dilate, and I panic. I want to crawl under his bed, humiliated, until his warm hand squeezes mine.

  “Until you, I thought that life only held disappointing surprises,” Justus says. “I’m so glad to be wrong. I love you right back, Joan.”

  Our foreheads touch, and I nearly leap off the bed when the door to Justus’s room opens.

  “Oops,” Harriet says.

  Mason is with her, and they’re holding hands.

  “We’ll go,” Mason says quickly.

  “No, we should stay,” Harriet says. “Joan and I have a lot to tell you both.”

  With the mood officially assassinated and buried in a shallow grave, Harriet and I launch into the plan for Circe Night.

  At the end, Justus is still staring at me like we’re alone in his room. “I’m going in with you.”

  “Crew has already decided who gets the tickets to the event. He has strategic reasons for who he’s chosen.”

  “Then I’ll find my own way in. But you’re not going into this without me. Not again.”

 

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