The Gender Plan

by Bella Forrest

  “Okay, so, in theory, what is the minimum amount of time the Matrians would need before they would actually be able to begin dumping something in there?”

  “Seventy-two hours, give or take.”

  That meant that if they were trying to crack the system, they had at least twenty-four hours on us—closer to forty-eight at this point. “Thank you,” I said. Licking my lips, I considered the puzzle. “Let’s pretend they are doing something at the plant. Do we think Elena would be trying to kill or incapacitate?”

  “Wouldn’t she just want to kill everyone?” said Amber, swiveling from side to side in the computer chair she was spread out in. “I mean, if she does, she gets the land. In fact, why are we assuming she’s doing something to the water? How do we know she’s not trying to demolish the plant, leave everyone here to die of dehydration?”

  “But she loses any experienced farmers, as well as the source of water with which to grow the crops,” said Viggo, crossing his arms across his chest. “Considering Patrus has the best farmland, I’d doubt she’d want to lose either.”

  “The farmers are already missing,” Thomas pointed out. “I mean, some of them could’ve traveled to the city, but Mr. Kaplan was grabbed. No reason to think she wouldn’t have collected the others as well.”

  “If she did in fact capture them, then that would mean she could kill everyone else here without damaging her plan,” said Ms. Dale. “If anything, it would be simpler. She could just send Matrians over here to start taking over and restore the infrastructure with the Patrian farmers as their captive guides.”

  “Actually, I doubt very much it is poison,” announced Thomas. “The amount needed to poison the water at a concentration high enough to be effective would be extremely difficult to achieve.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but that’s not necessarily true,” a voice behind me spoke. I turned and looked at Dr. Tierney, who was standing in the little dinette area, a mug of coffee cradled in her hands. If she was made uncomfortable by everyone looking at her, she didn’t show it. “There are certain toxins that would be effective, even if only a microscopic amount were used. But, I do think it might be possible that she wouldn’t even use poison.”

  “Why not?” I asked, curious to hear her reasoning.

  “Because she’d never be able to cover that up from her own people.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear it from the simplicity of her argument. She was right, of course. Elena had too many people on this—there was no way she’d be able to hide mass genocide. And she still had her own reputation in Matrus to uphold. My former home. They hadn’t seen our video, and Elena would take pains to ensure that they wouldn’t. But simply killing everyone in Patrus and then taking over? There would be no way to explain it. That would possibly thwart her future plans, especially if the people decided to oust her.

  So, if they were dumping something, it had to be something that would incapacitate the Patrians. Or worse.

  “What if it’s the Benuxupane?” I asked, looking around the room. “It would make sense, right? Make the population more complicit with her demands?”

  “That wouldn’t work either,” said Dr. Tierney. She moved across the room to an empty chair between Thomas and Amber, dropping into it with a sigh. “As good as that idea is, they can’t have had time to prepare a stockpile large enough to dose an entire population.”

  Viggo sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “The other problem with using the Benuxupane is that it doesn’t help her public image either. It would cause a panic in Matrus if she did that.”

  I nodded in agreement, and then sighed. We’d tried to make an argument for going to the plant, but wound up starting to convince ourselves that maybe there wasn’t anything more going on there than a bunch of stranded wardens. It was odd, yes, but at the same time…

  “There’s still a dozen things they could be doing there,” Viggo went on. “Sabotaging systems so that the water halts temporarily, or maybe even trying to rig it so it seems like the system failed. What if they reversed the system and somehow started to drag water in from Veil River? She could chalk it up to an unfortunate accident.”

  “There’s no way for water from the river to get into the water in the plant,” said Thomas. “I considered that option, but the pipes leading from the plant to the river for disposal hang over the river, to prevent any chance of contamination.”

  A sharp rapping sound punctuated Thomas’ remark, and I shifted in my seat, surprise rolling over me as I saw Henrik leaning a shoulder against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. “Is this a private party, or can I join?”

  “Henrik,” Ms. Dale breathed, already halfway around the table in her hurry to get to him. “You really shouldn’t be out of bed,” she chided. Henrik smiled fondly at her, his face softening slightly. He held up an arm as she drew close, slipping it over her shoulder.

  “I’m fine, Mel,” he replied, his voice soft. I exchanged glances with Viggo, who mouthed the word ‘Mel’ to me, his eyes as shocked as mine must have been, and I couldn’t hide the smile on my face. “And you guys have been talking so loudly, it’s been impossible to get my mandatory bedrest.”

  “Dr. Tierney, back me up here. He really shouldn’t be—”

  “Actually, Ms. Dale, I told Henrik he should be getting up and moving around at this point. Although, he is confined to the house.” Dr. Tierney shot Henrik a stern look, and in response he gave her a lazy salute. Ms. Dale’s mouth was pinched, and I could tell she was biting her tongue to keep from arguing with the doctor.

  “Is that what I look like when people are thwarting my plans to keep you healthy?” Viggo asked me, his eyes glittering with humor, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper.

  I gave him a considering look, and then shook my head. “You look grumpier, more like a caveman.”

  He laughed, once, and my smile grew. Then he was gone—up and holding out his chair for Henrik. The older man smiled as he approached, and the two drew in for a quick hug. I shifted my seat over a little as he lowered himself in.

  Seeing him out of the bed was good. He looked less like he was on his deathbed, and more like the strong, imposing, grandfatherly type I had always seen him as. But still, there was a fragility in him, in how he lowered himself down into the chair in slow motion, or how he seemed winded, in spite of how short the walk was from the hall entrance to Viggo’s chair.

  I got out of my seat to make room for Ms. Dale, and moments later I was sitting where she originally had been—opposite Viggo and me—with Viggo leaning in behind me, holding the back of my chair with both his hands. Henrik took a moment to settle in, and then looked around the table with a bemused twinkle in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind that I was eavesdropping. It was kind of hard not to before you all stopped arguing. Mind if I offer some insight?”

  Nobody objected. Who among us had ever had a problem with Henrik’s advice? He’d even been able to talk Amber down when she was in a murderous rage.

  After taking a look around the room full of nods, Henrik began, “You guys have been debating this plant thing to death, and honestly, right now, it doesn’t matter. You aren’t in the city, and you won’t be in the city until you can get the rebels on your side. And we won’t have that unless you have something to offer.”

  “We are planning to offer weapons, but that’s about all we have,” said Ms. Dale.

  “Actually, you have more than you think. You have Thomas.”

  “Thomas?” I said, just as Thomas said, “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” Henrik confirmed with a nod. “Or rather, your access to the cameras in the city. You can offer them intel on something they desperately need—the city itself. Matrians, movements of rogue factions, even this water treatment plant.”

  “But all my stuff… it’s in the city. In my safe house. When I left the sewers, I disconnected it so Desmond couldn’t have access to it.”

  “Could someone put it back together?”

&nb
sp; Thomas hesitated, and then nodded, tugging his shirt down over his paunch. “Yes. Provided nothing has been damaged.”

  “That’s where you start, then. If you give them that gift, then they might be willing to get us more intel on the plant.”

  I opened my mouth. Then I shut it. It was as good as plans got, all things considered. And it was an idea we hadn’t even thought of. Looking around the room, it wasn’t hard to see that everyone was in agreement.

  “It’s good to have you back, Henrik,” announced Viggo from behind me.

  “It’s good to be back, my boy,” he said with a wink.

  15

  Viggo

  “Are you really sure that you want to go?”

  I turned and smiled when I saw Violet stepping down off the porch. I gave the bag I had been stuffing into the trunk of the car another shove. “Somebody’s got to go,” I said. “Might as well be me.”

  “Yeah, but it’s Maxen,” she replied, her eyes rolling and a look of perfect distaste dramatizing her face.

  I fought off the urge to laugh, but a small chuckle slipped through. “You better not make that face when Maxen gets here,” I warned her playfully, taking a step forward and closing the distance between us.

  She stuck out her hip and rested her fist on it. “I never agreed to those terms!”

  “You will,” I promised darkly. She lifted a challenging eyebrow and took a step closer, her face angled up to meet my gaze, just within the reach of my arms but not touching me yet.

  “Is that a threat?”

  I smiled, a lazy, slow, predatory smile, all of my teeth showing. “Just a promise, love. Just a promise.”

  “Hmmm…” Her eyes narrowed to silver slits, her finger tapping her chin. “All right, then. But if you’re making me promises, will you promise not to punch the king if he annoys you?”

  “Of course not. But I do promise to feel really bad about it afterward. Well… maybe not really bad. Maybe just a smidge.”

  Her chuckle was low and husky, and after keeping her body inches away from mine for so many long, agonizing moments, she pressed in close, wrapping her arms around my waist. “It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?”

  She wasn’t wrong. We were moving today, and we’d managed to secure a call with the rebel faction leaders in the city later in the evening. Technically, early morning. Ms. Dale had managed to find several farmhouses that suited our needs nearer to the city, and, after some debate, we had decided to use them as our new base of operations to be in a closer position if we had to go into the city.

  But that meant our small army was being pared down to three little teams. Which meant a lot of coordination, planning, and sheer madness for those in charge. Namely, Violet. I leaned over and pressed my lips against her forehead. “I should be asking if you want to change jobs, huh?”

  Violet laughed and shook her head. “You’re being a very good fiancé,” she said, “but I’ve got it under control.”

  I beamed at the praise, fighting off the urge to say ‘I know.’ As much as I knew she’d laugh, I didn’t want to let humor get in the way of what I wanted to talk to her about. I pressed her tighter to me and then sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She leaned back in my arms, her eyes studying my face. I returned her look, not letting it deter me. “Viggo, I told you, I don’t want to—”

  “You woke up covered in sweat last night, Violet. Your breathing was labored, and you were crying. Was it… Was it about the guard at Ashabee’s?”

  Violet looked away, but not before I could see the flash of horror on her face. She pulled back slightly, and then completely, crossing her arms and moving away from me. She stopped after a few paces, and I waited for her to push through whatever she was processing.

  After several painfully long heartbeats, she turned back and sighed. “Yes, it was the warden. I just… I can’t stop seeing her face, every time I close my eyes. The smell… I can still smell it. I’m fine when I’m awake—it’s like it didn’t even happen unless I really think about it. But when I go to sleep…”

  She sighed again, her arms twitching in frustration. I closed the distance between us again to grab her hand, pressing it flat between my own. She rocked back and forth on her feet, her eyes distant and vacant. “Hey,” I soothed, reaching out with one hand to cup her cheek. Her eyes danced back, and I could see the tears there. My heart bled for her, and I bent over and gently pressed kisses to her forehead, her eyebrows, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and then, finally, a small chaste kiss to her lips. “I know exactly how you feel.”

  “Ian wasn’t your fault,” Violet said automatically, crushing herself to my chest. “He wasn’t.”

  I shook my head, my heart a stone in my chest, listening, but not really understanding. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what I see in my dreams. How it feels.”

  She didn’t respond, but then again, this time, she didn’t need to. We just held each other, drawing strength from the support and compassion we found in our embrace. It helped soothe the pain a little, and gave us this one small place of solace that we could only find in the other. I didn’t know what I would do without her, and I didn’t want to find out.

  I could happily lose all awareness of time, standing there. Yet, as inevitable as the sun rising in the east, it was impossible to prevent the moment from being shattered by the eagerness of a young man hellbent on being the perfect soldier.

  “Hey, guys!” shouted Jay as he rushed over, a long duffel bag swinging casually from his hand. “Whatcha doing?”

  Violet nuzzled in a little closer, her eyes still closed, and I could tell she was content to ignore Jay in order to steal a few more moments with me. It made me smile, and even, just for a moment, consider doing the same. But in the end, I couldn’t—it was Jay.

  “Talking about politics,” I said sarcastically, and Tim, who was following Jay at a more leisurely pace, snorted. He moved up around Jay, pushing my bag deeper into the small trunk, and then took the oblong bag from Jay.

  “Yeah? I bet you guys were smooching. Which brings me to an important question! Can you guys explain sex to me?”

  I froze, feeling very much like a deer facing an oncoming truck. Looking down at Violet, I saw her fighting back a laugh, burying her face into my chest so hard, it felt like she was physically trying to shove her head into my ribcage. I let out a little cough that turned to a laugh halfway through, aware of how uncomfortable and awkward it sounded, and then cleared my throat.

  “I… um… What do you want to know?”

  Jay shifted uncomfortably, and then ran his hand through his hair, his shoulders shrugging halfheartedly. “I don’t really know,” he admitted honestly. “I heard someone say ‘sex,’ and then say a bunch of stuff that I didn’t really understand. I know it has something to do with a—”

  “And this is the point where I leave,” Violet practically sang, her eyes sparkling in humor. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  “You cannot leave me like this,” I hissed, taking a step forward to grab her arm.

  She danced away, moving faster than she probably should have, and gave me a little wink. “Relax! You got this.”

  “But wait, Violet… don’t you want to tell Tim? I mean… he should know too.” Jay’s stare was wide-eyed with concern over Violet’s looming departure.

  Tim snorted again, laughing as he finished loading the last bag and closed the trunk. “It okay. I know sex.”

  I pressed my lips together, trying to fight the urge to laugh. Tim’s English was fragmented as a result of years of isolation in his solitary confinement. I knew—absolutely knew—that he did not mean it how it sounded.

  Violet cleared her throat, clasping her hands in front of her, her smile widening. “Our orphanage had sex education once a year,” she announced primly. “It was mandatory. But the first time I heard it, I was so horrified that I had to tell somebody about it all… And my brother was the only one around. Uh, he didn’t
seem too traumatized.”

  With that, she waggled her fingers and disappeared into the house. I gaped at her departure, and then turned to Tim. The young man tossed his head, and then gave me a little shrug. “Busy,” he said, before turning and ambling away, trying to whistle.

  Which left me with Jay, who was staring up at me expectantly. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and then met his gaze. “Let’s talk about it in the car, buddy. We need to get out of here soon anyway.”

  If possible, Jay became even more eager. “All right. How can I help?”

  “Go inside and do a last check with Violet and Ms. Dale—see if there is any more leftover equipment for us to share or any final jobs we might be needed for before we go.”

  Jay gave a little salute, and then bounded off, hot on Violet’s trail. I smiled as I watched him go, wondering how I was ever going to give him the talk, and then turned toward the barn. Owen was busy there, carefully packing rifles into a bag, oblivious that I was only a minute’s walk away.

  I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind from the anger that was beginning to build in me just watching him, and then walked toward him. At first, he didn’t notice me. He was so absorbed with his task of breaking down the gun and making sure the chamber was clear, magazine out. When he did notice me, he froze, and then slowly sat the gun down, standing up from the bench he had been perched on. I stopped just on the other side of the table, keeping a healthy distance between us.

  Owen met my gaze, his face and eyes revealing nothing as to how he was feeling. I just stared at him, still not entirely sure how to say what I had to say. After a moment, he ran his hand through his hair and reached down to fiddle with the gun he had been breaking down. “Just say it,” he said, after a moment.