Chapter 22
The next week passes without incident. I start bringing Xavier along on my work assignment and am pleasantly surprised to find him and Zak hitting it off.
The first time we walked in, the scruffy weapons instructor wasn’t enthused.
He narrowed his eyes on Xavier and said, “I like you, Wren, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to give a prisoner access to firearms.”
“Probably not,” Xavier agreed. “But I’m Darlington’s new bodyguard, so…guess you’re stuck with me.”
“Bodyguard?” Zak echoed in amusement.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s just a bodyguard situation. We’re not screwing. She isn’t my type.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all,” Zak replied, at which point I sighed and apologized on Xavier’s behalf.
The funny thing is, Xavier is a far better instructor than I am. He’s a natural teacher, whereas I find it awkward to connect with people sometimes. By the end of the week, he’s not only impressed Zak but also won over some of the recruits. Uma now prefers to work with Xavier exclusively.
Tonight, I visit Kallister in his quarters before dinner to read more of my mother’s file.
I’ve been tackling it out of order. Probably not the most efficient method, but I’m a bit afraid to delve into some sections.
Like the transcripts of her Company interrogations, days before they executed her.
I don’t know how I’m going to feel seeing her own words on that page, imagining her voice saying them in my head, so I’ve been delaying it.
I spend the next hour reading up about Valterra Ridge while Kallister sits in the other room poring over a mission briefing. Afterward, I meet Xavier at the mess hall for dinner and endure his usual absurd stream of consciousness as we move through the line.
“And yeah, I get it,” he says in that aggravating way where he picks up some mysterious conversation he’s been having in his own head and continues it out loud as if I know what the hell he’s talking about.
“You get what?” I set a cup of coffee on my tray and wait for him to grab a drink.
“I know most of these people are ’fects—”
“Hey.” I punch him, and he nearly drops the glass of lager he’s pouring.
“Sorry. Mods. I know most of these people are Mods,” he corrects, suitably chastened. “But I’m not one of those dumbasses who thinks your blood is poison. All I’m saying is, there’s no reason for someone here not to screw me.”
“Why does it always lead back to sex with you? You weren’t like this at the Command base.”
“No, I just wasn’t like this to you.” He rolls his eyes. “Instructors aren’t gonna talk to recruits about their sex life.”
“Friends don’t need to, either,” I say helpfully.
“You’re already part of this. Don’t fight it.”
“Fine. So you don’t think our blood is poison. But have you ever hooked up with a Mod before?” I challenge.
“Statistically speaking, I’m sure I have. You know, given the astronomical number of lovers I’ve had,” he says solemnly, and I almost fall over laughing. “I don’t care if the person in my bed is psychic, Darlington, as long as they stay the hell out of mind and focus on my body.” He winks at me.
“All right, so now you just have to convince them that you’re not an evil Prime and deserve orgasms same as any other man.”
“Exactly.” He scans the room, nodding in approval when two very pretty women saunter in our direction. Oozing confidence, he flashes them a grin. “Ladies.”
They keep walking.
“Impressive,” I remark. “They’ll be in your bed in no time.”
There aren’t many empty tables left, so I think, Fuck it, and make a beeline for Gray and his crew.
I don’t usually join them if Xavier is with me, but I wouldn’t mind hitting Gray up for intel about why the Authority has been holed up in the war room all week.
When I asked Kallister, he gave a vague answer about unrest in the wards and refused to elaborate.
We receive several wary looks as we sit down, mostly from Evlynne and Neema. The others seem too distracted by the conversation we interrupted.
“I don’t understand why we can’t just move in and get them out,” Henley is saying. For once, there’s no mischief in his eyes. His expression is stony.
“Move in where?” I ask.
Gray glances over at me. “Shit’s been escalating in the labor camps since Travis Redden’s big speech about how all Primes should be afraid of having their minds corrupted. The last few check-ins from Mods at the Ice Canyon facility have been concerning.”
My shoulders go rigid. Ice Canyon is the salt mine in Ward A. That’s where Tana is being held.
“Oh, and you’ll love this,” Gray tells me. “The little general was promoted and now runs his own unit in Silver Block.”
“Roe?” I say, feigning surprise. Cross already told me about Roe’s promotion, but I would never betray his confidence.
“He was at the salt mine last night. Beat a Mod to death and almost killed another because they had the gall to defend themselves after a group of Primes came at them.”
Saint growls in displeasure, displaying rare anger. “Let’s just raid these camps and free all our people.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for weeks,” I remind Gray. “Tana is in Ice Canyon. Can’t we at least consider a rescue mission?” Every time I’ve brought this subject up to Kallister or Gray in the past, they’ve responded with the same familiar refrain about how it’s not that easy.
“It’s not that easy,” Gray says, and I have to grit my teeth.
But this time he actually elaborates. “The coal mine in Spearhead is surrounded by force fields. The camps in the south are too remote and heavily guarded, making them difficult to penetrate. With Ice Canyon, you’ve got the cliffs in the east, and we can’t get there by sea.
Not to mention the airspace is monitored so we can’t land too close to the mine. That means approaching on foot.”
“So we just let our people get killed and beaten to a pulp?” snaps Evlynne.
“We’re running a risk assessment.” He lifts his coffee to his lips and takes a sip, pensive. “We’ll probably come to a vote soon.”
“Send it to a vote now,” she retorts. “What was the point of blowing up their base if we weren’t going to immediately strike again afterward?”
For once, I’m in agreement with Evlynne. I don’t understand why we haven’t hit them with another attack.
“We’re facing an entire military,” Gray tells her. “We don’t have the numbers. A quick in-and-out air strike is one thing. Executing a successful extraction where everyone doesn’t wind up dead is a lot harder.”
“But you’re considering it?” I push.
“Of course. We can’t have our people dying in these camps. We need to get them out. The Authority recognizes that. We’ll run some recon missions this week, see what we’re dealing with.”
I give him a hopeful look. “How do you get assigned to recon?”
“You don’t.” Evlynne gives a derisive snort, while Neema snickers into her drink. “Nobody’s letting you on their recon detail, Darlington.”
I wait until after everyone scatters before I pull Gray aside. “What did she mean by that?” I demand.
He doesn’t even try to let me down gently. “It means none of the mission leads want you on their teams.”
My stomach clenches painfully. Well. That stings. I can shoot a gun better than any of the people here and none of them want me to watch their back?
“Yet,” he clarifies when he notes my expression.
“So it’s not because I can incite?”
“That might be the case for a couple of them, but what it comes down to is you’re untested in the field. You’ve never run ops in the wards before, and most leads won’t take a chance on a greenhorn until they prove themselves.”
“How can I prove myself if nobody takes a chance on me?” I bite my lip, trying not to show how upset I am. “What about you? Are you against working with me?”
“Of course not.” His features soften. “I’d take you in a heartbeat. But it’s not up to me. If it were a two-man mission and I was lead, sure. But the other leads have voiced their reluctance, and the Authority heeds what the majority wants.”
His answer brings a rush of unhappiness. Later, when I’m in bed trying to fall asleep, I can’t stop agonizing about it. I’m hurt, damn it. I feel like I’ve done something wrong. Like I need to constantly apologize for being able to incite.
I feel like I’m…chasing redemption, when there’s absolutely no reason for me to redeem myself. I’m not a traitor.
I’m not my mother.
I’m not my father.
I didn’t get those Mods at Valterra Ridge killed.
Yet they’ve left me this legacy of shame, and I can’t rid myself of it, not until I create a better legacy.
But how will that ever happen when nobody here is even willing to give me a chance?
I’m still moping about it the next morning, and since there’s nothing to do at the range, Xavier drags me out of our room and convinces me to take a walk on the mountain.
We’re only about ten minutes down the trail when Cross surprises me by reaching out.
He hasn’t been around much lately, and the silence has been wearing on me.
“You good, Dove?”
“Not really. You’ve been ignoring me.”
“I’m sorry.” I hear the regret in his tone. “I’m not doing it intentionally. I’ve been at the house with my mother.”
“How is she doing?” As Xavier walks on, I hang back and perch myself on a nearby boulder, wanting some privacy.
“The same.” There’s a beat, and I can feel his rising tension.
“My father’s here, too. We had to restrain him last night.
” His next pause is tinged with sadness.
“It’s so fucked up, Daisy. My parents are gone.
They’re both still alive, but they might as well be dead.
Sometimes I want to take my mom and disappear into the woods.
Or get on a plane, a boat, go down to Tierra Fe.
Fly to Carora and see what the hell is down there.
Just get her out of this city. But then I think, what’s the point?
She’s not even here. Her body is, but her mind is lost. My father’s even worse. ”
And both their minds were corrupted by Adrienne.
I almost blurt it out, reveal that Adrienne is also responsible for his mother’s corruption, but I curb the impulse. He’s suffering enough right now. I don’t want to make things worse.
“Running won’t solve anything,” I say instead. “The Company can’t remain in charge, Cross. Mods will never be safe as long as they are.”
“And if the Uprising is in charge? Will Primes be safe? Because there are more than a million Primes in this city and across the wards. Mods make up a fraction of the Continent’s population.”
“Whose fault is that?” I shoot back. “It was your father who orchestrated the Coup and the Silverblood Purge. At least when Severn was alive, both sides were living together.”
“You can’t actually be defending Severnism.”
“I’m not,” I say, frustration building inside me. I don’t want to argue about politics, about which oppressive regime is less oppressive. “Life is shit, okay? I just don’t enjoy hearing about your little brother beating a Mod to death at a labor camp.”
Cross’s sharp expletive echoes in my head. “When?”
“Last night. He killed someone at the salt mine.” I can’t stop the accusation from sliding out. “You said you would try to control Roe.”
“Can’t fucking do that when I’m cut out of the loop. I didn’t know about this.” He curses again. “I’ll speak to Travis.”
My anger fades. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I don’t miss the hard edge cutting into his voice now. “I’ll see what I can do about controlling Roe.”
Then he’s gone.
Teeth clenched, I rise and go find Xavier, who chuckles at my thunderous expression.
“I assume that was Cross you stopped to talk to?”
“Yes, and I don’t fucking get him. I don’t understand why he won’t just join the Uprising and leave his psychotic family behind.”
Xavier’s face softens. “Look, Cross is ruthless. He’ll kill to defend the people he loves, without hesitation. But he also has this maddening sense of right and wrong. Honor in war. If he believes the Uprising can’t be trusted, then I would trust his gut.”
“The problem is, the Primes in the city can’t be trusted, either.”
“Then I suppose it’s a question of the lesser of two evils.” Xavier grins at me. “Which side is less evil?”
“Fucked if I know.” I tip my head up at the sky. “Should head back before the sun sets—”
I’m cut off by a high-pitched scream that shatters the tranquility of the forest.