Студопедия

Главная страница Случайная страница

КАТЕГОРИИ:

АвтомобилиАстрономияБиологияГеографияДом и садДругие языкиДругоеИнформатикаИсторияКультураЛитератураЛогикаМатематикаМедицинаМеталлургияМеханикаОбразованиеОхрана трудаПедагогикаПолитикаПравоПсихологияРелигияРиторикаСоциологияСпортСтроительствоТехнологияТуризмФизикаФилософияФинансыХимияЧерчениеЭкологияЭкономикаЭлектроника






Глава 22. We are herded like sheep through the daunting grey doors of the Abnegation headquarters






We are herded like sheep through the daunting grey doors of the Abnegation headquarters. The metal barrel of the Dauntless guard's gun dig into my back, reminding me that if I were to resist, a bullet would be embedded in my flesh. Tris leans heavily against me, weakened greatly by the wound in her shoulder. At the sight of rivers of crimson blood trickling down her back, my heart aches, for I am unable to lessen her pain. I despise this feeling of utter uselessness.

The guards press us through a door flanked by two Dauntless soldiers. Jeanine, leader of Erudite, sits behind a desk with a phone pressed to her ear. It angers me that she has simply allowed herself to march into the headquarters of another faction and intrude with a palpable air of ignorance to the unwelcome state of her presence. Even more so, the fact that she recognizes her unwanted presence and basks in the knowledge that nothing can be done about it because she is the puppeteer of an immensely dangerous army.

" Well, send some of them back on the train, then, " she says while fingering the pair of glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose. " It needs to be well guarded, it's the most important part—I'm not talk—I have to go." She spares a hurried glance in our direction and hastily shuts her phone as if she doesn't want us to overhear the rest of her conversation.

" Divergent rebels, " one of the guards relays.

" Yes, I can see that, " Jeanine says impatiently. She makes a show of removing her glasses, folding them, and setting them on the desk, drawing out each movement as if she is dragging her arms through sand.

" You, " she says, wriggling a boney finger at Tris. " I expected. All the trouble with your aptitude test result made me suspicious from the beginning. But you…"

She turns to me, pursing her lips and shaking her head as if she were scolding a misbehaving child.

" You, Tobias—or should I call you Four? —managed to elude me. Everything about you checked out: test results, initiation simulations, everything. But here you are nonetheless, " her steel grey eyes burn into me, and frankly, her stare makes me quite uncomfortable, but I don't let it show. " Perhaps you could explain to me how that is? "

" You're the genius, " I say. " Why don't you tell me? "

Her lips curl into a content smile; she hadn't expected me to answer the question. " My theory is that you really do belong in Abnegation. That your Divergence is weaker." She says as matter-of-factly, as if she has just provided the answer to a question of astronomical importance and expects to be rewarded for her intelligence.

" Your powers of deductive reasoning are stunning. Consider me awed." I scoff. " Now that your intelligence has been verified, you might want to get on with killing us." I sigh in defeat and close my eyes. Never in a million years would I have foreseen this ending. " You have a lot of Abnegation leaders to murder, after all."

My words have no effect on Jeanine; she just keeps on smiling. I wonder whether she really is human or if she is just a mechanic invention that the Erudite have created. Tris slumps against me, and I slide an arm around her for support.

" Don't be silly. There is no rush, " she says with mock pleasantry and a seemingly harmless smile plastered on her face. It seems her features are rarely devoid of her twisted grin; it must be exhausting to keep up the friendly faç ade. " You are both here for an extremely important purpose. You see, it perplexed me that the Divergent were immune to the serum that I developed, so I have been working to remedy that. I thought I might have, with the last batch, but as you know, I was wrong. Luckily I have another batch to test."

" Why bother? " Tris says, speaking for the first time since we have been ushered into the building.

Jeanine turns to Tris with a smirk that reminds me so much of the way Eric has looked at her in the past that I tighten my arm around her waist to keep her from being swallowed by Jeanine's hungry eyes.

" I have had a question since I began the Dauntless project, and it is this." She steps around the desk, revealing a blue dress that clothes her from her shoulders to her knees. The colour looks out of place. If the walls had eyes, I'm sure they would be blinded by the brilliant cerulean hue after seeing and growing accustomed to the neutral grey of Abnegation attire. " Why are most of the Divergent weak-willed, God-fearing nobodies from Abnegation, of all factions? "

" Weak-willed, " I scoff. " It requires a strong will to manipulate a simulation, last time I checked. Weak-willed is mind-controlling an army because it's too hard for you to train one yourself."

" I am not a fool, " she says. " A faction of intellectuals is no army. We are tired of being dominated by a bunch of self-righteous idiots who reject wealth and advancement, but we couldn't do this on our own. And your Dauntless leaders were all too happy to oblige me if I guaranteed them a place in our new, improved government."

" Improved, " I laugh. I wonder if in the midst of her ploy to take over the government she lost her reasoning and humanity somewhere in the planning process.

" Yes, improved, " Jeanine says. " Improved, and working toward a world in which people will live in wealth, comfort, and prosperity."

" At whose expense? " Tris slurs. Her injury must be taking a dreadful toll on her body. " All that wealth…doesn't come from nowhere."

" Currently, the factionless are a drain on our resources, " Jeanine states. " As is Abnegation. I am sure that once the remains of your old faction are absorbed into the Dauntless army, Candor will cooperate and we will finally be able to get on with things."

" Get on with things, " I repeat indignantly.

The factionless and Abnegation – nearly a third of our population – eradicated for the needless prosperity of a populace that has enjoyed many spoils and has never truly known despair. A curtain of brilliant crimson trickles down behind my eyes like a vividly frightening vision of the deaths that will no doubt follow under Jeanine's command.

" Make no mistake." I shout, unable to suppress my emotions any longer. " You will be dead before the day is out, you—"

" Perhaps if you could control your temper, " Jeanine interjects, " you would not be in this situation to begin with, Tobias."

" I'm in this situation because you put me here, " I snap. " The second you orchestrated an attack against innocent people."

" Innocent people." Jeanine snorts. " I find that a little funny, coming from you. I would expect Marcus's son to understand that not all those people are innocent. Can you tell me honestly that you wouldn't be happy to discover that your father was killed in the attack? "

" No, " I reluctantly admit through gritted teeth. " But at least his evil didn't involve the widespread manipulation of an entire faction and the systematic murder of every political leader we have."

Jeanine glares at me challengingly and I glower at her with a fierceness that hopefully conveys the anger that is rolling inside me. If I weren't the only thing that is keeping Tris from crumpling on the floor, I would have lunged at Jeanine long ago.

After a few tense seconds, Jeanine clears her throat and says, " What I was going to say is that soon, dozens of the Abnegation and their young children will be my responsibility to keep in order, and it does not bode well for me that a large number of them may be Divergent like yourselves, incapable of being controlled by the simulations."

She paces back and forth in front of us. Each time she nears me, I catch a whiff of the stinging scent of her perfume. I resist the urge to cover my nose.

" Therefore, " she continues. " It was necessary that I develop a new form of simulation to which they are not immune. I have been forced to reassess my own assumptions. That is where you come in. You are correct to say that you are strong-willed. I cannot control your will. But there are a few things I can control."

She stops pacing and turns to us, folding her hands together neatly. Tris leans her head against my shoulder, and I welcome the gentle pressure.

" I can control what you see and hear, " Jeanine says. " So I created a new serum that will adjust your surroundings to manipulate your will. Those who refuse to accept our leadership must be closely monitored."

She turns to me, grinning all the while, and says, " You will be the first test subject, Tobias. Beatrice, however…" she smiles at Tris the way one would smile if one were offering a child a toy. " You are too injured to be of much use to me, so your execution will occur at the conclusion of this meeting."

I hear my breathing stop without feeling it.

I am bursting with memories of the past few weeks: the shrill laugh of Tris, the first jumper, the way the moon reflected in her eyes on the ferris wheel, her lips brushing mine softly in the dark as we find each other by scent and touch. The memories fit together like shards of a stained glass window, but no matter how many times I rearrange the pieces, the image still looks unfinished. A picture, shattered. A story incomplete. I refuse to believe our tale ends tonight at the hands of an unrelenting woman.

" No, " I say. My voice comes out rattled even though I'm trying to control the quivering muscles in my throat. " I would rather die."

" I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in the matter, " Jeanine says.

My eyes cloud over as a spectrum of emotions bubble up inside me. Rage at Jeanine for treating us like mere puppets ready to be toyed with and disposed of at her will, grief for all of the Abnegation who have lost their lives meaninglessly at the hands of Dauntless soldier who aren't even aware of the massacre occurring at their hands, and pure anguish at the thought of losing Tris.

I take Tris's face in my hands and pour every unspoken word and every emotion that I can muster into one last kiss.

Now, I don't know why I am able to see the Milky Way on clear nights, or why when I stand at the top of the tallest skyscraper I feel so small, but I do know in that moment, clear as glass, that I shouldn't ever take for granted falling asleep next to the person that I care about most, hearing her breath come and go.

So I fight. I fight for her, if nothing else.

I lunge at Jeanine, whose face wears an expression of absolute shock as my hands close around her throat. Dauntless guards jump on me immediately, pushing and pulling until they are able to pry my hands away from Jeanine. They shove me carelessly onto the floor, pinning me to the gleaming tiles with their hands and knees.

So much for faction before blood.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tris being slammed into the wall by another Dauntless soldier. I want to scream out, to tell them to handle her gently because she is injured, but then I remember these are not the same Dauntless that I greet every day in the Pit. My heart clenches inside my chest; this entire faction is rotting from the inside out.

Jeanine walks towards me with a syringe in her hand. In one last attempt to escape, I elbow one of the guards in the face only to have the heel of his gun slammed into the side of my head. In the midst of my struggle, I am painfully aware of a sharp pinch on my neck.

I see a lock of blonde hair and two pale grey eyes staring back at me. Eyes as large as the moon. The lights overhead dim, or maybe it's just a trick of my eye; I'm not sure anymore. The dying light washes the walls and objects with graying echoes of colour, and the edges blur together until I can no longer distinguish one object from the next – except one. A lock of blonde hair, two pale grey eyes set in a face of porcelain skin; the pinnacle of life in a dying world.

I try to stay awake, to fight the simulation serum and avoid becoming another pawn in Jeanine's game, but it's like I'm sinking in quick sand – the more I resist, the faster the serum spreads.

In the end, all I have left to hold on to are a pair of iridescent eyes, clear as a summer night sky. Eyes as large as the moon.

And then nothing.

 


Поделиться с друзьями:

mylektsii.su - Мои Лекции - 2015-2024 год. (0.01 сек.)Все материалы представленные на сайте исключительно с целью ознакомления читателями и не преследуют коммерческих целей или нарушение авторских прав Пожаловаться на материал