The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)

Tiffany’s round face froze for a second, and then she nodded. “Right, well, from what I’ve pieced together, your video got to every stadium around the city. The Matrians tried to kill anyone who saw it, but there were just too many people for them to handle—and the attack pushed them over the edge. Rioters took to the streets, setting fires and targeting any Matrians they could find. They’d kill them, take their guns, and then use them to kill the next group. By the morning, several troops of Matrian wardens were killed. Then, during the day, the wardens retaliated. They fired guns into apartment buildings and into crowds of scared people on the street, before racing away. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told.

“The guard posts they set up leading in and out of the city have been turned inward, and are now preventing people from leaving. But most of the Matrian forces have been spotted leaving the city, save for a handful who got surrounded and caught up at the water treatment plant. Everything seemed like it might calm down once they left, but that’s when people figured out that they weren’t allowed to leave. And when the power went out?” Tiffany’s face fell, her large eyes luminous with unshed tears. “Then people just started fighting each other. Everyone’s trapped in here, Violet. And they’re scared, and they’re armed, and they’re violent. Gangs have been staking out territories, making it difficult to move through the city unless you’re part of a larger, more armed group. Women are getting grabbed off the street by a faction of the Porteque gang, and they’ve staked out a bunch of apartment buildings on the south side of the city. Other gangs are cropping up left and right, fighting for territory and food.”

“Tiffany, how did you come by this information?” Ms. Dale’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously at the screen.

She blinked and then licked her lips. “Well, I managed to locate some people who… well, they’re not a gang. They’re rebels.”

“What, pray tell, is the difference?”

“The rebels are trying to help the people,” Tiffany replied without the slightest pause. “They provide safe zones, forage for food, and keep guard over the people who can’t fight. They are more organized than the gangs, and they’ve been focusing most of their fighting on the Matrian forces. There were more groups in the early days, but the three I am in contact with now are the largest in the city.”

That was interesting. I took a step closer to the table, pressing in between Thomas and Amber. “What can you tell us about them?”

“Well, they were operating independently of each other. I, uh, actually sort of got them talking about unifying, but there are… some political differences that are being hashed out.”

“Political differences?”

“Just ideas on how they want to proceed after they get the Matrians out. It sounds stupid, I know, but they don’t want to unify unless they are all on the same page with how things would be handled in the aftermath.”

“That is literally what putting the cart before the horse means,” scoffed Amber, tossing her head, her mop of red curls dancing.

“I know, I tried to tell them that, but… yeah.” Tiffany’s face was a resigned mask that only made her look even more exhausted. I admired the way she was holding it together, all things considered.

“Is any one of the leaders looking like they are going to be the leader? You know—the one that the others defer to?” Viggo had stepped in behind me, and I leaned back against him as he spoke, enjoying the solid feel of him.

“Mags,” replied Tiffany, once again automatically. “It’s strange, I know, but she is magnificent. And terrifying. She’s not very tall, but she is a whole lot of mean. Well, not mean, exactly, but direct. Painfully so. I’ve never quite met anyone like her.”

“I like her already,” said Ms. Dale, an unusually smug grin on her face. “Could always use a few more girls filled with piss and vinegar around here.”

I chuckled at Ms. Dale’s quip. I had to admit, I liked the sound of this Mags too. I was just curious about all of the… political discussions that these newly minted rebels were having. They were already constructing plans for afterward, but as far as I knew, our group had never even talked about it. Then again, I’d never thought that after might come this quickly.

“Do you think they’d be willing to meet with us?” asked Viggo. “So we can talk about us breaking the Matrian blockade together? If we pooled our resources, then maybe we could help achieve both our goals.”

I looked at Viggo and smiled. His eyes were glued to the screen, giving it his full attention as he waited for Tiffany’s reply. Her frown deepened. After a moment, she inhaled. “I might be able to arrange it, but I would need to reveal key bits of information. Namely the fact that we’re holding King Maxen prisoner.”

“Are you asking for permission?” asked Ms. Dale.

“Yes.”

“If you think it will help prove who we are, then do it.”

Nobody objected to Ms. Dale’s directive, not even Thomas. It was a calculated risk, but one worth taking if it got us allies inside the city.

“I’m on it,” Tiffany said. “I’ll try to send you a message in twelve hours.”

“Good luck,” I said, right before the screen shut off.

“Do you really want to go into the city?” asked Amber, turning in her chair to look at Viggo.

“I do. The people there need help, and I think if we can break this Matrian blockade, then we can start getting things calmed down.” Viggo’s voice was firm, brimming with conviction. I knew he was worried about the people trapped inside, and feeling more than a little responsible for their predicament.

“Has anyone considered why they are keeping people from leaving the city?” asked Thomas. “To me, that is the more critical question.”

“If I had to guess, then I’d say it’s to buy time while Elena finds another way to subdue the populace. Knowing her, she’s trying to do it as efficiently as possible.” Ms. Dale’s mouth was pinched as she spoke, and I could practically taste her disdain.

We all fell silent for a moment, and then Ms. Dale sat upright, her back going ramrod stiff. I recognized her posture: she had just had a thought. “The water treatment plant,” she said. Turning, she speared Thomas with a look. “Do you have the blueprints for that?”

“I do, but why? Tiffany said that the Matrians had taken refuge up there after being cut off from the retreating forces. They’re probably waiting for a rescue team, or possibly even an evacuation.”

Ms. Dale shook her head, a line forming between her eyebrows. “For over twenty-four hours? I don’t think so—they’re going to do something to the water.”

“Are you joking?” exclaimed Thomas, his lips twitching in what I presumed was humor. It was hard to tell, rarely having seen it in Thomas before. “The plant is almost impossible to tamper with. I researched this in painstaking detail when I was looking into ways to dismantle Patrian systems, and I estimated it would take a minimum of forty soldiers. And even then, they would need three to four days before they could do anything to the drinking water. It’s not possible.”

“Did you ever tell Desmond this?”

“Of course I did, I… Oh.” Thomas’s face fell as he settled back into the chair he’d been gradually inching forward in. “I see what you mean now.”