The Girl Who Dared to Endure (The Girl Who Dared #6)

That evening, Maddox, Dylan, and I made our way down from the Citadel, heading for Greenery 13. By random chance, both Dreyfuss and Plancett were there at that exact moment. Dreyfuss because he lived there with his daughter, and Plancett because it was time to harvest the wheat and corn they had spent the last few months producing.

Greenery 13—Biggins, as it was called—resided on the 135th level of the shell and required us to exit the Citadel and enter the shell to hitch a ride up. We emerged on a wide catwalk, where a line of green-clad workers were pulling or pushing wagons full of grain to the large service elevators, for distribution to the different departments. And though it was harvest season, the catwalks were awash with people moving this way and that, in the normal chaos of activity. Only the line remained uninterrupted, people keeping their distance so as not to interfere with workers doing their duties.

The three of us slipped into the stream of people and made our way toward the massive doors with the small, portly man painted over them. He was wearing a cheeky grin, which carved a massive dimple out of one cheek. I knew him as Caleb Biggins—the hero and namesake of Greenery 13—but couldn’t remember what he had done to get so famous.

The area in front of the greenery was packed with vendors, all of them selling baked goods. Already I could smell bread in the air. The promise of getting a warm slice with a pat of salted butter melting into it was so tantalizing that I almost considered stopping at the first stall I saw. Almost.

As the catwalk neared the wall of the greenery, the crowd of people naturally turned left to head toward the door, leading us to the stalls that were set up in front of the massive metal doors. We followed the sea of people until they slowly separated into rivers, and then trickled into streams, heading down this aisle or that in search of specific items on their shopping lists.

The largest throng of people were workers in green, returning from their deliveries, and we fell into line with them as they progressed down a central aisle toward the greenery doors.

The doors were fully open today, revealing a wide walkway that bridged the span of the shell and ended in yet another door, this one also open. I could hear the sounds of machines and workers calling to each other echoing through the wide-open space, but kept walking forward, toward the doors.

Inside, the machines used for separating the wheat from the chaff had been set up in several rows, and workers were operating them in sets of three, one man turning it on and off, the others hauling baskets up a small ladder to deposit them at the top of a chute. The machines whirred endlessly, spitting out small grains and dust while depositing the husks in the now-empty buckets placed off to the side, and adjusted by the man who was in charge of powering the machine. Several foremen—marked by yellow helmets—walked among them, barking orders. The Hands we were with headed directly for them, but I veered left, knowing from experience that the apartments for this floor were accessed by a door in the tunnel.

Sure enough, I spotted the door and control panel off to the left, and angled toward it, confident that Maddox and Dylan were behind me. Stopping at the door, I quickly pressed the button, and waited. My net began to buzz as the scanners set to work, and I waited patiently for the process to start and finish.

“Champion Liana Castell,” an automated male voice announced. “Authorized entry granted. Have a pleasant day.”

“Thanks,” I said as the door slid open, revealing a narrow series of stairs heading down. I followed them for two floors, and then opened a door at the end of them and entered the apartment floor. The apartment floor of each greenery took up an entire block of the shell and contained some of my favorite apartments in the Tower. They were always colorful and tended to have shelves filled with plants and plaques describing what the plant was and how to care for it. The lights were bright, enhanced with UV for the plants, and doors were almost always open, neighbors acting like family members.

I followed the signs to the nearest elevator station and took it down to the bottom floor, where the internal leads of the department lived. Dreyfuss’s daughter, Rachelle, was a head boss of Greenery 13, which afforded her the space to take her father in after he retired. This was where we’d find him.

The elevator slowed to a stop, revealing a long passage with doors on either side. I walked forward, following the numbers and stopping when I came to 135-5-D. I pressed the call button before I could start getting anxious about it.

Only then did I let some nervousness creep in. We were here to secretly steal some of his DNA to run it against the samples Dylan had collected, and there was a one-in-three chance that he was the father of a group of thirty or so undocs. I had to treat this delicately, because if we tipped him off, or he even got a glimmer of what we were up to, he’d notify the legacy group and we’d lose any chance of finding them.

Luckily, I had a cover story ready. I just prayed it would be enough to explain our presence here in a believable fashion. If he was who I suspected he was, he would still be suspicious—but also, I hoped, overconfident in how hidden he had been for the last twenty-five years.

The door slid open, an elderly man in his late fifties standing behind it. His face matched the picture we had on file, which meant I was looking at former Knight Elite Jathem Dreyfuss. His blond hair was mixed with gray and white, but his blue eyes were sharp.

“Champion Castell,” he said, a confused smile coming on his face. “I wasn’t expecting you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Greetings, former Knight Elite Dreyfuss,” I replied, forcing a smile of my own onto my face. “I’m sorry for stopping by without calling first, but truthfully, my schedule is never consistent these days, so setting an appointment for something like this is a little tricky.”

“Something like what?” he asked, cocking his head at me.

I smiled. He hadn’t made a move to let us in yet, and we needed to get in so that one of us could surreptitiously remove something with his DNA on it, for testing. “I wanted to see how you were faring with retirement and see if I could talk you into coming back to the Knights,” I told him. “But it’ll be easier to talk about it inside.”

The old man blinked in surprise, and then nodded. “Of course,” he said, taking a step aside. “Please come in.”

I moved past him and entered a wide living area decorated tastefully with a dark blue sofa and a few small chairs on either side, with a small table set in front of it. A potted plant sat in the middle of it, the wide, waxy leaves telling me it was there for oxygen production. A kitchen was behind it, larger than the ones in the Knight Commanders’ quarters, the counter acting as the divider between the two rooms. A hallway opened up opposite the front door, presumably leading to the bedrooms.

There were dozens of possible sources of DNA in the house, but we had to be certain we got the right sample. He was living with his daughter, and while having her DNA would help implicate him, having his was the best way to know for certain.

Dreyfuss stepped past us, his arm already held out toward the sofas. “Have a seat, please.”

“Thank you,” I said. I moved over and took a single chair with my back to the wall, while Dylan perched next to me on the couch. Only Maddox remained standing, and I could tell by her “nervous” fidgeting that she was going to start the plan right now—by faking the need to use his facilities. The bathroom was the best place to find genetic material, and we were all hoping that Maddox could grab something simple, like some hairs from a brush. Anything that wouldn’t be missed. “Kerrin?” I asked, using her last name.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said apologetically, and it was all I could do not to smile. “Sir, may I use your bathroom?”