The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

“How’d she die?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure, to be honest. I was pretty torn up over Selka, so I wasn’t paying much attention to the world, y’know? Why do you ask?”

I opened my mouth to point out that both she and Selka had died after meeting this girl, so if anyone else who had been in contact with the alien girl had also died, then that would mean conspiracy. The door at the back of the room opened, and Grey walked in wearing clean clothes, his hair damp. I watched him for a second, and then turned back to Roark.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said, suddenly changing my mind about bringing it up. No doubt Roark suspected the same thing, but since he didn’t volunteer any new information, that meant he was either sitting on it, or he just didn’t know. Either way, it didn’t change the fact that I was curious enough to look into it on my own later. “I’d need more information, before I said anything.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Roark said, sliding the plate over to Grey as he sat down. “Either way, it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is whether you want in.”

“In?” I looked at Grey, who was watching me intently while scratching absently at the now-fresh skin on his chest, which was smooth and whole except for the pink scar cutting across his torso in jagged angles.

“You want to bring her in on this?” Grey asked, arching an eyebrow. “Color me surprised. I never thought I’d see you work with a Knight.”

“She’s not a Knight anymore,” Roark said. “At least, not really. She’s with us, which means we tell her everything.”

I smiled, pleased that Roark wasn’t going to cut me out now that I’d rescued Grey.

“So you guys do have a plan?”

“Wait for it,” Grey said, and flashed me a wink and that slow, burning smile that made my knees suddenly fill with pudding.

“Grey and I,” Roark said, turning a fond smile on the young man, “have been continuing Selka’s work, so to speak.”

“As in...”

“Wait,” Grey said. “It’s better to tell her the stages. Stage one is—”

“Recruitment,” Roark barked over Grey. “We need people in order to make this work, but it can’t be too many, or we’ll attract attention.”

“Luckily, we are in the presence of Roark,” Grey said, making a flashy gesture and topping it off with a bow that sent a ripple of pain over his face. “Master doctor and premier drug supplier of the great Tower of Scipio. Offering Paragon to those of low rank who are dissatisfied with life in the Tower, and offering them a way out in exchange for their expertise.”

I blinked at him, my eyebrows rising, and then turned back to Roark. “Okay, but why are you doing this? Are you starting a... movement or rebellion or something?” If they were, I wasn’t sure I wanted in. I didn’t want to start a war in the Tower. Historically, they had never been successful, not to mention the amount of death they caused.

Grey laughed while Roark waved an annoyed hand. “No, nothing so preposterous and foolhardy. And don’t listen to Grey; we only have some twenty-nine individuals at this point,” he said. “Hardly the premier drug supplier.”

I tilted my head. “But you can’t possibly keep up with the demand of all the people who will need the drug,” I said cautiously, thinking about all the levels of the Medica meant for housing the twos, and the prisoners in the Citadel. They all needed help, but there were too many of them. I’d know he was feeding me a lie about his intentions if he said that he could. There was no way.

To my relief, Roark nodded in assent. “I’ve spent the last decade making as much of the stuff as I can,” he admitted. “I was waiting for the day when I could finally enact this plan. We’ll find as many as we can, and keep them topped off. Until we can enact phase two.”

“Which is?”

Roark smiled, and it was the first peaceful expression I had seen on him. He looked wistfully at his wrinkled hands, his eyes soft. “We leave,” he said. “And we don’t come back.”

Everything stood still. Leave? The idea was ludicrous. Just because people had survived somewhere didn’t mean we could find that place—or them. It didn’t mean there was a surplus of livable land we could claim. We had no means of transportation through the Wastes. No supply of water once we left the proximity of the river, and we’d have to head east, because the river running west was tainted with toxins the Tower dumped into it. No food, because nothing grew in the irradiated desert. Oh yeah... and the desert was irradiated!

But there are people out there, my mind screamed at me, daring me to dream of the possibility of life outside the Tower. There were other people who had survived. Could we really just... leave the Tower and live somewhere else? No bloodshed, just those of us who couldn’t survive life here, trying to survive and live our own lives?

I drew in a deep breath and looked at both of them. “So your plan is to deal drugs to recruit people, and then leave?” I asked, and they nodded. “I feel like I’m missing a few significant details between the two steps. Not to criticize... but yeah... I’m going to need a little bit more.”

Roark let out a rough chuckle and nodded. “That’s a fair point, girl. And we’re more than happy to fill you in. After you decide whether you want to join us.”

Life beyond the Tower. If it was a real possibility, it was incredible. It meant there might be something more than the eight massive walls keeping us inside. It meant there was hope for a new and different life—one in which we could live however we chose, free of being monitored and used as slaves to the great machine. It meant a life in which I wasn’t expected to kill anyone.

“I want to join you,” I said, making my decision. “I’m not sure if I believe your story entirely, but life outside the Tower is worth the risk.”

“Okay, Squire,” Roark said, and this time the term didn’t seem to have any derision attached to it. It felt more like a nickname than a title. “Welcome to the revolution.”





20





Unfortunately for me, being part of a revolution wasn’t as exciting as I had thought it would be. Two weeks had gone by since I’d gotten Grey out of the Citadel, and I hadn’t seen him or Roark since that evening when we had talked.

I understood the reasoning: we needed to keep a low profile, after everything was said and done. I’d just taken Grey out of the Citadel in somewhat suspicious circumstances—and being seen with him again could draw unwanted attention. It was safer to let some time pass, until we were certain that they weren’t going to figure out I was the one who had saved him, and not Scipio.