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

“We’re going to see someone who can help us, and definitely needs our help. She lives in Smallsville.”

Smallsville was the nickname for Greenery 11, while their opposite greenery, number 12, was called Biggins. Don’t ask me why. Both greeneries specialized in most of the corn and wheat production in the Tower. Eric’s family had lived in Smallsville since the beginning of the Tower, although his father was a former Knight.

It was also one of the most beautiful places in the Tower. It was a sprawling mess of green, and the air was humid and soft and smelled of wet grass. Water and dirt stretched out for what seemed like an eternity. Light from the sun shone brightly through the solar windows that encased the greeneries, just like it did outside. It provided the crops with precious energy without making them wither away and die from the extreme heat. Artificial wind generators—designed for pollination—blew periodically, making the long stalks of wheat sway and lean this way and that.

As we stepped inside, I immediately smiled, closing my eyes and absorbing the feel of the sun and the smell of the earth. I felt comforted and infinitely serene in that one moment. I couldn’t help it—I loved it.

“Let’s get this done quickly,” Grey muttered, breaking my tranquility. I looked over to see him stalking forward with his hands shoved into his pockets.

I hurried after him along a dirt path, suddenly remembering that this had been his floor, growing up. Before he had been dropped.

“Is it hard for you?” I asked. “Being back here.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Let’s just say I’d rather get out of here before anyone recognizes me,” he replied.

He led me through a field of corn, which swayed to and fro in the artificial winds that danced across the floor. We followed a narrow path that twisted through it in slow-moving curves and bends; I knew from Eric that these paths were established randomly, so the corn could be tested to make sure it fit standards. As we pushed through, I stared at Grey’s back. His dark blond hair fluttered in the breeze, his head tilting back and forth as he surveyed his surroundings. His hands, however, had clenched into tight fists at his sides.

“So,” I said, thinking to distract him, “tell me more about this woman we’re here to reach out to.”

He blinked, looking back at me as if he’d forgotten I was there. “Her name is Sarah Thrace,” he said. “She’s just fallen to the rank of three. Her parents aren’t speaking to her, although she’s old enough to be independent, so they can’t drop her.”

He spoke the last few words with such vehemence in his voice that I felt myself pale slightly. Then I reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him to a stop. He turned, his face dark with anger, and met my gaze.

“Hey,” I said, slipping my hands around his. “I’m sorry that your parents did that to you. It wasn’t right, and it’s sad that they never took the chance to know and love the real you. I know how awful that feels, and I’m sorry.”

Grey’s anger faded as I spoke, and after a moment his features had relaxed some. “Thanks,” he said, and the word, though softly spoken, carried the weight of a significant amount of gratitude.

My chest began to feel warm, like something from within was glowing, as he stared into my eyes. A lock of his hair had fallen across his brown eyes, and I had the urge to reach up and push it aside, but I refrained, content just to stare at him. The kiss we’d shared reared up in my mind, and all I could think was that I wanted him to kiss me again.

This time he broke away, craning his neck to look over my head. I followed his gaze and saw a woman in a green uniform making her way down the path behind us, and within seconds he was pulling me behind him via our still-conjoined hands.

We walked at a fast pace for a minute, and then he slowed a bit, allowing me to come out of the half-jog I’d had to break into to keep up with his longer legs.

“So... how do we find her?” I asked, panting slightly from the sudden exertion.

He shrugged. “I have an address and a picture. We’ll pay her a visit, and see if we can’t... help each other out.”

I frowned. Roark had told me that they offered Paragon to those who had fallen, and since then, I had found myself wondering how he did it. I wasn’t sure if I was comfortable with the idea of using Paragon as a bargaining chip, and now it seemed I was going to be able to see and judge firsthand the method the two men were using to gain support. I wanted to get out of here, but there were lines I would never cross, and one of them would be using Paragon to extort labor.

We made our way through the fields and eventually came to a ladder that led down into the residential floors, through a hole cut in the floor itself, tucked against the shell. Normally, all residential areas had open access so that members of the Tower could come and go easily. Hands, however, had different concerns, and had sealed off the common entrances to their residential areas years ago, so that all visitors had to come into their homes via the greeneries. It was something about wanting everyone to appreciate the beauty and importance of the floors, and it was why people thought Hands were arrogant and self-serving (not Tower-serving).

The ladder dropped us onto a catwalk that ran down the length of a long pipe that fed water into the fields. We followed it as it turned abruptly at a wall, and led down thirty feet in a series of steep ramps that rattled and squeaked as we descended them.

We stopped to stand to one side as a group of Farmers moved past us heading the opposite way. A few cast curious eyes in our direction, and I managed a neutral face coupled with an occasional nod. Once they were gone, we started moving again, following the catwalk until it dead-ended against a wall, a hole cut into the steel. Markings etched on the side gave us the basic layout, and I was surprised when Grey studied it for a second, then looked sad.

“Her quarters are just down a few levels.”

Eric had told me about this: when Hands started to drop in rank, they were assigned worse and worse quarters, pushing them closer to the greenery (and exit, to be dropped from the department). I understood Grey’s sadness now; he knew she was close to losing her home, and he understood exactly what that felt like.

“Let’s go,” I said, swinging onto the ladder and moving down.