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

The hall we wound up in was brightly lit, with built-in shelves housing UV lights and plants, diagrams of root systems on screens below each one. The screens were interactive, so that Hands could brush up on plant care whenever they needed to. I stared—I had been to this floor several times, but I still loved seeing the simple dedication to life that existed here.

Everything about the residential floors and the greenery above made me feel safe. In a place where suspicion and fear ruled, it was so odd that Hands lived in perfect trust with each other, and as a result, their doors were always open. Neighbors often went in and out of each other’s homes to chat or share dinner. Outside of a greenery, Hands were just as suspicious as the rest of us, but in here, they believed in each other. I loved that they had that sense of community. The Knights tried, with practice Tourneys and sparring competitions, but no one ever just came over to spend time with each other. No one actively visited their neighbors. Just a few words in the hall, and then it was over: bonding—done.

Grey, it seemed, felt differently. He stalked over to an elevator terminal and practically punched the call button, glaring at it until the platform slid out of the wall. We stepped onto it, and began to drop.

We heard the noises the moment we stepped out a few seconds later, two floors down.

“I don’t care who you are,” a male voice spat from down the hall. “The second your number fell to a three, you should have been removed from crop-rotation management. I’ve filed a complaint with Boss Lynx, and he says that he is personally looking into the matter.”

A soft voice began to protest, but a meaty thud cut it off. I heard coughing, then retching. I surged forward, intimately familiar with that sequence of noises after combat training with the Knights.

“Liana!” Grey whispered as I moved forward, but I ignored it.

Turning the corner, I saw two young men cornering a young woman against the wall. She was doubled over and clutching at her stomach. Looking up at them with pleading eyes.

“Daniel,” she said. “Stewart. I know you. Have known you for years. Why are you doing this?”

One of the men, a tall brute with a shock of dark hair, grimaced.

“We can’t withstand a three in our midst,” he said in a soft voice. “You put us all at risk. You have to go.”

Anger began to burn, and I clenched my hand into a fist, drawing even closer. I was still unnoticed by either of them, and glad of it. In the mood I suddenly found myself in, I wasn’t exactly going to give them a fair fight.

And I didn’t feel bad about that, considering they weren’t playing fair either.

The woman straightened, although it clearly cost her, and winced, looking directly at the men.

“This is my home,” she said. “My place. My calling. You can’t just take that from me because my number—”

The man drew his hand back and slapped her right across the face. Her words cut off instantly as her head was flung to one side, her hands clenching at her sides.

“I won’t leave,” she stated, and I caught the sight of tears welling in her eyes. “Not even Boss Lynx can make me.”

I wanted to applaud the woman’s bravery, but there wasn’t enough time. The men’s expressions were dark as they leaned closer, and I broke into a run.

I had the satisfaction of seeing one of them look up at me, his eyes widening in surprise, and then I slammed my shoulder into his chest, throwing him back into his companion. They stumbled back, the force of my impact too much for their balance, and I stood over them, baton out.

“That’s damned well enough,” I informed them coldly, making eye contact with both of them.

The two men looked up at me, their eyes wide with alarm and surprise... and almost immediately became contrite. I watched it happen, but didn’t react, especially when that contrition morphed into alarm at the glittering nine on my wrist. A quick glance at theirs revealed a purple six and an orange five, respectively, and my anger tightened. If anyone should understand the plight of having a low number, it should be them.

“Knight,” the one I had initially hit said, as he slowly picked himself off the ground. “We were simply attempting to—”

“Beat a woman in front of her own home?” I asked, my voice dripping with cool anger. It wasn’t even an act. I was about three seconds from showing them both just how much a stun baton could hurt. “Yes, I can see that.”

“She’s a three,” one of them muttered.

“Yes,” I said. “And you’re a five. He’s a six. Neither of you is that much more devoted to Scipio than she is, are you? I wonder how long it’ll be before I’m down here to escort you to the Medica. I think a trip to the Citadel might be more appropriate, considering you’re doing work that is not for your department. Clearly you hit your heads and can’t recall that dealing with lower-ranking citizens is for Knights or Medics only.”

The two paled and looked nervously at their numbers.

“Hurt a defenseless unarmed person again,” I snapped, my anger a terrible thing, “and I will come down here personally to make your lives a living hell.”

The two scurried away down the hall in the opposite direction, and I turned back to see Grey standing right behind me. He was grinning openly.

“That,” he said as he came up beside me, “was very well done.”

I flushed. “They made me angry,” I said. “They had no right to beat on her just because her rank was lower.”

“I agree. Personally, I think you could have roughed them up more.”

I probably should have, but it was too late now. I made my way to where the woman had collapsed upon her knees, trying to catch her breath. I looked at Grey, my eyes seeking confirmation that this was the three we were looking for, and he nodded.

“Sarah?” I said. “Sarah Thrace?”

Wet eyes brimming with frustrated tears met mine, and she pulled in a shuddering breath.

“I don’t want to go,” she said. “Not to another floor. Not to the Medica. I can’t.”

I put a hand on her shoulder, and found her shaking. Disgust roiled up inside of me at a system that would reduce anyone to this when they had tried, but weren’t quite good enough. I felt even worse when I thought about the fact that their torture ended with a trip to the first few floors of the Citadel. The entire system was rigged, just by its existence. It was impossible for a human (except for Eric) to be positive and dedicated to a system that just treated them like a statistic. And even his good nature only got him so far! To be a nine or a ten, you had to lose that bit of happiness, and fade away. Like giving over all free will to Scipio. What sort of choice was that? Death or blind obedience? I wasn’t sure there was a difference.

“I’m not going to take you to the Medica,” I said.

Her eyes widened as she looked between Grey and myself. “But you said...”

I shrugged. “I know what I said. Is there somewhere we can talk? Somewhere private?”

She nodded slowly, gesturing over one shoulder at the door a few feet away. “We can use my home,” she said, rising to her feet. “Come in.”





21