Chapter Sixteen
For the first time I truly open my eyes and look at the corkboards in my kitchen. Shelley’s still asleep, so I’m quiet as I peruse the detailed charts, documents and maps pinned across the walls. I’d always thought that Shelley’s resistance was a bit of a pet project, but now, seeing all of the work, the details, the sheer effort that’s gone into this, I’m impressed. I unpin a document hanging from the board and sit down at the kitchen table. The report outlines the financial expenditures of the Corp in Central over the last three months. A few items catch my eye; namely the large sum spent on Genetic Research and Bioengineering. I know about a lot of the Corp’s research through Sandy and other lab scientists I’ve worked with, but I’ve never heard a word about genetics, and I don’t even know what bioengineering is.
“Interested?” a voice sounds behind me. I whirl around to find Shelley in her pyjamas, her eyes still crusted from sleep. Her expression wanes from curiosity to suspicion.
“I didn’t know how much work you’ve been doing on this,” I reply. She reaches toward me, grabbing the document and scanning it briefly before pinning it back to the board. She ignores my compliment.
“Piper, you’ve been living with me for more than a year now and you’ve never so much as glanced at any of my work. Why now?” she asks, face stoic.
I shrug, wondering what she’s getting at. “I’m interested in what the Corp is really doing behind closed doors,” I say.
Shelley sighs deeply. “I want to trust you with this. You’re my best friend, but I know there’s a mole in the Corp, and rumor has it that it’s you. My question is, why would you work undercover for Rupert when you openly despise him?”
I’m thrown back by this, and don’t really know how to respond. I mean, initially I know that Rupert wanted me to infiltrate Ichton, but I’ve given him nothing, even after all I’ve discovered. And then another thought springs to mind: who would spread knowledge of me being a spy?
“I’m not the mole, Shelley. You know me, you know that I don’t care enough about Central or Rupert or the Corp to do that. Who tried to tell you this?” I ask finally.
She looks to the ground, the lines of her mouth pulled into a frown as she tries to find her words. “You’re not going to like it,” she says.
I run a hand through my hair in frustration. “Tell me,” I state again. She mutters something intelligible, so I ask her again.
“It was Tor, alright? He came to see me when I was in the design department. He inquired about your behaviour at home, said he sensed something strange about you. I kept it vague, but then he mentioned an infiltration from Central and asked me to notify him if I noticed anything, and here I find you looking at some of my stuff. What am I supposed to think?” she cries.
I check my annoyance for her as sharp realization settles in.
Tor is naming me as traitor. Tor, who is always on his phone taking private calls. Tor, who even Myra doesn’t trust anymore. Everything adds up; how Rupert knew about the scouting mission but not any details, how Tor has been trying to inch in closer to me even while keeping secrets from me.
“I think it’s backwards. I think Tor’s the spy,” I half-whisper. Shelley’s eyes widen, but after a moment it settles in and she nods along with me.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even thought you would do something like that,” she says.
I brush it off. “It’s hard to know who to trust these days. There aren’t many people left who don’t have double agendas, you and me included,” I wonder aloud.
Shelley seats herself at our kitchen table. “So what was it you were looking for?” she asks. I raise an eyebrow and she gestures towards the patchwork of rebellion on the walls. I plop myself across from her, wishing I could tell her everything; Asher and Darcy, Myra’s will to overtake the Corp, but I know that I can’t. Not yet.
“Clues, maybe, I don’t know. This place…it’s strange, don’t you think? The Corp’s different here, and I think it runs deeper than just a blood feud between Elders. Myra thinks about Harpies differently than anyone else. She even thinks about fighting differently. She spent some time in the Temples learning their ways and tries to teach her Hunters those skills. In all the time I’ve been here, I’ve killed one Harpy, and that’s a secret kill. I’ve gotten possibly zero information about the Harpy front even though I’m supposed to be on a task force to stop it. Something’s going on here, and I want to figure it out,” I say.
Shelley nods as she absorbs my words, and I have no doubt she’ll look into the scant information I’ve given her about the Corp, but I know she won’t ask anything further. She’d never ask me to risk being caught like that. She eyes me before speaking, like she’s still sizing me up.
“I think there’s something I have to tell you, about me and the resistance,” she says warily.
I nod, urging her to continue. She rubs her fingers along her temples, a few chocolate hairs falling stray from her hair band.
“This isn’t all me. I…well, I work for Myra, undercover. I started off as a lackey design worker, but it became clear to me soon after I started that things were different in Ichton. I snooped, found out too much, and eventually met Myra in person. It’s all kind of a blur how it happened, but she recruited me. I’m sorry I’ve never told you,” she says.
My mind should be spinning, but instead it all sort of fits into place. I pace the room as the details sort themselves out. “Who else is involved?” I ask.
“Sandy. Grier. Sully’s in on it but does mostly contract work. That’s about it for the Corp, but here in the underground, there are tons of people involved. There are even a few bases set up outside of the cities. This movement is getting larger faster than anyone has expected,” she replies.
I run my finger along a pile of the resistance stickers I’ve noticed plastered along the brick walls of the city streets.
“And the objective?” I know I don’t really need to ask this, because I can already guess, can feel it in my bones.
“Overthrow Rupert and reshape the world without Elder Corp’s rule over everything,” Shelley responds, voice soft as though someone could be eavesdropping on us. So Myra would take over and rebuild the world her way. Who knows what this could entail? Peace between the worlds, more treaties, maybe even more secrets; the possibilities really are endless. But somehow it all feels right.
“I want to be involved,” I say.
Shelley raises her eyebrows. “You’ve had a sudden loss of apathy?” she says. I turn my gaze to her head-on, and her expression returns to neutral. I grab a few things from the table; my key-card and for good measure a few of the underground stickers.
“It was never that I didn’t care. Now I just have somewhere to funnel everything from my past. What’s the name of this thing, anyway?” I inquire.
“Valhalla,” she whispers. The Valhalla, and it’s been in my kitchen the entire time.
“That’s perfect.”
Shelley remains silent as I strut out the door, but even without looking back I know that a smile is perched on her lips.
I decide to pay Sandy a visit first. From the moment I heard his name as part of the resistance, I knew that he wasn’t just a member; he’s got to play a big part. My trip to his office in the building is thankfully quiet and without interruption. It’s like a bomb hit me and everything’s different now. Every Corp personnel I pass I survey more closely, looking for any sign that they might be underground, or infiltration from Central. Nobody’s trustworthy anymore.
When I reach Sandy’s office the door is closed with blinds shut. At first I think he might be sleeping, as his tech-based activities keep him going all hours of the night, but then I hear noises from inside. Figuring he must be running a simulation, I push open the door. I poke my head inside, then immediately duck out and slam the door shut. The image I’ve just seen is burned into my mind; Sandy and a girl on top of one of the long desks, both with sweaty, naked skin. My face is hot with embarrassment as I hear some rustling from inside. I’m just about to run off when the door cracks open. Sandy pokes his head out, wearing only a hastily thrown-on t-shirt and boxer shorts.
“Piper?” he says.
I wave. Awkwardly. “I am so sorry,” I say, “I completely should have knocked, I just didn’t know you had a thing, and I wanted to talk—”
“It’s okay. I probably should have locked the door,” he replies, running a hand through his cropped blond hair, laughing.
I release a sigh of relief at his smile. “So, uh, who is she?” I ask, giving him a wink.
“Umm,” he begins, turning his gaze to the ground.
“Sandy! What the hell? Who’s out there?” calls the mystery girl. I want to gasp comically but can only giggle uncontrollably. I’d know that voice anywhere.
“Grier?” I whisper at Sandy. He pops his head back into the room.
“It’s Piper,” he says to her. She shrieks loudly, rushing to the door.
“You do not tell anybody about this!” she says, a bed sheet wrapped tightly around her body.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I say, trying hard not to laugh. Grier’s eyes are still wide with humiliation as she tries to collect herself.
“Myra mentioned she wanted to see you, by the way. If she asks where I am, can you tell her I’m indisposed or something?” she says.
“Alright. I’ll come find you later, Sandy, when you have clothes on,” I joke. Sandy rolls his eyes at me and shuts the door.
The lavender awning of my favorite cafe is comforting and distressing at the same time. I used to come here to relax and forget about my past and my present, but now it also rekindles the severity of the situation at hand. Sandy and Grier are already seated at a circular table clothed in flowery linen. Sandy smiles awkwardly as I join them, while Grier’s cheeks flush red with embarrassment from our earlier encounter. Instead of lulling in silence, I speak up first.
“Let’s get everything out in the open. Whatever is going on between you two is your business, so don’t worry about me. It’ll be like it never happened,” I say. Grier purses her lips, but relief floods her eyes. Sandy’s quick to change the topic.
“So you wanted to talk. I know you well enough to know that this is business. What’s on your mind?” he asks.
I lean in, scanning the cafe quickly before whispering, “Valhalla.” Both of their eyes widen in a mixture of shock, and perhaps a little fear. After all, they don’t know whether I’m on their side—for all I know they could believe I’m the mole.
Sandy peers around before speaking in a rushed, hushed tone. “There are eyes and ears everywhere, so let’s keep this discreet. What’s your stance?” he asks.
“I want in,” I reply. Grier remains quiet as Sandy inhales sharply. Anyone else might think she’s just a quiet person, but I know that her eyes are sharp, checking out every movement for a betrayal or attack.
“Why?” Sandy asks shortly.
What can I say, now? To help out the Harpy Prince? Because I don’t trust anything anymore? But my answer comes naturally. “I want Rupert gone. I want to see a change in this world. Maybe I didn’t notice anything before, but since I’ve been here, since David, it’s obvious to me that the Elder Corporation has too many secrets, too many lies. I’m done being a dog, and I’m done ignoring the problem. I want to help,” I say. Sandy is silent for a moment, and my heart beats wildly as I wait for his reply. Then he grins wildly and Grier sighs.
“We’ve been waiting for you, to tell you the truth. We’ve set everything up to lead you in this direction. Why else would we leave confidential documents in your kitchen? Why do you think I supplied you with Ten? Your hatred for the Corp could spark the flame of revolution, Piper,” he says.
I’m a little bit flabbergasted as I piece together the details in my head. Then I laugh, that confused kind of laugh where I don’t know whether it’s funny or sad or frightening.
“We still need to handle the mole situation,” Grier interrupts mildly.
“I think I’ve got a lead on who it might be,” I reply. She gives me a look that says go on.
“Tor. It has to be Tor. Who else has contact with Central? I got a call from Rupert after the hunt. He knew about it, Grier. Of course he didn’t know the details and I told him it was a bust, but he knew. That can only mean that someone in the room at the time of the meeting had to be the one to inform him.”
Sandy nods carefully.
“He’s been the main suspect, besides you. We knew Rupert would get to you, but didn’t know whether you would follow through. The problem is that we need proof, and he keeps up a pretty good image around here,” he says.
“But he and Piper have a history, right? We could work that to our advantage,” Grier chimes in.
“Give me some time to work with him, alright? Things have been a little strained between us and it would seem a little suspicious if I suddenly wanted to be close like we once were,” I say.
Sandy nods in agreement. “That’s probably the best solution. I’ll leave you with that, then, and at our next meeting we’ll update the situation. Our meetings are kind of impromptu, but you’ll be informed the time and place.”
“Perfect,” I say. I haven’t even had a chance to order a cup of coffee, but if I want to get cracking on this, the sooner the better. “Oh, and don’t tell Myra anything. I’d like to inform her myself.”
Both of them nod a small salute and I resist the urge to make a comment about their intimacy. I leave them at the table, hatching the beginnings of plans in my mind. Sandy calls out to me just before I leave.
“And Piper? Welcome to Valhalla.”