The Girl Who Dared to Think Bella Forrest (best classic literature txt) 📖

we still had a few minutes before class began, so I was able to get through the tale before we were interrupted by the arrival of the instructor.

“I still don’t understand how he did that,” I finished, staring at the floor. “I tried to make my parents see that there was something more going on, but all they cared about was that my number had dropped.”

“How did you say it?” Eric asked, giving me a knowing look, and I sighed.

“Not very well, but they barely even let me speak! They didn’t care! Their trust in Scipio is unshakable. If there’s a nine on his wrist, then Scipio put it there.”

“They’re not wrong,” Eric said softly, and I gave him a sharp look. He held up his hands, his eyes widening. “No! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Well, maybe a little, but—”

“It doesn’t change the fact that no one has ever cheated the system,” Zoe finished for him, meeting my gaze with her own vibrant blue one. “I mean, think about it, Liana. How could his number change like that? Did he hack his own net? Does he have the background for that?”

“No, he was a Hand originally, but they dropped him, so maybe—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Eric said, with no small amount of disdain. “There has never been a Hand accepted into the IT department, not once, in the history of the Tower. They hate us. Notice how they only ever send their first-year Bits down here to teach us? It’s because this is primarily a Hand school.”

“But they do the same thing at other schools,” Zoe pointed out.

“We’re getting off topic, guys,” I cut in. “Not to be needy, but I got a lot on my plate, and unfortunately not a lot of time to talk about it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Liana.”

I smiled at Zoe. “No problem. Now, he might not have had the code, but…” I hesitated. Thought about the mystery pill I was carrying even now in my pocket. Suddenly, I didn’t want to tell them—not yet. Mostly because it could be nothing, but partially because it could be something. Something illegal, which meant something dangerous, and I didn’t want to recklessly jeopardize them before I understood the size and scope of what was going on. “What if something is wrong with Scipio?”

“Don’t even think that,” Eric hissed. “Asking questions like those in a public place is dangerous. People get scared easily, especially if they think something’s wrong with Scipio. Don’t you remember Requiem Day?”

I shuddered. Requiem Day had been one of the more horrific chapters in the history of our Tower—the day when Scipio had crashed. It was the first time in the history of the Tower that he had gone offline, and because his subroutines controlled so many aspects of Tower life, when he went down, we went down. Oh, yes, the greeneries continued to collect electricity, but there was no way for them to pass it down to Cogstown without Scipio’s help.

On that day, the Tower’s population had been close to forty-one thousand people when the lights cut off. People plummeted to their deaths in the elevator shafts and Knight after Knight died in the plunge. On the second day, people began to panic—with none of the services functioning, and no way to net each other, the lack of information regarding other sections of the Tower made people scared about what they were going to eat and drink. It wasn’t until the evening that people really started to turn on each other.

When the lights came on during the third day, there were only thirty-two thousand people left alive.

“That is a really good point,” I said, looking around. Luckily, we were far enough away from the few other students in the room that they probably hadn’t heard us. Still, I lowered my voice. “Fine—so what if he found a way to cheat the system?”

“It’s not possible.” Eric’s expression was adamant even as he shook his head back and forth, denying the very premise. “No one has been able to cheat the system.”

Not that we know of. It was on the tip of my tongue to say, but Eric’s somber expression stopped me. It took a lot for Eric to look serious, and I didn’t want him dwelling on possibilities that could jeopardize the eight on his wrist.

It took a long moment before anyone was willing to speak again.

“Couldn’t your parents ask for a deferral and give you a chance to raise your number on your own?” Zoe asked, and I glanced over at her to see the thoughtful expression on her face.

“They could, if my parents, y’know… actually cared about who I was. But no—my parents have wanted me to get Medica treatment since my number hit five, but I refused. Now that it’s a three…” I trailed off with a sigh, finding it unnecessary to carry on with the sentence. They knew what the stakes were. They knew there was no way out.

“What if you got it to go back up before your appointment?” Eric asked.

We both looked at him.

“I’ve been trying,” I said pointedly. “I think I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” he replied. “Just think positive thoughts. Scipio just checks for concentrations of positive versus negative, right?”

As much as I loved Eric, he really could be dense sometimes. It wasn’t his fault—he was just one of those naturally pleasant people. He enjoyed almost everything. In fact, I’d never heard him say a cross word about anything. As a result, his number was eight, and even though he hung out with morally questionable people (meaning me—Zoe’s number was a six), that number had never once twitched as a result.

Zoe quirked an eyebrow, her head tilted all the way back to stare up at him.

“It’s not quite that simple,” she corrected him. “Scipio uses complex algorithms to…”

I watched Eric’s eyes glaze over as Zoe warmed to one of her many areas of expertise. Her father had run a shop