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

“I am,” he replied, his eyes darting between Grey and me before he lowered them again. “I obviously want to be of service to the Tower, and to Scipio.”

He looked at his number, as if expecting the three to have changed during his five-second speech, and when it didn’t, he sighed. “I would do anything to get my number back up,” he said.

“Anything?” I asked softly. “Surely your ranking isn’t so bad. What caused the fall?”

“You mean how did I lose Scipio’s favor? I was an eight, on my way to nine, before all of this happened, and it was jealousy that brought me down, I’m afraid. The head of my work group brought in a new Diver, and he’s just... better than me. Faster and smarter and...” He trailed off, looking blankly ahead with unseeing eyes. “I’d been working for thirty years to get to where I was, and just like that, someone else walked in and could do it all as easy as breathing. It’s not fair.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said. Grey’s knee nudged against mine in warning, but Silvan just thrust out his number. The three glowed upon his wrist, and he stared down at it with loathing in his eyes.

“I’ve given my entire life to the Tower,” he muttered. “And it has deemed me unworthy. I have to fix it.”

I hated seeing people like this, because it was all too familiar. Sarah’s sadness, Silvan’s anger—all reactions to a system willing to toss them aside for not serving in the way the Tower demanded. Even worse, the only way out was one that involved losing all sense of self in order to be met with approval.

“Does your anger make you want to do harm to the Tower?” Grey asked, leaning forward, and I looked at him, curious. What made him ask that question?

Silvan’s eyes widened, and he made a frantic gesture. “Of course not,” he said indignantly. “I may not be desirable to Scipio any longer, but this is my home. Besides, where else could I go, really? No, my only chance at redemption is Medica treatment.”

“How does the thought of receiving treatment make you feel?” I asked.

Silvan looked around the room, considering the question, and then shrugged. “I don’t honestly know. On the one hand, of course you don’t want to have to take the Medica’s fix. The people who take it are... distant and cold. But on the other hand... if there is a deficiency within me, I have to do something to fix it. I don’t want to be a burden. I want to serve.”

The poor, brainwashed man. Of course he blamed himself—I had too, more often than not, during my descent. He didn’t want Medica treatment, not really. But he didn’t think there were other options.

I opened my mouth to tell him about the pill, but was forestalled by Grey. “I understand your drive,” he said. “And it seems your loyalty to the Tower is still strong, despite all of your troubles. Is that a correct assessment?”

Silvan’s head whipped up and down so aggressively that I thought it might come flying off. I frowned at Grey. That question was loaded, especially to someone with the rank of three. They wouldn’t deny that assessment, because if they did they’d be admitting their own dissidence against the system. And I was a Knight; no way he was going to admit that he didn’t agree in front of me. Unless we explained who we were and what we had to offer.

“The Tower has rarely had a more loyal servant,” Silvan reassured us amicably, his hands shaking. Behind him in the open kitchen, the kettle began to whistle softly, steam burbling up through the top and fogging the glass side of a pipe that ran across the ceiling.

“I can see that,” Grey said. “So you are completely resigned to Medica treatment?”

A pause, followed by a nod. “I will keep my appointment,” he said. “I will be better. I promise.”

The direction the conversation had taken left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Grey wasn’t telling this man he had another option. Instead, he was treating him like a sycophant. That was wrong, though—he needed to tell him what was going on.

“What if there were another way?” I asked.

“Liana,” Grey said in a hushed voice, placing a hand on my shoulder in warning. But I shrugged it off, angry that he wouldn’t even discuss the option. I understood that the man was saying all the wrong things, but I was certain he was saying them for all the right reasons. He was trying to protect himself.

I looked at Silvan, taking in the shadows under his eyes and the fear within them. He didn’t want this. Who could ever want Medica treatment?

“You don’t need to go to the Medica,” I told him.

Silvan stiffened. His mouth locked shut, his eyes flashing. I moved forward to place my hand over his, the words flowing freely from my mouth now.

“Liana!” Grey said again, trying to stop me. “I’m sorry, sir; she’s speaking out of turn. She doesn’t—”

“There is a pill,” I cut in, ignoring Grey and getting Silvan’s eyes back on me. “It is called Paragon. It can change your number without touching your mind. It allows you to continue being yourself.”

He stared up at me, his eyes confused and uncomprehending. “Are you trying to trick me?” he asked.

I wasn’t surprised by his questions. If it were me in his shoes, I would ask the same thing, or something along those lines. Then again, I had to dig to find out. Here we were, offering him an option that seemed highly suspicious. I didn’t blame him for not immediately jumping at it.

“I understand why you would think so, but no. We’re not trying to trick you; we’re trying to help you.”

“I’m confused,” Silvan said after a few seconds of contemplation. “Who are you, and why are you here? Are you with the Medica? Is this a new line