Chapter 34

"Super ninjas, dun-da-dun," came a quiet murmuring behind me. "Sneakin' through the city, ba-doo-ba-doo–"

"Dan, I'm serious," I whispered, casting a look over my shoulder. Though the streets were dark, and there weren't any people in sight, I didn't want to add to the risk we were taking. "Stop singing, someone could hear you."

"But it adds to the ambiance," Dan protested. I paused in my tracks, then turned and gave him a pointed look. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. But when you realize just how much you miss my beautiful vocals, I'll expect a lavish apology before I utter another peep."

I couldn't help it, even with everything that loomed before me –this new challenge that could very well uncover the secret behind Banks– I had to stifle a laugh. Though what we were doing was risky, Dan had a way of making everything he did seem easy.

After we'd returned from our dare-devil stunt, our group had spent the rest of the day goofing off on the upper grounds of the dauntless compound; just getting to know each other better. Then when it had grown darker, we'd returned inside where we'd started a vigorous game of pool. It had been nice to relax and spend time with everyone, but at the back of my mind I'd been ever alert; ready to leave as soon as it was dark enough that most of the city's citizens would been asleep.

Dan and I had eventually split from the group and devised a plan of attack. Though I wasn't certain I'd obtain any answers from what I planned to do, it was a start. The idea had actually come from a memory that had flashed through my mind as we'd driven back to the compound.

I recalled, last year when I'd first ever laid eyes on Banks, that I'd asked Carla about him. Even then, knowing as little as I did, I'd had the feeling that he was a dangerous person who had to be watched closely.

Carla hadn't known anything, all she'd been able to say was; Today at the Choosing Ceremony was the first time I ever saw him. Then after some thought, she'd added; It's mostly gossip, totally unfounded, but word around erudite was that there were special students who were so intellectually gifted that they were taught all their school subjects at erudite headquarters rather than have to go to public school.

Erudite headquarters, that had been my original target. What I'd wanted to do -as I'd told Dan in hushed tones while everyone was distracted with the pool game- was sneak into their building and look through their files to see if we could find any sort of information about Banks.

Dan had agreed, but then paused and come up with an even better plan.

"Sage, while I'd love to go storming into erudite headquarters, guns a blazin'–"

"Who said anything about guns? It's supposed to be a secret mission."

"Oh hush, can't you see I'm setting the scene? Anywho– though I'm all up for breaking and entering, I feel that there might be an easier way to get information. Dude, think about it, how does the government keep track of all of its citizens and the factions they choose?"

"The Civil Registry," I'd answered; my brain immediately in sync with his own. "They keep all the records of vital events and occurrences there."

"Right!" Dan had exclaimed as he gave me a devious grin. "Less security to get through, and it'll give us a starting point."

With that plan made, all we'd had to do was wait. Once the night had grown pitch black, we'd snuck out of the dauntless compound, boarded the train, and then made our way to the erudite sector of the city.

Now, as we ran across an empty street, we had to complete our next goal, which was to find adequate disguises. Though it wasn't necessarily a crime for people to go through the city's registry records –they were available to faction leaders, educators, and lawyers if they put in a formal request– we didn't want to chance it. After all, how many dauntless citizens were ever really interested in that kind of information?

"Hey, we could nab some clothes from there," Dan whispered as he nudged me with his elbow.

In front of us, there was a nearly empty laundromat, which had large windows that allowed us to see inside though we were far. From what I could tell, there was only a single man sitting on one of the benches. His head lolling to the side, it was obvious he'd fallen asleep waiting for his clothes to finish drying.

Careful not to let the door squeak, I pushed my way in and then proceeded to one of the many dryers that were running. Thankfully, the man didn't look like he'd heard anything; his loud snoring continued undisrupted.

"Grab me something flattering," Dan whispered as I opened one of the dryers and grabbed a couple of shirts. I tossed him one.

"Dan," I said in a chastising tone. "Be serious."

"You're right," he sighed. "What am I saying? Anything I deign to wear will always look good on me."

I rolled my eyes, and then tossed him a blue blazer from a different dryer. Still, the man didn't stir. As I pulled on my own shirt, and then finished off with a jacket, I reached into my pocket and grabbed a wad of cash I'd decided to bring with me.

"What are you doing?" Dan muttered when he saw me quietly pad towards the erudite man.

I didn't answer; instead I folded up a decent-sized stack of bills and then gingerly slipped them into the pocket of his sweater. Hopefully, it would be enough to make up for the things we were stealing. Then, feeling like the guy would randomly wake up and yell; Aha! I've caught you! I turned and quickly strode out.

The Civil Registry building was only a few blocks away, and as I began to make my way towards it, I couldn't help but note the look Dan was giving me. Through the shadows, I could just make out the white of his ever growing smile.

"What?" I asked. "What's that look for?"

"Think you left enough money?" He said sarcastically. Then, giving his head a little shake of amusement, he snorted. "Stiff. You really can't help yourself can you?"

I grinned back, giving him a shrug. "It was only fair," I answered. He wasn't being cruel when he called me a stiff, he was merely pointing out what he saw.

In minutes we'd made it to our target. Through the wide glass doors of the Registry building, I was quickly able to see that there were only two people at the front desk; a stern looking woman with horn rimmed glasses, who sat typing away at her computer, and a younger looking man with slicked back hair, his nose deep in a book.

"Okay, just follow my lead when we're in there," I quickly said, adjusting my jacket a final time.

"Aye-aye Captain," Dan answered as he gave me a little salute. However, just as I turned to march into the building, I felt him yank me back. "Woah, woah, hold up," he said as he whipped me around.

"What's wrong?" I asked, then actually gaped when I saw him pull a pair of glasses out of his back pocket. "Where did you get those?"

"Lifted them off that guy at the laundromat, he never even felt it," Dan grinned mischievously. He made a jerky gesture with his hands, "Shu-sha! Ninja-Dan strikes again. What? What? You left more than enough money for him to buy more clothes, plus ten of these things. Don't give me that look."

"Why would we need those?" I demanded, frowning at the thought of the poor erudite man waking up without his glasses.

"Not we, you," Dan said as he reached over and popped them onto my face. "I am totally pulling off the dapper-boy, cute-nerd look," he ran a hand dramatically along his chin and pretended to look deep in thought. "You, however, look like you're ready to pick someone up and toss them over your head if they don't give you the answers you want. The glasses are to soften your look."

"Right," I said, sounding unconvinced. Then, after a few blinks, I furrowed my brow. "Did you pop the lenses out of these?"

Rather than answer, Dan pulled a clear lens out of his pocket and pretended to use it as a monocle. "Indeed I did good chap, indeed I did."

"God, please tell me you're not using that in there as a prop," I begged.

He pretended to look hurt, but after a beat he chuckled and shook his head.

"Okay, enough talk, let's do this," I said, but again Dan yanked me back. "What now?"

"Last touch," he said, running a quick hand along his own hair and then my own; attempting to tame them I supposed.

"Gee, thanks mom," I said, unable to hide a smirk.

"No problem-o," Dan said, ignoring my sarcasm as he made his tone light and chipper. "There, now onward!"

It was with sweaty palms and a quickly beating heart that I pushed through the doors of the Registry building. To my surprise though, the surly-looking woman who'd been there before was gone. Now, the only person who was manning the desk was the young man.

With his nose still buried in his text book, he didn't look up, even when Dan and I had marched up to his station. I cleared my throat, then when I saw that he still wasn't paying attention, I rapped my knuckles on the wooden desktop.

"Oh," the man said, obviously startled. "My apologies, I didn't notice your arrival. How may I–"

He broke off then, raising a brow as he took in my appearance, and then Dan at my side. His eyes strayed back to me, and I felt them linger on the scarred and calloused skin along my knuckles. Damn, I'd forgotten how quickly they noticed things; they were just like the candor in that way, always aware of the smallest details.

"How may I help you?" He finally asked, sounding more hesitant than he had seconds ago.

"We're here for a research project," I answered confidently. It wasn't a lie, we really were researching something. "We're conducting a sort of survey about how many people transferred during the past five years. You see, we are trying to figure out if we can spot a pattern and if there's any way to predict what next year's Choosing Ceremony will be like."

This last part I said with slightly less vigor. Though I'd practiced my lines time and time again, they still felt wrong coming from my mouth. To cover up my discomfort, I tried to smile, though I knew it was probably coming out as more of a grimace.

"Do you have an appointment?" The man asked, sounding slightly less suspicious.

"Why of course," Dan said, sounding far too cheery; like me, he was obviously having trouble with the aspect of deception. "My name is -uhh- Manny," he floundered, then his eyes landed on my glasses. "Manny Lens, and this is my good scientific-y pal, Gage–" His eyes darted around the room, then landed on a cup full of pens and pencils. "Gage Sharps. Yeah, so look us up pal."

Shoot me now; I mentally groaned. Outwardly though, I tried to keep my face dignified and composed, nodding along with Dan as if to say; Yeah, that's totally who I am and I agree with every single thing my buddy here says.

"Manny Lens," the man repeated as he typed into his computer. He pressed the enter key, and almost immediately there was an audible ding. "Hmm, maybe it's under your friend's name?" He mumbled to himself as he continued to type. "Gage Sharps–" Another ding sounded. "I'm sorry, but it seems that neither of your names are coming up on the database. Could it be that you're in the wrong building? Or, perhaps, that you didn't make the appointment for this day?"

"What? Well that's just absurd," Dan said, clicking his tongue. "Dude, I totally called ahead and made a rez. Either you or one of your buddies here must've fuc–"

"I think what Manny means to say," I cut in before Dan could completely break out of character. "Is that we're both sure that we called ahead and scheduled a time to look into the civil records. We're very short on time, as you can see since we've come at such a late time of the night, and can't afford the luxury of rescheduling. This information is of the utmost importance to our research, and I'm sure you can understand the position we're in, right? That being said, can't you just let us in this one time?"

"Of course I understand," the young man nodded. I almost let out a sigh of relief, but then to my dismay, he began to shake his head. "But I can't just let you in there. Especially without previous approval from Annette. She's my supervisor, and she'd be upset if she found out I let someone in without an appointment."

Well, at least I tried to be nice; I said to myself as I mentally shifted gears. I guess we're going to have to do things the hard way.

Though I'd previously leaned forward in an attempt to appear friendly and elicit the man's trust, I now straightened; pushing my broad shoulders back, I donned an air of arrogance, looking around the office as if I owned the place. My eyes narrowing, I zoned in on his name-tag and raised a brow with apparent dislike.

"Upset? You're afraid of upsetting Annette?" I repeated slowly, my voice laced with hidden danger. "If I were you, I'd be afraid of upsetting me. Don't you know who I am? Don't you know what it is that I do?"

The young man blinked in surprise. "Uhh-err, you're Gage Sharps?" He said, sounding fearful and simultaneously confused. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure–"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard of Mr. Sharps' mind-boggling research?" Dan interjected, thankfully catching my drift and playing along. "His studies and examinations have singlehandedly changed the way that a lot of people think about probability and relativity."

"But I–" The man tried again, his brow suddenly sweaty.

"This is an outrage," Dan continued. "We're prestigious researchers and won't stand to be treated this way."

I raised my hand, trying to appear as if I'd had enough. "That's it, you know what–" I glanced at his nametag again, "–Newton, I'm going to have to insist I talk to your leading supervisor. Not Annette, but the real deal. I'm certain I made an appointment, and this infraction won't go unnoticed."

"N-no, there's no need for that," the young man -Newton- stammered. He immediately turned to his computer and began to type wildly. "I'm sure someone on the morning shift must've made a mistake, one that I'll amend I assure you."

"That's what we like to hear," Dan sniffed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw his lip twitch.

"Okay, I'm going to make you two temporary visitor's badges. They'll help you get upstairs to the archives. There, I'm sure you'll be able to figure out the way all our directories are stored, it's fairly simple. There's two ways to go about getting the information you want about the Choosing Ceremonies, the easiest is the main computer. However, if there's something you can't find, all the hard records are also stored in the books that line the walls."

"Good," Dan nodded. "We won't take long."

"Do either of you have identification?" Newton asked as he finished typing something into his keyboard. "I just need to put something down on the record that says you visited the archives."

I inched forward, staring him down for long moments with an expression that was a mix of anger at the question, and embarrassment at him for asking.

"No," I said; my answer casually threatening, succinct, and subject ending.

Newton flinched at my singular response, acting as if he'd just heard the sound of a gun being fired right next to him. He swallowed, then hesitated no more. "Uhh, okay, umm… I'll figure it out somehow."

Guilt flooded though me, because truly I hadn't wanted to intimidate the guy. However, if it was what I had to do to get the information I wanted, then so be it. Once Newton had handed us our badges, we clipped them onto our clothes and then hurried up the stairs. There, we used them to scan our way past the security door and then into the area that held the records of every past Choosing Ceremony the city had ever had.

"Dude, that was a close call," Dan said as he hurried towards the main computer. "You know, you were awfully good at spinning that story back there. Props!"

"I've had some practice," I said stiffly. Thanks to the past year I'd spent trying to hide my sorrows with alcohol, I'd come to learn a thing or two about deceit. Though not perfect, I'd grown to learn at least the basics about lying.

"Oh, right," he said, obviously catching what I'd meant. Dan's previously relieved smile faded a fraction, and I mentally kicked myself for reminding him of those dark times. Thankfully, he seemed to brighten as he read something on the screen in front of him.

"Find something?" I asked. I'd decided to look for the book that held our year, just in case the computer proved to be hard to use.

"I think so, hold on."

I nodded, and as I turned back to the shelves, I could hear Dan mumbling under his breath as he read to himself. Just as I found the book that contained our own information, I heard Dan exclaim excitedly. Tucking the hardcover under my arm, I jogged over to look over his shoulder.

"Alrighty, I found our Choosing Ceremony year," he said as he began to scroll down the list.

There, before our eyes, was row upon row of names. Though it didn't say what faction their aptitude test had given them -that was information that no one but high government officials could see- it did say where they'd originated from and if they'd transferred, where that certain person currently resided. Next to my name it read; Stronghold, Sage. Candor/Dauntless. Then next to all of that information, there was a little picture with my face on it.

"I don't see Banks," Dan said as he scrolled through the page.

"He did change his name," I said. "Look at the pictures instead."

We must've gone through the list at least ten times, but it was to no avail. The computer didn't have him listed; neither his name, nor his photo ever showed up. It was while Dan was making a last ditch effort that I remembered the book.

As I sat in the desk next to Dan, I began to skim the pages idly; not really expecting to find anything. It was probably because of this that I was thoroughly shocked when I came upon a partial photograph of his face. It was him; I'd have recognized his icy stare anywhere, even on paper.

Someone had tried to rip the page out -it was obvious due to the frayed edges that still clung to the spine of the book- but they'd missed a part. And not just any part, but the most blood-chilling piece of information I'd come across.

"Dan," I said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Look."

Dan scooted over in his wheel-chair, and as he read over my shoulder, his mouth literally dropped open. On the small fragment of paper, just above the remains of his photo, there was a red stamp that read;

Status: Deceased.