Caleb's POV
The mission today is to go to the sim room. I also need to help Rhiannon make the chemical bombs. What were they, right, flashbangs. It's a catchy name. It does sound that we are really up to something now. It is really valuable to bring those three into my group. Well, they are doing most of the work.
The flash drive with the program lies in my cabinet, inside the pocket of a hoodie. Tristan came by to drop it over yesterday.
I need to find the Rhiannon and go to the Simulations department today. Jeanine plans need to be known before we can come up with plans to counter her.
The key to my cabinet always lies inside one of my shoes. I wonder if I am going to have a key shaped depression on one of my feet permanently. I know, I should slice open the sole and slip the key inside but I am too lazy to do so.
We exchanged our contact numbers yesterday. I have Tristan, Anahita and Rhiannon's number stored in my tab and they have mine. The tabs have an ordinary function of text messaging, although voice transmission is not available yet. There are ancient mobile towers strewn around the city which are covered in a layer of rust and dust an inch deep. Restoring them would take a lot of time, years even. The city does not have enough money to do that.
I need to find her quickly. I set off from the Transfer dorm, intent on finding her. I quickly open the messaging app on my tab.
Caleb Prior: Hey, we have to go to the simulations dept. today.
I send this text to her. I know I'll be obsessively checking it for a reply. All of this is so new to me.
I see that Tristan is still sleeping. There is a dangerous looking spit bubble looming right over his face. I wonder when it will burst and his face will get messed up. Anahita would break up with him if she saw him sleeping like this.
There is still an hour to go before that blasted speaker blares with that disgusting alarm. The dorm is dark with all the windows and curtains pulled tight. I pull a pale blue curtain situated to the far side of the wall and I am startled by the bright light streaming in.
It takes a minute for my eyes to get adjusted. I look out of the window. The pane is entirely made of glass; I wonder how beautiful it would look when there's rain falling on it. The window points toward the Candor area. The enormous black and white building, topped with a metal set of uneven scales stands like a sentinel watching over the city.
The common area is bustling with life. There are children, dressed in all of the five colours going to school. I know if I follow the broad, curved road I would go right back to home in Abnegation. But I don't know if I want to.
The children are flanked by some stray members of the factionless. There is a clear divide between them, the children avoid them like the plague, except one little Abnegation girl, not more than ten, hands an old man a piece of food.
The scene is too painful to take in. I draw the curtain across and lie in my bed, reading an e-book on demographics. I know if we don't turn in the project in five days, we will be in a serious situation, but it doesn't mean I want to do it. Our plans seem far more interesting.
Then my tab dings with a message.
Rhiannon White: Okay, come to the forge after today's class. I'll be there.
The alarm rings with a distinctive shrill note. I'll never get used to it. I was always woken up by my mom every day.
I put together some ideas for my demographics project. I should have listened to her before dismissing her idea completely. This was the reason that made us fight. We should make a project on the Erudite population so as to not look extremely suspicious in their eyes. I know I may have already launched myself a few notches up on their hit list. I was an intelligent fool to have pulled that stunt with stealing the Erudite initiation record from Alev's office.
I steel myself up and go into Examination Hall 1, my home for the rest of initiation.
…
"What are you doing here?" I say to Rhiannon.
"What do you think, Sherlock?" She replies irritably, not looking at me.
"Nothing, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to the simulation department with me, to extract the source information." It's better to not irritate someone working so intently, like she is. She has photocopies of the blueprints, spread out on the table, which make no sense to me. I wonder why aren't blueprints blue?
The room, situated in a corner of the forge is completely cluttered with a huge collection of sculptures, made with pieces of junk metal. All of them have their unique beauty. I spy beautiful sculptures made with pieces of shattered glass, which are completely different from the ones made with computer motherboards and rusted pieces of steel.
This is my first time wandering so deep into the forge. I wonder who made these beautiful sculptures. Rhiannon works by herself on the table, not acknowledging my presence at all. I want to scare her by whispering into her ear but I think I will earn a stab in the neck with a screwdriver if I do that. I know I would absolutely deserve it, then.
"Do you want to come with me to the simulations department?"I ask her again.
"I have a lot of work here. I need to work overtime of you want the flashbangs and stun batons completed. Anyway, I have a big shopping list for you. It's to make the flashbangs. I want them by today." She hands me a long sheet of paper. I look at the sheet and my eyes blow wide. It goes somewhat like this-
1. Potassium Nitrate (Saltpetre)
2. Powdered sugar
3. Measuring cylinder (A very accurate one)
4. Gunpowder (If you don't get it, bring the following ingredients-)
a. Potassium Nitrate
b. Charcoal
c. Elemental sulphur powder
5. Thin Cardboard (Lots of it)
6. Four 9v batteries (If you don't get them, I'll find something in the forge.)
7. A very big wooden or glass box that is airtight (It's to store the gunpowder so that it doesn't explode.)
8. Elemental magnesium powder
9. Four hollow plastic shafts, any kind. (Preferably one with a radius of at least 2 centimetres.)
I look at the detailed list. It sounds like my mom's notes she left on the dinner table when she was away from home for some reason. Her notes had similarly detailed information, like where to find the food, chores we had to do and what desserts would be handed out if we slack on the chores and a promise for a treat if we did them properly. It sounds like a bribe, even I thought so, so I usually refused the oatmeal cookie she gave for being a good boy. It brings a smile to my face for some reason.
"What are you smiling at?" She asks.
"Nothing." She would probably be offended if I say that she reminds me of my mom.
"You are so weird, anyway, who am I to judge? I have been known for laughing in my sleep, for god knows what reasons." She smiles that winning smile at me, her hazel eyes shining and her bangs falling onto her forehead. My guts travel into my skull and bunch up into tiny knots to fit in there.
"Really? If makes you uncomfortable, I would like to change the topic, who made these sculptures?" I ask nervously.
"I did." She says sadly. Her sad face hurts me more than the awkward face. Her eyes travel down.
"They are so beautiful." I try to sound in awe as much as possible. I know I tried too hard; my words came out as a whisper. To compensate, I rest my hand on her head, she's so small. Just like Beatrice. I want to mess her hair but I am worried that it will look too much like what a big brother would do.
"Now get your butt out of here and bring me all that I need. I remember you had to go to the simulations department as well. Let me work peacefully." Her voice takes on an abrasive and surprised tone. But it's undeniably cute. I dare not call her that, or she will freeze up again, like the last time I tried to impress her with my sheer awkwardness. That was the best entry for my personal 'wall of stupidity', and believe me, that wall is a kilometre long.
…
It's time for serious business now. I go to the second floor of the main building, where the media house and the Simulations and Sera department is located. I enter the wooden door marked with a chrome label which announces the Simulations department to the entire world.
"Hello, how may I help you?" The lady at the helpdesk says.
"I want to know about the different serums used in research." I flash the silver card at her. She complies immediately and lets me in.
"May I know what do you exactly want by accessing the serum data?" She asks.
"It's a simple project that I wanted to do." I reply.'
"Okay, you are allowed to access the main computer." She gives me another card, which is green.
"Plug that card into the metallic box beside the main computer. You will be allowed to access the computer for ten minutes. The computer is situated beyond the glass wall and beside the work tables." She says.
"Thank you."
I go beyond the glass wall and only now do I notice the people there. They are on big worktables, all of them in front of a computer screen. There is another glass wall, thicker than the last, inscribed with 'Simulation Testing Area. Approach with Caution' in dark blue enamel.
There is a person sitting on that chair, probably a factionless person (indicated by his mixed colour clothing), with electrodes plugged onto his head. Another person stands in front of him, recording the results on a tablet, which seems millennia ahead of my own humble device. A few Erudite are inside that room, surrounded by test tubes filled with clear and opaque liquids.
I find the main computer kept on an aisle in the middle of the worktables and the testing room. It occupies the wall completely. The juggernaut has a million other wires, ports, external hard disks and whatnot connected to it. I grip the flash drive in my pocket, feeling its metal coolness. It is only a couple of centimetres lengthwise. I think I could conceal it by hiding the ports on the CPU itself with my leg. That would be better. There are other male-female USB cable ports connected to it, but all of them are on the table. I only hope that the ports on the CPU are empty.
I sit on the chair facing the computer. The whole monster seems pretty intimidating, what with it announcing 'Password Key Required For Access, 10 Attempts Left Till Factory Reset' in bold green font across its monitor.
I don't need a password. I grab the green card the lady at the helpdesk gave me. I insert it into the strange contraption plugged into the machine. It is like a small version of the machine which is used when currency cards are swiped for paying the price of something. I check the CPU for empty USB ports. There is one, which is accessed after I pull a plastic panel down.
The device grants access as soon as I put the pass inside that card cuboid. I remember I have only ten minutes to complete the job.
I pull the panel down and plug the flash drive into the USB port. The program starts transferring into the computer immediately. It is a big one; it will take quite some time. I put my leg in front of the whole panel, covering it completely. It's not foolproof, but I have to be sure to not look extra suspicious.
I hide the window which shows the file transfer and open a random file from the archives, one on ordinary simulation serum. I am sure to not open Serum D2's file, because I am pretty sure that the file is highly classified and opening it could result in alarms, firewalls, etc.
I pretend to read the document on the serum. It is not interesting at all. It has a lot of technical terms, which make naught sense to me. I check the window discreetly, not even half of it is done, and four minutes are already over.
I hope that it will be transferred into the computer. A major mess-up is on the cards if it does not.
Finally it gets done, just before the ten minute mark. The 'Error- Timed Out' message arrives just after. I eject the flash drive and grab the green pass. I hand it over to the desk lady and am on my way out.
The whole thing makes me feel like a freaking secret agent.
…
The next thing to do is to dig the stuff that on Rhiannon's list. I know I need to go into the dump behind the forge. It disgusts me so much.
I need to get the chemicals first. I open the floor plans of Erudite on my tab and find the different locations of the Chemistry labs. Three of them are in the main building itself while one is in the misc. manufacturing unit. I think the manufacturing unit's lab will look less suspicious.
I am pretty sure that no one would be willing to hand over gunpowder to me. I think about my approach. The 'studious student' template has been used many times over. I need to act like a hyperactive kid who wants to blow stuff up. All for science!
The chemicals here are pretty dangerous. It would spell disaster if I mishandle them.
I make my way to the miscellaneous manufacturing compound. It is four floors high, with the chemistry lab on the topmost one.
…
"Oh, what do you mean? I need some Magnesium; I am doing a science experiment!"
"Mr. Prior, it is not advisable to put Magnesium powder in nitric acid. I can tell you the results of it, Magnesium will form Magnesium nitrate and the liberated hydrogen gas will make the whole area fire-prone." The person says.
"But I want to do it for science!" I sound like a petulant child.
"Are you sure that you will take the adequate precautions, 100 gram of magnesium is a lot for a simple science experiment. And why do you want a kilogram of saltpetre?" He says.
"I need that much of Magnesium for another project, and I want a bigger explosion!" I scream explosion like a child. It's pretty tiring speaking in that squeak.
"And, my mom has a big flower bed that she wants to fertilise." I am not even sure if saltpetre is used for treating soil, but with the looks of his face, it seems like I said the correct thing.
"Okay, you may take it, but remember that all of it is going into our records." He warns. I don't care about records. Let them put my name wherever they want to. That psycho kid demeanour is getting to my head. I decide to let that psycho rule for a while.
The inside of the lab is like a crazy scientist's shopping mall. There are glass jars full of chemicals, and they are marked with plastic labels with their chemical name and chemical formula.
I pick out the chemicals out with a tiny plastic spade which measures out ten grams. I put them into tiny plastic bags which hold fifty grams exactly. All of that information was handed out by the lab assistant who stands beside me. Who began his drone about lab precautions. I needed to look in character, so I cut him off whenever the word 'warning' or 'precaution' dropped from his mouth.
It is such a chore. I need ten shovelfuls of Magnesium powder, one hundred shovelfuls of saltpetre, five shovelfuls of Sulphur and so many other things.
When my arm is just about to drop from measuring shovel after shovel of chemicals and filling them into plastic bags, I finish.
"Thank you." I say after he finishes packing them up. (Securely, of course. You wouldn't want anything exploding.)
…
Getting powdered sugar from the café was a pretty easy thing. I tell that I am going to make a cupcake for my girlfriend. I didn't know middle aged ladies had an enormous part of their souls addicted to romance novels. The ladies wished me luck, even offered a printed recipe of a simple chocolate cake. They told me to slather the frosting thick to make the girl stay at my side always. That made me imagine bashfully what it would be like to bake cookies for Rhiannon, and getting my hair filled with flour in the process.
I should have done this earlier, when I was craving for an enormous tub of ice-cream.
I need to go to the dump now. It makes me cringe.
…
I hide the enormous shopping bag in my cabinet and lock it. Thank goodness that there's no one there.
I return after an hour post sunset. There is warm, dirty automobile juice running down, down my neck. My face and my shirt have at least ten grease stains. I would have loved to give you the details but I don't want to make you puke. Just think that the whole ordeal involved a mattress filled with maggots, some really big black mice, a huge rusty blade and four old PVC pipes of the perfect thickness, which rest in my hand and a thick bundle of relatively dry cardboard. I used that blade to hack off four half metre long pieces from a five metre long portion part of a much bigger assembly of them.
…
"Hey!" I shout, completely ignoring the fact that there's still some juice on my neck.
"What happened?" She is completely startled. I flash a smile which says 'hooray!' and 'sorry' at the same time.
"Can I ask why is old engine oil dripping from your neck and you have the general deportment of a triumphant gold digger?" She asks.
"I wanted to drop these PVC pipes and cardboard here. I have the rest of the supplies stowed away in my cabinet."
"Okay, keep these on my table. The next time, don't put supplies in your dorm cabinet; bring them here, where I have a broom closet at the back which no one uses." She replies.
"It is locked?"
"Yeah, but don't tell anyone that I stole the key from the help desk there. No one has noticed till now." We now have a hiding place where we can store anything.
"Okay." I say.
"Okay." She affirms.
We aren't making the flashbangs now. There is some pretty explosive stuff involved, like gunpowder and Magnesium. So, we do what we are experts in- fooling around.
…
"You look so handsome in these!" Rhiannon exclaims. She has put a pair of thick black glasses on my nose. "See!" She is a hyperexcited toddler by now, and hands me a rectangle of highly polished metal. I squint at the rectangle, I have 20/20 vision but the glasses are made for someone with not so perfect vision, like her.
I glance at my face in there. There is quite a lot of truth in Rhiannon's statement. I don't want to speak about myself but there is certainly a part which cannot help but look (stare) at the mirror.
I look like an intelligent person, one who has shed all resemblances of Abnegation life.
I look like an Erudite, in the flesh.
…
Okay? Okay. I think this reference is painfully obvious. The song in the last chapter was 'Secret' by the Pierces. That song gives me the creeps. 'Cause two can keep a secret when one of them is dead.' That line makes me expect a masked man with a knife behind my back. The reference in this chapter is a Green Day song from 1992. Well, should I make the both of them kiss? The answer is pretty obvious but I am in a dilemma. Obviously, I have never written kissing scenes before, so it's gonna be weird. Oh so weird. I only have imagined scenes like that, but with only Will and Nico. I read Trials Of Apollo, and damn those cliffhangers, Uncle Rick practically confirmed that they are together. *squeals internally so bad that it's above the hearing range of a human*. Oh man, I have so many gay ships, ranging from Will and Nico and Simon and ... (I'm not telling the name because it would spoil the story for you.) from Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda. But don't tell my mom.
Sneaky goodbyes,
TheVibrantNight