"Hello," says the woman behind the desk. "My name is Amanda Ritter. In this file I will tell you only what you need to know. I am the leader of an organization fighting for justice and peace. This fight has become increasingly more important - and consequently, nearly impossible- in the past few decades. That is because of this."
The images that unfold are horrific. People dead, dying, in danger, from others who do not regard them with hatred, but with something far worse: indifference. It is unbearable in its cruelty, both because of the violence it shows and because of its similarity to the attack simulation that just decimated our own city.
"You do not remember any of this," she says. "But if you are thinking these are the actions of a terrorist group or a tyrannical government regime, you are only partially correct. Half of the people in those pictures, committing those terrible acts, were your neighbors. Your relatives. Your coworkers. The battle we are fighting is not against a particular group. It is against human nature itself- or at least what it has become."
I look at Tris stretched out on the metal table. Is this what she expected? It is certainly not solving anything, given that the terrible story this woman is telling us sounds uncomfortably like the one we are living through. But then I notice that Tris's eyes are definitely moving under her eyelids. I stop watching the screen.
I listen, watching Tris instead, as Amanda Ritter continues, "That is why you are so important. Our struggle against violence and cruelty is only treating the symptoms of a disease, not curing it. You are the cure."
Tris's brow wrinkles a bit. I tighten my grip on her hand.
Amanda Ritter continues, explaining that when we notice a new breed among us, which she tells us to call Divergent, it will mean we are ready to emerge from this engineered isolation. She says we will be more flexible. Flexible? What does that mean? Just that we have an aptitude for multiple factions? I don't understand how that will help.
How ironic, I think. We don't even know what she means, but with those words, she condemned the very saviors she hoped for. Amar, Natalie Prior, me, Tris - who knows how many others may have been hunted and eliminated because of Amanda Ritter's plans for peace. All for some kind of genetic breeding experiment gone wrong.
"I am about to join your number," she says, with a tired smile. "Like the rest of you, I will voluntarily forget my name, my family, and my home. I will take on a new identity, with false memories and a false history. But so that you know the information I have provided you is accurate, I will tell you the name I am about to take as my own." Her smile deepens to something that looks closer to actual happiness, and I realize when she does that, there's an echo of something familiar. "My name will be Edith Prior, and there is much I am happy to forget."
I grip Tris's hand hard. I realize that everyone else in the room is utterly still. Their world, as they have known it, just came to an end. Or did it ever really exist? Either way, it was already over, I think grimly. We killed it all on our own.
Not my world, I think fiercely. I still have a chance - it is here in my hand. I see that her eyes are still moving, but they are moving less - we are losing her. No. No - I can't let that happen.
"The statue, Tris," I shout raggedly. "Think about that blue glass statue - I never had one. It never existed. My mother never gave me anything. You made it up to try to break yourself out." I beckon to Christina to come closer. "Take her other hand," I beg her. "You help her remember."
Christina nods and reaches for Tris. "Think about that woman in the prayer circle in Amity," she says to Tris, wiping her hand across her face. "That gray-haired lady who took your hand, just like this? You added her in, too, to try to wake yourself up, didn't you? She was right, Tris. You do deserve peace. You do. And that's what Will would tell you, too. None of it was your fault, and it is selfish for you to think that."
Caleb has come up to the end of the table. I tense, because I don't know if he wants to help her, or whether he even can.
"Beatrice," he says softly. "I didn't want you to see this footage. I didn't want anyone to - I didn't want anything else to change." He hangs his head. "I still think you were wrong," I glare at him, "but so was I, and it cost us our parents. I loved them, too. I did. " He reaches out and touches her foot hesitantly. "But the important thing is that you need to come back now. You're Divergent, and you're supposed to save us."
He says it so faintly, I doubt she can even hear him, but I glance up at the screen hopefully. She is standing with me in the Erudite lobby, and there is chaos all around us. We are looking only at each other, our hands intertwined, as people scream, running in and out of the building. Some are weeping and writhing on the ground. Others are holding each other or standing mute with uncomprehending eyes. I wonder if that's really what it looks like downstairs right now.
Suddenly, on screen, I reach into my pocket, pull out the blue glass statue, and hold it out to her. Tris takes it from me, with a puzzled look on her face. She stares at it for a moment, and glances over at Christina, still sitting on the ground next to her. Christina nods and Tris abruptly hurls the statue to the floor, shattering it into a thousand glittering pieces that spray and shimmer around us.
On the table, Tris gasps, and her eyes snap open. She sits up suddenly, and the electrodes and cables pop off of her, pinging against the metal table and silencing the amplified heart. The screen goes dark.
That's it, folks! Hope you liked it... I'm going to go back and edit the first chapter, though, to slim it down. Could maybe continue beyond this point, if people want me to. But I didn't originally intend to - I meant this to be an alternate version of Insurgent.
The one reviewer who said that the point of the books was to celebrate mental strength, as opposed to physical strength - I guess I agree, but I'm not sure that's the point? Tris is really able to bust the simulations because she's out of pattern, outside the norm - and the twist is that while her society considers it a great evil not to fit inside the lines, it's actually a strength - the whole reason they're there.
Thanks so much for reading!
