The Agony of Landing
It was the passing of a grateful moment realizing Jules was gone. The morning sun was already hot, I had to be Eric the Leader again, the memory of last night hiding deep. I wouldn't have to watch her walk away, slip form my hands. It is better this way. Color has left my eyes, what little was there now grey and dull; the sky flat, the grass lifeless. I mechanically go through the day, looking beyond the faces, beyond the targets and ammo, wishing I could walk in front of a gun, to feel something. It would be pain instead of heartache, blood instead of tears, a life for a soul. Its a fleeting thought, I'd rather shut down than shut off, so I shrug that away.
Needing to focus everything away, today will be about final rankings, physical performance, the mental game before the third stage. The sound of metal impaled into dummies is a wanted distraction, filling my wandering brain. The idea that most of Dauntless snipers have never actually put a bullet through the brain of anyone, make me wonder how bad they are itching to do so. They control everything, their breath, their grip, they are train to restrain it. They choose whether it is death or to debilitate, never getting to do what they are best at, unless Jeanine has her way. They are our biggest assets, always ready to pounce, never getting to pull the trigger. Fours trainee's did little to amaze me, nothing would save them anyway. Not sure what Four was thinking in a second chance but to waste me time. I made that very aware as I was scoring them.
I watch as my group gets ready for the final stage, some ware the unknown more than others. Lacking in confidence questions calling on inner bravery, knowing what your made of, taking a bullet regardless of the pain. Watching the best soldier crumble in the slightest test of courage, I need to know what these initiates are made of. The sorting of them, even with a few of Four's promising ones, I keep a tally going to Jeanine. What ever fate they will face won't be a Dauntless death, but of my choosing, and with that the fear of knowing how they will die, if they are allowed. Sending someone factionless meant they were left to their own devices, they lived or died on their own. I know I will send those on the fringe into the hands of someone I am not sure I trust with her intentions. Tortured lab rats, tested to the end of their will, or a quick death. I hope the latter, for my own peace.
"Nice cluster" Ash is getting cocky, grouping in a smile. Need to knock her down a bit.
"Thanks," a little to proud of herself.
"Put one through the throat" a slight gravel rubbing in my thoat
"I'm empty", she forces herself not to look at me, just down at her clip.
"Then load it and put one through the throat, I can't have screaming in fire fights, we just want kills." She fumbles with a quick reload, her hand start shaking as I breathe down her neck. "FASTER, are you going to throw your gun at them, FASTER". She shoulders her rifle, and gets off a shot but misses, ricocheting off the brick, red dust scattered in the wind. "AGAIN", her whole body shaking with the thrust of my voice, fires again and misses the mark, "AGAIN", and this time she got what I asked, a messy kill shot.
Silence, no one dares to move, the rifle rattling in her hands, she keeps me in her periphery, still not trusting anything I do. "What did we all learn for this?", an echo rattle glass in a loose window. "Well?"
A small figure steps forward, Zarah, my smartest, looks straight through me. "Waste not, one clean shot is all that's needed. Stay focused". Text book, mechanical, but still right.
"Extra points to Zarah. Ash," putting my finger through her shoulder, "you better hope I forget this during scoring," she turns away from me, small and impish. "Dismissed for now, the chair is open, I'll be there to work on sims. I expect to see improvements. Combined mats tomorrow." I pocket Ash in the back of my head for Jeannine, she will be useless on the fence, so that's one, four to go.
A walk through the pit for food, Jules outline, sitting alone on a bench, floods my head with everything I was avoiding. I turn and head the other way, I lie to myself that a chance with talk to Max will be a good thing, to prod about Jeannine next test, and to shake out more about Amar.
His working quarters are flooded with light, half walls divided him form others, dust seems to be dancing in the rays, and it never seems to land. An old metal sliding door frozen on its tracks would give him privacy, I doubt it has moved in 100 years. This is one of the quietest places in all of Dauntless, leaders are supposed to clear their heads, make quality decisions, of which are mostly made it the pit, over a drink and without consequence. My quarters had no such space, my windows always in shade, the hum of surveillance hub drilling through the walls.
Max is still, staring out into nothing, hands clasped, deep in thought. My knuckles hit a hardened rivet, I regret knocking at all.
"And...?" Annoyance falls across his face.
"That narrows it down. Where do you want me to start?"
"What do you think really happened?" His eyes narrow, reading my every move.
"The report was a slip during a train jump."
"Do you believe everything you read?"
"No. Hell no."
"So,"
"Did anyone identify his body? Where was he coming from? Why has he been alone among the factionless?"
"Spoken like a true Candor." A devious smile hints at his lips. "Don't worry, you would be a great Intelligence Officer if you wanted to step down."
My face suddenly hot, a snide remark churning in my gut, a sudden loss of trust in Max. I question how he sees me most of the time, I begin to question what he thinks I made of now for the rest.
"Candor's honesty or lack for sharing all is tarnishing their pure white backdrop of clarity. I bet it goes beyond what we've been told, and without evidence, we got nothing. What happened to your girl in the chair, Mary?"
"Marin, Jax daughter, Jeanine got her."
"Well, no trail to follow to Amar. Keep finding them, what Jeannine suddenly needs them for, I'm not sure. It was easier the old way."
A pause, he rubs his knuckles like a retired fighter itchy to slug someone, a moth beats against the window.
"What about that cut off?"
"Most won't be mine, I tagged one. See how the sims shake out. We don't get them back, right?"
"No intention to."
"If we are amplifying what we are intended to do, why is this class so disposable, it's it the highest volume of bodies at the lowest rank? How many more tests are we going to give up for someone else's curiosity?"
A held breath tells me more than any words would allow. He can't tell me, or he doesn't know either. If we are both pawns, what are we really diving into, are the faction layers that bendable, the divisions meant to work in symbioses network, all lies fed to children to play follow the leader, without question.
"So it really doesn't matter, save the top 10, and the rest will do shake out to Jeannine, and if something escalates and I don't have reserves, then what?...refill next year and hope what we know in the factionless isn't true." I was out of breathe, my chest hurt, our eyes met with an understanding, Dauntless is an afterthought, we don't have control.
"It is not for you to decide what we are going to about what we are learning about the underground. Keep it up, you can join the bullet catchers if you are so worried about them."
I was seeing red, if he said anything after, I didn't hear it, couldn't comprehend it, didn't want to know. I can get tagged for asking to many questions and would be just as expendable as the weakest on the board. I have to play smart, if I want to stay alive.
"Fine" I had to be careful and control my anger. My leadership was a farce, and I fell for it, I am deciding to play the part for now, because that's what will keep me alive. I wonder how much Four knew, I am suddenly jealous of his freedom from this web I am tangled in.
Alone in the hall, I drift back to last night, everything I could have ever wanted, didn't know I even wanted it, I had. Its cruel today, that we have to act like it didn't happen, we don't exist, our tomorrow doesn't have a horizon. What I did was torture, for me, for something else than just lust and chase. I was fine, until I drank from another bottle, and now it's empty, I can't have another.
Jen joins me for the afternoon, time in the heads of others is better than everything rolling around in mine. They work through their fears, I get them to focus and how, not what, I think of how I could save 1 on the fringe, time would do him good, of which he doesn't have. I could send him out, get him lower to send him factionless, or hope some has a great big fall. But I rank him honestly, and hope he doesn't end behind Jeannine glass. I tally all the intiates, Four has submitted his as well.
I close my eyes and not look at the read out, I know the top 5 haven't changed, maybe shuffled themselves around a bit, but for the most part they have been solid. I fear looking into the red, my walls are falling no matter what I do; drifting a glance down further, it has come true, Jules sits in fourth from the line. I signed her execution order with my own insecurities, handing her over to a face the unknown. I can't say anything without hanging myself, and little that would help her.