This chapter is insane.
Be excited!
Actually though, I am so so proud of what this has turned out to be. I have a lot of ideas simmering, and the plot is really just beginning now.
Get pumped!
Happy New Year to everyone, and here's to a kickass 2015! One of my resolutions is to be a more consistent writer, so... there's that to be excited about!
Wahoo!
Now, go read my masterwork.
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"Rita Reginam," the woman said. "Now," she continued, interlacing her fingers on the desk, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions." She held up a finger, motioning for Tris to let her finish talking. "But I think you have to start out knowing that your parents were spies."
Tris stared for a moment. Spies? The word was foreign. "No…" Her mind felt like molasses, thoughts swimming slowly through the fog. "No, no."
Rita shook her head, and Tris thought she detected a glint of pity in the woman's unreadable gray eyes. "Beatrice-Tris- I know this is hard to take in, but you need to understand that-"
"No." Tris shook her head coldly. "I don't need to understand a thing of what you're telling me. This is some weird trick, or a game, but you creepy freaks in your white building don't know anything about me, and certainly nothing about my parents!" Her voice broke with emotion, and she stopped. Her chest was heaving, and she felt a lump rising in her throat. She should have known that this situation was too freaking weird, but she went a long with it, like the complete sucker that she was, because she was desperate for information. Yeah, well, lot of good that had done her. In fact, it probably would end up doing her bad. Wasn't that the way it always started in horror movies, with some unsuspecting bimbo going into a building even though it seems sketchy?
"Tris-" The man, Matthew, cleared his throat awkwardly. Unlike Rita, who was like a smug smirk machine, he seemed ill at ease, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. "We realize how weird this whole situation is, that's why we want to explain things to you. If you don't hear it from us, things for you could get… a lot worse." He and Rita exchanged a look, and then Rita reached out a neatly manicured set of fingers across the shining glass desk.
Tris snatched back her hand, disgusted. "Is this some kind of freaky cult? What do you want, money?"
Rita sighed. "Tris, we are not a cult. And we don't want anything from you. How about you listen to what we have to say, and if at the end you want nothing to do with us, you can leave, and pretend this never happened?" Her face softened, and she lowered her voice. "I knew both your parents well. Natalie and Andrew were both lovely people, and I will miss them dearly."
Trust was the last thing Tris had in mind, but despite herself, she was a curious. Also, her parents had never, ever mentioned these people, and she was intrigued, against her better judgment. She nodded slowly, and glanced back at the door. If anything were to happen, she supposed that she could try to make a break for it.
"I think that it would be best to start from the very beginning." Rita leaned back in her chair. "Matthew," she said, glancing over at the man beside her, "would you mind fetching a pot of Jasmine tea for our guest and I? Oh, and those delightful little lemon cakes?"
Matthew looked like he wanted to say something, but Rita affixed him with a stern look, and he fell silent. "Sure," he said, and got to his feet. He tugged at his shirt, and Tris was struck by how very young and unsure he looked, sweating like a beached whale in his pressed white khakis and button down. Matthew gave Rita one long stare before turning and lumbering from the room. He shut the frosted glass door behind him with an audible click, and just like that, Rita and Tris were alone in the room.
"So-" Tris licked her lips. "The beginning, you said."
"Indeed." Rita took a long breath through her noses, and exhaled it in a long, even stream. "Have you ever heard of Gregory Higginswood?"
Tris shook her head, puzzled. "No, but what-"
"Patience, Tris," Rita said evenly. "Higginswood was a scientist, biologist by training, who lived in London about thirty years ago. He lived most of his life in relative mediocrity, until one fateful day, he discovered that a certain chemical compound, injected into the bloodstream of pregnant rats at regular intervals, had the power to affect the brain chemistry of the rats that were to be born to the degree that their very personalities could be engineered."
Creepy, Tris thought. It was like Frankenstein, or something, or some insane science-fiction novel come to life.
"This was of relative unimportance until a young woman by the name of Petra- well, she's Petra Matthew's now, but she was Petra Sapientim then, came across these findings."
"What?" Tris gaped. "Janine's mother? Was there anything that was not connected by some scary web of quasi-plausible intrigue?
Rita nodded. "I agree this is complex, but please, let me continue. While I do believe she has a daughter by that name, it is, for the moment, irrelevant. She was a brilliant social scientist, and she saw the potential to take this idea and apply it to society. You were not yet alive then, but at that time crime as at an all time high. There were murders right and left, addictions that ravaged communities; corruption was running rampant at every level of government… It was madness." Rita shook her head. "But you don't want to hear about bitter nostalgia." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then continued. "Under the corporation of Erudite, LLC, she began to refine the research on brain serums of different sorts, and slowly introduced the products into the marketplace. Psychological tools, things like that."
Tris nodded. "Okay, I get that. I do, but…" she shrugged. "I still don't see how this has to do with my parents."
Rita nodded briskly. "Your parents were in school with Petra and she recognized how smart they were, and especially how discrete they were. They began working for Erudite, LLC immediately."
"So you mean…" Tris's eyes widened. This was another crazy plot twist. "You mean they worked for Erudite from the beginning?"
"Well- in a way Erudite." Rita reached forward, and with one quick, flowing motion, plucked an orchid from their glossy pot. "They mainly traveled the country, under the cover of other jobs- as I'm sure you're at least partly aware of, obtaining information about other bioengineering firms, to make sure that Erudite maintained the monopoly- and that they maintained the secrets they had procured. That and-" She ripped the flower apart, and dropped it so it fell to the desk in a flurry of shredded leaves and blossoms. "-making sure the government was three steps behind what was going on in Erudite."
Tris sat back in her seat. Her heart was pounding, and she felt hot and cold all over. Everything that she thought was true about her life was a lie. What else wasn't true? Who was she, if everything in her world was a façade? She opened her mouth, but found that she had nothing to say. She was still in freefall. Nothing was concrete, and nothing felt real.
Rita smiled, almost sadly, Tris thought. "I- we, I should say- understand how hard this is for you. You must have hundreds of questions- I certainly am sure that I would. But right now-" she reached out and took Tris's hand in her own. The older woman's skin was papery and smooth, and Tris could feel her pulse throbbing through the fine veins that danced, spiderlike, across her palm. "-We want you to know that we have your safety and comfort as our first priority. We are committed to ensuring you a high quality of life, given the circumstances."
Tris felt an odd prickling sensation in her heart. "Who-who is 'we', anyway? And why do you care? And- my safety? My parents died in an accident. Whatever their- their history was, how am I unsafe?"
Was it Tris's imagination, or did something sharp and tight pass across Rita's face? As quickly as the look had come, it was gone. Tris shook herself mentally. It was the tumult of the past days getting to her, because Rita was already fixing her with a calm gaze, her slight smile already in place.
"We are the International Agency for Genetic Purity- although we are mainly referred to only as the Agency, as the whole title is rather a mouthful. And my, my, you are a curious one." She paused, and adjusted her sleek hair, although Tris could spot no imperfection in it's glossy expanse. "We care about you because your parents were murdered by Erudite because they realized something devastating was occurring in the corporation, and you are now at risk for the same reason."
Murder.
The word hung dark and heavy and oddly dirty in the clean white room. Murder. Tris had watched "The Shining" back in middle school with some friends on a sleepover, and now, the dripping red letters flashed through her mind. But- it was so hard to contemplate. Murder was gasping and gushing blood, messy and tragic and dramatic. Murder was not a fatal car accident on the way to work on a cloudy morning.
And yet- Tris stared at Rita. The woman was telling the truth, there was no doubt about it, no doubt in the hard set of her jaw line, in the piercing weight of her eyes. Tris had answered the cryptic phone call to Four because she had wanted answers, and now she had some, so why were there tears burning in the folds of her eyes?
Rita wordlessly passed her a tissue, her lips pursed. She didn't say anything though, and Tris was grateful. She didn't know what was left to say.
They sat there for moments that could have been a few minutes and could have been millennia. The light was still and warm in the room, and Tris sat and let her thoughts be devouring hurricanes, uprooting everything and wrecking worlds. Everything was starting to fall into place. The letter that had so panicked Tris's mother, the letter from Erudite, must have been some kind of last warning. But they hadn't listened, or they'd gotten it too late, or… Tears swam from her eyes, and she blotted them aside. Things were real; she felt them now, in her heart and in her mind. The void was filled with pain. She knew, knew with a certainty she was not sure she could ever truly explain, that Rita Reginam and the Agency told her the truth. Her parents had found out too much, and so they were killed.
Finally, she let her swirling questions calm to a soft breeze, and laid down her crumpled tissue. "I have one more question. What was it that my parents found out?"
Rita nodded. "I thought you'd get to that eventually." She stood up, revealing a swooshy white silk skirt that seemed almost too girlish for the stark environment, and a pair of neat, white boots. She crossed the room in two sure, confident strides, and raised one finger in front of what appeared to be a frosty glass wall. In a second, however, there was a faint hiss, and the glass receded up towards the ceiling, opening up to a room filled, floor to ceiling, with bookshelves. Rita scanned the room for a second, and then plucked a thick, white binder from the far wall.
She exited the book-room, or whatever it was, and flicked her hand. The glass descended down again, and the room was restored to it's original proportions.
Rita sat down again opposite Tris, smiling slightly at her bemused expression. "One of the many perks of the Agency is the great technology, I must say." She placed the binder flat on the table. It was unlabeled, but in the light, Tris could make out some sort of seal embossed in the center of the cover. "This is a record of all the reports your parents made for Erudite, the classified information they obtained through their research, and all of the reports they made on the events occurring within Erudite, LLC."
"But…" Tris paused, "I thought they were spies for Erudite."
Rita smiled wolfishly. "I didn't say they only worked for Erudite. In fact, I specifically did not say that." Seeing Tris's shocked expression, she continued, "Your parents w
ere very talented individuals. And bioengineering is a field fraught with terrifying implications. Erudite realized that- they were trying to capitalize off of it. And we at the Agency recognized that- we are working to prevent it." She flipped open the binder. "The last report your parents sent us arrived the morning of their death." And indeed, above rows of neatly typed print swam the fatal date, the date that changed Tris's world.
Once again, Tris's mind spun, but she was not afraid of the new information. Her brain was already spinning, a well-oiled machine, sorting things into the correct slot. For the first time ever, a more complete picture seemed to be coming into a focus. Camera-like, each twist brought things into focus.
She nodded, slowly, and slid the binder towards her. Closing it softly, she touched the cover lightly. It was leather, buttery and smooth. For the first time today, Tris allowed herself to consider the lavishness of the Agency building, the extravagant sleekness… How rich was the organization that it could afford to cover its binders in materials nicer than Tris's handbags?
"Here we are- tea and lemon cakes." Matthew's voice shook Tris out of her contemplations, and she turned in her seat to see the young man entering the room, a tray laden with teacups, cakes, and a teapot balancing artfully on his arms. He set the tray down on the table, and crossed to take a seat next to Rita.
"Very nice." The blonde woman lifted the teapot, a sleek pearly device, and gracefully poured a bright purple liquid into an equally elegant cup. She leaned forward and inhaled deeply, but it was almost pointless- the sweet aroma of Jasmine was already wafting through the room, caressing the stark décor with its delicate softness.
Matthew followed suite, pouring a cup of tea for Tris as well.
"Now, the question of accommodation can be addressed- that is, if you want to keep the information that you have acquired today," Rita arched an eyebrow at Tris. "When we began to talk toady, I told you that if you wanted, after you listened, you could walk away, and it would be as if this never happened." Rita stopped and took a long sip of tea, before placing it down with a contented sigh.
No you didn't, Tris thought, you said I could pretend that nothing had happened. There is a difference.
"I am a woman of my word," Rita continued, "and so you can decide. Stay with us, have all of this- " she gestured towards the binder, "or-" she dropped her hands into her lap. "-You can… not. We have ways of taking away everything you have learned today, and you will be freed from the information you have gleaned."
Rita's eyes glittered darkly, and for the first time, Tris felt prickling of fear on the back of her spine.
"Oh, don't worry," Matthew burst in. "It's not as 'Star-Wars' as it sounds, really." He laughed,
Tris glanced at the binder, and then at Rita. If she left, she would have nothing but more questions. The binder gleamed, shimmering almost. It had the answers to so much, so many things about her life and her family she would never have learned any other way.
"I'll stay," she said finally, wishing it sounded less like a question, and more like a strong, empowered statement. "I'll stay."
Matthew smiled, and his face lit up. "That is just so good to hear, Tris. I think you'll find the Agency to be most helpful and gracious."
Rita nodded. "Drink your tea, though. I find that some nice Jasmine tea does wonders for stress."
Tris glanced down at the cup clasped between her hands. The tea was like none she'd ever seen before, almost glowing, a bright violet hue. She lifted it to her lips, and breathed deeply. It did have the most amazing smell, spicy and sweet and oddly calming. She took a long gulp. It tasted as good as it tasted, almost bubbling and melting in her mouth. Unlike the teas she had sometimes drank, it didn't have the weak, hot-water taste, but rather, was rich and thick and more flavorful than anything she could remember tasting.
"Good, huh?" Matthew was grinning. "I was shocked my first time having it too."
Tris could only nod as she downed another gulp.
"Now, accommodations-" Rita paused to bite into a succulent looking pale-yellow tart. "Behind this office facility, the Agency has another building dedicated to housing. We can offer you a suite, with a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen-living space duo. Does that suit your needs?"
"Uh, yeah," Tris said. "But, all my stuff…"
Rita shook her head impatiently. "We can dispatch a team to your house and get your things for you. But as for clothing-" she smiled ruefully. "I'm sure you've noticed that we only wear white. There will be a catalog available to you in your rooms, and clothes should arrive to you by tomorrow morning, at the latest."
Tris sat back in her chair, taking another long sip of tea. It was nice to have everything taken care of, she thought, downing the remains of her tea. "That all sounds perfect."
"I'm so happy to hear that," Rita said. "Matthew will direct you to your rooms. I must get to a meeting, but please, do not hesitate to approach me with any further questions or queries you feel the need to pursue."
Tris nodded, and Rita swept to her feet. "Good afternoon, Tris, Matthew," she nodded to each of them, and then swept out of the room.
"So- to your rooms?" Matthew got to his feet, stuffing the remains of a lemon cake into his mouth and wiping his hands on a crumpled napkin hurriedly.
Tris got to her feet as well. "Alright," she said. She was so calm- it was nice, not to be confused and scared. She gently picked up the binder from the desk where it lay, and lifted it to her chest. It was soft against her, and almost luxurious. What a joke, she thought, almost laughing when the thought crossed her mind. A luxurious binder.
Matthew took a last lemon cake with a rather rueful smile, and then gestured for Tris to follow him. They left the white room, the sweet smell of the tea tracing their path.
The young man lead her down first one corridor, and then another. It was like a maze, really, a maze of pristine halls filled with bustling people garbed in white. Eventually, the corridors opened up to a massive square room. It was at least a few hundred feet to the ceiling, and delicate spiral staircases lead to balconies at ten-foot increments along each wall. Each balcony was labeled- Tris caught sight of Ivory, Vermillion, Sapphire, and many more she couldn't make out stenciled in bright silver on white placards filled with light from an arching glass ceiling. "This is the main housing square," Matthew explained, "Each of the balconies is a different level of suites. Below this square are the communal areas."
Tris nodded, once again slightly overwhelmed. It was beautiful and considering the grand scare the buildings were on, she had no idea how she hadn't noticed it before. Then again, there were clearly a lot of things about her life she hadn't noticed, she thought bitterly.
"You are in…." Matthew consulted a piece of paper he drew from his pocket, "Sapphire 17." He pointed to the third level above the main area. "Up there."
Without checking to see if Tris was behind him, he took off up the staircase. Tris followed him up, wondering what her rooms would look like.
She found it only a few seconds. At the third level, Matthew swung into a hallway, and then stopped in front of a frosted-glass labeled "seventeen" in the same neat print that seemed to dominate the décor.
"Home sweet home," wheezed Matthew, still red-cheeked and panting from the ascent to the room. "Just hold up your finger, it'll recognize your body scan."
Feeling somewhat foolish, despite everything she had seen so far, Tris held up her finger in front of the door.
As promised, the door slid open sleekly.
"There you go," Matthew said, slightly less breathlessly. "I need to get going, but…" He trailed off awkwardly. "Yeah."
"Yeah," Tris echoed. There didn't seem to be much else to say.
Matthew nodded awkwardly a last time, and then turned and left, leaving nothing but the faint smell of sweat and jasmine behind him.
Tris walked through the door, feeling oddly apprehensive suddenly. As she had seen Rita do earlier, she raised a finger and the door shut softly behind her. The room was dark, and she peered into the dimness.
She was in the midst of fumbling along the wall for a light switch (if those things weren't way too low-tech for the Agency) when a familiar voice bounced into the room.
"Well hello there!"
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