Chapter 41: Tris – Complications

It's a relief when a woman stops her car and offers us a ride. I'm not sure if she recognizes me from Tobias' broadcast, or if she just wants to help someone who is obviously injured, but I'm grateful either way. By now, the agony in my ribcage has become impossible to ignore, and I know I won't be able to stay upright much longer. So, I let the soldiers help me into a seat and watch as three of them join me in the vehicle. The others will have to continue on foot.

"Madam President, you really need to go to the hospital," the soldier next to me says quietly, not for the first time.

"I know," I admit, barely managing to wheeze the words out through my lungs. I swear my breathing is getting worse. "But the command center…comes first."

She sighs, but she apparently accepts my decision because she gives directions to the driver. I stare out the window as we start moving into the growing traffic, amazed by how different everything seems from inside the car. The buildings gleam in the early rays of the morning sun, looking beautiful and untroubled. And there are no sounds of suffering or stench of misery noticeable from here. This is probably how those in charge have always seen the city, I realize. The thought makes the back of my neck prickle. It shouldn't be this easy to ignore the world on the other side of the glass.

Worries pick at my mind as we drive slowly through the city streets. I can't help but think about everything that needs to be done, and about everything that could still go wrong, and about what might have already gone wrong…. At least I know that Tobias is safe – I could tell that from his broadcast – but I'm desperate for news of the others. The selfish part of me wants to throw everything else aside and look for them now, but of course I can't. There are too many lives at stake. So, instead, I try to determine my list of priorities.

The most important thing is to make sure the attack on Chicago has been called off. Without knowing the range of the transmitters, I can't tell if Tobias' broadcast reached that far or not. I have to assume it didn't, which means I need another way to get orders to the more distant parts of the army. There must be some method that NUSA uses for that; I just have to find it.

I also need to make sure that all the former government officials are taken into custody. Tobias asked people to arrest them, but I highly doubt those leaders will just roll over and let their power be taken away. They'll fight back, and they clearly have plenty of resources to help them – weapons and vehicles and hiding places and who knows what else. It will be difficult to ensure they're all captured…or killed, I suppose.

And then there's the obvious need to start building a new government. I can't do that by myself, which means I have to figure out whose help I want, and somehow get a message to those people. Unfortunately, I can't say that a bunch of names jump to mind, but I already knew that. After all, if there were a lot of good choices for this task, Tobias wouldn't have picked me in the first place. Still, it's frustrating to realize that I'm going to have to work with a combination of strangers and people I don't like. Maybe it's always that way in life….

I sigh, trying to figure out what criteria to use when selecting people, other than my instincts. I guess it would help to have people from a variety of different backgrounds, so everyone's interests are represented. And we'll definitely need a historian – someone who can teach us about different forms of government so we can pick something that works for our situation. Something that will also hold up in the future.

And we need people who can lead. I have no desire to stay president for long, and even in the meantime, I shouldn't hold all the power. We didn't learn all that much history in school, but I remember that it's never worked out well for one person to have sole power, no matter how good their intentions are.

I mentally go through the list of people I know, whether or not I like them, trying to assess them objectively against those criteria. I don't come up with many choices on the first pass, so I repeat the process, working harder to set my feelings aside. And I begin selecting.

The easiest choices are Anna and the names she gave us. I trust her enough to assume that if we were supposed to put those people in charge, they're at least worth listening to now. I add Johanna, Amar, George, Tobias, Cara, Margot, and Caleb – assuming they're all still alive. And it makes sense to include the rebels we sent to safety from Pittsburgh.

After a considerable amount of internal debate, I add Tori and Evelyn and Jack Kang to the list. They're certainly problematic, but they each add a perspective that could be helpful. Besides, I doubt any of them will leave Chicago, so it's relatively harmless to ask them. And it might ease tensions with them.

Marcus' name keeps coming to mind, but I can't get myself to select him despite his obvious experience. I suppose if some of the others really want him, I might consider it. Maybe. Either way, though, I won't be the one to make the suggestion.

It's not a long list, not nearly as long as we need. Hopefully, some of the people on it will be able to suggest others they know. If not, we'll have to come up with a way to recruit additional people – maybe ask every city to nominate those who have demonstrated leadership in their neighborhoods, and then let them vote from among the nominees. I think I'll wait on that, though. Margot might have some input on whether it's a good idea and how to go about it.

Thinking about Margot tugs other thoughts into my mind, ones that I've been successfully pushing to the back. It's harder to press them away now that I've worked out the most urgent priorities. So, as we continue our slow drive through the city, I find myself worrying about Tobias and Caleb and Christina and Uriah and Margot. And even Peter. I still don't trust him, but after everything we've been through together, I don't want to find out he's dead.

I can only hope that they're all safe and are waiting by the Control Computer. I can't head after them myself yet, but maybe I can send someone there to collect them.

It will be harder to find Amar and Cara. There's no way of knowing where they went after they escaped. With the device on Amar's head, the most sensible option would have been to hide in some dark area, but that doesn't seem like something Amar would do. It seems more likely that he'd try to rescue me or help the others. If so, maybe he's with Tobias or Caleb now. I hope so. If we have to comb the city for him, it could take days.

My eyes wander around as if looking for him, and I'm surprised to realize the sun hasn't risen much since we got into the car. I guess we haven't been driving as long as it feels like. And given how slowly we're moving, we probably haven't gone far at all. This could be a long trip.

I'm about to ask how far away the command center is when we pull up to a building. The soldiers hop out, one of them coming quickly around the car to help me. I hesitate, hating as always to accept help, but I can't deny I need it. After sitting for even that short amount of time, my body no longer wants to stand, let alone walk. So, I let the soldier ease me painfully to my feet, and I lean against her as we turn toward the building.

It's the same one I left an hour ago. The one where I was questioned and where Caleb presumably still is. The command center must be here. I feel slightly foolish as I realize that explains why there were so many soldiers guarding Amar and then me. I think of Tobias' argument that it wasn't safe to rescue Amar because we had no idea what we would be facing. He was more right than I care to admit.

But at least this gives me an opportunity to check on the others.

"Get my brother," I tell one of the soldiers as I stagger toward the building. Pain tears through my lungs again, but I force myself to continue, gasping out a few words with each breath. "He's the prisoner…who was…brought in…right after me. Bring him…to the…command center…for me."

"Yes, ma'am," the man answers. His eyes are concerned as he takes in my condition, but he sounds pleased to be able to help.

"Be gentle…with him," I add, suddenly realizing that Caleb might well be injured. "He's not…a prisoner…anymore."

The soldier smiles. "Don't worry. I'll keep him safe." I nod, amazed again at how helpful all these people are now that they've been influenced by Tobias' message. I'm not sure it's right, really – it's the same kind of brainwashing NUSA did, and even stronger. But I also don't know if it's wrong. At least this way they can eventually be free, and we have a chance to build a better society. We just have to make it all worthwhile.

"My friends…are by the…Control Computer," I tell one of the other soldiers. "Do you know…where that is?" When she shakes her head, I do my best to describe the location, as succinctly as I can gasp out, and I ask her to let them know I'm safe and to bring them to me if they want. It seems to take forever to get the words out, but when I finally finish, she heads out immediately. I let the two remaining soldiers help me walk into the building.

We take the elevator to the twentieth floor, where we're joined by a set of soldiers in slightly different uniforms. They wear the same expression as all the others – the look that shows they accept me unquestioningly as their new leader. I'm starting to think that's the only expression I'll see for however long I'm in this job.

"How can we help you, Madam President?" one of them asks cordially, almost reverently.

It's even more difficult to talk now, after walking for a bit. I'm definitely getting worse. But I speak anyway.

"I need to send…some messages…to people who…might not have…heard the broadcast. Starting with…the army that's…been sent…to Chicago."

"Yes, ma'am," the soldier responds obediently, and he leads me slowly and patiently through a series of hallways and secured doors. It takes an eternity, but eventually he opens one last door and brings me into an enormous room. I can't help but gawk a little. It's filled with computers and large tables and an incredible array of equipment I've never seen before. But he doesn't look at most of it, instead guiding me across the room to a large screen.

"Please have a seat, Madam President," he tells me. "This viewer will allow you to connect to other command centers around the country, as well as to the portable communicators that the army takes with them when they travel outside our borders."

I nod, gingerly easing my aching body onto the wooden chair. Vaguely, I wonder if I'll be able to get up again when I've finished here, but I don't let myself focus on that right now. Instead, I turn my attention to the soldier as he begins explaining how this equipment works.

It takes a while to get the hang of it. I'm just grasping the basics when the door on the other side of the room opens, and I see Caleb being led in. Relief floods through me. My brother is safe. I'm not sure what my parents would think of everything we've done in the last few days, but I know they would be glad of that much.

Caleb is looking around in awe, the same way I did at first, and I smile slightly as I watch him. But then he turns to the side, and I see that he has a device on his head like mine. A stab of fear goes through me. How much serum did they give him? Did he betray me again? I try to push the thought away, slowing my heartbeat the way I did in my fear landscape. It doesn't matter what he did or didn't say. At this point, we've won, and Tobias' broadcast should have reversed any influence NUSA had on him. I hope so anyway.

"Beatrice!" he exclaims as his eyes find me, and his face lights up with more joy than I've ever seen in him before. It's a strange effect, and for a moment I'm not sure if it's reassuring or not.

"Are you…all right?" I ask as he hurries over to me.

"Yes," he says, but his face falls as he sees my condition. "Are you?"

It occurs to me that I must look awful, hunched here in pain, with my hands still bandaged and my head partly shaved, and a receiver attached to my skull. Not to mention the fact that I haven't been able to shower in days, and I must smell almost as bad as the rest of the city.

"I'm fine," I lie. There's no point being honest – we don't have time to do anything about it anyway.

He nods stiffly, clearly not believing me but choosing for whatever reasons not to question my statement. Instead, he listens as I have the soldiers fill him in on what I'm trying to do and then continue their tutorial.

We learn how to use the equipment, and we gather enough information about the military structure to enable us to give efficient orders. To my relief, Caleb asks good questions and does much of the talking, which certainly makes life easier on me at the moment. And the soldiers work patiently with us, clearly trying their best to help us accomplish what we want. More accurately, I suppose, to help me, but it still works.

I lose track of time – it could be ten minutes or it could be an hour, but eventually we're able to give the right orders to enough of the right people to feel safe. The attack against Chicago has definitely been halted, and there's a massive effort underway to capture those most dangerous to us. We've also arranged for messages to be delivered to the people I selected, inviting them to come here and help build a new government. It will take a few days, or maybe longer, before I know who accepts the invitation.

It's enough for the moment, and when we're done, I sit back, allowing myself to feel satisfaction at everything we've just accomplished. A few hours ago, we could only dream of being this successful at our mission…..

But the relief doesn't last long. As soon as the sense of urgency passes, I find myself worrying about my friends again. They should be here by now. At the very least, the soldier I sent should have returned to say that she talked with them.

"Caleb," I say with a hint of desperation, "we need to…find the others."

He bites his lip thoughtfully, the same way I do. Abruptly, I wonder if he picked up the habit from Tobias' broadcast. The notion bothers me.

"I think," he says slowly, looking deeply concerned, "that it's more important to get you to the hospital. The others can join us there."

For a second, I just stare at him. It's not that what he's saying is unreasonable. It's that he's wearing the same expression as all the soldiers. The expression that says they all want nothing more than to help me and to take care of me, and they can't imagine anything worse than letting harm come to me. And suddenly I understand. Tobias didn't just use me as their role model. He didn't even just make me their president. He made them love me. And Caleb heard the broadcast more strongly than any of them.

A shudder passes through me at the thought. How will I ever know now how much my brother genuinely cares about me – and how much came from Tobias? How will I know that about anyone who heard the broadcast?

I close my eyes, not wanting to think about this anymore.

"I'm fine, Caleb," I say quietly. But I know my voice is tired, and I know I'm still gasping for each breath, and I know I'm getting worse by the hour.

"Beatrice," he says softly, "clearly you're not. Between the damage to your ribs and the trouble you're having breathing, you could easily have a punctured lung. You need help."

"I need…to know about…my friends," I answer bitterly. "Please."

He gazes at me for a long time, obviously debating what to do. And then he sighs. "Let's compromise," he says gently. "If you let the soldiers take you to the hospital, I'll find the others and bring them there. I promise."

Automatically, I open my mouth to say no, but the word catches in my throat. I think it must be my body's way of getting my attention, because the thing is, he's right. All I would do is slow him down, and I really do need medical attention. I nod, feeling defeated.

"Okay," I wheeze.

A small Abnegation smile crosses his face, and he helps me carefully to my feet. "I'll walk you to a car," he says reassuringly, "and then I'll go look for the others."

"Okay," I say again, clutching at him to keep myself upright. I've gotten even worse. This isn't good.

"You're…in charge…if they put…me under," I tell him as we begin walking. Someone needs to take on the responsibility, and he's here while no one else I trust is. He looks surprised, but I just glance at the soldiers to make sure they heard me. He'll need witnesses if he has to exercise power without Tobias' broadcast to back him up.

The hallways seem to have gotten longer since I entered the building. Each step is excruciating at this point, and I'm glad Caleb is so tall because I'm sure I'm putting more weight on him than on my own feet.

We're still in the middle of a long hallway when a small group of people rounds the corner ahead, turning to face us. I actually sag with relief as I see Christina and Uriah and Margot being escorted by a few soldiers. They're safe. The thought is so amazing that it takes me a second to realize Tobias isn't with them. Where is he?

"Tris!" Uriah yells enthusiastically, an enormous grin on his face as he races toward me. Christina trails behind him, her expression more restrained, and suddenly I remember the look on her face when I returned from Erudite, after Jeanine broadcast my "execution" to the entire city. She looks as if part of her is frozen, as if her relief is more likely to emerge as tears than a smile.

And as he did that day, Uriah runs toward me as if he's going to embrace me, despite my exhaustion and injuries. I'm reaching a hand up to stop him when Caleb does it for me. He shifts so his body is between us, and he places his palm firmly on Uriah's chest, halting his forward momentum.

"Not now," he says. "She's been through a lot." They're almost the same words and movements Tobias used to stop him last time, and suddenly I'm thinking of him. My eyes are moist as I remember everything he did to keep me safe that day, and in the days before that, and the days since. I want him here now. I want him holding me.

Uriah must sense my thoughts, because he says gently, "Four and Cara had to take Amar and Peter to the hospital. They're…injured." There's something strange about the way he says the word that sends dread through me, but I can't seem to find my voice at all anymore, so I just nod.

And then we're moving again, my awareness getting fuzzier as Caleb supports me on one side and Uriah on the other. It's hard to tell if the pain is actually getting worse or not because I seem to be losing my ability to stay conscious, but it feels like my insides are on fire, the burning drilling deeper into me with each ragged breath. It gets worse and worse until I finally slip into merciful darkness.

I have no idea how they get me to the hospital. I must drift in and out of consciousness, but it's hard to tell the difference right now. Even when I'm awake, I can't seem to hold a thought beyond occasional images flashing past me, breaking up waves of unendurable pain.

But somehow they must get me there, because I'm on a bed of some kind, being wheeled down a long hallway as people run on either side of me. Tobias is among them, I think, though that could just be my imagination. Given the tears on his face, it probably is. Tobias doesn't cry often, and never in front of others like this. Still, whether real or not, his eyes hold mine as the double doors close behind me. They're the last thing I remember before the world goes black.