“I’m going with him.” I turn to him. “I’m not going to let you risk your life alone. You’ll need protection.”
“Absolutely not,” my mother says, which almost makes me laugh. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t know why you think you can still tell me what to do,” I say, more harshly than I intend to. Her face tightens. The pain is still fresh from Baby’s rejection of me, so I know how she feels. “I’ll be fine,” I say, more kindly. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’ll go too,” Kay offers. “It’s time to bring that bastard down.”
“There’s a problem,” Dr. Samuel tells us. “I don’t know the combination to Dr. Reynolds’s safe . . . and I know of only one other person who might.”
My mother nods. “Richard.”
Rice. We were trying to keep him out of danger, but there’s no way now. We need him. If Dr. Reynolds is out of the way, Baby will be safe.
“Call him,” I tell my mother.
She puts her hand to her ear. “Richard, will you please meet me in conference room 1B? I have some data I need to share with you.” She listens. “Okay, see you in five.” She drops her hand. “He’s on his way.”
“Good.” Finally all the pieces are falling into place. I’m actually doing something.
My mother moves to me, puts an arm around my shoulders, and I let her. The anger I felt toward her has deflated. I know she was in a horrible situation. At least now she’s trying to make it right.
When Rice steps through the door, he looks from me to my mother and back again. “I should have known you’d be up to something,” he says with a slight smile. He takes off his glasses and cleans them, then puts them back on. His blue eyes shine at me through them.
“Well?” he asks. “How can I help?”
Chapter Forty
Kay and I trail Rice down the hall. My hands are sweating inside the fabric of my synth-suit, even as its quick-drying fabric seeps the moisture away. I’m rubbing them together nervously when Kay tilts her head toward me, and even though her face is covered, I can tell she is giving me a look. I drop my hands to my sides and do my best to walk with confidence and look like a badass member of the Elite Eight.
It wasn’t hard to convince Rice to join us in our campaign to overthrow Dr. Reynolds. After hearing our plan, he agreed without hesitation. Still, I can tell by the pinched expression on his face when he glances back at me in the hall that he’s unhappy we waited so long to include him.
It was harder to convince Dr. Samuels that he was no longer necessary. Rice had the Level One Clearance we required, as well as the combination to Dr. Reynolds’s safe. Eventually he relented when Kay flat-out told him that he would slow us down. Blunt, but effective. Meanwhile, my mother is back at her office, organizing information, trying to decide the best way to present it all to the people of New Hope.
Rice gets us into the general lab area with no problem. No one questions Rice as we move through, as everyone knows he’s the assistant director and Dr. Reynolds’s pet. I’m beginning to think things will all fall our way when a familiar voice from the far side of the floor calls, “Richard . . . why are those Guardians in here?”
We freeze. Heads turn to us all across the lab as an older woman with blonde-gray hair pulled tightly in a bun moves quickly toward us. My stomach turns. It’s Dr. Thorpe, my doctor from the Ward. Though she didn’t agree with his diagnosis of my psychosis and Dr. Reynolds’s heavy-handed use of sedatives and experimental treatments, that didn’t stop her from helping Dr. Reynolds torture me.
“Miranda,” Rice calls to her, as though delighted to see her. Smiling too widely, he explains that Dr. Reynolds requested him to lead the Guardians through a routine examination of security measures.
Dr. Thorpe narrows her eyes and looks me and Kay up and down. “Marcus is responsible for security checks,” she says.
“Marcus was called away,” Rice tells her. “He had to check on the situation in Fort Black.”
“I see,” says Dr. Thorpe, nodding. “It’s interesting that you’re taking such an active role in security, Richard.”
“I needed to step away from my research,” Rice says. “Clear my head. Though what I really need is a night’s sleep.”
“Yes, don’t we all?” Thorpe says. “Well, just let me check in with Dr. Reynolds about this change. If you’d please just stay put until I come back?”
“Certainly,” Rice says calmly.
But as Dr. Thorpe steps through the door into her office, Rice slips in after her and, out of sight of the large lab, snatches her hand away from her ear before she can make the call.
“That won’t be necessary,” he says. His voice is calm, but his fingers bite into the flesh of Dr. Thorpe’s arm.
Dr. Thorpe’s eyes widen. “Release me at once, Richard.” Her eyes dart to me and Kay, now standing in the doorway. “What is this about?”
Before Rice can answer, I step forward. I remember Dr. Thorpe’s concern while discussing my medications with Dr. Reynolds. She pushed back against him, but in the end she relented, too scared to cross him. We need her as an ally. Careful to position my body away from the security cameras in the lab behind me, I pull down my hood and flash my face at her. Her hand flies to her mouth, her skin draining of color. She takes a step back, speechless. I pull my hood back up.
Rice loosens his grip on her arm slightly but still keeps her in his grasp. “Miranda, I know you don’t agree with all that you’ve witnessed here, everything we’ve been forced to become a part of.”
But Dr. Thorpe is looking past him at me. “Dr. Reynolds said you’d be back,” she says. “I thought he was just being paranoid. He’s been so . . . unpredictable lately.”
“He’s more than just unpredictable,” I say, “and you know it. That’s why you have to help us stop him.” Her eyes flash away to Rice, then behind her as though Reynolds might be lurking there. “I know you’re scared of him,” I say, “of what he can do to you, but he has to be stopped.”
Dr. Thorpe shakes her head. “Stop him? What are you thinking?” she hisses. “You can’t imagine he’ll step aside willingly.”
“Not willingly, no,” Rice tells her. “But maybe without bloodshed.”
Dr. Thorpe’s eyes widen.
“It can be done,” Rice says.
“Why are we wasting time trying to convince her?” Kay asks, pulling me inside the office with her and pressing the door closed with her back. “We need to figure out something to do with her before someone else comes along.”
“Do with me?” Dr. Thorpe shrinks back.
“She’s right.” I wanted Dr. Thorpe on our side. I thought I had seen something in her when I was in the Ward, but maybe I was wrong.
“Do with me?” Dr. Thorpe says again, then turns to Rice. “Oh, Richard, they’re not going to—”
“No,” Rice assures her. “We won’t hurt you.”
A quick rapping on the door turns Kay and me around. A researcher stands on the other side of the glass, an armful of folders clutched to his chest. He’s not even looking at us as he waits for the door to be opened; his attention is fastened on the chart he’s holding. There’s nothing to do but let Dr. Thorpe pull away from Rice and answer the door.
“Yes?” she asks.
The researcher hands her the chart and finally does take the rest of us in as Dr. Thorpe studies it. Like all the researchers, he looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. His bloodshot eyes move over each of us in turn but give no sign of actually registering what he sees, or the way Dr. Thorpe’s hands tremble as she makes a note on the chart and hands it back to him. “See to it that Dr. Reynolds gets that when he finishes with his psyche-evals.”