The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)(96)

“Well, I have a vehicle. Thomas warned me not to let you go off half-cocked, but I’ll be damned if I see another boy get hurt if I can avoid it. Especially not Tim.”

I was already moving, heading upstairs to grab my bag. I opened the door to our makeshift hospital, and Dr. Tierney looked up at me in surprise.

“We just got word about Tim,” I explained quickly. “Owen is here, and he’s going to take me out to go look for him. Can you handle things until I get back? Any problems, you can just get a hold of me on Owen’s handheld. No, better—I’ll bring an extra one just in case.”

“All right,” Dr. Tierney said, standing up. “But, Violet, are you sure you’re feeling well enough to—”

“It’s Tim, Doc,” I said. “I have to try.”

Her mouth hardened as though she were holding in some comment, but she nodded. “Be careful, all right?”

“I will be,” I promised, straightening up and closing the door. I moved down the hall toward the room Viggo and I had been sleeping in, where I grabbed my bag before heading back to the kitchen, where Owen was waiting.

“I’m ready,” I said.

He looked me over, nodding. “Good. Let’s go.”





37





Viggo





The darkness in the stadium held for five seconds, and then ten, and I shot a glance at Cad, who shrugged and began checking the wiring leading to the box the tech had brought. Little glittering lights from the console glowed against his face, so at least there was power moving through parts of the room… I turned, prepared to have Jeff get on the subvocalizer to Thomas, when the massive screens over the seats lit up, throwing a blue glow over the crowds below, and lighting up the faces of those who stood in the room with me.

I moved over to the windows, watching as the symbol of the Matrian flag—a curved grain of wheat—flashed across the screen. The image held, and then faded. Then words, blocky and white, appeared:

Citizens of Patrus—you have been lied to.

Tabitha’s face filled the screen, her face smug. “What’s done is done—Patrus had no idea what was happening, and now they’ll see us as their saviors.”

It faded, followed by the words, King Maxen lives.

King Maxen’s image filled the screen, his expression imperious. “Citizens of Patrus! I am alive and well, but hidden away from Elena’s forces. To prove this was not previously recorded, I should tell you what only the darkest rumors have alluded to: I was there when the palace fell.”

Even I had a visceral reaction to his face on the screen, and I could tell, even from up here, the crowd below felt the same way. It had been a smart idea on Thomas’ part to include video of the king; his death was one of the biggest lies Elena had fed to the populace. No doubt she would try to spin it—but this would be hard to spin.

“The king can be dealt with,” Tabitha sneered on the screen. “Perhaps he’ll go insane after being kidnapped by terrorists and have to spend the rest of his life taking his own drugs… Perhaps he’ll get in a fight with the Chancellor and fall down some stairs…”

“In spite of the late Princess Tabitha’s claims, I have not been taken by terrorists,” said the king, his face returning to the screen. “But rather, patriots of humanity.” I smirked, knowing that last bit had been Violet’s idea. According to Ms. Dale, it had taken Maxen several takes before he could say it without a sneer. “They sheltered me, kept me safe… and many of them originally hail from Matrus. But they saw their government’s corruption, and chose to take a stand, to help us. While the ideological differences of the past have kept us apart, these individuals have chosen to overlook them in order to help free us from this tyranny.”

The screen switched back to Tabitha. “As soon as our scientists crack the code, we’ll be on our way to creating a new race of humans, far superior to what your kind has churned out for the last few generations.”

“As you can see,” the king continued, “Princess Tabitha and her sister, Queen Elena, have been working on a plan to supplant us all with a new race of humans, capable of extraordinary feats of strength, speed, invulnerability. You see…”

I turned my gaze away from the screen and looked out at the crowd as King Maxen began to explain the genetic experiments performed on Elena and her sisters, and later performed on the boys collected by the Matrian screening process. He didn’t touch on that for very long—Thomas had said this was, statistically, the least believable part of the situation—before he began discussing the Matrian bombing of the city, the slaughter at Ashabee manor, and the horrific death camps.

“I myself saw,” his voice told the crowd, “Matrian wardens open fire on a room full of innocent women and children. I was there.” I felt a spike of fury at the sadness he affected, remembering the day he was referring to—how he had hidden like a shameless coward. I tried to set it aside.

The crowd’s faces were too far away for me to make out their expressions, but all were locked on the screen, on King Maxen. A few were standing up, their shock propelling them into motion. It was a good sign. I imagined the crowds of Patrians gathered to watch the streaming in every other stadium right at this moment, having the same reaction.