Partials

Kira paused in surprise, not knowing what to think. Was he just curious? Did he really care? The question seemed loaded with extra meanings, little hints and messages and signs she couldn’t hope to interpret because she didn’t know anything about the man giving them. Was he on her side? Did he support the Senate? She looked past him to the front lobby of the hospital, open and ready; all her friends had to do was get inside, turn right, and follow the hall. They could save Arwen. They could do it.

But the people have the real power, she thought, remembering her conversation with Torvar. These are the people we’re trying to reach, the people who will follow us or stay with the Senate. How many of them are like Jayden, like Farad, wanting to rebel and just needing that final push?

Can I give them that push?

She turned back to the soldier and looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, I do,” she said. “I have a cure for RM. But the Senate would rather kill me than let you have it.”

“Give it to me,” the soldier whispered, leaning in close. “I can use it—I can’t save you, but I can use the cure and save the children.”

Was he telling the truth? Was he bluffing? Was he trying to trick her? She couldn’t give it to him without blowing Marcus’s cover, and the entire group’s, but what if she could—what then? Who in the crowd would attack her, and who would leap to her defense? Who would believe her, and would they believe her enough to let her into the maternity wing? It wasn’t enough for the soldier to promise to help—she had to see it, right here, or she couldn’t take the risk.

She whispered back, searching his eyes for some hint of understanding. “You can’t be half a hero.”

“ID challenge,” said another soldier to the side. He took a step closer, and Kira’s heart sank. “We’re supposed to ask everybody, even soldiers, and you’re not getting into this hospital unless I know exactly who you are.”

The crowd of soldiers stood breathless, watching the exchange, straining to hear. In the background Kira could see soldiers gripping their weapons, shifting their weight, getting ready for a firefight. I don’t know who to trust, she thought wildly. If people start shooting, I don’t know who to hide from, who to attack, I don’t know anything. I don’t even know what this soldier wants. Jayden reached down with his free hand and undid the snap on his holster, freeing the pistol for an easy draw. The soldier in front of her did the same—

—and turned to the side, putting the ready pistol just inches from Kira’s fingers.

“Hey, Woolf,” he called, addressing the soldier who’d challenged them. “Do you have a pair of handcuffs? There are a lot of sympathizers in this crowd, and I want to make sure she’s bound before we take her upstairs.”

A lot of sympathizers, thought Kira, staring at the gun in front of her. That might be a message for me—he’s ignoring the ID challenge and offering me a gun. He has to be on our side. But what is he doing? If he’s going to fight for us, why not just fight? What does he expect me to do? The crowd of soldiers watched carefully, poised on the brink of whatever her decision would be. Who’s with us? What am I supposed to do? She looked at the soldier in front of her, quickly running out of a good reason to be standing sideways. He’s giving me the choice, she realized. He’s not fighting yet because he wants to know if I’m serious or not—if I’m really ready to die for this, or just full of hot air. Anything we start here is going to be bloody. A lot of us are going to die.

He’s waiting for me to make the first move.