“Uh, Ma’am?”
“Please just call me Blair. Please.” She smiled.
Nate blinked.
“Blair.” He said the name like he was testing each sound of her name separately. “Ma’am, um, we have a visitor for breakfast this morning. Civilian in our midst, Ma’am. So, perhaps we should wait on discussing…I just wanted to bring it to your attention.” He nodded over to Grant and Grant bowed his head. He wanted to disappear into the wall; he felt every person stare at him and collectively hold his or her breath.
“Oh,” Blair put a hand over her heart and stared at the faces around the room, each of them looking straight back at her with blank expressions. “I’m sorry...I didn’t. I’ll just...” she stammered.
Grant stood up. “I’ll go,” he said and waved goodbye to Dylan, picking up a small breakfast bar off the table.
It was silent as he made his way to the door, and as he grabbed the knob, he heard someone clear his throat.
“Grant can stay,” Dylan announced. “Ms. Truman didn’t have a scheduled meeting with us. She can address us at a more opportune time. It’s Grant’s last day with us, Ms. Truman...he deserves a right to an uninterrupted breakfast. He’s been hanging out with us a lot since everyone left. It’s his right.”
Blair’s head spun to Dylan. She pursed her lips and tapped her fingers against the counter. “You don’t have authority to make that call. He goes. And then I’ll continue. Problem solved.”
“Maybe don’t come into the room and start spewing classified information when a civilian is present,” Nate added. “Ma’am.”
“I...just,” she cleared her throat.
Nate shot his hand up again. “Also, that plan would leave the main elevators unattended.”
Everyone was silent. Grant froze, still by the door, unable to determine if he was supposed to go or stay. Everyone’s eyes were back on Blair. He crinkled his breakfast bar wrapper, hoping it would draw some attention back to him so someone could tell him if he was supposed to leave.
“Station someone at the second elevator. There’s no need to waste a person at the one to the surface.” Blair said this with a flick of her wrist and the guards all exchanged knowing looks. Grant shifted on his feet, Dylan motioned for him to sit, and so he sat down in an empty chair. He ran his hand through his hair and slumped backward, arms crossed.
“With all due respect...your father’s plan is convoluted. No offense,” a guy named Mick said. He was chewing a large piece of bubble gum and he popped it loudly.
A few of the soldiers shook their heads and mumbled to each other, whispering to each other in low voices so Grant couldn’t hear.
“Never underestimate the resourcefulness of our Copia residents,” Blair said. Turning to sneak a look at Grant, she added, “The Copia residents must be led to their meeting and led out of their meeting with strict precision. Their plane waits, after all. Because there are so few of us, it’s important to make sure that we handle everything according to protocol.” She titled her head and uncrossed her legs. Then she slid down off the counter, scanned the room, and cleared her throat. “We follow the plan.”
“Because the plan always works,” Mick muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?” Blair spun and stared at him. She put her hands on her hips and straightened her back. Mick looked her over from top to bottom, but he didn’t reply. He blew a bubble. “My father asked me to oversee this operation –”
“That’s cute,” Nate interrupted. He bit into an apple, flecks of juice and fruit flying to the ground. He chomped with his mouth open. Stopping mid-bite, he raised his eyebrows. “I was at the meeting, too, Ma’am. You’re here for appearances. And look, I’m not complaining...you’ve got a mighty fine appearance.”
A few of the other guys chuckled and tried to contain their laughter.
Blair’s hands slipped from her hips and she stood lamely in the middle of the room. She frowned and looked to the ground, all of her bravado slipping away. She raised her head and took a step toward the door, and walked right past Grant; he looked away from her and stared at the table in front of him.
Her ankle gave out and she stumbled. Putting her hand out on Grant’s chair to steady herself, she slipped further and tumbled to her knees. The room went silent, and no one dared to breathe. Ryley cleared his throat and went to her as everyone else watched. He extended his hand and Blair looked up. Her eyes were cold like stone, but she took his hand and he helped her up to her feet.
“You should excuse Nate,” Ryley said with a nod backward. “Your father recruited him from a specialized program. He’s got no credentials. Practically a mall cop.”
“Shut up, asshole,” Nate spat with a glare.
“Mall cop,” Ryley said on his heels without taking his eyes off Blair.
Blair nodded, but remained silent. When she did speak, her voice was tiny and timid. “I’ll be back later, I suppose.” Then she turned to Ryley, “I want to be put to work. Who do I talk to about that? I want to have a part,” she said. “I’m not useless.”
“No one said you were useless, Ma’am,” Ryley declared in a loud voice, speaking over her head to the others, who were now inspecting the floor and the walls with intense focus. “We’ll make sure you have a role.”
Blair mustered a weak smile of gratitude and then continued out the door.
“Blair?” Ryley added, stopping her as she started to disappear into the hallway. “We are all very grateful for your father’s work. We would not be here if we didn’t support him.”
“Well,” Blair said, turning her head, “thank you. I’ll be sure to let him know that he picked a good team.” Then she marched back down the hallway, the echo of her shoes fading as each second passed.
None of them knew when they were supposed to leave. The guards seemed entirely nonchalant about a departure time, despite the fact that the other exits from the System were perfectly planned. After breakfast, Dylan had told Grant that he needed to get ready for the departure and he took off, which left Grant fully bereft of friends.
So, after Grant meandered around the Center for a while, he decided that the only place left to go was Cass’s hideout. He followed the path he had used many times before, often with Lucy close by; crawling under the breakaway wall, up through the secret elevator, and into the room that had been his second home. It looked the same as it always had—bright and welcoming. It was the opposite of everything down below. Maybe Claude had made it that way.
Grant plopped himself down on the beanbag and stared up into the sky. Soon he would be flying through that sky on his way to Copia. He closed his eyes and tried to picture how this afternoon would go, and what he saw was pure chaos: Blair and her dog roaming around attempting to be helpful, the guards suiting up and trying to manage getting the people cleared of the System before making the call to shut it down. When the men back on Kymberlin hit the switch to send the System into darkness, it would kill the solar panels and succumb the underground dome to a future without life. The Underground Systems’ function was brief, but masterful.
Grass and dirt blew across the glass of the skylight and he could tell by the way the long grass swayed and danced that it was windy outside.
Cass had left most of her things in this room. There was a mug with a picture of a cat on it, and a collection of books. He had first kissed Lucy in this room. Or maybe she had kissed him first. He couldn’t remember the full sequence of events, even though it hadn’t happened that long ago. He could only picture her face close to his, her breath tasting like nothing at all, and the worry that she wouldn’t love him back.
He hoped she had read his letter on her first night of Kymberlin. He hoped that it had helped her feel secure and peaceful, resting in all he felt for her. He never wanted to come across as needy, so he tried to temper his bursting heart sometimes. Maybe someday she would doubt that he cared for her fully; maybe someday she would try to dismiss them as a relationship born of proximity, but he knew better than that.