A Different Divergent Tale (Eric and Tris)

Chapter 64 (Eric's POV)

Amar and I exit the long hallway in the Bureau. In front of us is a series of consoles reminiscent of our surveillance room—but these are spread out with a viewing room.  The wall is covered in several large screens that have footage from all over the city.  There are few from Erudite, though.  Unlike Dauntless's control room, the monitors don't change every minute.  It looks like stadium style seats are set out and many people are watching the city monitors for entertainment. 
Amar sits at an empty console and shows me how it works.  He also explains the inter-workings of the system—how I blocked Erudite's access and whatnot.  The top line of code that I'm never supposed to touch is their access. 
"Like Natalie said, never touch it... or there may be some memory serum released if you try," he tells me chuckling. 
I don't laugh, though.  I don't find that funny.  I mention how Erudite is barely represented on the screens.  He elaborates on how the Bureau's access has been blocked. 
"Jeanine?" I question. 
"No, Norton started it.  She's blocked some but he had done the vast majority of them," he explains. 
"How'd he avoid the memory serum?" I question. 
"He figured out a way that I'm not allowed to say," he admits. 
"I'm thinking gas masks," I mumble. 
"I didn't even need to tell you, Nose," he teases.  "How'd you figure that out?"
"I'm assuming it's not corrosive like death serum so a gas mask should work fine for that purpose," I divulge shrugging. That's probably why Jeanine has death serum set up to disburse in the event of a break in—gas masks would be mostly ineffective.
He nods.  He takes me through the security area and explains quite a bit about what they do here, how they handle everything. It's similar to our system but they have much more advanced technology.
Matthew joins us and offers to take me to his lab and show me around the rest of the facility.  I accept the offer since I think we're about finished here with security.  Amar tells me he'll take my bag I left in his truck to the hotel I'll be staying at. I thank him for that. He offered to let me stay with him but that's not my style to impose on someone.
Matthew and I walk through an area that reminds me of our Pit, but it's exceedingly bright and well-ventilated, not dark and dank.  There are skylights letting the sunlight in.  We move on further to a wing where people are conducting various studies—some on computers, some in traditional labs with beakers, test tubes, and chemicals.  This feels like the Erudite section while back there in security was Dauntless.  I ask Matthew about it and his response surprises me. 
"We don't have that kind separation out here like you do within the city.  There are no factions or boarders between people groups," he explains. 
I find that concept difficult to comprehend since it's what I've always known. 
We tour the genetics study facility a bit more before he takes me to his office. I walk in with him and take a seat beside him next to his computer. He offers me an apple from a bowl on his desk. I accept since I haven't eaten since brunch.
"We're having dinner with Amar and George tonight. I figured this should tide you over until then," Matthew grins and selects a red one while I take a green.
I bite into it and it's good—different from the apples in the city. It's exceptionally crisp, tart, and fresh.
Matthew turns on his computer and brings up the program with Tris's test results first. I see lots of red and yellow on the graph—reminding me of Amity... but also ketchup and mustard like Christina mentioned in the game we played. I guess I do have color association but it's always been ingrained in me. I notice his navy jumpsuit underneath his lab coat and decide to ask him what the difference is between his and the green ones I've seen here. I assumed it was a faction designation but he said before that's not how their society is set up.
"What's the significance between the navy and light green jumpsuits?" I ask him.
He stops studying the screen of Tris's results and surrenders his attention to me.
"Well..." he starts as if he's searching for a way to explain it to me. "The navy is what I wear because I'm a geneticist. I'm a doctor here in research. I studied at a university. Someone like Nita—the woman who injected you and Tris earlier—doesn't have my kind of education. She's from a city very much like yours but different in a way. Her city ended in destruction—someone set off a bomb and decimated the majority of their population. Anyway, she's studying but her intellectual capabilities are sadly not as high as she would hope."
I nod. "So, she's trying to be Erudite but she lacks the capacity."
"Kind of. In this society, she's somewhat limited with options," he says. He elaborates more on their kind of separation—pure and damaged. I see it as two factions rather than five but he doesn't view it that way. He explains that the pure have all of their traits intact with no genetic manipulation. He explains that whether they use all of their abilities is entirely up to each person. The damaged are lacking in one or more traits and have difficulty comprehending a full spectrum of knowledge and behavioral patterns for them to successfully live in society. "Many damaged with severe behavioral problems live on the outskirts of our society—more locally in a place called the Fringe. They fight over food and at times, for no reason at all. Murder is common there and they generally have a short life expectancy due to malnutrition, starvation, and dangerous living conditions—be it exposure to the elements, sickness, poor housing, or hazardous individuals in their midst," he explains.
"Yet, you have many people here wearing green jumpsuits," I point out.
"There's a mass variety of ranges among the damaged. I personally don't think their genetics hinder their abilities. I think their effort and dedication does while others here such as David, believe their genetics limit them," he elaborates.
I nod. It sounds like their people don't agree on every aspect but he seems decent. It also appears like they're able to voice their thoughts aloud without worrying about any repercussions from their opinions.
We focus back on Tris's results and he explains that her test is a first—unheard of. "She'd be considered 100% pure. She is a second generation, though, which makes sense," he tells me.
That's right. Natalie is from outside—a pure. I'm assuming that's what he means by that.
We switch over to my results and I honestly don't see any difference in the readings. The red and yellow are in different locations but it appears about the same. Matthew does a computerized projection of my rating. It's listed as 99.9%.
"What does that mean?" I ask him.
He glances at the score, then at me and laughs lightly. "You're pure—or at least close enough," he tells me.
"So... I'm Divergent?" I ask for clarification. Natalie said so before but I still find that hard to believe.
He nods. "So much so that we're going to need to start testing your population soon," Matthew laughs happily.
"Now, don't get ahead of yourself, Matthew," a man at a corner desk I hadn't noticed before says. "We'd have to meet with the board... but send me those results, would you?"
"Yes, of course. I'm forwarding them to David as well," he replies.
He finishes in the office and he continues the tour. We stop at a hydroponic garden with tropical flowers and plants. I've never seen anything like this except in books—well, besides the few at the stores and Tris's apartment... and some at the greenhouses now that I recall. It makes me think about who's caring for her plants, though. I shake that thought out and focus on what's in front of me. I'm fascinated by the intricacy, the variety in hues, and the unusual aspects of what I'm seeing. The vines are incredible, climbing over everything.
We move onto the genealogy room and Matthew helps me find my family tree. I've always known my maternal grandmother was from Amity and now I'm aware my paternal grandparents were Dauntless but I'm surprised to see some Abnegation and Candor in there. It's kind of a shock—more so than the others.
"It makes sense, you know," Matthew comments.
"What's that?" I question.
"How well rounded you are. It's obvious your family is from all over your city," he explains.
I nod even though that never occurred to me before. Matthew walks me to my hotel and we obtain the key.
Next, he takes me to the hospital to check on Tris. I've been looking forward to this. Everything else here is just secondary. We cross through a long hallway. Her room is at the end of the hall. I knock with no answer.
"She's probably sleeping," Matthew says opening the door. I step in and walk over to her side.  She's wearing white and sleeping in a hospital bed.  She has an IV attached but that's all. I already see significant changes. "Our medication works alongside what she's already been taking. She should have similar reactions but more growth and frequency of side effects."
"Such as?" I question concerned.
"The sleeping. She'll probably sleep for a week, rarely waking. When she does, have her eat," he informs me.
I nod and sit beside her. I take her hand in mine and notice something I wasn't expecting. I push my palm up against hers, then spread out her fingers to line up with mine. Her hand is bigger, fingers longer already.
"Am I imagining things?" I question.
"She has already grown some," Matthew nods. "It's working. She may change a lot in the next day."
I study her, caress her cheek. She looks so different already—like the difference between a year's identification picture in school. Matthew says he'll give us some time alone and come back for me in an hour to take me to dinner.
I sit and watch her. I would've thought all I've learned today would've shaken me to my core but I'm more concerned about Tris. She's changing so much. It's unbelievable. I sit with her.  I hold her, kiss her temple and cheek.  I talk to her a bit even though she's unconscious. 
Eventually, a nurse comes in and checks her vitals.  She doesn't say much.  Then, someone in a green jumpsuit brings in her dinner.  The tray is massive, covered in as much food as I would eat in a meal.  It looks like they gave her some sort of seafood pasta with a cream sauce, some steamed vegetables, a salad, a roll, two drinks—milk and juice—and some kind of berry dessert.  It somewhat resembles a cobbler with ice cream on top.  I figure that she should probably wake up and eat.  I attempt to shake her awake.  It takes a few tries but she yawns.  Her eyes open and they land on me. 
"Rise and shine, sunshine," I tease. 
"Eric," she smiles. 
"Your dinner is here.  It doesn't look half bad for hospital food," I tell her. 
"I am hungry," she replies stretching. 
I smirk at that and move her tray closer. 
"This does look good," she agrees. 
"The hospital in the city is notorious for bad food," I tell her. 
"Oh?" she laughs lightly twirling her pasta onto her fork. 
"They generally serve frozen meals," I inform her. 
"What's wrong with them?" she asks before taking a bite. 
"Cooked meat frozen and then reheated is kind of nasty," I explain. 
"This is really good," she tells me. 
"What is it?" I question. 
"I don't know," she shrugs.  "Some sort of seafood."
She offers me a bite and it is delicious.  It's not any type of fish we have in the city—that's for sure. 
"Let me know if you swell up," David says entering her door. 
"Why is that?" I question. 
"You have an ancestor with shellfish allergies.  We don't want you to go into anaphylactic shock," he tells me. 
"Fabulous," I mumble sarcastically. "How long would that take?"
"A few minutes to a couple hours," he says coming over to Tris.  "You look good.  I already see significant changes."
She smiles in response but keeps eating.  I sit back and watch her.  She never eats that much. 
"It looks like your appetite has increased, too," David mentions.  "How do you feel?"
"Hungry, tired, and achy," she tells him. 
I rub her arm soothingly. 
"That's to be expected.  That's a good sign.  When the growth pains stop, you'll probably be done," he tells her. 
She nods in response.  She finishes her meal and goes to the restroom.  Sadly, she has to drag her IV with her.  While she's gone, David explains to me how everything went, what to expect, and how to care for her.  He says that George will give me recipes to prepare for her—foods that will give her the proper nutrients along with the macros she'll need. 
"I'm not the best cook," I mention. 
"They're simple recipes—pan seared protein, steamed vegetables, salads, eggs, oatmeal... things like that," he explains. 
I nod.  I think I can handle that. 
Tris comes back into the room and she looks exhausted.  I help her get into bed and she's out as soon as her head hits the pillow. 
"She'll probably sleep through the night," David tells me. 
I nod and kiss her forehead.  I surrender my attention to David. 
"I have a proposition for you.  Walk with me," he requests. 
"Alright," I agree and we exit her room. 
We stroll down the halls of the hospital and he explains that he'd like me to be an informant for them on Jeanine.  He'll give me a new phone with a listening device that both they and I can access.  He wants me to spy on her and find out more of what she's doing with the Divergent. 
"How would you make it so she doesn't find a bug on me, though?" I question. 
"Our technology is more advanced than anything in the city.  If she were to discover our technology, she'd think it was nothing more than a dust mote," he explains. 
"Nanotechnology?" I question. 
"Something like that," he nods.  "No metal that's traceable, though."
"Where would you put that then?" I question. 
"We'd change out your phone," he tells me.  "It would be more advanced than what you currently have but it'd appear the same.  We'd also clone your current memory onto the new."
I nod. I'd feel more comfortable with an untraceable wire. I tell him I agree to it. He offers to give the same to Tris.  I agree.  I figure that if we ever get separated in Erudite, I could find out what's going on. 
Matthew strides down the hallway and waves at us. 
"Heading out to dinner?" David asks him. 
"Yeah, Eric is joining us," Matthew nods. 
"Well, I'll see you all tomorrow," David responds.
"Bye," Matthew waves. 
We cross the shopping district, then a residential area I haven't seen before.  We exit the building and the sun's about to set.  We walk across a road and pass through a gate before we arrive at a series of what appears to be townhouses.  Matthew walks up to a middle of the area home and knocks on the door.  Amar answers.  He chuckles and hugs him. 
"Glad you could make it," he says patting Matthew on the back. 
"I always feel privileged just to get an invite.  George is the best cook," Matthew replies. 
Amar chuckles at that. Matthew steps in and Amar greets me the same. 
"I still can't believe you're here.  I can't believe you're with the little Stiff," he says grinning. 
"Not so little anymore," I mention. 
"No way," Amar says disbelievingly. 
"She's already growing from what I've seen," Matthew adds. 
"Really?  That new technique works fast," Amar comments. 
"It's not new technology," Matthew replies tiredly.  "It's new to you.  It's been tested for half a century."
I feel a bit more confident about that—like I've left my girl in good hands, even though it was her choice. 
Amar leads us inside his apartment.  There's a man standing in the kitchen with an apron on.  His skin is vastly lighter than Amar's but still tanner than mine.  He has almond shaped eyes.  He's small in stature but decently muscular for his size. 
"This is George," Amar introduces him. 
"It's nice to finally meet you, Eric," he says reaching out to shake my hand.  "I believe you know my sister.  It looks like she does good work," he says motioning to my neck tattoos. 
"Tori?" I question surprised. 
He smiles and nods. 
"Does she know where you are?" I ask curiously. 
He shakes his head. 
"She thinks he's dead," Amar replies.  "I believe she's under the impression that Jeanine is the cause of his death."
I frown at that but I'm welcomed in and we sit down to dinner at their table. They explain what happened during his initiation.  Jeanine and Egan came and observed his simulations.  Then they scheduled his termination.  Before they could get to him, Natalie got him out of the city.  They had to make it look like a suicide, though. 
That's terrible.  I don't know if I want to ask how they can fake such a thing. 
We start on the meal and it's incredible.  There's some sort if spicy bean curd dish with a red sauce, fried chicken wings with a dark sauce that reminds me of what I've had in Amity, a soup with dumplings, and lettuce wraps with ground pork.  All the dishes are served with rice and most of the dishes include a variety of vegetables.  Everything is delectable. 
"David requested that I give you a meal plan for Tris," George says. 
"He mentioned something like that," I nod. 
"I'll include portions for both of you.  Making double meals is a pain," he tells me. 
"Alright," I agree.  "What kind of meals are we talking about?  Your culinary skills far surpass mine," I tell him motioning to the table. 
He laughs lightly and thanks me.  He explains that they're simple dishes—pasta with protein and tomato sauce, plain oatmeal with maple syrup and fruit, eggs and avocado toast, salads, sandwiches... things like that. 
I nod.  "I think I can manage those."
He smiles and pats me on the back.  We talk a bit more concerning food.  He gives me advice about miscellaneous techniques in the kitchen.  I soak it all up since I've never really had anyone to teach me.  My grandma's recipes were a little hard for me as a kid but perhaps I could manage now. 
We move onto topics concerning my city—the problems within.  Amar and George give me advice and warn me of dangers associated with Jeanine, her followers in Erudite and others within my own faction who may turn on me.  I didn't even think of threats from within.  I learn all about this area and the world outside mostly from Matthew and George since apparently Amar is considered new here.  I'm shocked about so many things that I'll admit I'm overwhelmed. 
Matthew and I leave together, learning that they're roommates.  As we make the trek back, we chat a bit more about personal things. 
"I heard you attended services in Erudite last Sunday," he mentions. 
"I did," I nod. 
"What do you think?" he questions. 
"I think I'm going from now on.  Next Sunday, there's a party after the service at the Metcalf's," I tell him. 
"What kind of party?" he inquires. 
"Baptisms," I reply. 
We talk a bit more about that. I tell him we'll be participating if Tris is feeling up for it.  He invites me to church in the morning with him and I accept.  He walks me back to the hotel and gives me his apartment number and location.  I realize we had just passed by it but it's a higher floor.  He offers breakfast but promises his cooking isn't as refined as George's.  I laugh and accept telling him the same about mine. 
We part ways and I walk to my room, unlocking the door with a key.  I step in and the place is kind of a dump.  The room and bed look old and dusty.  I knock some dust off the comforter and it's not that bad—just dated.  The carpet is green, the comforter baby blue.  There's a faux cherrywood headboard with a nightstand beside it.  The wallpaper is a yellow-cream color with thin brown and blue stripes on one wall, an olive green diamond shaped pattern on the other walls.  There's a table and chair set made of the same wood as the headboard and blue cushions on the seat and back of the chair matching the bedding.  Sconces are on either side of the bed with a freestanding lamp next to one of the chairs. The blue curtains are already drawn. I do notice the slight move of them, though, from the air conditioning which is nice. I see a dresser across from the bed and there's a screen on the wall above it.  It has what looks to be an image of holographic framed art.  That panel seems to be the only thing in this room that's somewhat new.  The rest looks ancient—like two hundred years old or longer. 
I sit on the queen sized bed and it creaks from my weight.  I sigh not really wanting to be here right now of all times.  I open up my bag and get ready for bed.  It's weird not taking off my holster now.  I'm not accustomed to being without it anymore.  I'll admit I noticed throughout the whole time I've been here that it was missing.  I brush my teeth and change my clothes.  I grab my Bible and realize it's not too late in the evening. I'm wondering if Tris is actually asleep.  I throw my shirt back on and slip on my shoes deciding I'm making the trek to the hospital to see if they'll let me in. 
I step in the hospital entrance to see a posted sign that visiting hours are over... but two ladies at the check in desk wave me in. 
"If you can be quiet, we won't say anything," one smiles. 
"That, I can do," I smirk. 
They smile at me and tell me to go ahead. 
I'm grinning as I walk down the hallway to her room.  I find it and see her door is open.  A light is on in her room over her bed.  I step closer to see her sound asleep.  She has a book propped up by one arm but she's out cold.  I pick it up carefully and she doesn't wake.  I look closer to see it's a Bible.  It's not her copy, though.  I flip to the front holding the page to see it says some organization provided these for the hospital patients.  They're called the Gideons.  I flip back to the opened page and I set it on her table just as it was.  I decide to flip to that book in mine.  I scoot the chair nearby closer to her bed.  I caress her hand as I read aloud to her from the book and chapter in my own from where she was reading.  As I continue, Hebrews 10:23 stands out to me. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. I like that. I'm surprised how much inline what I read frequently coincides with things I'm experiencing. Tris says God is speaking through these words. I get it. It does feel alive. I read a bit more before I get tired. I close up my book and kiss her forehead before rising. I turn off her light and see there's a nightlight so she can see her way to the restroom. I kiss her once more before I leave. I notice a surveillance camera in the dimly lit hallway and it's clearly active with a red light flashing. It's rotating as well so it's obvious they're keeping an eye on her. I stride back to my room—the Bureau sparse of people tonight. I pass what looks to be a bar with a lively crowd, though. I see the woman who injected me earlier—Nita—seated at the bar. She's wearing a backless black dress and has a tattoo of broken glass covering her back. She's damaged. It looks like she didn't take the news too well when she left her city. I decide this kind of crowd is not for me tonight. I head back to the hotel and climb in bed. I place my Bible on the nightstand and set the alarm clock beside the bed to wake me in the morning. I notice another device that I pick up. I turn the power on and realize the screen on the wall has video news programs. It's interesting. I watch a bit and change it around discovering all sorts of new things about this world—sports, movies, and historical films. It's quite unbelievable. I eventually start to nod off so I press the power button once more, drifting off easily.