"No, Joan," Harriet says flatly. "I thought you moved passed these suicidal heroics."
I can't be mad at Harriet's reaction, given my history. I've cornered her in the basement room that Hautey converted into a laundry room, knowing that she'd be alone. If I can get Harriet to agree to my plan, the rest of the team will come around. But I forgot how stubborn she can be.
"This time is different. I'm not racing into danger with a death wish. You can get me in and out, and we'll have the information we need to make change happen now. We can't afford to wait for Marie to hack her way deeper into Strand's network, or Addie to get us access to the inner lab."
"There are too many variables. IF you find the information we need. IF you can even get out."
"Hear me out," I insist. "The attack at the Showbox is the beginning of a much larger campaign. Strand is going to keep framing extremists for activating the virus in Throwbacks all over the country. Especially people that don't contribute much in the way of a salary to Strand's coffers. I'm talking about the poor, elderly, disabled...and kids, Harriet. Because they know parents will pay anything to save their babies."
Harriet swallows, her expression bleak. "They'd go after children?"
"You know exactly what they're capable of."
"Then I'll offer myself up for experimentation in Strand's lab," she says. "With the maps I've built of Strand's campus, I have the best chance of getting out once I get my hands on proof."
"You know that that won't work," I say, my voice gentle. "She wants me because of my new ability. And she'll be suspicious if you offer yourself up about of the blue."
Harriet's face seizes of pain, her hands clenched in her lap.
I place my hands on top of hers. "You know this is our best shot."
"This is asking too much of all of us."
I rest my forehead on her shoulder. "I'm going to do everything in my power to come back. Only a few weeks ago, I felt like I was aimless, slowly dying inside, but I've come back to life. I want to spend hours with you planning for Seattle's future. I want to play soccer with Mav. I want to make out with Justus."
Harriet huffs a laugh.
"I can't swear I'll make it back, but I'm going to try like hell. But if I don't, you'll be here to keep this rebellion alive. You've always been the heart of the operation. At my best, I've only been the fist. You can live without your fist. But not your heart."
"Good speech," she says, echoing my words from only a few weeks ago.
"I know."
Harriet agrees to talk to Marie, Sun and Kat about the logistics getting me in and out of Strand, while I find the person who is going to hate this plan the most.
~ ~ ~
Justus is working on the sixth floor, ripping out old cubicles to make room for a gym where we can practice self-defense. His face lights up when he sees me. He jogs to my side, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat.
"We need to talk," I tell him, tugging him into an old conference room.
"Is this about Jo?" he asks. "Leo said that we can pick her up today. I'll go with you."
I sick feeling settles in my stomach as I sink into a chair. "This isn't about Jo. It's about Strand. I'm turning myself in so I can get the evidence we need to take them down."
"No, you're not."
"I'll be smart. I'll have the mind manipulator, a wifi connection to the Chrysalis, and Marie's customized contacts so I can record every single interaction. The police can demand my release if things get really bad. I'll be okay."
Justus's face is pale and set. Only the trembling of his fingers gives away how upset he is. "You can't put us all through this again. Why are you so quick to throw your life away?"
For the first time, I understand why Nic chose to leave all his hard explanations behind in a vid, rather than tell me to my face. It's so much easier than facing the fallout of a decision that you know someone you love will never approve of.
But I would give anything to have had the chance to talk Nic out of his choice, to have found a better solution than the one that ended his life. I won't do the same thing to Justus.
Instead, I take a deep breath, knowing that I can't put off telling him about my fate any longer. "I had a vision awhile back. I'm going to be found guilty of treason. And put to death. I saw my memorial, Justus."
"Those visions of yours aren't set in stone," Justus says, his voice rising. "Remember how you changed what happened to my dad?"
"Every time I see a vision I can change, there's this...voice...that tells me how. But with the ones about what happens to me, it tells me to accept what's coming. I have to make the most out of the time I have left."
"I won't accept this."
"Well, I won't hide away in the Chrysalis, trying to escape a fate that I know is inevitable! If I'm going to die, I want to take Strand down with me. It's going to be my legacy."
"I don't give a fuck about your legacy. You are what matters, Joan. There are a million small ways that you can make a difference over your lifetime. But only if you're alive to do it."
"You're not listening to me."
"I'm listening. But I don't like what I hear. Your pride has always taken you down the wrong path, and this is no different. If you live, you have to face all your grief and guilt. You'd rather be a dead and a hero than alive and just like the rest of us."
His words sting, though I don't know if it's because they're the truth, or because now I know what he thinks of me.
Justus takes a slow breath, and when his eyes meet mine there is a deadness in them that I've never seen before. "If you do this, we're done. I won't be a part of sending you to your potential death. And if you survive, I won't put myself through the pain of watching you try to martyr yourself over and over again."
I try to grab his hand, but Justus pulls away from me and leaves. I don't follow him.
~ ~ ~
In spite of taking the antidote, by the time the day is coming to an end I feel like death. At my weekly dinner with my parents and Addie, I told them what I was planning. The only thing that kept Mom and Dad from completely freaking out was Addie's promise that she'd do whatever she had to do to keep me safe while I'm on Strand's campus. Her words comforted my parents, but they terrify me.
I manage to escape when I'm contacted by the hospital and told that Jo will be released within the hour. I go to pick her up on my own, needing some time away from everyone's panic over my decision.
Jo's waiting outside when I pull up in the van. She's leaning against the building, clearly preferring to stand rather than use the wheelchair parked next to her.
"I got here as fast as I could," I say when she gets in the passenger seat. "How are you doing? The real answer, please, not the one that you'll be telling everyone else."
Jo grins. "No permanent harm, and I know I did some damage of my own. I think I even broke an arm or two. It was a good, clean fight."
Only Jo would call being beaten by a team of highly trained bodyguards a clean fight. But compared to her years of torture and abuse at Strand, maybe it does seem that way to her.
"I'm glad you're back. There's a lot going on at the Chrysalis, and I could use someone who has my back."
"Leo told me about your latest plan, and he says that every available resource at the Chrysalis is going into making your mission a success."
"Leo knows?"
"Everyone knows. Harriet, Justus and your parents have all sent me text messages asking me to convince you not to do this."
I groan. "Should I prepare for a speech, in that case?"
"You forget, I know exactly how stubborn we both can be. There's no point trying to change your mind when you're doing what you believe to be right."
"You're the only person who knows exactly what I'm walking into, Jo. Any words of advice?"
Jo is quite for a long time before she answers. "They're going to hurt you, Joan. They will push your body and mind past its limits, until you start to forget who you are. You might say things you regret, or offer up pieces of yourself you never dreamed of sharing. There comes a point when you will do anything to make the pain stop."
I park the van on the street near the Chrysalis and turn to face Jo. She stares out the window, refusing to meet my gaze.
"Is that why you still carry around so much guilt? Because of what you said under torture?" I ask her, my tone as gentle as I can make it.
"I told them almost everything," she admits, her voice cracking. "My deepest fears, worst moments, locations of safe houses that I used when I worked with Crew. Names of people who helped us—got us supplies and weapons. To this day I don't know what Strand did with that information."
Jo's words make me want to vomit. Will I betray my friends if the torture gets bad enough? Will Strand be satisfied with learning about my visions of the future, or will they want me to give them information so they can destroy our rebellion for good?
Jo finally faces me, and all traces of vulnerability are erased from her expression. "But they didn't get everything, Joan. I kept some pieces for myself. They never learned that I had a biological child of my own who died before she had a chance to live. I never revealed the locations of my loved ones, or how we influenced which batch of clones were created to someday continue the fight against Evolved rule."
"How?"
"I locked a part of my mind away, behind a door that even I couldn't open. You need to bury all the warmest, best parts of yourself so deep that you can't find them, even in your darkest moments."
"And if—when—I come back, will those parts of me come back again?"
"I'm still figuring that out."