Tobias
I enter the control room at quarter to three, with enough time to start my shift unhurriedly. I'm working with Sam today, who's not around yet. He's older than me, already in his late forties, and easy to work with. It's good that some years separate us because it means he's not so much into the latest technical inventions, and that way, Eric will ask me to help him with his computer, not him.
I take a water bottle from the fridge and am delighted to see there's some cake left. I shove a piece onto a small plate and set it aside for later.
During the next two hours, nothing extraordinary happens. I see Tris walk down to the training rooms in loose sweatpants and a tight tank top. Obviously she has found a way to spend her afternoon.
Sam has learned over time that I'm not the conversation type, so we both sit in front of our monitors, each with a piece of cake in front of him. It tastes delicious. The chocolate cream melts away on my tongue as I eat it in small portions. Most people devour their cake as if there was no tomorrow, unlike me. I enjoy every small bite of it and don't want to spoil me the opportunity to prolong the pleasure of its taste.
I get nervous when I spot Eric strolling through the pit, his computer in his hands. Good, that means our program has worked fine so far. On the outside, I stay calm and try to keep my view focused on the screens until I hear Eric come in. He never bothers to knock or begin his conversations with a greeting. As usual, he gets straight to the point.
"Four, I need you to look at my computer. I was working on it when the screen suddenly blinked a few times and then turned black. Also, the casing became very hot. Now it has cooled down, but I can't turn it on again."
I set my plate aside on the floor, hardly any cake left on it, and get up to stand beside Eric and his computer, which he has placed on the wooden table next to the fridge. It's the only table there is. The lighting in here is dim, so we can't see much.
"I'll have a look at it, but I need better light first," I say, looking Eric into the eye as I walk past him to the small workspace to fetch the desk lamp from there. Once I've switched it on, I take Eric's computer in my hands to examine it. I check the connection ports and the casing for damage that I know isn't there.
"From the outside it looks normal. I'll have to open it to see what's wrong. If it was hot after it shut down, there could have been a short circuit."
"Come on, Four, is there no other way to find out? You really want me to agree to you dismantling my computer?" Eric snorts.
"I'm sorry, but there's no other way. I could go to the tech depot to look for a new one, if you'd like. It would be quicker, but your data would be lost," I say, about sure what his answer is going to be.
"Fuck, Four, then do it, for heaven's sake. Repair the damn machine." His voice changes from angry to threatening, "But I warn you: I'm going to watch you, closely. No tricks."
"I have enough to do with the initiates, believe me, I don't have time for tricks," I reply coldly.
Then I take out some tools and unfix the screws holding the casing together. I know exactly where our program caused the cabling to overheat. Nonetheless, I take my time inspecting all parts of the device under Eric's skeptical gaze. When I find I have done this long enough, I exclaim, "Got it!" and motion Eric to come closer to take a look. I show him the wire that's burnt out fuse.
"You see that? And the part of the drive that's slightly melted on the side? That's why you can't switch on your computer anymore."
"Can you fix it?"
I nod. "Yes, but I need a spare part to repair the drive to make sure your data won't get lost the next time you turn it on. If you can take my place here for a while, I'll go to the storeroom to find the necessary parts and tools."
Thank god I've had lots of time to learn not to flinch under Eric's scrutinizing stare.
"I need the computer to work again in two hours. So hurry up! And better don't screw it!"
I take the precious drive in my hands as Eric settles down in a free chair and looks over the images flooding the screens.
"I forgot what an interesting place to work the control room can be," he says to no one in particular, and I guess he's seen something that caught his attention in the feed.
I leave and take the shortest way to the storeroom. Surely Eric is following my every step. I'm still surprised everything went so smoothly. It was the crucial part of the task: That Eric would let me leave with his data.
On my way, I soon pass Zeke and Shauna's apartment. That's where Zeke is hiding with some gadgets, prepared to read out Eric's files. He's much more skilled than I am regarding IT. I knock and hand him the drive, and he gives me a similar looking one in exchange, so Eric won't see me wandering around the compound with empty hands. I continue walking and reach the storeroom after several more minutes. Inside, there are no cameras, and I exhale deeply as part of the tension leaves my body.
Okay, I tell myself, go looking for the stuff you need.
I gather the necessary tools and parts on an empty shelf near the door. It doesn't take me long, since Zeke has come here earlier to compile a box with all the possibly necessary items in different sizes to repair the damage, and then he took it with him to his apartment. He has everything he might need in stock there, to double-check it fits the drive, so if I've picked anything wrong, Zeke can correct my mistake. Our plan would be completely blown if I returned to Eric with the wrong stuff, and he became suspicious.
I wait a bit before I start to walk back anyway, to give Zeke as much time as possible. On my way, I meet Shauna, as we have intended, and we chat a bit in front of a camera, providing me with an alibi for needing another five minutes to get back to the control room.
Then I exchange the fake drive with Zeke, and he grins at me with his thumb up after looking over the tools I brought with me from the tech store room.
"That will do. And it worked. Here, I've already repaired most damage. You just have to fix this connection here on the side and then put all the pieces back together," he whispers before he disappears behind the door again.
A good half an hour later I give a repaired computer back to Eric. He observes it from all sides before he sets it down again and turns it on. His home screen is up in no time, and he clicks some random folders and files to check if everything's still there.
"Seems to work, Four. Computers have always been one of the few things you can handle better than I."
Even if he makes a compliment, he still does it in a way that shows off his superiority. I swallow the harsh remark I'd like to make, thinking that I indeed proved that I am smarter than him today — with Zeke's help, of course.
The rest of my shift drags on too slowly. I'm impatiently waiting for it to be over, so I can join the meeting at Zeke's. I wonder if he has already found something interesting. Eric, although sometimes blinded by his huge ego, isn't stupid. He won't leave any secret files where anyone could quickly find them. If he trusted me with his drive, he has them either encrypted or hidden well or saved them to another device, or they just don't exist.
I'm relieved when our change of shift comes, and Sam and I are free to go. I hurry to the cafeteria to grab some food and, when neither Tris and Christina nor Zeke, Shauna or Uriah are around, quickly leave again to find them.
***
When I arrive at Zeke's, they're all there, sitting around in the living room. From the chatter about food and activities planned for tomorrow I can tell they haven't really started the meeting yet. I sit down on a chair opposite Tris, frustrated that I can't kiss her or take her in my arms to greet her. Instead, we lock eyes for a moment too long, drawing Uriah's attention. I notice him eyeing us curiously, but he doesn't say anything.
The next moment Zeke shouts over to us from the kitchen table where he's sitting in front of a computer, digging through Eric's files, "Got something!"
We all get up and rush over to him to look over his shoulders while he zooms into a document that lists several types of weapons in a chart.
"What is it?" I ask, wondering why Zeke finds this suspicious.
I get it when he zooms back out again, and the head of the letter comes into view.
"See?" Zeke's voice sounds strangely strangled.
"A weapon order? Why?" Uriah is the first to find his voice.
"It is dated back to eight weeks ago and the delivery is due next Friday," Tris summarizes, her face close to the monitor.
My whole body tenses. "That's the day before initiation."
"It lists far more weapons than initiates. Why would Dauntless need so many of them?"
I turn to look at Uriah as if that might help me find an answer to his question. And somehow, it does.
"An attack," I say, my voice low and objective.
Everyone's eyes are on me instantly, staring. I see shock, disbelief and fear reflected in them, and it only confirms my conclusion. If it seemed totally absurd to them, they wouldn't look at me like that.
Silence fills the room as we all try to think it through.
It's Uriah who starts speaking first again. He doesn't say much, but his small two-word-question ties the knot that has begun to form in my stomach tighter.
"Against whom?"
"Zeke, is there anything on that?" I ask, although I'm not sure I want to find out.
"Not yet."
Zeke takes a deep breath and steadies himself as he minimizes the document and continues clicking his way through the sea of files abducted from Eric's computer.
Time stretches as we stand behind him, our eyes following his work on the monitor, waiting anxiously for whatever it is that we're looking for to prove our theory. We're all pretty close to each other in order to be able to read the files, and Tris' body against my side keeps me from going crazy with tension.
Zeke whistles when a map opens up in front of us, showing an area of small rectangular buildings. The streets surrounding them are marked with arrows in different colors, all pointing from the sides to the center of the map.
As if they were all pointing to the same place.
As if they were closing in on something.
As if they were invading the scene.
Invading.
An invasion.
Those are plans for an invasion.
An invasion or an attack.
Probably an attack, regarding the ordered weapons.
Against whom?
Those streets.
The shape of the houses.
The uniformity of them.
The pattern of those streets...
Familiar.
It's familiar to me.
Why is it familiar?
It looks like —
No!
That can't be true!
"Abnegation," I murmur, my voice loud in the silence, although it's only a whisper.
"What did you say?" Tris' voice is urgent as she grabs my arm.
I think she already heard what I said. I take a deep breath and straighten up, taking a look at the pale faces of my friends.
"The attack will be on Abnegation."
Tris gasps and grabs my hand, and I don't mind that she does. I understand why she does it. She needs me, just like I need her.
"Are you sure, man?" Zeke asks, doubt in his voice. Or disbelief. I can't really tell the difference right now.
I nod, unable to actually say anything.
Tris extends her free hand and points to one of the black rectangles. "That's where I used to live."
I swallow, thinking of how her parents still live there. She pulls her hand back from the pixels on the monitor, an image made up by program code of ones and zeros, threatening disaster.
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DISCLAIMER: I own neither the Divergent world nor the characters, they belong to Veronica Roth.