Every Missing Piece

Chapter Eleven

By the next morning, all traces of the search for the Barrons had been carefully hidden away. There was no edict to stay safely inside our units, no patrols of guards scouring the streets. For all purposes, the Barrons might as well have never existed.

That's the strange part: the Assembly let us forget. The moment they found the Barrons, they should have punished them for whatever crimes they'd committed and let the entire city know about it, yet another display of the Assembly's might. Even when we—well, some of us—took the pill last night, the first thing we should have remembered this morning was the story of how the Barrons begged for mercy.

But they're gone, and the Assembly isn't breathing a word. The day continues like yesterday's hysteria never happened, and I alone am wondering why I'm left with no explanation. Maybe they escaped.

Somehow, I doubt it.

All I have to distract myself with is today's assignment, and it is mind-numbing work. I kneel on the floor of a cubicle, paperwork spread all around me, trying to erase signs of an internal embezzlement scheme, because the services of the blocker's department can always be bought if you pay enough. Around me, the carrying whispers of office gossip travel over the cubicle walls.

"...left her all alone with four kids to look after..."

"...will do anything for that promotion..."

"...found the two of them with their throats slit in some alley..."

My head snaps up and I nearly drop all of the papers I had been so carefully organizing on the ground. I strain to hear more of the conversation, but the speaker has kept walking, and the rest of the conversation fades away.

It's just silly nonsense, I'm sure of it, and I have to prune back my gruesome thoughts like they're weeds, but...

But I don't believe in coincidences anymore.

"Excuse me? Miss Farmorre?"

When I turn around, I see a well-starched man, spindly thin and with thinning, sandy hair. He clutches a briefcase in one hand, and with the other, he offers me a letter with an official red seal.

"I've been sent by the Assembly," he says. "There's been a slight change of plans."

As soon as he mentions the Assembly, my stomach plummets to my feet and I try not to sweat as I accept the letter. "What...what kind of change in plans?"

"Oh, nothing to be concerned about," the man says, waving away my question like you would swat a fly. "It's all described in the letter, but essentially, in light of recent events, the Assembly's decided to switch your assignment today to one rather more urgent."

I stare at him, turning the letter over and over in my hands yet still lacking the courage to open it. I don't have a single guess what Josef and the rest of the Assembly might be scheming about this time, and a sense of dread washes over me. "Did they say what kind of urgent assignment it was?"

I only knew that if they had hand-picked me for it, this new assignment would be no picnic.

"Well, it is all in the letter," the man says before trailing off. I follow his nervous gaze to the workers milling about around us. No one seemed to be paying us any attention, but really, it would be impossible to prove that that was actually the case.

"Perhaps it might be best if you followed me," he continues. "This is, after all, a sensitive situation."

With a final glance to the others, he leaves the office with long, urgent strides. I hurry to gather my blocker materials before following with my head down, as if someone might punish me for leaving the job unfinished.