Brighter Than the Stars

Nicole - Saving the World

It only took me about a day or two to figure out the lab's schedule. I wasn't sure how much control my father had over it, but it was impressively done–everything happened exactly on schedule. Of course, that made it easier to steal from...but it was impressive nonetheless.

The problems (because there were always problems) started when I was faced with the side of the building. Slick and white, it had been built to look more modern. Separated from any other building, it stood out like a sore thumb on top of the hill–but he hadn't had it built to fade into the background. It was supposed to draw attention. This, too, was a problem; it would make me stand out on it, for one, like a giant bug. The fact that there was no grip wouldn't help, either. The dark, of course, would supposedly provide some sort of cover–except for the fact that most of the building was covered in lights. There were only a few small spaces I could climb, and I wasn't sure how much leeway I had.

I trekked across the empty field that led to the building late at night, far off the laturned path. I'd tried to time it so that I avoided the guard's patrols, but I kept one hand on one of my knives, just in case. The night was filled with the sounds of all sorts of things running about, but my breathing still sounded loud and unnatural in the heavy air.

I reached the wall and began to climb. It was just as tricky as I'd imagined–I was just grateful there'd been no rain very recently. There weren't very many holds (as I'd suspected), but I made do. Years of practice meant the dark wasn't a challenge–but even years of practice didn't help the problem of there being nothing to actually hold on to while I climbed. This had been what frustrated James about climbing–a lot of times, there wasn't a way to truly plan out a route, not the way we worked. Ideally, there would have been, but I was on a time-crunch, usually. James was all about the spontaneous–until something nearly made him slip on a climb. Which was fair.

I pulled myself up onto the windowsill and crouched there. I barely fit on–they really couldn't be called windowsills at all–but it was a tiny ledge, and that was enough. I set to work on the lock, which was fancier than anything I usually worked with, but I could thank years of practice again and James. Which, I realized, was kind of a horrible thing to think–who had years of practice picking locks? Somehow, I didn't think it was a skill that many others would be very happy with.

I slid the window open and slipped inside. Leo had managed to get the plans for the middle (a rough estimate; my father was at least smart enough to bury the real plans so deep in the void they were probably impossible to find), but most of it had looked like nonsense to me. A lot of labs, a lot of scientific places. Leo had sketched out roughly to me where I was supposed to go, and that was enough for me.

The room I was in was definitely science-y. Everything was in perfect order, perfectly packed up before whoever worked here left for the day. I wondered if they were just going along with it, if the pay was good enough to counteract being responsible for millions of deaths. Or maybe they truly believed it was the right thing, that they were helping.

I moved over to the tables. If I'd done this right, I should be in the room where the virus was loaded into syringes for testing (which made me shudder), and all I had to do was take a few, pack them up, and get out. As long as I didn't leave any fingerprints or other evidence, the syringes would have simply disappeared. He'd be furious, of course, and he'd suspect and blame me, but he couldn't really prove anything. If I didn't mess this up.

Which had been Leo's least favourite part of the plan; he would blame me, regardless. This time, though, I deserved it without a doubt. Even so, that part scared me more than the actual breaking in. I'd faced his wrath a million times as a child, but it never got better. And I hated the way he still had that power over me, something I couldn't seem to break. It didn't matter what Leo said–he couldn't protect me, and, worse, I couldn't protect myself. I was still that little girl; the one too scared to defend herself, the one who couldn't defend herself, and despite everything I'd done since then to give myself the illusion of safety, I knew it was really nothing more than that: an illusion.

I slid two of the syringes into the case I carried, careful to keep my fingers away from the needle, and my hands away from anything but them. Fingerprints meant evidence, and evidence meant a valid reason to hang me. I slipped my bag over the shoulder and headed back to the window. In and out. I was almost out–now was not the time to panic.

I slid the window shut behind me and locked it, making my decent back down as quietly as I'd come up. Still, I didn't start breathing again until I was back on the ground and the building was no longer in sight.

...

The docks were dark when my ship landed. I stepped off them into the busy night–Itari never slept–my eyes immediately roaming over all the people. Partly, because I half-expected my father to be there, just waiting to announce "got you!" or worse. It was irrational, I knew, but I looked for him everywhere. He wasn't there (no surprise), but Leo was–because he always was. He broke out into his stupid dimpled grin when he saw me and met me halfway, lifting me so easily I felt weightless.

"Put me down, moron," I said, but I was laughing. He kissed me, and I gave him a lopsided grin. "I think somebody owes James fifty julits."

He laughed. "Unfortunately, he has no proof. Which means no money for him. But you're okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I told you it'd be fine."

"Nicole..."

"Stop saying my name like that. Yes, I'm fine. He probably knows by now, but I don't know if he knows it's me–I don't know if he'll let it out, either. I mean, someone stole from him. But I'm not dead." He entwined our fingers together as we walked back toward the horse he'd brought (one whose mane Annabelle kept braiding and adding ribbons, at which James got mad and called it a 'respectable horse meant for war, not ribbons' or whatever he was talking about). "I am really hungry, though."

"That I can fix. I made that pasta you like–I figured you'd be back tonight. Or I hoped. Surprisingly enough, I managed to stop the others from eating the entire thing."

"Good. Now, you're not allowed to talk to me about potential genocides for at least another day."

"Got it." He pulled me up behind him. "Just so long as you try and refrain from getting involved in them. I love selfless Nicole, but I'm very selfish–and I want her to myself. You seem bent on self-destruction."

"I'm incredibly selfish. Even about my self-destruction." I wrapped my arms around him, resting my head against the back of his shoulder. "But I'm done with saving the world for the next day, at least."

"I'll hold you to that."

Word Count: 1,287

Favourite character(s) in this mess? 

I feel like I'm not legally allowed to say anything lol. But I have my favourite bits of everything, I think. They all have their moments. 

So I have favourite things, and characters I relate to more (me over here making self-inserts :D kidding). If that makes sense