"Insurgent" by Veronica Roth, Chapters 1–9

An Amity nurse gives me a salve--developed by Erudite to speed healing—to put on my shoulder, and then escorts Peter to the hospital ward to mend his arm.

“The Amity are meeting in a half hour.” He quirks his eyebrows and adds, with a touch of melodrama, “To decide our fate.”

I am afraid that if I start to sob, I will never stop until I shrivel up like a raisin.

But mostly I miss the fears of the past few weeks, rendered small by my fears now.

“We have before us today an urgent question,” she says, "which is: How will we conduct ourselves in this time of conflict as people who pursue peace?”

“They don’t care about efficiency,” Tobias says. “They care about agreement.

“You are welcome to stay here if and only if you can abide by our rules,” she says.

Most of the leaders of this city risked their lives to protect it from Jeanine and died, and I will not jeopardize it now for the sake of sating your selfish curiosity.

I think there probably is some information the Abnegation knew that Jeanine wanted to know, but I think he’s exaggerating its importance.

But my instinct was to believe Marcus, and I usually trust my instincts.

When I found out that I was Divergent... when I found out that Erudite would attack Abnegation . . . those revelations changed everything. The truth has a way of changing a person’s plans.

But it is difficult to persuade Tobias to do something he doesn’t want to do, and even more difficult to justify my feelings with no evidence except my intuition.

Not all the Erudite are power hungry and devoid of conscience, like their leader, Jeanine Matthews.

But they are essential—without them, there would be inefficient farming, insufficient medical treatments, and no technological advance.

“In their enthusiasm for conflict resolution, the Amity have apparently forgotten that meddling creates more conflict,” says Tobias.

We believe that, given the inevitability of further conflict in our city, it would be selfish of us to stay here while what remains of our faction is inside that fence.

Both of us watch the purification happen, and I wonder if he is thinking what I am: that it would be nice if life worked this way, stripping the dirt from our lives and sending us out into the world clean. But some dirt is destined to linger.

I can’t be with him in that way if one of my reasons for wanting it is to distract myself from grief.

“You think if you deliver it to the Erudite, they’ll forgive your indiscretion and let you back in their good graces.”

“You violated the terms of our peace agreement,” he says gently.

“We have to follow protocol,” the younger man says. “Please sit, and we’ll discuss what happened, and then we’ll let you go.”

I feel a sharp pain in my neck. Dark spots cover the man in front of me, obscuring my view of his face.

“What did you do to her?” Tobias says, terse. “What in God’s name did you do?”

“The peace serum,” Johanna says. “In small doses, it has a mild, calming effect and improves the mood. The only side effect is some slight dizziness. We administer it to members of our community who have trouble keeping the peace.”

“It explains,” he says, gritting his teeth, “why, under a pretense of neutrality—as if such a thing is possible!—you have left us to die at the hands of the Erudite.”

“Why couldn’t I fight the peace serum?” I say. “If my brain is weird enough to resist the simulation serum, why not this one?”

“Well, obviously I wanted to,” I say, frustrated, but without conviction. Did I want to? Or was it nice to forget about anger, forget about pain, forget about everything for a few hours?

“Are you conceding?” he says, his mouth falling open with mock surprise.

“Those of us who aren’t dressed like the Amity should go to the dormitories, then,” Marcus says. “The rest of you, put your hair down; try to mimic their behavior.”

We catch up to the Amity in front of us as we cross the courtyard to the dining hall and disperse among them.

The Amity don’t ask questions; they just let us dissolve into their faction.

I feel a little relieved to know that half of the Dauntless, at least, are not traitors.

We are in a factionless storehouse, and the factionless, who are supposed to be scattered, isolated, and without community... are together inside it. Are together, like a faction.

Its actions may determine the future of this city.

“Once the Dauntless reach a certain level of physical deterioration,” he says, “they are asked to leave.

Noise and activity are the refuges of the bereaved and the guilty.

“Before the simulation attack, part of the Abnegation aid effort involved testing the factionless for a certain genetic anomaly,” she says.

“Obviously those who can’t confine themselves to a particular way of thinking would be most likely to leave a faction or fail its initiation, right?”

No factions? A world in which no one knows who they are or where they fit? I can’t even fathom it. I imagine only chaos and isolation.

I don’t want to admit that I was eavesdropping, but I want to tell him I don’t trust Evelyn, or the factionless, or anyone who speaks so casually about demolishing an entire faction.