He was just about to walk back into the clearing and resume his rightful place when he saw Wells enter from the other side of the tree line, leading another group of stunned survivors. Bellamy studied Wells’s upright bearing, his brisk pace, and the confident way he addressed the shambling group as if he were their leader, not a convicted criminal half their age. It was hard for Bellamy to get his head around the fact that mini-Chancellor was his actual, real-life brother.… It wasn’t every day that you not only realized that you’d gotten your father shot but also that you had not one, but two illegal siblings.
Everyone in the clearing suddenly fell silent, and all heads snapped toward the spot from which Wells had just emerged. Bellamy followed their gaze and saw Vice Chancellor Rhodes striding through the trees and into the camp. He moved silently among the hundred and the other survivors with his shoulders thrown back, wearing the slightly bored expression that always made him look like a douche back on the ship. Here it just made him look like a moron. He’d narrowly escaped death less than twenty-four hours ago and now he was on the ground for the first time in his entire life. Would it kill him to show the slightest bit of relief or, hell, excitement?
No one dared speak to the Vice Chancellor as he walked around the clearing in a slow circle, flanked by four guards, surveying the camp they had worked so hard to build. Dozens of people held their breath at once, waiting for him to do or say something. After a long moment, the Vice Chancellor stepped inside the nearest cabin. He was out of sight for a moment, then came back into the sunlight, one corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.
Bellamy wanted to fly across the clearing and punch the sadistic little power grubber right in the face. But one look at the guards who followed him at a short distance, forming a half circle around Rhodes at all times, was enough to keep Bellamy’s feet in place. Not only were there a lot more guards than he’d expected—at least twenty, not counting the ones who were injured and still making their way back from the crash site—they all seemed to have guns. Bellamy swallowed hard. The abstract threat of guards with orders to shoot him was one thing. Staring down the barrel of a real gun here on Earth was another. Bellamy wasn’t exactly more afraid than he had been before the newcomers got here. He was just more certain than ever that he and Octavia had to look out for themselves, because no one else would do it for them.
Eventually, Rhodes made his way into the center of the clearing and turned to address the group that had gathered around him. He paused, keeping his audience waiting. Octavia stood in the front of the group, eyeing the Vice Chancellor skeptically. Wells moved off to one side, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. Clarke remained at the very back of the crowd, leaning against the wall of the hospital cabin. She looked exhausted, which made Bellamy all the more furious. He’d give anything to be able to put his arm around her and tell her that she’d done an amazing job.
The people gathered around looked at Rhodes, their dirt-smeared faces filled with expectation—and, Bellamy realized with some surprise, relief. Most of the hundred seemed glad Rhodes and his minions were here. They actually thought he was here to help them.
Finally, Rhodes began. “My fellow citizens, this is a sad day, a day we will mourn for generations, but it is also a great day. I am so honored to stand here with you, at long last, on the soil of Earth. The contributions of those of you who came down on the first dropship will not soon be forgotten. You have bravely forged ahead where none of our people have set foot in hundreds of years.”
Bellamy studied Clarke’s face. She betrayed no reaction, but he knew they were thinking exactly the same thing. There were plenty of humans who had set foot here, not all of them Earthborns. Clarke’s parents, for example, and the others who had come to Earth with them. So far, though, none of the hundred knew Clarke’s parents were alive besides Bellamy and Wells.
“You have proven that human life can, indeed, exist again on Earth. That is magnificent. But our lives do not depend solely on safe water or clean air.” He paused for dramatic effect and looked around the crowd, locking eyes with one person after another. “Our lives depend on each other,” he continued. Several people in the crowd nodded emphatically, and Bellamy wanted to gag.
“And in order to protect each other and ourselves, we must follow certain rules,” Rhodes said. Here it comes, thought Bellamy, clenching his hands into fists, as if he could somehow hold back the words he knew would change everything. “Life on the Colony was peaceful. Everyone was safe and provided for”—clearly this man had never lived on Arcadia or Walden—“and we were able to keep our species alive because we respected authority, did what was expected of us, and maintained order. Just because we now live on Earth does not mean we can abandon that adherence to a code that is more important than any one of us.” Rhodes paused again, letting his words sink in.
Bellamy took in Wells’s and Clarke’s faces, and he could tell from their expressions that they were all on the same page. Rhodes was full of shit. He had said nothing about the hundred being forgiven for their crimes—which they had all been promised in exchange for their “service” to humanity when they came down here on the first dropship. And based on the number of happy reunions Bellamy had witnessed that day—one or two among the non-Phoenicians—obviously none of their families had been given priority on the next wave of ships. The number of lies this man was spewing in one short speech was repulsive. But even worse, it seemed like a lot of people were eating it up. Open your eyes, Bellamy wanted to shout at them. We survived fine here without these idiots, and we’ll be fine without them. Don’t listen to a word this jerk says.
“I trust that each and every one of you”—Rhodes was wrapping up, his words flowery but his tone ice cold—“will recognize the greater good and do exactly what is expected of you, for your own personal well-being but also for the continuation of our very race. Thank you.”
A chill shot down Bellamy’s spine. This wasn’t a warm and fuzzy motivational speech. This was a warning. Do what I say or you will be removed from the herd, the Vice Chancellor was threatening them. Bellamy didn’t trust himself to toe the line, that was for sure. He had never been much of a rule follower on the Colony. And now, here on Earth, where he had spent entire days and nights alone, deep in the woods, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d obey anyone ever again. For the first time in his life—in all their lives—Bellamy was free. They all were.