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ALSOBYMARIELU
LEGENDPRODIGY
G.P.PUTNAM’SSONSPublishedbythePenguinGroupPenguinGroup(USA)LLC
375HudsonStreet,NewYork,NY10014
USA|Canada|UK|Ireland|Australia|NewZealand|India|SouthAfrica|Chinapenguin.com
APenguinRandomHouseCompany
Copyright©2013byXiweiLu.Penguinsupportscopyright.Copyrightfuelscreativity,encouragesdiversevoices,promotesfreespeech,andcreatesavibrantculture.Thankyouforbuyinganauthorizededitionofthisbookandforcomplyingwithcopyrightlawsbynotreproducing,scanning,ordistributinganypartofitinanyformwithout
permission.YouaresupportingwritersandallowingPenguintocontinuetopublishbooksforeveryreader.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationDataLu,Marie,1984–
Champion:aLegendnovel/MarieLu.pagescm
Summary:“JuneandDayhavesacrificedsomuchforthepeopleoftheRepublic—andeachother—andnowtheircountryisonthebrinkofanewexistence.Justwhenapeacetreatyisimminent,aplagueoutbreakcausespanicintheColonies,andwarthreatenstheRepublic’sbordercities”—Providedby
publisher.[1.Plague—Fiction.2.Love—Fiction.3.Sciencefiction.]I.Title.
PZ7.L96768Ch2013[Fic]—dc232013028221
ISBN978-0-698-13541-3MapillustrationbyPeterBollinger.
Thepublisherdoesnothaveanycontroloveranddoesnotassumeanyresponsibilityforauthororthird-
partywebsitesortheircontent.
Formyreaders
Contents
AlsobyMarieLuTitlePageCopyrightDedicationMapDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJune
DayJuneTenYearsLaterAcknowledgments
SANFRANCISCO,CALIFORNIAREPUBLICOFAMERICA
POPULATION:24,646,320
OUTOFALLTHEDISGUISESI’VEWORN,THISONEmightbemyfavorite.
Darkredhair,differentenoughfrommyusualwhite-blond,cuttojustpastmyshouldersandpulledbackintoatail.Greencontactsthatlooknaturalwhenlayeredovermyblueeyes.Acrumpled,half-tuckedcollarshirt,itstinysilverbuttonsshininginthedark,athinmilitaryjacket,blackpantsandsteel-toedboots,athickgrayscarfwrappedaroundmyneck,chin,andmouth.Adarksoldiercapispulledlowovermyforehead,andacrimson,paintedtattoostretchesalloverthelefthalfofmyface,changingmeintosomeoneunfamiliar.Asidefromthis,Iwearanever-presentearpieceandmike.TheRepublicinsistsonit.
Inmostothercities,I’dprobablygetevenmorestaresthanIusuallydobecauseofthatgiantgoddytattoo—notexactlyasubtlemarker,Igottaadmit.ButhereinSanFrancisco,Iblendrightinwiththeothers.ThefirstthingInoticedwhenEdenandImovedtoFriscoeightmonthsagowasthelocaltrend:youngpeoplepaintingblackorredpatternsontheirfaces,somesmallanddelicate,likeRepublicsealsontheirtemplesorsomethingsimilar,othershugeandsprawling,likegiantpatternsoftheRepublic’slandshape.Ichoseaprettygenerictattootonight,becauseI’mnotloyalenoughtotheRepublictostampthatloyaltyrightonmyface.LeavethattoJune.Instead,Ihavestylizedflames.Goodenough.
Myinsomnia’sactinguptonight,soinsteadofsleeping,I’mwalkingalonethroughasectorcalledMarina,whichasfarasIcantellisthehillier,FriscoequivalentofLA’sLakesector.Thenight’scoolandprettyquiet,andalightdrizzleisblowinginfromthecity’sbay.Thestreetsarenarrow,glisteningwet,andriddledwithpotholes,andthebuildingsthatriseuponbothsides—mostofthemtallenoughtovanishintotonight’slow-lyingclouds—areeclectic,paintedwithfadingredandgoldandblack,theirsidesfortifiedwithenormoussteelbeamstocountertheearthquakesthatroll
througheverycoupleofmonths.JumboTronsfiveorsixstorieshighsitoneveryotherblock,blaringtheusualbarrageofRepublicnews.Theairsmellssaltyandbitter,likesmokeandindustrialwastemixedwithseawater,andsomewhereinthere,afaintwhiffoffriedfish.Sometimes,whenIturndownacorner,I’llsuddenlyendupcloseenoughtothewater’sedgetogetmybootswet.Herethelandslopesrightintothebayandhundredsofbuildingspokeouthalfsubmergedalongthehorizon.WheneverIgetaviewofthebay,IcanalsoseetheGoldenGateRuins,thetwistedremnantsofsomeoldbridgeallpiledupalongtheothersideoftheshore.Ahandfulofpeoplejostlepastmenowandthen,butforthemostpartthecityisasleep.Scatteredbonfireslightalleyways,gatheringspotsforthesector’sstreetfolks.It’snotthatdifferentfromLake.
Well—Iguesstherearesomedifferencesnow.TheSanFranciscoTrialStadium,forone,whichsitsemptyandunlitoffinthedistance.Fewerstreetpoliceinthepoorsectors.Thecity’sgraffiti.Youcanalwaysgetanideaofhowthepeoplearefeelingbylookingattherecentgraffiti.AlotofthemessagesI’veseenlatelyactuallysupporttheRepublic’snewElector.Heisourhope,saysonemessagescrawledonthesideofabuilding.Anotherpaintedonthestreetreads:TheElectorwillguideusoutofthedarkness.Alittletoooptimistic,ifyouaskme,butIguessthey’regoodsigns.Andenmustbedoingsomethingright.Andyet.Everynowandthen,I’llalsoseemessagesthatsay,TheElector’sahoax,orBrainwashed,orTheDayweknewisdead.
Idon’tknow.SometimesthisnewtrustbetweenAndenandthepeoplefeelslikeastring...andIamthatstring.Besides,maybethehappygraffiti’sfake,paintedbypropagandaofficers.Whynot?
YouneverknowwiththeRepublic.EdenandI,ofcourse,haveaFriscoapartmentinarichsectorcalled
Pacifica,wherewestaywithourcaretaker,Lucy.TheRepublic’sgottatakecareofitssixteen-year-oldmost-wanted-criminal-turned-national-hero,doesn’tit?IrememberhowmuchIdistrustedLucy—astern,stout,fifty-two-year-oldladydressedinclassicRepubliccolors—whenshefirstshowedupatourdoorinDenver.“TheRepublichasassignedmetoassistyouboys,”shetoldmeasshebustledintoourapartment.HereyeshadsettledimmediatelyonEden.“Especiallythelittleone.”
Yeah.Thatdidn’tsitwellwithme.Firstofall,it’dtakenmetwomonthsbeforeIcouldevenletEdenoutofmysight.Weatesidebyside;weslept
sidebyside;hewasneveralone.I’dgoneasfarasstandingoutsidehisbathroomdoor,asifRepublicsoldierswouldsomehowsuckhimoutthroughavent,takehimbacktoalab,andhookhimuptoabunchofmachines.
“Edendoesn’tneedyou,”I’dsnappedatLucy.“He’sgotme.Itakecareofhim.”
Butmyhealthstartedfluctuatingafterthosefirstcoupleofmonths.SomedaysIfeltfine;otherdays,I’dbestuckinbedwithacripplingheadache.Onthosebaddays,Lucywouldtakeover—andafterafewshoutingmatches,sheandIsettledintoagrudgingroutine.Shedoesmakeprettyawesomemeatpies.AndwhenwemovedheretoFrisco,shecamewithus.SheguidesEden.Shemanagesmymedications.
WhenI’mfinallytiredofwalking,InoticethatI’vewanderedrightoutofMarinaandintoawealthierneighboringdistrict.IstopinfrontofaclubwithTHEOBSIDIANLOUNGEscoredintoametalslaboveritsdoor.Islideagainstthewallintoasittingposition,myarmsrestingonmyknees,andfeelthemusic’svibrations.Mymetallegisice-coldthroughthefabricofmytrousers.Onthewallacrossfromme,graffitiscrawledinredreads,Day=Traitor.Isigh,takeasilvertinfrommypocket,andpulloutalongcigarette.IrunafingeracrosstheSANFRANCISCOCENTRALHOSPITALtextimprinteddownitslength.Prescriptioncigarettes.Doctor’sorders,yeah?Iputittomylipswithtremblingfingersandlightitup.Closeeyes.Takeapuff.GraduallyIlosemyselfinthecloudsofbluesmoke,waitingforthesweet,hallucinogeniceffectstowashoverme.
Doesn’ttakelongtonight.Soontheconstant,dullheadachedisappears,andtheworldaroundmetakesonablurrysheenthatIknowisn’tonlyfromtherain.Agirl’ssittingnexttome.It’sTess.
ShegivesmethegrinIwassofamiliarwithbackonthestreetsofLake.“AnynewsfromtheJumboTrons?”sheasksme,pointingtowardascreenacrosstheroad.
Iexhalebluesmokeandlazilyshakemyhead.“Nope.Imean,I’veseenacoupleofPatriot-relatedheadlines,butit’slikeyouguysvanishedoffthemap.Whereareyou?Whereareyougoing?”
“Doyoumissme?”Tessasksinsteadofanswering.Istareattheshimmeryimageofher.She’showIrememberfromthe
streets—herreddish-brownhairtiedintoamessybraid,hereyeslargeandluminous,kindandgentle.LittlebabyTess.Whatweremylastwordsto
her...backwhenwehadbotchedthePatriots’assassinationattemptonAnden?Please,Tess—Ican’tleaveyouhere.Butthat’sexactlywhatIdid.
Iturnaway,takinganotherdragonmycigarette.DoImissher?“Everyday,”Ireply.
“You’vebeentryingtofindme,”Tesssays,scootingcloser.IswearIcanalmostfeelhershoulderagainstmine.“I’veseenyou,scouringtheJumboTronsandairwavesfornews,eavesdroppingonthestreets.ButthePatriotsareinhidingrightnow.”
Ofcoursethey’reinhiding.Whywouldtheyattack,nowthatAnden’sinpowerandapeacetreatybetweentheRepublicandtheColoniesisadonedeal?Whatcouldtheirnewcausepossiblybe?Ihavenoidea.Maybetheydon’thaveone.Maybetheydon’tevenexistanymore.“Iwishyouwouldcomeback,”ImurmurtoTess.“It’dbenicetoseeyouagain.”
“WhataboutJune?”Assheasksthis,herimagevanishes.She’sreplacedbyJune,withher
longponytailandherdarkeyesthatshinewithhintsofgold,seriousandanalyzing,alwaysanalyzing.Ileanmyheadagainstmykneeandclosemyeyes.EventheillusionofJuneisenoughtosendastabbingpainthroughmychest.Hell.Imisshersomuch.
IrememberhowI’dsaidgood-byetoherbackinDenver,beforeEdenandImovedtoFrisco.“I’msurewe’llbeback,”I’dtoldherovermymike,tryingtofilltheawkwardsilencebetweenus.“AfterEden’streatmentisdone.”Thiswasalie,ofcourse.WeweregoingtoFriscoformytreatment,notEden’s.ButJunedidn’tknowthis,soshejustsaid,“Comebacksoon.”
Thatwasalmosteightmonthsago.Ihaven’theardfromhersince.Idon’tknowifit’sbecauseeachofusistoohesitanttobothertheother,tooafraidthattheotherdoesn’twanttotalk,ormaybebothofusarejusttoodamnproudtobetheonedesperateenoughtoreachout.Maybeshe’sjustnotinterestedenough.Butyouknowhowitgoes.Aweekpasseswithoutcontact,andthenamonth,andsoontoomuchtimehaspassedandcallingherwouldjustfeelrandomandweird.SoIdon’t.Besides,whatwouldIsay?Don’tworry,doctorsarefightingtosavemylife.Don’tworry,they’retryingtoshrinktheproblemareainmybrainwithagiantpileofmedicationbeforeattemptinganoperation.Don’tworry,Antarcticamightgrantmeaccesstotreatmentintheirsuperiorhospitals.Don’tworry,I’llbejustfine.
What’sthepointofkeepingintouchwiththegirlyou’recrazyabout,
whenyou’redying?Theremindersendsathrobbingpainthroughthebackofmyhead.“It’s
betterthisway,”Itellmyselfforthehundredthtime.Anditis.Bynotseeingherforsolong,thememoryofhowwe’doriginallymethasgrowndimmer,andIfindmyselfthinkingaboutherconnectiontomyfamily’sdeathslessoften.
UnlikeTess’s,forsomereasonJune’simageneversaysaword.Itrytoignoretheshimmerymirage,butsherefusestogoaway.Sodamnstubborn.
Finally,Istand,stubmycigaretteintothepavement,andstepthroughthedooroftheObsidianLounge.Maybethemusicandlightswillshakeherfrommysystem.
Foraninstant,Ican’tseeathing.Theclubispitch-black,andthesound’sdeafening.I’mstoppedimmediatelybyanenormouspairofsoldiers.Oneofthemputsafirmhandonmyshoulder.“Nameandbranch?”heasks.
Ihavenointerestinmakingmyrealidentityknown.“CorporalSchuster.Airforce,”Ireply,blurtingoutarandomnameandthefirstbranchthatcomestomind.Ialwaysthinkoftheairforcefirst,mostlybecauseofKaede.“I’mstationedatNavalBaseTwo.”
Theguardnods.“Airforcekidsoverinthebackleft,nearthebathrooms.AndifIhearyoupickinganyfightswiththearmybooths,you’reoutandyourcommanderhearsaboutitinthemorning.Gotit?”
Inod,andthesoldiersletmepass.Iwalkdownadarkhallandthroughaseconddoor,thenmeltintothecrowdsandflashinglightsinside.
Thedancefloorisjammedwithpeopleinlooseshirtsandrolled-upsleeves,dressespairedwithrumpleduniforms.Ifindtheairforceboothsinthebackoftheroom.Good,thereareseveralemptyones.Islideintoabooth,propupmybootsagainstthecushionedseats,andleanmyheadback.AtleastJune’simagehasdisappeared.Theloudmusicsendsallmythoughtsscattering.
I’veonlybeenintheboothforafewminuteswhenagirlcutsherwaythroughthecrowdeddancefloorandstumblestowardme.Shelooksflushed,hereyesbrightandteasing;andwhenIglancebehindher,Inoticeaclusteroflaughinggirlswatchingus.Iforceasmile.Usually,Iliketheattentioninclubs,butsometimes,Ijustwanttoclosemyeyesandletthechaostakemeaway.
Sheleansoverandpressesherlipsagainstmyear.“Excuseme,”she
shoutsoverthenoise.“Mygirlfriendswanttoknowifyou’reDay.”I’vebeenrecognizedalready?Ishrinkinstinctivelyawayandshakemy
headsotheotherscansee.“Yougotthewrongguy,”Ireplywithawrygrin.“Butthanksforthecompliment.”
Thegirl’sfaceisalmostentirelycoveredinshadows,butevenso,Icantellshe’sblushingfuriously.Herfriendsburstoutlaughing.Noneofthemlookliketheybelievemydenial.“Wanttodance?”thegirlasks.Sheglancesoverhershouldertowardtheflashingblueandgoldlights,thenbackatme.Thismustbesomethingherfriendsdaredhertodotoo.
AsI’mtryingtothinkupsomesortofpoliterefusal,Itakeinthegirl’sappearance.Theclub’stoodarkformetogetagoodlookather,andallIseeareglimpsesofneonhighlightsonherskinandlongponytail,herglossylipscurvedintoasmile,herbodyleanandsmoothinashortdressandmilitaryboots.Myrefusalfadesonmytongue.SomethingaboutherremindsmeofJune.IntheeightmonthssinceJunefirstbecameaPrinceps-Elect,Ihaven’tfeltexcitedaboutmanygirls—butnow,withthisshadowydoppelgängerbeckoningmeontothedancefloor,Iletmyselffeelhopefulagain.
“Yeah,whynot?”Isay.Thegirlbreaksintoawidesmile.WhenIgetupfromtheboothand
takeherhand,herfriendsallletoutagaspofsurprise,followedbyaloudcheer.Thegirlleadsmethroughthem,andbeforeIknowit,we’vepushedourwayintothecrowdsandcarvedoutatinyspacerightinthemiddleoftheaction.
Ipressmyselfagainsther,sherunsahandalongthebackofmyneck,andweletthepoundingbeatcarryusaway.She’scute,Iadmittomyself,blindedinthisseaoflightsandlimbs.Thesongchanges,thenchangesagain.Ihavenoideahowlongwe’relostlikethis,butwhensheleansforwardandbrushesherlipsovermyown,Iclosemyeyesandlether.Ievenfeelashiverrundownmyspine.Shekissesmetwice,hermouthsoftandliquid,hertonguetastingofvodkaandfruit.Iflattenonehandagainstthesmallofthegirl’sbackandpullhercloser,untilherbody’ssolidlyagainstmine.Herkissesgrowmoreurgent.SheisJune,Itellmyself,choosingtoindulgeinthefantasy.Withmyeyesclosed,mymindstillhazyfrommycigarette’shallucinogens,Icanbelieveitforamoment—Icanpictureherkissingmehere,takingeverylastbreathfrommylungs.Thegirlprobablysensesthechangeinmymovements,mysuddenhungerand
desire,becauseshegrinsagainstmylips.SheisJune.ItisJune’sdarkhairthatbrushesagainstmyface,June’slonglashesthattouchmycheeks,June’sarmwrappedaroundmyneck,June’sbodyslidingagainstmine.Asoftmoanescapesme.
“Comeon,”shewhispers.Mischieflacesherwords.“Let’sgogetsomeair.”
Howlonghasitbeen?Idon’twanttoleave,becauseitmeansI’llhavetoopenmyeyesandJunewillbegone,replacedwiththisgirlthatIdon’tknow.ButshepullsonmyhandandI’mforcedtolookaround.Juneisnowheretobeseen,ofcourse.Theclub’slightsflashandI’mmomentarilyblinded.Sheguidesmethroughthethrongsofdancers,downtheclub’sdarkhallway,andoutanunmarkedbackdoor.Westepintoaquietbackalley.Afewweakspotlightsshinedownalongthepath,givingeverythinganeerie,greenishglow.
Shepushesmeagainstthewallanddrownsmeinanotherkiss.Herskinismoist,andIfeelhergoosebumpsrisebeneathmytouch.Ikissherback,andasmalllaughofsurpriseescapesherwhenIflipusaroundandpinheragainstthewall.
She’sJune,Itellmyselfonrepeat.Mylipsworkgreedilyalongherneck,tastingsmokeandperfume.
Faintstaticsizzlesinmyearpiece,thesoundofrainandfryingeggs.Itrytoignoretheincomingcall,evenasaman’svoicefillsmyears.Talkaboutabuzzkill.“Mr.Wing,”hesays.
Idon’tanswerit.Goaway.I’mbusy.Afewsecondslater,thevoicestartsupagain.“Mr.Wing,thisisCaptain
DavidGuzmanofDenverCityPatrolFourteen.Iknowyou’rethere.”Oh,thisguy.Thispoorcaptain’salwaystheonetaskedwithtryingtoget
holdofme.Isighandbreakawayfromthegirl.“Sorry,”Isaybreathlessly.Igive
heranapologeticfrownandgestureatmyear.“Givemeaminute?”Shesmilesandsmoothesdownherdress.“I’llbeinside,”shereplies.
“Lookforme.”Thenshestepsthroughthedoorandbackintotheclub.Iturnmymikeonandstartslowlypacingupanddownthealley.“What
doyouwant?”Isayinanannoyedwhisper.Thecaptainsighsovertheearpieceandlaunchesintohismessage.“Mr.
Wing,yourpresenceisrequestedinDenvertomorrownight,onIndependenceDay,attheCapitolTower’sballroom.Asalways,youarefree
toturndowntherequest—asyouusuallydo,”hemuttersunderhisbreath.“However,thisbanquetisanexceptionalmeetingofgreatimportance.Shouldyouchoosetoattend,we’llhaveaprivatejetwaitingforyouinthemorning.”
Anexceptionalmeetingofgreatimportance?Everheardsomanyfancywordsinonesentence?Irollmyeyes.Everymonthorso,Igetaninvitationtosomegoddycapitalevent,likeaballforallthehigh-rankingwargeneralsorthecelebrationtheyheldwhenAndenfinallyendedtheTrials.Buttheonlyreasontheywantmetogotothesethingsissotheycanshowmeoffandremindthepeople,“Look,justincaseyouforgot,Dayisonourside!”Don’tpushyourluck,Anden.
“Mr.Wing,”thecaptainsayswhenIstaysilent,asifhe’sresortingtosomefinalargument,“thegloriousElectorpersonallyrequestsyourpresence.SodoesthePrinceps-Elect.”
ThePrinceps-Elect.Mybootscrunchtoahaltinthemiddleofthealley.Iforgettobreathe.Don’tgettooexcited—afterall,therearethreePrinceps-Elects,andhe
mightbereferringtoanyoneofthem.AfewsecondspassbeforeIfinallyask,“WhichPrinceps-Elect?”
“Theonewhoactuallymatterstoyou.”Mycheekswarmatthetauntinhisvoice.“June?”“Yes,Ms.JuneIparis,”thecaptainreplies.Hesoundsrelievedtofinally
havemyattention.“Shewantedtomakeitapersonalrequestthistime.ShewouldverymuchliketoseeyouattheCapitolTower’sbanquet.”
Myheadaches,andIfighttosteadymybreathing.Allthoughtsofthegirlintheclubgooutthewindow.Junehasnotpersonallyaskedformeineightmonths—thisisthefirsttimethatshe’srequestedIattendapublicfunction.“What’sthisfor?”Iask.“JustanIndependenceDayparty?Whysoimportant?”
Thecaptainhesitates.“It’samatterofnationalsecurity.”“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”Myinitialexcitementslowlywanes—
maybehe’sjustbluffing.“Look,Captain,I’vegotsomeunfinishedbusinesstotakecareof.Tryconvincingmeagaininthemorning.”
Thecaptaincursesunderhisbreath.“Fine,Mr.Wing.Haveityourway.”HemumblessomethingIcan’tquitemakeout,thengoesoffline.Ifrowninexasperationasmyinitialexcitementfadesawayintoasinkingdisappointment.MaybeIshouldheadhomenow.It’stimeformetogoback
andcheckuponEden,anyway.Whatajoke.Chancesarehe’sprobablylyingaboutJune’srequestinthefirstplace,becauseifshe’dreallywantedmetogobacktothecapitalthatbadly,she—
“Day?”Anewvoicecomesovermyearpiece.Ifreeze.Havethehallucinogensfromthemedswornoffyet?DidIjustimagine
hervoice?EventhoughIhaven’thearditinalmostayear,Iwouldrecognizeitanywhere,andthesoundaloneisenoughtoconjuretheimageofJunestandingbeforeme,asifI’drunacrossherbychanceinthisalley.Please,don’tletitbeher.Please,letitbeher.
Didhervoicealwayshavethiseffectonme?IhavenoideahowlongIwasfrozenlikethis,butitmust’vebeena
while,becausesherepeats,“Day,it’sme.June.Areyouthere?”Ashiverrunsthroughme.
Thisisreal.It’sreallyher.HertoneisdifferentfromwhatIremember.Hesitantandformal,like
she’sspeakingtoastranger.Ifinallymanagetocomposemyselfandclickmymikebackon.“I’mhere,”Ireply.Myowntoneisdifferenttoo—justashesitant,justasformal.Ihopeshedoesn’theartheslighttremorinit.
There’sashortpauseontheothersidebeforeJunecontinues.“Hi.”Thenalongsilence,followedby,“Howareyou?”
SuddenlyIfeelastormofwordsbuildingupinsideme,threateningtopourout.Iwanttoblurtouteverything:I’vethoughtaboutyoueverydaysincethatfinalfarewellbetweenus,I’msorryfornotcontactingyou,Iwishyouhadcontactedme.Imissyou.Imissyou.
Idon’tsayanyofthis.Instead,theonlythingImanageis,“Fine.What’sup?”
Shepauses.“Oh.That’sgood.Iapologizeforthelatecall,asI’msureyou’retryingtosleep.ButtheSenateandtheElectorhaveaskedmetosendthisrequesttoyoupersonally.Iwouldn’tdoitunlessIfeltitwastrulyimportant.DenveristhrowingaballforIndependenceDay,andduringtheevent,we’llbehavinganemergencymeeting.Weneedyouinattendance.”
“Why?”GuessI’veresortedtoone-wordreplies.Forsomereason,it’sallIcanthinkofwithJune’svoiceontheline.
Sheexhales,sendingafaintburstofstaticthroughtheearpiece,andthensays,“You’veheardaboutthepeacetreatybeingdraftedbetweentheRepublicandtheColonies,right?”
“Yeah,ofcourse.”Everyoneinthecountryknowsaboutthat:ourpreciouslittleAnden’sgreatestambition,toendthewarthat’sbeengoingonforwhoknowshowlong.Andsofar,thingsseemtobegoingintherightdirection,wellenoughthatthewarfronthasbeenataquietstalemateforthepastfourmonths.Whoknewadaylikethatcouldcome,justlikehowwe’dneverexpectedtoseetheTrialstadiumssittingunusedacrossthecountry.“SeemsliketheElector’sontracktobecomingtheRepublic’shero,yeah?”
“Don’tspeaktoosoon.”June’swordsdarken,andIfeellikeIcanseeherexpressionthroughtheearpiece.“YesterdaywereceivedanangrytransmissionfromtheColonies.There’saplaguespreadingthroughtheirwarfrontcities,andtheybelieveitwascausedbysomeofthebiologicalweaponswe’dsentacrosstheirborders.They’veeventracedtheserialnumbersontheshellsoftheweaponstheybelievestartedthisplague.”
Herwordsareturningmuffledthroughtheshockinmymind,thefogthat’sbringingbackmemoriesofEdenandhisblack,bleedingeyes,ofthatboyonthetrainwhowasbeingusedasapartofthewarfare.“Doesthatmeanthepeacetreatyisoff?”Iask.
“Yes.”June’svoicefalls.“TheColoniessaytheplagueisanofficialactofwaragainstthem.”
“Andwhatdoesthishavetodowithme?”Anotherlong,ominouspause.ItfillsmewithdreadsoicycoldthatIfeel
likemyfingersareturningnumb.Theplague.It’shappening.It’sallcomefullcircle.
“I’lltellyouwhenyougethere,”Junefinallysays.“Bestnottotalkaboutitoverearpieces.”
IDESPISEMYFIRSTCONVERSATIONWITHDAYAFTEReightmonthsofnocommunication.Ihateit.WhendidIbecomesomanipulative?WhymustIalwaysusehisweaknessesagainsthim?
Lastnightat2306hours,Andencametomyapartmentcomplexandknockedonmydoor.Alone.Idon’teventhinkguardswerestationedinthehallwayforhisprotection.Itwasmyfirstwarningthatwhateverheneededtotellmehadtobeimportant—andsecret.
“Ihavetoaskafavorofyou,”hesaidasIlethimin.AndenhasalmostperfectedtheartofbeingayoungElector(calm,cool,collected,aproudchinunderstress,anevenvoicewhenangered),butthistimeIcouldseethedeepworryinhiseyes.Evenmydog,Ollie,couldtellthatAndenwastroubled,andtriedreassuringhimbypushinghiswetnoseagainstAnden’shand.
InudgedOllieawaybeforeturningbacktoAnden.“Whatisit?”Iasked.Andenranahandthroughhisdarkcurls.“Idon’tmeantodisturbyousolate
atnight,”hesaid,leaninghisheaddowntowardmineinquietconcern.“ButI’mafraidthisisnotaconversationthatcanwait.”HestoodcloseenoughsothatifIwantedto,Icouldtiltmyfaceupandaccidentallybrushmylipsagainsthis.Myheartbeatquickenedatthethought.
Andenseemedtosensethetensioninmypose,becausehetookanapologeticstepawayandgavememoreroomtobreathe.Ifeltastrangemixtureofreliefanddisappointment.“Thepeacetreatyisover,”hewhispered.“TheColoniesarepreparingtodeclarewaragainstusonceagain.”
“What?”Iwhisperedback.“Why?What’shappened?”“Wordfrommygeneralsisthatacoupleofweeksago,adeadlyvirusstarted
sweepingthroughtheColonies’warfrontlikewildfire.”Whenhesawmyeyeswideninunderstanding,henodded.Helookedsoweary,burdenedwiththeweightofanentirenation’ssafety.“ApparentlyIwastoolateinwithdrawingourbiologicalweaponsfromthewarfront.”
Eden.TheexperimentalvirusesthatAnden’sfatherhadusedinattemptstocauseaplagueintheColonies.Formonths,I’dtriedtopushthattothebackofmymind—afterall,Edenwassafenow,underthecareofDayand,lastIheard,slowlyadjustingtosemblancesofanormallife.Forthelastfewmonths,thewarfronthadstoodsilentwhileAndenattemptedtohashoutapeacetreatywiththeColonies.I’dthoughtthatwewouldbelucky,thatnothingwouldcomeoutofthatbiologicalwarfare.Wishfulthinking.
“DotheSenatorsknow?”Iaskedafterawhile.“OrtheotherPrinceps-Elects?Whyareyoutellingmethis?I’mhardlyyourclosestadvisor.”
Andensighedandsqueezedthebridgeofhisnose.“Forgiveme.IwishIdidn’thavetoinvolveyouinthis.TheColoniesbelievethatwehavethecuretothisvirusinourlaboratoriesandaresimplywithholdingit.Theydemandweshareit,orelsetheyputalloftheirstrengthbehindafull-scaleinvasionoftheRepublic.Andthistime,itwon’tbeareturntoouroldwar.TheColonieshavesecuredanally.TheystruckatradedealwithAfrica—theColoniesgetmilitaryhelp,andinreturn,Africagetshalfourland.”
Afeelingofforebodingcreptoverme.Evenwithouthimsayingit,Icouldtellwherethiswasgoing.“Wedon’thaveacure,dowe?”
“No.Butwedoknowwhichformerpatientshavethepotentialtohelpusfindthatcure.”
Istartedshakingmyhead.WhenAndenreachedouttotouchmyelbow,Ijerkedaway.“Absolutelynot,”Isaid.“Youcan’taskthisofme.Iwon’tdoit.”
Andenlookedpained.“IhavecalledforaprivatebanquettomorrownighttogatherallofourSenators.WehavenochoiceifwewanttoputastoptothisandfindawaytosecurepeacewiththeColonies.”Histonegrewfirmer.“YouknowthisaswellasIdo.Iwanthimtoattendthisbanquetandhearusout.Weneedhispermissionifwe’regoingtogettoEden.”
He’sserious,Irealizedinshock.“You’llnevergethimtodoit.Yourealizethat,don’tyou?Thecountry’ssupportforyouisstillsoft,andDay’salliancewithyouishesitantatbest.Whatdoyouthinkhe’llsaytothis?Whatifyouangerhimenoughforhimtocallthepeopletoaction,totellthemtorebelagainstyou?Orworse—whatifheasksthemtosupporttheColonies?”
“Iknow.I’vethoughtthroughallofthis.”Andenrubbedhistemplesinexhaustion.“Iftherewasabetteroption,I’dtakeit.”
“Soyouwantmetomakehimagreetothis,”Iadded.Myirritationwastoostrongtobotherhiding.“Iwon’tdoit.GettheotherSenatorstoconvinceDay,ortryconvincinghimyourself.OrfindawaytoapologizetotheColonies’
Chancellor—askhimtonegotiatenewterms.”“YouareDay’sweakness,June.He’lllistentoyou.”Andenwincedevenas
hesaidthis,asifhedidn’twanttoadmitit.“Iknowhowthismakesmesound.Idon’twanttobecruel—Idon’twantDaytoseeusastheenemy.ButIwilldowhatittakestoprotecttheRepublic’speople.Otherwise,theColonieswillattack,andifthathappens,youknowit’slikelytheviruswillspreadhereaswell.”
Itwasworsethanthat,eventhoughAndendidn’tsayitaloud.IftheColoniesattackuswithAfricaattheirside,thenourmilitarymightnotbestrongenoughtoholdthemback.Thistime,theymightwin.He’lllistentoyou.Iclosedmyeyesandbowedmyhead.Ididn’twanttoadmitit,butIknewthatAndenwasright.
SoIdidasherequested.IcalledDayandaskedhimtoreturntothecapital.Justthethoughtofseeinghimagainleavesmyheartpounding,achingfromhisabsenceinmylifeoverthesepastmonths.Ihaven’tseenorspokentohimforsolong...andthisisgoingtobehowwereunite?Whatwillhethinkofmenow?
WhatwillhethinkoftheRepublicwhenhefindsoutwhattheywantwithhislittlebrother?
1201HOURS.DENVERCOUNTYCOURTOFFEDERALCRIME.72°FINDOORS.SIXHOURSUNTILISEEDAYATTHEEVENINGBALL.289DAYSAND12HOURSSINCEMETIAS’SDEATH.
ThomasandCommanderJamesonareontrialtoday.I’msotiredoftrials.Inthepastfourmonths,adozenformerSenatorshave
beentriedandconvictedofparticipatingintheplantoassassinateAnden,theplanthatDayandIhadbarelymanagedtostop.ThoseSenatorshaveallbeenexecuted.Razorhasalreadybeenexecuted.SometimesIfeellikesomeonenewisconvictedeachweek.
Buttoday’strialisdifferent.Iknowexactlywhoisbeingsentencedtoday,andwhy.
Isitinabalconyoverlookingthecourtroom’sroundstage,myhandsrestlessintheirwhitesilkgloves,mybodyconstantlyshiftinginmyvestandblackruffledcoat,mybootsquietlytappingagainstthebalconypillars.Mychairis
madeoutofsyntheticoakandcushionedwithsoft,scarletvelvet,butsomehowIjustcan’tmakemyselfcomfortable.Tokeepmyselfcalmandoccupied,I’mcarefullyentwiningfourstraightenedpaperclipsinmylaptoformasmallring.Twoguardsstandbehindme.Threecircularrowsofthecountry’stwenty-sixSenatorssurroundthestage,uniformintheirmatchingscarlet-and-blacksuits,theirsilverepaulettesreflectingthechamber’slight,theirvoicesechoingalongthearchedceilings.Theysoundlargelyindifferent,asifthey’remeetingabouttraderoutesinsteadofpeople’sfates.ManyarenewfacesthathavereplacedthetraitorSenators,whoAndenhasalreadycleanedout.I’mtheonewhosticksoutwithmyblack-and-goldoutfit(eventheseventy-sixsoldiersstandingguardherearecladinscarlet;twoforeachSenator,twoforme,twoforeachoftheotherPrinceps-Elects,fourforAnden,andfourteenatthechamber’sfrontandbackentrances,whichmeansthedefendants—ThomasandCommanderJameson—areconsideredfairlyhighriskandcouldpossiblymakeasuddenmove).
I’mnoSenator,clearly.IamaPrinceps-Electandneedtobedistinguishedassuch.
Twoothersinthechamberwearthesameblack-and-golduniformthatIdo.Myeyeswanderovertothemnow,wheretheysitonotherbalconies.AfterAndentappedmetotrainforthePrincepsposition,Congressurgedhimtoselectseveralothers.Afterall,youcannothaveonlyonepersonpreparingtobecometheleaderoftheSenate,especiallywhenthatpersonisasixteen-year-oldgirlwithoutashredofpoliticalexperience.SoAndenagreed.HepickedouttwomorePrinceps-Elects,bothofthemalreadySenators.OneisnamedMarianaDupree.Mygazesettlesonher,hernoseturnedupandhereyesheavywithsternness.Thirty-sevenyearsold,Senatorfortenyears.Shehatedmetheinstantshelaideyesonme.IlookawayfromherandtowardthebalconywherethesecondPrinceps-Electsits.SergeCarmichael,ajumpythirty-two-year-oldSenatorandgreatpoliticalmind,whowastednotimeshowingmethathedoesn’tappreciatemyyouthandinexperience.
SergeandMariana.MytworivalsforthePrincepstitle.Ifeelexhaustedjustthinkingaboutit.
Onabalconyseveraldozenyardsaway,sittingflankedbyhisguards,Andenseemscalm,reviewingsomethingwithoneofthesoldiers.He’swearingahandsomegraymilitarycoatwithbrightsilverbuttons,silverepaulettes,andsilversleeveinsignias.Heoccasionallyglancesdowntowardtheprisonersstandinginthechamber’scircle.Iwatchhimforamoment,admiringhisappearanceofcalm.
ThomasandCommanderJamesonaregoingtoreceivetheirsentencesforcrimesagainstthenation.
Thomaslookstidierthanusual—ifthat’spossible.Hishairisslickedback,andIcantellthathemust’veemptiedanentirecanofshoepolishontoeachofhisboots.HestandsatattentioninthecenterofthechamberandstaresstraightaheadwithanintensitythatwouldmakeanyRepubliccommanderproud.Iwonderwhat’sgoingthroughhismind.Ishepicturingthatnightinthehospitalalley,whenhemurderedmybrother?IshethinkingofthemanyconversationshehadwithMetias,themomentswhenhehadtakendownhisguard?OrthefatefulnightwhenhehadchosentobetrayMetiasinsteadofhelphim?
CommanderJameson,ontheotherhand,looksslightlydisheveled.Hercold,emotionlesseyesarefixedonme.Shehasbeenwatchingmeunflinchinglyforthepasttwelveminutes.Istarebackforamoment,tryingtoseesomehintofasoulinhereyes,butnothingexiststhereexceptforanicyhatred,anabsolutelackofconscience.
Ilookaway,takedeep,slowbreaths,andtrytofocusonsomethingelse.MythoughtsreturntoDay.
It’sbeen241dayssincehevisitedmyapartmentandbidmegood-bye.SometimesIwishDaycouldholdmeinhisarmsagainandkissmethewayhedidonthatlastnight,soclosethatwecouldbarelybreathe,hislipssoftagainstmine.ButthenItakebackthatwish.Thethoughtisuseless.Itremindsmeofloss,justlikehowsittinghereandlookingdownonthepeoplewhokilledmyfamilyremindsmeofallthethingsIusedtohave;itremindsmetooofmyguilt,ofallthethingsDayusedtohavethatItookfromhim.
Besides,Daywillprobablyneverwanttokissmeagain.NotafterhefindsoutwhyI’veaskedhimtoreturntoDenver.
Anden’slookinginmydirectionnow.WhenIcatchhisgaze,henodsonce,excuseshimselffromhisbalcony,andaminutelaterhestepsintomybalcony.Iriseand,alongwithmyguards,snaptoasalute.Andenwavesahandimpatiently.“Sit,please,”hesays.WhenI’verelaxedbackintomychair,hebendsdowntomyeyelevelandadds,“Howareyouholdingup,June?”
Ifighttheblushasitspreadsacrossmycheeks.AftereightmonthswithoutDayinmylife,IfindmyselfsmilingatAnden,enjoyingtheattention,occasionallyevenhopingforit.“Doingfine,thanks.I’vebeenlookingforwardtothisday.”
“Ofcourse.”Andennods.“Don’tworry—itwon’tbelongbeforebothofthemareoutofyourlifeforever.”Hegivesmyshoulderareassuringsqueeze.
Thenheleavesasswiftlyashearrived,vanishingwiththefaintclinkofmedalsandepaulettes,thenreappearingmomentslaterinhisownbalcony.
Iliftmyheadinavainattemptatbravery,knowingthatCommanderJameson’sicyeyesmuststillbeuponme.AseachoftheSenatorsrisestocastaloudhisvoteonherverdict,IholdmybreathandcarefullypushawayeachmemoryIhaveofhereyesstaringmedown,foldingthemintoaneatcompartmentatthebackofmymind.Thevotingseemstotakeforever,eventhoughtheSenatorsareallquicktosaywhattheythinkwillpleasetheElector.NoonehasthecouragetoriskcrossingAndenafterwatchingsomanyothersconvictedandexecuted.Bythetimemyturncomes,mythroatisparched.Iswallowafewtimes,thenspeakup.
“Guilty,”Isay,myvoiceclearandcalm.SergeandMarianacasttheirvotesafterme.Werunthroughanotherroundof
votingforThomas,andthenwe’redone.Threeminuteslater,aman(bald,witharound,wrinkledfaceandscarletfloor-lengthrobeshe’sclutchingwithhislefthand)hurriesintoAnden’sbalconyandgiveshimarushedbow.Andenleanstowardthemanandwhispersinhisear.Iwatchtheirinteractioninquietcuriosity,wonderingwhetherIcanpredictthefinalverdictbytheirgestures.Afterashortdeliberation,Andenandthemessengerbothnod.Thenthemessengerraiseshisvoicetotheentireassembly.
“WearenowreadytoannouncetheverdictsforCaptainThomasAlexanderBryantandCommanderNatashaJamesonofLosAngelesCityPatrolEight.AllriseforthegloriousElector!”
TheSenatorsandIstandwithauniformclatter,whileCommanderJamesonsimplyturnstofaceAndenwithalookofutterdisdain.ThomassnapstoasharpsaluteinAnden’sdirection.HeholdsthepositionasAndenstandsup,straightens,andputshishandsbehindhisback.There’samomentofsilenceaswewaitforhisfinalverdict,theonevotethatreallymatters.Ifightbackarisingurgetocough.MyeyesdartinstinctivelytotheotherPrinceps-Elects,somethingInowdoallthetime;Marianahasasatisfiedfrownonherface,whileSergejustlooksbored.OneofmyfistsclenchestightlyaroundthepaperclipringI’mworkingon.Ialreadyknowitwillleavedeepgroovesinmypalm.
“TheSenatorsoftheRepublichavesubmittedtheirindividualverdicts,”Andenannouncestothecourtroom,hiswordsbearingalltheformalityofatraditions-oldspeech.Imarvelatthewayhisvoicecansoundsosoft,yetcarrysowellatthesametime.“Ihavetakentheirjointdecisionintoaccount,andnowIgivemyown.”Andenpausestoturnhiseyesdowntowardwherebothofthem
arewaiting.Thomasisstillinfullsalute,stillstaringintentlyattheemptyairinfrontofhim.“CaptainThomasAlexanderBryantofLosAngelesCityPatrolEight,”hesays,“theRepublicofAmericafindsyouguilty...”
Theroomstayssilent.Ifighttokeepmybreathingeven.Thinkaboutsomething.Anything.WhataboutallthepoliticalbooksI’vebeenreadingthisweek?ItrytorecitesomeofthefactsI’velearned,butsuddenlyIcan’trememberanyofit.Mostuncharacteristic.
“...ofthedeathofCaptainMetiasIparisonthenightofNovemberthirtieth—ofthedeathofcivilianGraceWingwithoutthewarrantsnecessaryforexecution—ofthesingle-handedexecutionoftwelveprotestersinBatallaSquareontheafternoonof—”
Hisvoicecomesinandoutoftheblurofnoiseinmyhead.Ileanahandagainstmychair’sarmrest,letoutaslowbreath,andtrytopreventmyselffromswaying.Guilty.ThomashasbeenfoundguiltyofkillingbothmybrotherandDay’smother.Myhandsshake.
“—andtherebysentencedtodeathbyfiringsquadtwodaysfromtoday,atseventeenhundredhours.CommanderNatashaJamesonofLosAngelesCityPatrolEight,theRepublicofAmericafindsyouguilty...”
Anden’svoicefadesawayintoadull,unrecognizablehum.Everythingaroundmeseemssoslow,asifI’mlivingtooquicklyforitallandleavingtheworldbehind.
AyearagoI’dbeenstandingoutsideBatallaHallonadifferentsortofcourtstage,lookingonwithahugecrowdasajudgegaveDaytheexactsamesentence.NowDayisalive,andaRepubliccelebrity.Iopenmyeyesagain.CommanderJameson’slipsaresetinatightlineasAndenreadsoutherdeathpenalty.Thomaslooksexpressionless.Isheexpressionless?I’mtoofarawaytotell,buthiseyebrowsseemfurrowedintoastrangesortoftragedy.Ishouldfeelgoodaboutthis,Iremindmyself.BothDayandIshouldberejoicing.ThomaskilledMetias.HeshotDay’smotherincoldblood,withoutasecond’shesitation.
ButnowthecourtroomfallsawayandallIcanseearememoriesofThomasasateenager,backwhenheandMetiasandIusedtoeatporkedameinsideawarmfirst-floorstreetstand,withtherainpouringdownallaroundus.IrememberThomasshowingoffhisfirstassignedguntome.IevenrememberthetimeMetiasbroughtmetohisafternoondrills.IwastwelveandhadjustbegunmycoursesatDrakeforaweek—howinnocenteverythingseemedbackthen.Metiaspickedmeupaftermyclassesthatafternoon,rightontime,andweheadedovertotheTanagashisector,wherehewasrunninghispatrolthrough
drills.Icanstillfeelthewarmthofthesunbeatingdownonmyhair,stillseetheswooshofMetias’sblackhalfcape,thegleamofhissilverepaulettes,andstillhearthesharpclicksofhisshiningbootsonthecement.WhileIsettleddownonacornerbenchandturnedmycomponto(pretendto)dosomeadvancereading,Metiaslineduphissoldiersforinspection.Hepausedbeforeeachsoldiertopointoutflawsintheiruniforms.
“CadetRin,”hebarkedatoneofthenewersoldiers.Thesoldierjumpedatthesteelinmybrother’svoice,thenhungherheadinshameasMetiastappedthelonemedalpinnedonthecadet’scoat.“IfIworemymedallikethis,CommanderJamesonwouldstripmeofmytitle.Doyouwanttoberemovedfromthispatrol,soldier?”
“N-no,sir,”thecadetstammered.Metiaskepthisglovedhandstuckedbehindhisbackandmovedon.He
criticizedthreemoresoldiersbeforehereachedThomas,whostoodatattentionneartheendoftheline.Metiaslookedoverhisuniformwithastern,carefuleye.Ofcourse,Thomas’soutfitwasabsolutelyspotless—notasinglethreadoutofplace,everymedalandepaulettegroovepolishedtoabrightshine,bootssoflawlessthatIcouldprobablyseemyreflectioninthem.Alongpause.Iputmycompdownandleanedforwardtowatchmoreclosely.Finally,mybrothernodded.“Welldone,soldier,”hesaidtoThomas.“Keepupthegoodwork,andI’llseethatCommanderJamesonpromotesyoubeforetheendofthisyear.”
Thomas’sexpressionneverchanged,butIsawhimlifthischinwithpride.“Thankyou,sir,”hereplied.Metias’seyeslingeredonhimforasecond,andthenhemovedon.
Whenhefinallyfinishedinspectingeveryone,mybrotherturnedtofacehisentirepatrol.“Adisappointinginspection,soldiers,”hecalledouttothem.“You’reundermywatchnow,andthatmeansyou’reunderCommanderJameson’swatch.Sheexpectsahighercaliberfromthislot,soyou’ddowelltotryharder.Understood?”
Sharpsalutesansweredhim.“Yes,sir!”Metias’seyesreturnedtoThomas.Isawrespectonmybrother’sface,even
admiration.“IfeachofyoupaidattentiontodetailthewayCadetBryantdoes,we’dbethegreatestpatrolinthecountry.Lethimserveasanexampletoyouall.”Hejoinedtheminafinalsalute.“LonglivetheRepublic!”Thecadetsechoedhiminunison.
Thememoryslowlyfadesfrommythoughts,andMetias’sclearvoiceturnsintoaghost’swhisper,leavingmeweakandexhaustedinmysadness.
MetiashadalwaystalkedaboutThomas’sfixationonbeingtheperfectsoldier.IremembertheblinddevotionThomasgavetoCommanderJameson,thesameblinddevotionhenowgivestohisnewElector.ThenIseeThomasandmesittingacrossfromeachotherinaninterrogationroom—Iremembertheanguishinhiseyes.Howhe’dtoldmethathewantedtoprotectme.Whathappenedtothatshy,awkwardboyfromLosAngeles’spoorsectors,theboywhousedtotrainwithMetiaseveryafternoon?SomethingblursmyvisionandIquicklywipeahandacrossmyeyes.
Icouldbecompassionate.IcouldaskAndentosparehislifeandlethimliveouthisyearsinprison,andgivehimachancetoredeemhimself.ButinsteadIjuststandtherewithmyclosedlipsandunwaveringposture,myhearthardasstone.Metiaswouldbemoremercifulinmyposition.
ButIwasneverasgoodapersonasmybrother.“ThisconcludesthetrialforCaptainThomasAlexanderBryantand
CommanderNatashaJameson,”Andenfinishes.HeholdsahandoutinThomas’sdirectionandnodsonce.“Captain,doyouhaveanywordsfortheSenate?”
Thomasdoesn’tflinchintheslightest,doesn’tshowasinglehintoffearorremorseorangeronhisface.Iwatchhimclosely.Afteraheartbeat,heturnshiseyesuptowhereAndenstands,thenbowslow.“MygloriousElector,”herepliesinaclear,unwaveringvoice.“IhavedisgracedtheRepublicbyactinginawaythathasbothdispleasedanddisappointedyou.Ihumblyacceptmyverdict.”Herisesfromhisbow,thenreturnstohissalute.“LonglivetheRepublic.”
HeglancesupatmewhentheSenatorsallvoicetheiragreementwithAnden’sfinalverdict.Foraninstant,oureyesmeet.ThenIlookdown.Afterawhile,Ilookbackupandhe’sstaringstraightaheadagain.
AndenturnshisattentiontoCommanderJameson.“Commander,”hesays,extendinghisglovedhandinherdirection.Hischinliftsinaregalgesture.“DoyouhaveanywordsfortheSenate?”
Shedoesn’tflinchfromlookingattheyoungElector.Hereyesarecold,darkslates.Afterapause,shefinallynods.“Yes,Elector,”shesays,hertoneharshandmocking,astarkcontrasttoThomas’s.TheSenatorsandsoldiersshiftuneasily,butAndenraisesahandforsilence.“Idohavesomewordsforyou.Iwasnotthefirsttohopeforyourdeath,andIwon’tbethelast.YouaretheElector,butyouarestilljustaboy.Youdon’tknowwhoyouare.”Shenarrowshereyes...andsmiles.“ButIknow.Ihaveseenfarmorethanyouhave—I’vedrainedthebloodfromprisonerstwiceyourage,I’vekilledmenwithtwiceyour
strength,I’veleftprisonersshakingintheirbrokenbodieswhoprobablyhavetwiceyourcourage.Youthinkyou’rethiscountry’ssavior,don’tyou?ButIknowbetter.You’rejustyourfather’sboy,andlikefather,likeson.Hefailed,andsowillyou.”Hersmilewidens,butitnevertoucheshereyes.“Thiscountrywillgodowninflameswithyouatthehelm,andmyghostwillbelaughingatyouallthewayfromhell.”
Anden’sexpressionneverchanges.Hiseyesstayclearandunafraid,andinthismoment,Iamdrawntohimlikeabirdtoanopensky.Hemeetsherstarecoolly.“Thisconcludestoday’strial,”hereplies,hisvoiceechoingthroughoutthechamber.“Commander,Isuggestyousaveyourthreatsforthefiringsquad.”Thenhefoldshishandsbehindhisbackandnodsathissoldiers.“Removethemfrommysight.”
Idon’tknowhowAndencanshowsolittlefearinfrontofCommanderJameson.Ienvyit.BecauseasIwatchthesoldiersleadheraway,allIcanfeelisadeep,ice-coldpitofterror.Likeshe’snotdonewithusyet.Likeshe’swarningustowatchourbacks.
WETOUCHDOWNINDENVERONTHEMORNINGOFTHEEMERGENCYbanquet.Eventhewordsthemselvesmakemewanttolaugh:emergencybanquet?Tome,abanquetstillmeansafeast,andIdon’tseehowanyemergencyshouldbecauseforagoddymountainoffood,evenifitisforIndependenceDay.IsthathowtheseSenatorsdealwithcrises—bystuffingtheirfatfaces?
AfterEdenandIsettleintoatemporarygovernmentapartmentandEdendozesoff,exhaustedfromourearlymorningflight,IreluctantlyleavehimwithLucyinordertomeettheassistantassignedtoprepmefortonight’sevent.
“Ifanyonetriestoseehim,”IwhispertoLucyasEdensleeps,“foranyreason,pleasecallme.Ifanyonewants—”
Lucy,usedtomyparanoia,hushesmewithawaveofherhand.“Letmeputyourmindatease,Mr.Wing,”shereplies.Shepatsmycheek.“NoonewillseeEdenwhileyou’regone.Ipromise.I’llcallyouinaninstantifanythinghappens.”
Inod.MyeyeslingeronEdenasifhe’lldisappearifIblink.“Thanks.”Toattendaneventthisfancy,Ineedtodressthepart—andtodressthe
part,theRepublicassignsaSenator’sdaughtertotakemethroughthedowntowndistrict,wherethecity’smainshoppingareasareclustered.Shemeetsmerightwherethetrainstopsinthecenterofthedistrict.There’snomistakingwhosheis—she’sdeckedoutinastylishuniformfromheadtotoe,herlightbrowneyessetagainstdarkbrownskinandthickblackcurlsofhairtiedupintoaknottedbraid.Whensherecognizesme,sheflashesmeasmile.Icatchherlookingmeover,asifalreadycritiquingmyoutfit.“YoumustbeDay,”shesays,takingmyhand.“MynameisFalineFedelma,andtheElectorhasassignedmetobeyourguide.”Shepausestoraiseaneyebrowatmyclothes.“Wehavesomeworktodo.”
Ilookdownatmyoutfit.Trouserstuckedintoscuffed-upboots,a
rumpledcollarshirt,andanoldscarf.Would’vebeenconsideredluxuriousonthestreets.“Gladyouapprove,”Ireply.ButFalinejustlaughsandloopsanarmthroughmine.
Assheleadsmetoagovernmentclothingstreetthatspecializesineveningwear,Itakeinthecrowdsofpeoplerushingaroundus.Well-dressed,upper-classfolks.Atrioofstudentspass,gigglingaboutsomethingorother,dressedinpristinemilitaryuniformsandpolishedboots.Asweroundacornerandstepinsideashop,Irealizethatsoldiersarestandingguardupanddownthestreet.Alotofsoldiers.
“Arethereusuallythismanyguardsdowntown?”IaskFaline.Shejustshrugsandholdsupanoutfitagainstme,butIcanseethe
uneaseinhereyes.“No,”shereplies,“notreally.ButI’msureit’snothingforyoutoworryabout.”
Iletitdrop,butapulseofanxietyrushesthroughmymind.Denver’sbeefingupitsdefenses.Junehasn’texplainedwhysheneededmetoattendthisbanquetsobadly,badlyenoughtocontactmeherselfaftersomanymonthsofnoword.Whatthehellwouldsheneedfromme?WhatdoestheRepublicwantthistime?
IftheRepublicreallyisgoingbacktowar,thenmaybeIshouldfindawaytogetEdenoutofthecountry.Wehavethepowertoleavenow,afterall.Don’tknowwhat’skeepingmehere.
Hourslater,afterthesunhassetandfireworksfortheElector’sbirthdayhavealreadystartedgoingoffinrandompartsofthecity,ajeeptakesmefromourapartmenttowardColburnHall.Ipeerimpatientlyoutthewindow.Peopletravelupanddownthesidewalksindenseclusters.Tonighteachofthemisdressedinveryspecificclothing—mostlyred,withhintsofgoldmakeupandRepublicsealsstampedprominentlyhereandthere,onthebackofwhiteglovesoronthesleevesofmilitarycoats.IwonderhowmanyofthesefolksagreewiththeAndenisoursaviorgraffitiandhowmanysidewiththeAndenisahoaxmessage.Troopsmarchupanddownthestreets.AlltheJumboTronshaveimagesofenormousRepublicsealsondisplay,followedbylivefootagestreamingfromthefestivitieshappeninginsideColburnHall.ToAnden’scredit,there’sbeenasteadydeclineinRepublicpropagandalatelyontheJumboTrons.Stillnonewsabouttheoutsideworld,though.Guessyoucan’thaveeverything.
BythetimewereachthecobbledstepsofColburnHall,thestreetsareamessofcelebrations,throngsofpeople,andunsmilingguards.The
onlookersletoutahugecheerwhentheyseemestepoutofthejeep,aroarthatshakesmybonesandsendsaspasmofpainthroughthebackofmyhead.Iwavehesitantlyback.
Faline’swaitingformeatthebottomofthestepsthatleaduptoColburnHall.Thistimeshe’scladinagolddress,andgolddustshimmersonhereyelids.WeexchangebowsbeforeIfollowbehindher,lookingonasshemotionsforotherstoclearapath.“Youcleanupnicely,”shesays.“Someone’sgoingtobeverypleasedtoseeyou.”
“Idon’tthinktheElectorwillbeasexcitedasyouthink.”Shesmilesatmeoverhershoulder.“Iwasn’ttalkingabouttheElector.”Myheartjumpsatthat.Wemakeourwaythroughtheshoutingmob.Icranemyneckandstare
attheelaboratebeautyofColburnHall.Everythingglitters.TonightthepillarsareeachadornedwithtallscarletbannersdisplayingtheRepublicseal,andhangingrightinthemiddleofthepillarsandabovethehall’sentranceisthelargestportraitI’veeverseen.Anden’sgiantface.Falineguidesmedownthecorridor,whereSenatorsarecarryingonrandomconversationsandotherelitegueststalkandlaughwithoneanotherlikeeverythinginthecountryisgoinggreat.Butbehindtheircheerfulmasksaresignsofnervousness,flickeringeyes,andfurrowedbrows.They’vegottasensetheunusualnumberofsoldiersheretoo.Itrytomimictheproper,precisewaytheyhaveofwalkingandtalking,butstopwhenFalinenoticesmedoingit.
Wewanderthelush,opensettingofColburnHallforseveralminutes,lostintheseaofpoliticians.Thetasselsofmyepaulettesclinktogether.I’mlookingforher,eventhoughIdon’tknowwhatI’llsaywhen—if—Ifindher.HowwillIevencatchaglimpseofherinthemiddleofallthisgoddyluxury?Whereverweturn,Iseeanotherflurryofcolorfulgownsandpolishedsuits,fountainsandpianos,waiterscarryingskinnyglassesofchampagne,fancypeoplewearingtheirfakesmiles.Ifeelasuddensenseofclaustrophobia.
WhereamI?WhatamIdoinghere?Asifoncue,theinstantIaskmyselfthesequestionsistheinstantI
finallyseeher.Somehow,inthemidstofthesearistocratswhoblendintooneblurryportrait,myeyescatchhersilhouetteandpause.June.Thenoisearoundmefadesintoadullhum,quietanduninteresting,andallofmyattentionturnshelplesslytothegirlIthoughtI’dbeabletoface.
She’sdressedinafloor-lengthgownofdeepscarlet,andherthick,shininghairispiledhighonherheadindarkwaves,pinnedintoplacewithred,gem-studdedcombsthatcatchthelight.She’sthemostbeautifulgirlI’veeverseen,easilythemostbreathtakinggirlintheroom.She’sgrowntallerintheeightmonthssinceI’veseenher,andthewaysheholdsherself—poisedandgraceful,withherslender,swanlikeneckandherdeep,darkeyes—istheimageofperfection.
Almostperfection.Atcloserlook,Inoticesomethingthatmakesmefrown.There’sanairofrestraintabouther,somethinguncertainandunconfident.NotliketheJuneIknow.Asifpowerlessagainstthesight,IfindmyselfguidingbothFalineandmetowardher.Ionlystopwhenthepeoplearoundhermoveapart,revealingthemanstandingatherside.
It’sAnden.Ofcourse,Ishouldn’tbesurprised.Offtotheside,severalwell-dressedgirlsaretryinginvaintocatchhisattention,butheseemsfocusedonlyonJune.Iwatchasheleansintowhispersomethinginherear,thencontinueshisrelaxedconversationwithherandseveralothers.
WhenIturnsilentlyaway,Falinefrownsatmysuddenshift.“Areyouokay?”sheasks.
Iattemptareassuringsmile.“Oh,absolutely.Don’tworry.”Ifeelsooutofplaceamongthesearistocrats,withtheirbankaccountsandposhmanners.NomatterhowmuchmoneytheRepublicthrowsatme,Iwillforeverbetheboyfromthestreets.
AndI’dforgottenthataboyfromthestreetsisnomatchforthefuturePrinceps.
1935HOURS.COLBURNHALL,MAINBALLROOM.68°F.
ITHINKISEEDAYINTHECROWD.AFLASHOFWHITE-
GOLDHAIR,ofbrightblueeyes.MyattentionsuddenlybreaksfrommyconversationwithAndenandtheotherPrinceps-Elects,andIcranemyneck,hopingtogetabetterlook—buthe’sgoneagain,ifhewaseverthere.Disappointed,Ireturnmygazetotheothersandgivethemmywell-rehearsedsmile.WillDayshowuptonight?SurelyAnden’smenwouldhavealertedusifDayhadrefusedtogetontheprivatejetsentforhimthismorning.Buthe’dsoundedsodistantandawkwardoverthemikethatnight,perhapshejustdecideditwasn’tworthcomingouthereafterall.Maybehehatesme,nowthatwe’vehadenoughtimeapartforhimtothinkclearlyaboutourfriendship.IscanthecrowdagainwhentheotherPrinceps-ElectsarelaughingatAnden’sjokes.
AfeelinginmystomachtellsmeDaywillbehere.ButIamhardlyapersonwhoreliesongutinstinct.Iabsentlytouchthejewelsinmyhair,makingsurethey’reallstillintherightplaces.They’renotthemostcomfortablethingsI’veeverworn,butthehairdresserhadgaspedathowtherubiesstoodoutagainstmydarklocks,andthatreactionwasenoughformetothinkthey’reworththetrouble.I’mnotsurewhyIbotheredtolooksonicefortonight.ItisIndependenceDay,Isuppose,andtheoccasionisalargeone.
“MissIparisisasprecociousasweallassumedshewouldbe,”Anden’ssayingtotheSenatorsnow,turninghissmileonme.Hisapparenthappinessisallforshow,ofcourse.I’veshadowedAndenforlongenoughnowtoknowwhenheistense,andtonightthenervousnessreflectsoffeverygesturehemakes.I’mnervoustoo.Amonthfromnow,theRepublicmighthaveColoniesflagsflyingoverhercities.“Hertutorssaythey’veneverseenastudentprogresssorapidlythroughherpoliticaltexts.”
“Thankyou,Elector,”Ireplyautomaticallytohiscompliment.TheSenatorsbothchuckle,butunderneaththeirjollyexpressionsliesthelingeringresentmenttheyhaveagainstme,thischildwhohasbeentappedbytheElectortopotentiallybecometheirleaderoneday.Marianagivesmeadiplomatic,albeitstern,nod,butSergedoesn’tlooktoopleasedwiththewayAndensinglesmeout.IignorethedarkscowlthattheSenatorcastsinmydirection.Hisscowlsusedtobotherme—nowI’mjusttiredofthem.
“Ah,well.”SenatorTanakaofCaliforniatugsonthecollarofhismilitaryjacketandexchangesalookwithhiswife.“That’swonderfulnews,Elector.Ofcourse,I’msurethetutorsalsoknowhowmuchofaSenator’sjobislearnedoutsideoftextsandfromyearsofexperienceintheSenatechamber.LikeourdearSenatorCarmichaelhere.”HepausestonodgraciouslyatSerge,whopuffsup.
Andenwavesoffhisconcern.“Ofcourse,”heechoes.“Allingoodtime,Senator.”
Besideme,Marianasighs,leansover,andtiltsherchinatSerge.“Ifyoustareathisheadlongenough,itmightsproutwingsandtakeflight,”shemutters.
Ismileatthat.Theysteeroffthetopicofmeandontothetopicofhowtobettersort
studentsintohighschoolsnowthattheTrialsarediscontinued.Thepoliticalchattergratesonmynerves.IstartscanningthecrowdagainforDay.Aftermorefutilesearching,IfinallyputahandonAnden’sarmandleanovertowhisper,“Excuseme.I’llberightback.”Henodsinreturn.WhenIturnawayandstartblendinginwiththecrowd,Icanfeelhisstarelingeringonme.
Ispendseveralminuteswalkingtheballroominvain,greetingvariousSenatorsandtheirfamiliesasIgo.WhereisDay?Itrytohearsnatchesofconversations,ornoticewhereclustersofpeoplemightbegathering.Dayisacelebrity.Hemustbeattractingattentionifhealreadyarrived.I’mabouttomakemywayacrosstheotherhalfoftheballroomwhenI’minterruptedbytheloudspeakers.Thepledge.Isigh,thenturnbacktowhereAndenhasalreadytakenhisplaceonthefrontstage,flankedonbothsidesbysoldiersholdingupRepublicflags.
“IpledgeallegiancetotheflagoftheRepublicofAmerica...”Day.Thereheis.He’sstandingaboutfiftyfeetaway,hisbackpartiallyturnedtomesothatI
canonlyseeatinysliverofhisprofile,hishairlooseandthickandperfectlystraight,andonhisarmisagirlinashininggolddress.WhenIobservehim
moreclosely,Inoticethathismouthisn’tmovingatall.Hestayssilentthroughouttheentirepledge.IturnmyattentionbacktothefrontasapplausefillsthechamberandAndenbeginshispreparedspeech.Fromthecornerofmyeye,IseeDayturntolookoverhisshoulder.Myhandstrembleatthismomentaryglimpseofhisface—haveIreallyforgottenhowbeautifulheis,howhiseyesreflectsomethingwildanduntamed,freeeveninthemidstofallthisorderandelegance?
Whenthespeechends,IheadstraightinDay’sdirection.He’sdressedinaperfectlytailoredblackmilitaryjacketandsuit.Ishealsothinner?HelookstohavelostagoodtenpoundssincethelasttimeIsawhim.He’sbeenillrecently.AsIgetcloser,Daycatchessightofmeandpausesinhisconversationwithhisdate.Hiseyeswidenalittle.Icanfeeltheheatrisingonmycheeks,butforceitdown.Thiswillbeourfirstface-to-facemeetinginmonths,andIrefusetomakeafoolofmyself.
Istopafewfeetaway.Myeyeswandertohisdate,agirlwhomIrecognizeasFaline,theeighteen-year-olddaughterofSenatorFedelma.
FalineandIexchangeaquicknod.Shegrins.“Hi,June,”shesays.“Youlookgorgeoustonight.”
Shemakesagenuinesmileescapefromme,areliefafterallthepracticedsmilesI’vebeengivingtheotherPrinceps-Elects.“Sodoyou,”Ireply.
Falinedoesn’twasteasingleawkwardsecond—shecatchestheslightblushonmycheeksandcurtsiestobothofus.Thensheheadsbackintothecrowd,leavingDayandmealoneintheseaofpeople.
Forasecond,wejuststareateachother.Ibreakthesilencebeforeitstretchesonfortoolong.“Hi,”Isay.Itakeinhisface,refreshingmymemorywitheverylittledetail.“It’sgoodtoseeyou.”
Daysmilesbackandbows,buthiseyesneverleaveme.Thewayhestaressendsriversofheatracingthroughmychest.“Thanksfortheinvite.”Hearinghisvoiceinpersonagain...Itakeadeepbreath,remindingmyselfofwhyIinvitedhimhere.Hiseyesdanceacrossmyfaceandtomydress—heseemsreadytocommentonit,butthendecidesagainstitandwaveshishandattheroom.“Nicelittlepartyyouhavehere.”
“It’sneverquiteasfunasitlooks,”Ireplyinahushedvoice,sothattheotherscan’thearme.“IthinksomeoftheseSenatorsmightburstfrombeingforcedtotalktopeopletheydon’tlike.”
MyteasingbringsasmallsmileofrelieftoDay’slips.“GladI’mnottheonlyunhappyone.”
Andenhasalreadyleftthestage,andDay’scommentremindsmethatIshouldbeescortinghimtothebanquetsoon.Thethoughtsobersme.“It’salmosttime,”Isay,motioningforDaytofollowme.“Thebanquetisveryprivate.You,me,theotherPrinceps-Elects,andtheElector.”
“What’sgoingon?”Dayasksashefallsintostepbesideme.Hisarmbrushesonceagainstmine,sendingshiversdancingacrossmyskin.Istruggletocatchmybreath.Focus,June.“Youweren’texactlyspecificinourlastconversation.IhopeI’mputtingupwithallofthesesnobbyCongresstrotsforagoodreason.”
Ican’thelpmyamusementatthewayDayreferstotheSenators.“You’llfindoutwhenwegetthere.Andkeepyourinsultstoaminimum.”Ilookawayfromhimandtowardthesmallcorridorwe’reheadingfor,JasperChamber,adiscreethallbranchingawayfromthemainballroom.
“I’mnotgoingtolikethis,amI?”Daymuttersclosetomyear.Guiltrisesinme.“Probablynot.”Wesettledownintheprivatebanquetroom(asmall,rectangularcherrywood
tablewithsevenseats),andafterawhile,SergeandMarianafilterin.TheyeachtakeaseatoneithersideofAnden’sreservedchair.IstaynexttoDay,asAndenhadwished.Twoserversgoaroundthetable,placingdaintyplatesofwatermelonandporksaladbeforeeachseat.SergeandMarianamakepolitesmalltalk,butneitherDaynorIsaysanotherword.Nowandthen,Imanagetostealaglanceathim.He’seyeingthelinesofforks,spoons,andknivesathisplacesettingwithanuncomfortablefrown,tryingtofigurethemoutwithoutaskingforhelp.Oh,Day.Idon’tknowwhythisgivesmeapainful,flutteringfeelinginmystomach,orwhyitpullsmyhearttohim.I’dforgottenhowhislonglashescatchthelight.
“What’sthis?”hewhisperstome,holdinguponeofhisutensils.“Abutterknife.”Dayscowlsatit,runningafingeralongitsblunt,roundededge.“This,”he
mutters,“isnotaknife.”Besidehim,Sergenoticeshishesitationtoo.“Itakeityou’renotaccustomed
toforksandkniveswhereyou’refrom?”hesayscoollytohim.Daystiffens,buthedoesn’tmissabeat.Hegrabsalargercarvingknife,
purposelydisturbinghisplace’scarefulsetup,andgesturescasuallywithit.BothSergeandMarianaedgeawayfromthetable.“WhereIcomefrom,we’remoreaboutefficiency,”hereplies.“Aknifelikethis’llskewerfood,smearbutter,andslitthroatsallatthesametime.”
OfcourseDay’sneverslitathroatinhislife—butSergedoesn’tknowthat.Hesniffsindisdainatthereply,buttheblooddrainsfromhisface.IhavetopretendtocoughsothatIdon’tlaughatDay’smock-seriousexpression.Forthosewhodon’tknowhimwell,hiswordsactuallysoundintimidating.
IalsonoticesomethingIhadn’tearlier—Daylookspale.MuchpalerthanIremember.Myamusementwavers.IshisrecentillnesssomethingmoreseriousthanI’dfirstassumed?
Andenarrivesintheroomaminutelater,causingtheusualstirasweallriseforhim,andgesturesforallofustotakeourseats.He’saccompaniedbyfoursoldiers,oneofwhomclosesthedoorbehindhimandfinallysealsusintoourprivatemeal.
“Day,”Andengreets.HepausestonodcourteouslyinDay’sdirection.Daylooksunhappywiththeattention,butmanagestoreturnthegesture.“It’sapleasuretoseeyouagain,ifunderunfortunatecircumstances.”
“Veryunfortunate,”Daysaysinreturn.Ishiftuncomfortablyinmyseat,tryingtoimagineamoreawkwardscenariothanthisdinnersetup.
Andenletsthestiffreplyslide.“Letmecatchyouuponthecurrentsituation.”Heputshisforkdown.“Thepeacetreatywe’vebeenworkingonwiththeColoniesisnowshelved.AvirushashittheColonies’southernwarfrontcitieshard.”
Besideme,Daycrosseshisarmsandregardsthecrowdwithasuspiciousexpressiononhisface,butAndengoeson.“Theybelievethisviruswascausedbyus,andtheyaredemandingthatwesendthemacureifwewanttocontinuepeacetalks.”Sergeclearshisthroatandstartstosaysomething,butAndenholdsupahandforsilence.Hethengoesontospillallthedetails—howtheColoniesfirstsentaharshmessagetotheRepublic,demandinginfoontheviruswreakinghavocamongsttheirtroops,hastilywithdrawingtheiraffectedsoldiers,andthenbroadcastingtheirultimatumtothewarfrontgenerals,warningofdireconsequencesifacurewasnotdeliveredimmediately.
Daylistenstoallofitwithoutmovingamuscleorutteringaword.Oneofhishandsgripstheedgeofthetabletightlyenoughtoturnhisknuckleswhite.Iwonderwhetherhe’sguessedwherethisisgoingandwhatallthishastodowithhim,buthejustwaitsuntilAndenhasfinished.
Sergeleansbackinhischairandfrowns.“IftheColonieswanttoplaygameswithourpeaceoffer,”hescoffs,“thenletthem.We’vebeenatwarlongenough—wecanhandlesomemore.”
“No,wecan’t,”Marianainterjects.“DoyouhonestlythinktheUnited
Nationswillacceptthenewsthatourpeacetreatyfellapart?”“DotheColonieshaveanyevidencethatwecausedit?Oraretheseempty
accusations?”“Exactly.Iftheythinkwe’regoingto—”Daysuddenlyspeaksup,hisfaceturnedtowardAnden.“Let’sstopdragging
ourfeet,”hesays.“TellmewhyI’mhere.”He’snotloud,buttheominoustoneofhisvoicehushestheconversationintheroom.Andenreturnshislookwithanequallygraveone.Hetakesadeepbreath.
“Day,Ibelievethisistheresultofoneofmyfather’sbioweapons—andthattheviruscamefromyourbrotherEden’sblood.”
Day’seyesnarrow.“And?”Andenseemsreluctanttocontinue.“There’smorethanonereasonwhyI
didn’twantallmySenatorsinherewithus.”Heleansforward,lowershisvoice,andgivesDayahumbledlook.“Idon’twanttohearanyoneelserightnow.Iwanttohearyou.Youaretheheartofthepeople,Day—youalwayshavebeen.You’vegiveneverythingyouhaveinordertoprotectthem.”Daystiffensbesideme,butAndengoeson.“Ifearforthepeople.Iworryabouttheirsafety,thatwe’llbehandingthemovertotheenemyjustaswe’restartingtoputthepiecestogether.”Hegrowsquieter.“Ineedtomakesomedifficultdecisions.”
Dayraisesaneyebrow.“Whatkindofdecisions?”“TheColoniesaredesperateforacure.Theywilldestroyustogetit,
everythingbothyouandIcareabout.TheonlychancewehaveoffindingoneistotakeEdenintotemporary—”
Daypusheshischairfromthetableandrises.“No,”hesays.Hisvoiceisflatandicy,butIremembermyold,heatedargumentwithDaywellenoughtorecognizethedeepfurybeneathhiscalmness.Withoutanotherword,heturnsfromthegroupandwalksaway.
Sergestartstogetup,nodoubttoshoutatDayabouthisrudeness,butAndenshootshimawarningstareandmotionsforhimtosit.ThenAndenturnstomewithalookthatsays,Talktohim.Please.
IwatchDay’sretreatingfigure.Hehaseveryrighttorefuse,everyrighttohateusforaskingthisofhim.ButIstillfindmyselfrisingfrommyownchair,steppingawayfromthebanquettable,andhurryinginhisdirection.
“Day,wait,”Icallout.Mywordssendmeapainfulreminderofthelasttimewe’dbeeninthesameroomtogether,whenwehadsaidourgood-byes.
Weheadintothesmallercorridorthatleadsouttothemainballroom.Daydoesn’tturnaround,butheseemstoslowhisstepsdowninanattempttoletme
catchup.WhenIfinallyreachhim,Itakeadeepbreath.“Look,Iknow—”Daypressesafingertohislips,silencingme,andthengrabsmyhand.His
skiniswarmthroughthefabricofhisglove.ThefeelofhisfingersaroundmineissuchashockafterallthesemonthsthatIcan’tremembertherestofmysentence—everythingabouthim,histouch,hiscloseness,feelsright.“Let’stalkinprivate,”hewhispers.
Weheadinsideoneofthedoorsliningthecorridor,thencloseitbehindusandturnthelock.Myeyesdoacategoricalsweepoftheroom(privatediningchamber,nolightson,oneroundtableandtwelvechairsallcoveredinwhitecloths,andasinglelarge,archedwindowatthebackwallthatletsinastreamofmoonlight).Day’shairtransformsinheretoasilversheet.Heturnshisgazebacktomenow.
Isitmyimagination,ordoeshelookasflusteredasIamaboutourbriefhandhold?Ifeelthesuddentightnessofthedress’swaist,theairhittingmyexposedshouldersandcollarbone,theheavinessofthefabricandthejewelsinmyhair.Day’seyeslingerontherubynecklacesittingatthesmallofmythroat.Hispartinggifttome.Hischeeksturnalittlepinkinthedarkness.“So,”hesays,“isthisseriouslywhyI’mhere?”
Despitetheangerinhisvoice,hisdirectnessislikeacool,sweetbreezeafterallthesemonthsofcalculatedpoliticaltalk.Iwanttobreatheitin.“TheColoniesrefusetoacceptanyotherterms,”Ireply.“They’reconvincedthatwehaveacureforthevirus,andtheonlyonewhomightcarrythecureisEden.TheRepublic’salreadyrunningtestsonotherformer...experiments...toseewhethertheycanfindanything.”
Daycringes,thenfoldshisarmsinfrontofhischestandregardsmewithascowl.“Alreadyrunningtests,”hemutterstohimself,lookingofftowardthemoonlitwindows.“SorryIcan’tbemoreenthusiasticaboutthisidea,”headdsdryly.
Iclosemyeyesforamoment.“Wedon’thavemuchtime,”Iadmit.“Everydaywedon’thandoveracurefurtherangerstheColonies.”
“Andwhathappensifwedon’tgivethemanything?”“Youknowwhathappens.War.”AnoteoffearappearsinDay’seyes,buthestillshrugs.“TheRepublicand
theColonieshavebeenatwarforever.Howwillthisbeanydifferent?”“Thistimethey’llwin,”Iwhisper.“Theyhaveastrongally.Theyknow
we’revulnerableduringourtransitiontoayoungnewElector.Ifwecan’thandoverthiscure,wedon’tstandachance.”Inarrowmyeyes.“Don’tyou
rememberwhatwesawwhenwewenttotheColonies?”Daypausesforaheartbeat.Eventhoughhedoesn’tsayitaloud,Icanseethe
conflictwrittenclearlyonhisface.Finally,hesighsandtightenshislipsinanger.“YouthinkI’mgoingtolettheRepublictakeEdenagain?IftheElectorbelievesthat,thenIreallydidmakeamistakethrowingmysupportbehindhim.Ididn’thelphimoutjusttowatchhimtossEdenbackintoalab.”
“I’msorry,”Isay.NousetryingtoconvincehimofhowmuchAndenalsohatesthesituation.“Heshouldn’thaveaskedyoulikethis.”
“Heputyouuptothis,didn’the?Ibetyouresistedtoo,yeah?Youknowhowthissounds.”Histoneturnsmoreexasperated.“Youknewwhatmyanswerwouldbe.Why’dyoustillsendforme?”
Ilookintohiseyesandsaythefirstthingthatcomestomind.“BecauseIwantedtoseeyou.Isn’tthatwhyyouagreedtoo?”
Thismakeshimpauseforamoment.Thenhewhirlsaround,rakesbothhandsthroughhishair,andsighs.“Whatdoyouthink,then?Tellmethetruth.Whatwouldyouaskmetodo,ifyoufeltabsolutelynopressurefromanyoneelseinthiscountry?”
Ituckastrandofhairbehindmyear.Steelyourself,June.“I’d...,”Ibegin,thenhesitate.WhatwouldIsay?Logically,IagreewithAnden’sassessment.IftheColoniesdowhattheythreaten,iftheyattackuswiththefullforceofasuperpower’shelp,thenmanyinnocentliveswillbelostunlesswetakeariskwithonelife.Thereissimplynoeasierchoice.Besides,wecouldensurethatEdenwouldbetreatedaswellaspossible,withthebestdoctorsandthemostphysicalcomfort.Daycouldbepresentduringallofthepotentialprocedures—hecouldseeexactlywhatwashappening.ButhowdoIexplainthattoaboywhohasalreadylosthisentirefamily,whosawhisbrotherexperimentedonbefore,whohasbeenexperimentedonhimself?ThisisthepartthatAndendoesn’tunderstandaswellasIdo,eventhoughheknowsDay’spastonpaper—hestilldoesn’tknowDay,hasn’ttraveledwithhimandwitnessedthesufferinghe’sgonethrough.Thequestionistoocomplicatedtobeansweredwithsimplelogic.
Mostimportantly—Anden’sunabletoguaranteehisbrother’ssafety.Everythingwillcomewitharisk,andIknowwithdeadcertaintythatnothingintheworldcouldpossiblymakeDaytakethisrisk.
Daymustseethefrustrationdancingacrossmyface,becausehesoftensandstepscloser.Icanpracticallyfeeltheheatcomingoffhim,thewarmthofhisnearnessthatturnsmybreathshallow.“Icameheretonightforyou,”hesaysina
lowvoice.“There’snothingintheworldtheycould’vesaidtoconvinceme,exceptthatyouwantedmehere.AndIcan’tturndownarequestfromyou.Theytoldmeyouhadpersonally...”Heswallows.There’safamiliarwarofemotionsinhisexpressionthatleavesmewithasickfeeling—emotionsthatIknowaredesire,forwhatweoncehad,andanguish,fordesiringagirlwhodestroyedhisfamily.“It’ssogoodtoseeyou,June.”
Hesaysitlikehe’slettinggoofahugeburdenthat’sbeenholdinghimdown.Iwonderwhetherhecanhearmyheartpoundingfranticallyagainstmyribs.WhenIspeak,though,Imanagetokeepmyvoicesteadyandcalm.“Areyouokay?”Iask.“Youlookpale.”
Theweightreturnstohiseyes,andhisbriefmomentofintimacyfadesashestepsawayandfiddleswiththeedgeofhisgloves.He’salwayshatedgloves,Iremember.“I’vehadabadfluforthelastcoupleofweeks,”hereplies,flashingmeaquickgrin.“Gettingbetternow,though.”(Eyesflickeringsubtlytotheside,scratchingtheedgeofhisear,stiffnessofhislimbs,timingslightlyoffbetweenhiswordsandhissmile.)Itiltmyheadathimandfrown.
“You’resuchabadliar,Day,”Isay.“Youmightaswelltellmewhat’sonyourmind.”
“There’snothingtotell,”herepliesautomatically.Thistimehepointshiseyesatthefloorandputshishandsinhispockets.“IfIseemoff,it’sbecauseI’mworriedaboutEden.He’sgottenayearoftreatmentforhiseyesandhestillcan’tseemuch.Thedoctorstellmethathemayneedsomespecialcontacts,andeventhen,hemightnevergethisfulleyesightback.”
Icantellthisisn’ttherealreasonbehindDay’sexhaustedappearance,butheknowsthatbringingEden’srecoveryintothisconversationwillstopanyquestionsfromme.Well,ifhereallydoesn’twanttotellme,thenIwon’tpressurehim.Iclearmythroatawkwardly.“That’sterrible,”Iwhisper.“I’msosorrytohearit.Ishedoingokay,otherwise?”
Daynods.Wefallbackintoourmoonlitsilence.Ican’thelprecallingthelasttimewewerealoneinaroomtogether,whenhetookmyfaceinhishands,whenhistearswerefallingagainstmycheeks.IrememberthewayhewhisperedI’msorryagainstmylips.Now,aswestandthreefeetapartandstareateachother,Ifeelthefulldistancethatcomeswithspendingsomuchtimeapart,amomentfilledwiththeelectricityofafirstmeetingandtheuncertaintyofstrangers.
Dayleanstowardme,asifdrawnbysomeinvisibleforce.Thetragicpleaonhisfacetwistsmystomachintopainfulknots.Pleasedon’taskthisofme,hiseyesbeg.Pleasedon’taskmetogiveupmybrother.Iwoulddoanythingelsefor
you.Justnotthis.“June,I...,”hewhispers.Hisvoicethreatenstobreakwithalltheheartachehe’skeepingbottledinside.
Heneverfinishesthatsentence.Instead,hesighsandbowshishead.“Ican’tagreetoyourElector’sterms,”hesaysinasombertone.“I’mnotgoingtohandmybrothertotheRepublicasanotherexperiment.TellhimI’llworkwithhimtofindanothersolution.Iunderstandhowseriousthisallis—Idon’twanttoseetheRepublicfall.I’dbegladtohelpandfiguresomethingelseout.ButEdenstaysoutofthis.”
Andthat’stheendofourconversation.Daynodsatmeinfarewell,lingersforafewlastseconds,andthenstepstowardthedoor.Ileanagainstthewallinsuddenexhaustion.Withouthimnearby,there’salackofenergy,adullingofcolor,graymoonlightwheremomentsearliertherehadbeensilver.Istudyhispalenessafinaltime,analyzinghimfromthecornerofmyeye.Heavoidsmygaze.Somethingiswrong,andherefusestotellmewhatitis.
WhatamImissinghere?Hepullsthedooropen.Hisexpressionhardensrightbeforehestepsoutof
theroom.“AndifforsomereasontheRepublictriestotakeEdenbyforce,I’llturnthepeopleagainstAndensofastthatarevolutionwillbeonhimbeforehecanblink.”
SERIOUSLY,ISHOULDBEUSEDTOMYNIGHTMARESBYNOW.ThistimeIdreamaboutmeandEdenataSanFranciscohospital.A
doctor’sfittingEdenwithanewpairofglasses.Weendupatahospitalatleastonceaweek,sothattheycanmonitorhowEden’seyesareslowlyadjustingtomedication,butthisisthefirsttimeIseethedoctorsmileencouraginglyatmybrother.Mustbeagoodsign,yeah?
Edenturnstome,grins,andpuffshischestoutinanexaggeratedgesture.Ihavetolaugh.“Howdoesitlook?”heasksme,fiddlingwithhishugenewframes.Hiseyesstillhavethatweird,palepurplecolor,andhecan’tfocusonme,butInoticethathecannowmakeoutthingslikethewallsaroundhimandthelightcominginfromthewindows.Myheartjumpsatthesight.Progress.
“Youlooklikeaneleven-year-oldowl,”Ireply,walkingovertorufflehishair.Hegigglesandbatsmyhandaway.
Aswesittogetherintheoffice,waitingforpaperwork,IwatchEdenbusilyfoldingpiecesofpapertogetherintosomekindofelaboratedesign.Hehastohunchclosetothepaperstoseewhathe’sdoing,hisbrokeneyesalmostcrossedwithconcentration,hisfingersnimbleanddeliberate.Iswear,thiskid’salwaysmakingsomethingorother.
“Whatisit?”Iaskhimafterawhile.He’sconcentratingtoohardtoanswermerightaway.Finally,whenhe
tucksonelastpapertriangleintothedesign,heholdsitupandgivesmethatcheekygrin.“Here,”hesays,pointingtowhatlookslikeapaperleafstickingoutoftheballofpaper.“Pullthis.”
Idoashesays.Tomyamazement,thedesigntransformsintoanelaborate3-Dpaperrose.Ismilebackathiminmydream.“Prettyimpressive.”
Edentakeshispaperdesignback.Inthatinstant,analarmblaresthroughoutthehospital.Edendropsthe
paperflowerandjumpstohisfeet.Hisblindeyesarewideopeninterror.Iglancetothehospital’swindows,wheredoctorsandnurseshavegathered.OutalongthehorizonofSanFrancisco,arowofColoniesairshipssailcloserandclosertous.Thecitybelowthemburnsfromadozenfires.
Thealarmdeafensme.IgrabEden’shandandrushusoutoftheroom.“Wehavetogetoutofhere,”Ishout.Whenhestumbles,unabletoseewherewe’regoing,Ihoisthimontomyback.Peoplerushallaroundus.
Ireachthestairwell—andthere,alineofRepublicsoldiersstopsus.OneofthempullsEdenoffmyback.Hescreams,kickingoutatpeoplehecan’tsee.Istruggletofreemyselffromthesoldiers,buttheirgripisironclad,andmylimbsfeellikethey’resinkingintodeepmud.Weneedhim,someunrecognizablevoicewhispersintomyear.Hecansaveusall.
Iscreamoutloud,butnoonecanhearme.Offinthedistance,theColoniesairshipsaimatthehospital.Glassshattersallaroundus.Ifeeltheheatoffire.OnthefloorliesEden’spaperflower,itsedgescrispingfromflames.Icannolongerseemybrother.
He’sgone.He’sdead.
***
Apoundingheadachepullsmefrommysleep.Thesoldiersvanish—thealarmsilences—thechaosofthehospitaldisappearsintothedarkbluehueofourbedroom.ItrytotakeadeepbreathandlookaroundforEden,buttheheadachestabsintothebackofmyskulllikeanicepick,andIboltuprightwithagaspofpain.NowIrememberwhereIreallyam.I’minatemporaryapartmentbackinDenver,themorningafterseeingJune.Onthebedroomdressersitsmyusualtransmissionbox,thestationstilltunedtooneoftheairwavesIthoughtthePatriotsmight’vebeenusing.
“Daniel?”Inthebednexttomine,Edenstirs.Reliefhitsme,eveninthemidstofmyagony.Justanightmare.Likealways.Justanightmare.“Areyouokay?”Ittakesmeasecondtorealizethatdawnhasn’tquitearrived—theroomstilllooksdark,andallIcanseeismybrother’ssilhouetteagainstthebluishblackofthenight.
Idon’tanswerrightaway.Instead,Iswingmylegsoverthesideofthebedtofacehimandclutchmyheadinbothhands.Anotherjoltofpainhitsthebaseofmybrain.“Getmymedicine,”ImuttertoEden.
“ShouldIgetLucy?”
“No.Don’twakeher,”Ireply.Lucy’salreadyhadtwosleeplessnightsbecauseofme.“Medicine.”
Thepainmakesmeruderthanusual,butEdenjumpsoutofbedbeforeIcanapologize.Heimmediatelystartsfumblingforthebottleofgreenpillsthatalwayssitsonthedresserbetweenourbeds.Hegrabsitandholdsoutthebottleinmygeneraldirection.
“Thanks.”Itakeitfromhim,pourthreepillsintomypalmwithashakinghand,andtrytoswallowthem.Throat’stoodry.Ipushmyselfupfromthebedandstaggertowardthekitchen.Behindme,Edenuttersanother“Areyousureyou’reokay?”butthepaininmyheadissostrongthatIcanhardlyhearhim.Icanhardlyevensee.
Ireachthekitchensinkandturnthefauceton,cupsomewaterintomyhands,anddrinkitdownwiththemedicine.ThenIslidedowntothefloorinthedarkness,restingmybackagainstthecoldmetaloftherefrigeratordoor.
It’sokay,Iconsolemyself.Myheadacheshadworsenedoverthepastyear,butthedoctorsassuredmethattheseattacksshouldlastnolongerthanahalfhoureachtime.Ofcourse,theyalsotoldmethatifanyofthemfeltunusuallysevere,Ishouldberushedtotheemergencyroomrightaway.SoeverytimeIgetone,IwonderifI’mexperiencingatypicalday—orthelastdayofmylife.
Afewminuteslater,Edenstumblesintothekitchenwithhiswalkingmeteron,thedevicebeepingwheneverhegetstooclosetoawall.“MaybeweshouldaskLucytocallthedoctors,”hewhispers.
Idon’tknowwhy,butthesightofEdenfeelinghiswaythroughthekitchensendsmeintoafitoflow,uncontrollablelaughter.“Man,lookatus,”Ireply.Mylaughterturnsintocoughs.“Whatateam,yeah?”
Edenfindsmebyplacingatentativehandonmyhead.Hesitsbesidemewithhislegscrossedandgivesmeawrygrin.“Hey—withyourmetallegandhalfabrain,andmyfourleftoversenses,wealmostmakeawholeperson.”
Ilaughharder,butitmakesthepainofmyheadachethatmuchworse.“Whendidyouturnsosarcastic,littleboy?”Igivehimanaffectionateshove.
Westayhunchedinsilenceforthenexthourastheheadachegoesonandon.I’mnowwrithinginpain.Sweatsoaksmywhitecollarshirtandtearsstreakmyface.Edensitsnexttomeandgripsmyhandinhissmall
ones.“Trynottothinkaboutit,”heurgesunderhisbreath,squintingatmewithhispalepurpleeyes.Hepusheshisblack-rimmedglassesfartheruphisnose.Bitsandpiecesofmynightmarecomebacktome,imagesofhishandgettingyankedoutofmine.Soundsofhisscreams.Isqueezehishandsotightlythathewinces.“Don’tforgettobreathe.Thedoctoralwayssaystakingdeepbreathsissupposedtohelp,right?Breathein,breatheout.”
Iclosemyeyesandtrytofollowmylittlebrother’scommands,butit’shardtohearhimatallthroughthepoundingofmyheadache.Thepainisexcruciating,all-consuming,awhite-hotknifestabbingrepeatedlyintothebackofmybrain.Breathein,breatheout.Here’sthepattern—firstthere’sadull,numbingache,followedshortlybytheabsoluteworstpainyoucaneverimaginegoingintoyourhead,aspearshovedthroughyourskull,andtheimpactofitissohardthatyourentirebodygoesstiff;itlastsforasolidthreeseconds,followedbyasplitsecondofrelief.Andthenitrepeatsitselfalloveragain.
“Howlonghasitbeen?”IgaspouttoEden.Dimbluelightisslowlyfilteringinfromthewindows.
Edenpullsoutatinysquarecomandpressesitsloneknob.“Time?”heasksit.Thedeviceimmediatelyresponds,“Zerofivethirty.”Heputsitaway,aconcernedfrownonhisface.“It’sbeenalmostanhour.Hasitgoneonthislongbefore?”
I’mdying.Ireallyamdying.It’stimeslikethiswhenI’mgladthatIdon’tseemuchofJuneanymore.Thethoughtofherseeingmesweatinganddirtyonmykitchenfloor,clutchingmybabybrother’shandfordearlifelikesomeweepyweakling,whileshe’sbreathtakinginherscarletgownandjewel-studdedhair...Youknow,forthatmatter,inthismomentI’mevenrelievedthatMomandJohncan’tseeme.
WhenImoanfromanotherexcruciatingstabofpain,Edenpullsouthiscomagainandpressestheknob.“That’sit.I’mcallingthedoctors.”Whenthecombeeps,promptinghimforhiscommand,hesays,“Dayneedsanambulance.”Then,beforeIcanprotest,heraiseshisvoiceandcallsoutforLucy.
Secondslater,IhearLucyapproach.Shedoesn’tturnthelighton—sheknowsthatitonlymakesmyheadachesthatmuchworse.Instead,Iseeherstoutsilhouetteinthedarknessandhearherexclaim,“Day!Howlonghaveyoubeenouthere?”Sherushesovertomeandputsoneplumphandagainstmycheek.ThensheglancesatEdenandtoucheshischin.“Didyou
callforthedoctors?”Edennods.Lucyinspectsmyfaceagain,thencluckshertonguein
worrieddisapprovalandbustlesofftograbacooltowel.ThelastplaceIwanttoberightnowislyinginaRepublichospital—but
Eden’salreadyplacedthecall,andI’drathernotbedeadanyway.Myvisionhasstartedtoblur,andIrealizeit’sbecauseIcan’tstopmyeyesfromwateringnonstop.IwipeahandacrossmyfaceandsmileweaklyatEden.“Damn,I’mdrippingwaterlikealeakyfaucet.”
Edentriestosmileback.“Yeah,you’vehadbetterdays,”hereplies.“Hey,kid.RememberthattimewhenJohnaskedyoutobeinchargeof
wateringtheplantsoutsideourdoor?”Edenfrownsforasecond,diggingthroughhismemories,andthena
grinlightsuphisface.“Ididaprettygoodjob,didn’tI?”“Youbuiltthatlittlemakeshiftcatapultinfrontofourdoor.”Iclosemy
eyesandindulgeinthememory,atemporarydistractionfromallthepain.“Yeah,Irememberthatthing.Youkeptlobbingwaterballoonsatthosepoorflowers.Didtheyevenhaveanypetalsleftafteryouweredone?Ohman,Johnwassopissed.”HewasevenmadderbecauseEdenwasonlyfouratthetimeand,well,howdoyoupunishyourwide-eyedbabybrother?
Edengiggles.Iwinceasanotherwaveofagonyhitsme.“WhatwasitthatMomusedtosayaboutus?”heasks.NowIcantell
thathe’stryingtokeepmymindonotherthingstoo.Imanageasmile.“Momusedtosaythathavingthreeboyswaskindof
likehavingapettornadothattalkedback.”Thetwoofuslaughforamoment,atleastbeforeIsquintmyeyesshutagain.
Lucycomesbackwiththetowel.Sheplacesitagainstmyforehead,andIsighinreliefatitscoolsurface.Shechecksmypulse,thenmytemperature.
“Daniel,”Edenpipesupwhilesheworks.Hescootscloser,hiseyesstillstaringblanklyoffataspottotherightofmyhead.“Hanginthere,okay?”
Lucyshootshimacriticalfrownatwhathistoneimplies.“Eden,”shescolds.“Moreoptimisminthishouse,please.”
Alumprisesinmythroat,turningmybreathshallower.John’sgone,Mom’sgone,Dad’sgone.IwatchEdenwithaheavyacheinmychest.Iusedtohopethatsincehewastheyoungestofusboys,hemightbeabletolearnfromJohn’sandmymistakesandbetheluckiestoutofus,maybemakeitintoacollegeorearnagoodlivingasamechanic,thatwe’dbearoundtoguidehimthroughthedifficulttimesinlife.Whatwouldhappen
tohimifIweregonetoo?WhathappensifhehastostandaloneagainsttheRepublic?
“Eden,”Isuddenlywhispertohim,pullinghimclose.Hiseyeswidenatmyurgenttone.“Listenclose,yeah?IftheRepubliceverasksyoutogowiththem,ifI’mevernothomeorI’minthehospitalandtheycomeknockingonourdoor,don’tevergowiththem.Youunderstandme?Youcallmefirst,youscreamforLucy,you...”Ihesitate.“YoucallforJuneIparis.”
“YourPrinceps-Elect?”“She’snotmy—”Igrimaceatanotherwaveofpain.“Justdoit.Call
her.Tellhertostopthem.”“Idon’tunderstand—”“Promiseme.Don’tgowiththem,whateveryoudo.Okay?”My
answer’scutshortwhenajoltofpainhitsmehardenoughtosendmecollapsingtotheground,curledupintoatightball.Ichokeoutashriek—myheadfeelslikeit’sbeingsplitintwo.Ievenputatremblinghandtothebackofmyheadasiftomakesuremybrain’snotleakingoutontothefloor.Somewhereaboveme,Edenisshouting.Lucyplacesanothercalltothedoctor,thistimefrantic.
“Justhurry!”sheyells.“Hurry!”Bythetimethemedicsarrive,I’mfadinginandoutofconsciousness.
Throughacloudofhazeandfog,Ifeelmyselfgettingliftedoffthekitchenfloorandcarriedoutoftheapartmenttower,thenintoawaitingambulancethathasbeendisguisedtolooklikearegularpolicejeep.Isitsnowing?Afewlightflakesdriftontomyface,shockingmewithpinpricksofcoldness.IcalloutforEdenandLucy—theyrespondfromsomewhereIcan’tsee.
Thenwe’reintheambulanceandpullingaway.AllIseeforalongtimeareblobsofcolor,fuzzycirclesmovingbackand
forthacrossmyvision,likeI’mpeeringthroughthick,bumpyglass.Itrytorecognizesomeofthem.Aretheypeople?Isureashellhopeso—otherwiseIreallymusthavedied,ormaybeI’mfloatingintheoceananddebrisisjustdriftingallaroundme.Thatdoesn’tmakeanysense,though,unlessthedoctorsjustdecidedtotossmerightintothePacificandforgetaboutme.Where’sEden?Theymust’vetakenhimaway.Justlikeinthenightmare.They’vedraggedhimofftothelabs.
Ican’tbreathe.Myhandstrytoflyuptomythroat,butthensomeoneshoutssomething
andIfeelweightagainstmyarms,pinningmedown.Somethingcoldisgoingdownmythroat,chokingme.
“Calmdown!You’reokay.Trytoswallow.”Idoasthevoicesays.SwallowingturnsouttobemoredifficultthanI
thought,butIfinallymanageagulp,andwhateverthecoldthingisslidesrightdownmythroatandintomystomach,chillingmetomycore.
“There,”thevoicegoeson,lessagitatednow.“Shouldhelpwithanyfutureheadaches,Ithink.”Hedoesn’tseemtobetalkingtomeanymore—andasecondlater,anothervoicechimesin.
“Seemstobeworkingalittle,Doctor.”Imust’vepassedoutagainafterthat,becausethenexttimeIwakeup,
thepatternontheceiling’sdifferentandlateafternoonlightisslantingintomyroom.Iblinkandlookaround.Theexcruciatingpaininmyheadisgone,atleastfornow.IcanalsoseeclearlyenoughtoknowI’minahospitalroom,theever-presentportraitofAndenononewallandascreenagainstanotherwall,broadcastingnews.Igroan,thenclosemyeyesandletoutasigh.Stupidhospitals.Sosickofthem.
“Patientisawake.”Iturntoseeamonitornearmybedsidethatrecitesthephrase.Asecondlater,arealhuman’svoicepopsupoveritsspeakers.“MisterWing?”itsays.
“Yeah?”Imutterback.“Excellent,”thevoicereplies.“Yourbrotherwillbeinshortlytosee
you.”Nosoonerthanhervoiceclicksoff,mydoorburstsopenandEden
comesrunninginwithtwoexasperatednurseshotonhistail.“Daniel,”hegaspsout,“you’refinallyawake!Suretookyoulongenough.”Hislackofsightcatchesupwithhim—hestumblesagainsttheedgeofadrawerbeforeIcanwarnhim,andthenurseshavetocatchhimintheirarmstokeephimfromfallingtothefloor.
“Easythere,kid,”Icallout.Myvoicesoundstired,eventhoughIfeelalertandpain-free.“HowlongwasIout?Whereis...?”Ipause,confusedforamoment.That’sweird.Whatwasourcaretaker’snameagain?Igraspforitinmythoughts.Lucy.“Where’sLucy?”Ifinish.
Hedoesn’tanswerrightaway.WhenthenursesfinallysituateEdenbesidemeinbed,hecrawlsclosertomeandflingshisarmsaroundmyneck.Tomyshock,Irealizethathe’scrying.“Hey.”Ipathishead.“Calmdown—it’sokay.I’mawake.”
“Ithoughtyouweren’tgoingtomakeit,”hemurmurs.Hispaleeyessearchformine.“Ithoughtyouweregone.”
“Well,I’mnot.I’mrighthere.”Ilethimsobforalittlewhile,hisheadburiedagainstmychest,histearsblurringhisglassesandstainingmyhospitalgown.There’sacopingmechanismI’vestartedusingrecentlywhereIpretendtoretreatbackintotheshellofmyheartandcrawloutofmybody,likeI’mnotreallyhereandaminsteadobservingtheworldfromanotherperson’sperspective.Eden’snotmybrother.He’snotevenreal.Nothingisreal.Everythingisillusion.Ithelps.IwaitwithoutemotionasEdengraduallycomposeshimself,andthenIcarefullyletmyselfbackintomybody.
Finally,whenhe’swipedawaythelastofhistears,hesitsupandburrowsinbesideme.“Lucy’sfillingoutpaperworkupfront.”Hisvoicestillsoundsalittleshaky.“You’vebeenoutforabouttenhours.Theysaidtheyhadtorushyououtofourbuildingthroughthemainentrance—therejustwasn’tanytimetotrysneakingyouout.”
“Didanyonesee?”Edenrubshistemplesinanattempttoremember.“Maybe.Idon’t
know.Ican’tremember—Iwastoodistracted.Ispentallmorningoutinthewaitingroombecausetheywouldn’tletmeinside.”
“Doyouknow...”Iswallow.“Haveyouheardanythingfromthedoctors?”
Edensighsinrelief.“Notreally.Butatleastyou’reokaynow.Thedoctorssaidyouhadabadreactiontothemedicinetheyputyouon.They’retakingyouoffitandtryingsomethingdifferent.”
ThewayEdensaysthismakesmyheartbeatfaster.Hedoesn’tfullygrasptherealityofthesituation—hestillthinksthattheonlyreasonI’dcollapsedlikethatwasn’tbecauseI’mgettingworse,butbecauseIjusthadabadreaction.Asick,sinkingfeelinghitsmystomach.Ofcoursehe’dbeoptimisticaboutitall;ofcoursehethinksthisisjustatemporarysetback.I’dbeenonthatdamnmedicationforthelasttwomonthsafterthefirsttworoundsalsostoppedworking,andwithalltheextraheadachesandnightmaresandnausea,I’dhopedthatthepillshadatleastdonesomegood,thattheyweresuccessfullyshrinkingtheproblemspotinmyhippocampus—theirfancywordforthebottomofmybrain.Apparentlynot.Whatifnothingworks?
Itakeadeepbreathandputonasmileformybrother.“Well,atleast
theyknownow.Maybethey’lltrysomethingbetterthistime.”Edensmilesalong,sweetandnaïve.“Yeah.”Severalminuteslater,mydoctorcomesinandEdenmovesbackoutside
tothewaitingroom.Asthedoctortalksinalowvoicetomeabout“ournextoptions,”whattreatmentsthey’lltrytoexperimentwithnext,healsoquietlytellsmehowsmallofachancetheyhave.LikeIfeared,myreactionwasn’tjustsometemporarymedicineissue.“Themedicationisslowlyshrinkingtheaffectedarea,”thedoctorsays,buthisexpressionstaysgrim.“Still,theareacontinuestofester,andyourbodyhasbeguntorejecttheoldmedication,forcingustosearchfornewones.Wearequitesimplyracingagainsttheclock,Day,tryingtoshrinkitenoughandpullitoutbeforeitcandoitsworst.”Ilistentoitallwithastraightface;hisvoicesoundslikeit’sunderwater,unimportantandoutoffocus.
Finally,Istophimandsay,“Look,justtellmestraightup.HowmuchlongerdoIhave?Ifnothingworksout?”
Thedoctorpurseshislips,hesitates,andthenshakeshisheadwithasigh.“Probablyamonth,”headmits.“Maybetwo.We’redoingthebestwecan.”
Amonthortwo.Well,they’vebeenwronginthepast—amonthortwoprobablymeansmorelikefourorfive.Still.Ilooktowardthedoor,whereEden’sprobablypressedagainstthewoodandtryinginvaintohearwhatwe’resaying.ThenIturnbacktothedoctorandswallowthelumpinmythroat.“Twomonths,”Iecho.“Isthereanychance?”
“Wemighttrysomeriskiertreatments,althoughthosehavesideeffectsthatmaybefatalifyoureactbadlytothem.Asurgerybeforeyou’rereadywilllikelykillyou.”Thedoctorcrosseshisarms.Hisglassescatchthecoldfluorescentlightandshineinawaythatblocksouthiseyesentirely.Helookslikeamachine.“Iwouldsuggest,Day,thatyoubegingettingyourprioritiesinorder.”
“Myprioritiesinorder?”“Prepareyourbrotherforthenews,”hereplies.“Andsettleany
unfinishedbusiness.”
AT0810HOURSONTHEMORNINGAFTERTHEEMERGENCYbanquet,Andencallsme.“It’sCaptainBryant,”hesays.“Hehasputinhislastrequest,andhislastrequestistoseeyou.”
Isitattheedgeofmybed,blinkingawayanightoffitfulsleep,tryingtoworkuptheenergytounderstandwhatAndenistellingme.
“TomorrowwetransferhimtoaprisonontheothersideofDenvertoprepareforhisfinalday.He’saskedifhecanseeyoubeforethen.”
“Whatdoeshewant?”“Whateverhehastosay,hewantsitheardbyyourearsalone,”Anden
replies.“Remember,June—youhavetheoptiontorefusehim.Wedon’thavetograntthislastrequest.”
Tomorrow,Thomaswillbedead.IwonderwhetherAndenfeelsanyguiltoversentencingasoldiertodie.ThethoughtoffacingThomasaloneinajailcellsendsawaveofpanicthroughme,butIsteelmyself.MaybeThomashassomethingtosayaboutmybrother.DoIwanttohearit?
“I’llseehim,”Ifinallyreply.“Andhopefullythisisthelasttime.”Andenmusthearsomethinginmyvoice,becausehiswordssoften.“Of
course.I’llarrangeforyourescort.”
0930HOURS.DENVERSTATEPENITENTIARY.
ThehallwhereThomasandCommanderJamesonarebeingheldislitwithcold,fluorescentlight,andthesoundofmybootsechoesagainstthehighceiling.Severalsoldiersflankme,butasidefromus,thehallfeelsemptyandominous.PortraitsofAndenhangatsporadicintervalsalongthewalls.Myeyesstayfocusedoneachofthecellswepass,studyingthem,detailsrunningthroughmy
mindinanefforttokeepmyselfcalmandfocused.(32×32feetinsize,smoothsteelwalls,bulletproofglass,camsmountedoutsideofthecellsinsteadofinside.Mostofthemareempty,andtheonesthatarefilledholdthreeoftheSenatorswhohadplottedagainstAnden.ThisfloorisreservedforprisonersassociatedspecificallywithAnden’sattemptedassassination.)
“Ifyouexperienceanytroubleatall,”oneofthesoldierssaystome,tappinghiscapinapolitebow,“justcallusin.We’llhavethattraitordownonthegroundbeforehecanmakeamove.”
“Thankyou,”Ireply,myeyesstillfixedonthecellsaswedrawcloser.IknowIwon’tneedtodowhathejustsaid,becauseIknowThomaswon’teverdisobeytheElectorandtrytohurtme.Thomasismanythings,butheisn’trebellious.
Wereachtheendofthehallwheretwoadjacentcellssit,eachoneguardedbytwosoldiers.
Someonestirsinthecellclosesttome.Iturntowardthemovement.Idon’tevenhavetimetostudythecell’sinteriorbeforeawomanrapsherfingersagainstthesteelbars.Ijump,thenswallowthecrythatrisesupinmythroatasIstareintothefaceofCommanderJameson.
Asshefixeshereyesonmine,shegivesmeasmilethatmakesmebreakoutinacoldsweat.Irememberthissmile—she’dsmiledlikethisonthenightMetiasdied,whensheapprovedmetobecomeajunioragentinherpatrol.Thereisnoemotionthere,nothingcompassionateorevenangry.Fewthingsfrightenme—butfacingthecold,mercilessexpressionofmybrother’struekillerisoneofthem.
“Well,”shesaysinalowvoice.“Ifitisn’tIparis,comeheretoseeus.”Hereyesflickertome;thesoldiersgatherclosertomeinaprotectivegesture.Don’tbeafraid.IstraightenaswellasIcan,thenclenchmyjawandforcemyselftofaceherwithoutflinching.
“You’rewastingmytime,Commander,”Isay.“I’mnothereforyou.AndthenexttimeIseeyouwillbethedayyoustandbeforethefiringsquad.”
Shejustsmilesatme.“Sobrave,nowthatyouhaveyourhandsomeyoungElectortohidebehind.Isn’tthatso?”WhenInarrowmyeyes,shelaughs.“CommanderDeSotowould’vebeenabetterElectorthanthatboycouldeverbe.WhentheColoniesinvade,they’llburnthiscountrytotheground.Thepeoplewillregreteverputtingtheirsupportbehindalittleboy.”Shepressesagainstthebars,asiftryingtoedgeasclosetomeaspossible.Iswallowhard,buteventhroughmyfear,myangerboilsunderthesurface.Idon’tlookaway.
It’sstrange,butIthinkIseeasheenofglossacrosshereyes,somethingthatlooksdisconcertingaboveherunstablesmile.“Youwereoneofmyfavorites.DoyouknowwhyIwassointerestedinhavingyouonmypatrol?It’sbecauseIsawmyselfreflectedinyou.We’rethesame,youandI.Iwould’vebeenPrinceps,too,youknow.Ideservedit.”
Goosebumpsriseonmyarms.AmemoryflashesthroughmymindofthenightMetiasdied,whenCommanderJamesonescortedmetowherehisbodylay.“Toobadthatdidn’tworkout,isn’tit?”Isnap.ThistimeIcan’tkeepthevenomoutofmywords.IhopetheyexecuteyouasunceremoniouslyastheydidRazor.
CommanderJamesononlylaughsatme.Hereyesdilate.“Betterbecareful,Iparis,”shewhispers.“Youmightturnoutjustlikeme.”
Thewordschillmetothebone,andIfinallyhavetoturnawayandbreakmystareawayfromhers.Thesoldiersguardinghercelldon’tlookatme;theyjustkeepstaringforward.Icontinuewalking.Behindme,Icanstillhearhersoft,lowchuckle.Myheartpoundsagainstmyribs.
Thomasisbeingheldinsidearectangularcellwiththickglasswalls,thickenoughthatIcan’thearanythingofwhat’shappeninginside.Iwaitoutside,steadyingmyselfaftermyencounterwithCommanderJameson.ForaninstantIwonderwhetherIshouldhavestayedawayandturneddownhisfinalrequest;maybethatwouldhavebeenforthebest.
Still,ifIleavenow,I’llhavetofaceCommanderJamesonagain.Imightneedalittlemoretimetopreparemyselfforthat.SoItakeadeepbreathandsteptowardthesteelbarsliningThomas’scelldoor.Aguardopensit,letstwoadditionalguardsinafterme,andthenclosesitbehindus.Ourfootstepsechointhesmall,emptychamber.
Thomasgetsupwithaclankofhischains.HelooksmoredisheveledthanI’veeverseenhim,andIknowthatifhishandswerecompletelyfree,he’dgoaboutironinghisrumpleduniformandcombinghisunrulyhairrightaway.Butinstead,Thomasclickshisheelstogether.NotuntilItellhimtorelaxhisstancedoeshelookatme.
“It’sgoodtoseeyou,Princeps-Elect,”hesays.Isthereahintofsadnessinhisserious,sternface?“Thankyouforindulgingmyfinalrequest.Itwon’tbelongnowbeforeyou’reridofmeentirely.”
Ishakemyhead,angrywithmyself,irritatedthatinspiteofeverythinghehasdone,Thomas’sunshakableloyaltytotheRepublicstillstirsadropofsympathyfromme.“Sitdownandmakeyourselfcomfortable,”Itellhim.He
doesn’thesitateforasecond—inauniformmotion,webothkneeldownontothecoldcellfloor,himleaningagainstthecellwall,mefoldingmylegsunderneathme.Westaylikethatforamoment,lettingtheawkwardsilencebetweenuslinger.
Ispeakupfirst.“Youdon’tneedtobesoloyaltotheRepublicanymore,”Ireply.“Youcanletgo,youknow.”
Thomasonlyshakeshishead.“It’sthedutyofaRepublicsoldiertobeloyaltotheend,andI’mstillasoldier.IwillbeoneuntilIdie.”
Idon’tknowwhythethoughtofhimdyingtugsonmyheartstringsinsomanystrangeways.I’mhappy,relieved,angry,sad.“Whydidyouwanttoseeme?”Ifinallyask.
“Ms.Iparis,beforetomorrowcomes...”Thomastrailsoffforasecondbeforecontinuing.“IwanttotellyouthefulldetailsofeverythingthathappenedtoMetiasthatnightatthehospital.Ijustfeel...IfeellikeIoweittoyou.Ifanyoneshouldknow,it’syou.”
Myheartbeginstopound.AmIreadytoreliveallofthatagain—doIneedtoknowthis?Metiasisgone;knowingthedetailsofwhathappenedwillnotbringhimback.ButIfindmyselfmeetingThomas’sgazewithacalm,levellook.Hedoesoweittome.Moreimportantly,Ioweittomybrother.AfterThomasisexecuted,someoneshouldcarryonthememoryofmybrother’sdeath,ofwhatreallyhappened.
Slowly,Isteadymyheartbeat.WhenIopenmymouth,myvoicecracksalittle.“Fine,”Ireply.
Hisvoicegrowsquieter.“Iremembereverythingaboutthatnight.Everylastdetail.”
“Tellme,then.”Liketheobedientsoldierheis,Thomasbeginshisstory.“Onthenightof
yourbrother’sdeath,ItookacallfromCommanderJameson.Wewerewaitingwiththejeepsoutsidethehospital’sentrance.Metiaswaschattingwithanurseinfrontofthemainslidingdoors.Istoodbehindthejeepssomedistanceaway.Thenthecallcame.”
AsThomasspeaks,theprisonaroundusmeltsawayandisreplacedbythesceneofthatfatefulnight,thehospitalandthemilitaryjeepandthesoldiers,thestreetsasifIwerewalkingrightbesideThomas,seeingallthathesaw.Relivingtheevents.
“IwhisperedagreetingtoCommanderJamesonovermyearpiece,”Thomascontinues.“Shedidn’tbothergreetingmeback.
“‘Ithastobedonetonight,’shetoldme.‘Ifwedon’tactnow,yourcaptainmayplananactoftreasonagainsttheRepublic,orevenagainsttheElector.I’mgivingyouadirectorder,LieutenantBryant.FindawaytogetCaptainIparistoaprivatespottonight.Idon’tcarehowyoudoit.’”
Thomaslooksmeintheeyenowandrepeats,“AnactoftreasonagainsttheRepublic.Itightenedmyjaw.I’dbeendreadingthisinevitablecall,eversinceI’dfirstlearnedaboutMetias’shackingintothedeceasedcivilians’databases.KeepingsecretsfromCommanderJamesonwasdamnnearimpossible.Myeyesdartedtoyourbrotherattheentrance.‘Yes,Commander,’Iwhispered.
“‘Good,’shesaid.‘Tellmewhenyou’reready—I’llsendinseparateorderstotherestofyourpatroltobeatadifferentlocationduringthattime.Makeitquickandclean.’
“That’swhenmyhandbegantoshake.ItriedtoarguewiththeCommander,buthervoiceonlyturnedcolder.‘Ifyoudon’tdoit,Iwill.Believeme,Iwillbemessieraboutit—andnoone’sgoingtobehappythatway.Understood?’
“Ididn’tanswerherrightaway.InsteadIwatchedyourbrotherasheshookhandswiththenurse.Heturnedaround,searchingforme,andthenspottedmebythejeeps.Hewavedmeover,andInodded,carefultokeepmyfaceblank.‘Understood,Commander,’Ifinallyanswered.
“‘Youcandoit,Bryant,’shetoldme.‘Andifyou’resuccessful,consideryourselfpromotedtocaptain.’Thecallcutoff.
“IjoinedMetiasandanothersoldieratthehospitalentrance.Metiassmiledatme.‘Anotherlongnight,eh?Iswear,ifwe’restuckhereuntildawnagain,I’llwhinetoCommanderJamesonlikethere’snotomorrow.’
“Iforcedmyselftolaughalong.‘Let’shopeforanuneventfulnight,then.’Theliefeltsosmooth.
“‘Yes,let’shopeforthat,’Metiassaid.‘AtleastIhaveyouforcompany.’“‘Likewise,’Itoldhim.Metiasglancedbackatme,hiseyeshoveringfora
beat,thenlookedawayagain.“Thefirstminutespassedwithoutincident.Butthen,momentslater,aragged
slum-sectorboydraggedhimselfuptotheentranceandstoppedtotalktoanurse.Hewasamess—mud,dirt,andbloodsmearedacrosshischeeks,dirtydarkhairpulledawayfromhisface,andanastylimp.‘CanIbeadmitted,cousin?’heaskedthenurse.‘Istherestillroomtonight?Icanpay.’
“Thenursejustcontinuedscribblingonhernotepad.‘Whathappened?’shefinallyasked.
“‘Wasinafight,’theboyreplied.‘IthinkIgotstabbed.’
“Thenurseglancedoveratyourbrother,andMetiasnoddedtotwoofhissoldiers.Theywalkedovertopatdowntheboy.Afterawhile,theypocketedsomethingandwavedtheboyinside.Ashestaggeredpast,IleanedclosertoMetiasandwhispered,‘Don’tlikethelookofthatone.Hedoesn’twalklikesomeonewho’sbeenstabbed,doeshe?’
“Yourbrotherandtheboyexchangedabrieflook.Whentheboyhaddisappearedinsidethehospital,henoddedatme.‘Agreed.Keepaneyeonthatone.Afterourrotation’sdone,I’dliketoquestionhimabit.’”
Thomaspauseshere,searchingmyface,perhapsforpermissiontostoptalking,butIdon’tgiveit.
Hetakesadeepbreathandcontinues.“Iblushedthenathisnearness.Yourbrotherseemedtosenseittoo,andanawkwardsilencepassedbetweenus.I’dalwaysknownabouthisattractiontome,buttonightitseemedparticularlynaked.Maybeithadsomethingtodowithhiswearyday,youruniversityanticsthrowinghimoff,hisusualairofcommandsubduedandtired.Andunderneathmycalmexterior,myhearthammeredagainstmyribs.FindawaytogetCaptainIparistoaprivatespottonight.Idon’tcarehowyoudoit.Thisvulnerabilitywouldbemyonlychance.”
Thomaslooksbrieflydownathishands,butcarrieson.“So,sometimelater,ItappedMetiasontheshoulder.‘Captain,’Imurmured.
‘CanIspeaktoyouinprivateforamoment?’“Metiasblinked.Heaskedme,‘Isthisurgent?’“‘No,sir,’Itoldhim.‘Notquite.But...I’dratheryouknow.’“Yourbrotherstaredatme,momentarilyconfused,searchingforaclue.Then
hemotionedforasoldiertotakehisplaceattheentranceandthetwoofusheadedintoaquiet,darkstreetnearthebackofthehospital.
“Metiasimmediatelydroppedsomeofhisformalpretense.‘Somethingwrong,Thomas?Youdon’tlookwell.’
“AllIcouldthinkwastreasonagainsttheRepublic.Hewouldneverdoit.Wouldhe?We’dgrownuptogether,trainedtogether,grownclose....ThenIrememberedmycommander’sorders.Ifeltthesheathedknifesittingheavilyatmywaist.‘I’mfine,’Itoldhim.
“Butyourbrotherlaughed.‘Comeon.You’veneverneededtohideanythingfrommebefore.Youknowthat,right?’
“Justsayit,Thomas,Itoldmyself.IknewIwasteeteringbetweenthefamiliarandthepointofnoreturn.Forcethewordsout.Lethimhearit.Finally,Ilookedupandsaid,‘Whatisthisbetweenus?’
“Yourbrother’ssmilewavered.Hegrewverysilent.Thenhetookastepback.‘Whatdoyoumean?’
“‘YouknowwhatImean,’Itoldhim.‘This.Alltheseyears.’“NowMetiaswasstudyingmyfaceintently.Longsecondspassed.‘This,’he
finallyreplied,emphasizingtheword,‘can’thappen.You’remysubordinate.’“ThenIasked,‘Butitmeanssomethingtoyou,sir.Doesn’tit?’“SomethingjoyfulandtragicdancedacrossMetias’sface.Hedrewcloser.I
knewthatawallbetweenushadfinallyformedacrack.‘Doesitmeansomethingtoyou?’heaskedme.”
Again,Thomaspauses.Then,inasoftervoice,hesays,“Abladeofguilttwistedpainfullyinmychest,butitwastoolatetoturnback.SoItookastepforward,closedmyeyes,and—Ikissedhim.”
Anotherpause.“Yourbrotherfroze,likeIthoughthewould.Therewascompletestillness.Wedrewapart,thesilenceheavyaroundus,andforamomentIwonderedwhetherI’dmadeahugemistake,whetherI’dsimplymisreadeverysignalfromthepastfewyears.Orperhaps,perhapsheknewwhatIwasupto.Ifeltastrangesenseofreliefatthatthought.Maybeit’dbebetterifMetiasfiguredoutCommanderJameson’splansforhim.Maybethere’sawaytogetoutofthis.
“Butthenheleanedforwardandreturnedthekiss,andthelastofthatwallcrumbledaway.”
“Stop,”Isuddenlysay.Thomasfallssilent.Hetriestohidehisemotionsbehindsomesemblanceofnobility,buttheshameisplainonhisface.Ileanback,turnmyfaceawayfromhim,andpressmyhandstomytemples.Griefthreatenstooverwhelmme.Thomashadn’tjustkilledMetiasknowingthatmybrotherlovedhim.
Thomashadtakenthatknowledgeanduseditagainsthim.Iwantyoutodie.Ihateyou.Thetideofmyangergrowsstrongeruntil
finallyIhearthewhisperofMetias’svoiceinmyhead,thefaintlightofreason.It’sgoingtobeokay,Junebug.Listentome.Everythingisgoingtobeokay.Iwait,myheartbeatingsteadily,untilhisgentlewordsbringmeback.My
eyesopen,andIgiveThomasalevelstare.“Whathappenedafterthat?”IttakesThomasalongmomentbeforehespeaksagain.Whenhedoes,his
voicetrembles.“Therewasnowayout.Metiashadnoideawhatwasgoingon.He’dfallenintotheplanwithblindfaith.Myhandcrepttotheknifeatmywaist,butIcouldn’tbringmyselftodoit.Icouldn’tevenbreathe.”
Myeyesfillwithtears.Iwantsodesperatelytoheareverydetailandatthe
sametimeforThomastostoptalking,toshutthisnightawayandneverreturnagain.
“Analarmcutthroughtheair.Wejumpedapart.Metiaslookedflushedandconfused—onlyasecondlaterdidwebothrealizethatthealarmcamefromthehospital.
“Themomentbroke.Yourbrothersnappedbackintocaptainmodeandrantowardthehospitalentrance.‘Getinside,’heshoutedoverhisearpiece.Hedidn’tlookback.‘Iwanthalfofyouinthere—pinpointthesource.Gathertheothersattheentranceandwaitformycommand.Now!’
“Istartedrunningafterhim.Mychancetostrikehadvanished.IwonderedwhetherCommanderJamesonhadsomehowbeenabletoseemyfailure.TheRepublic’seyesareeverywhere.Theyknoweverything.Ipanicked.Ihadtofindanothermoment,anotherchancetogetyourbrotheralone.IfIcouldn’tdoit,thenMetias’sfatewouldfallintomuchharsherhands.
“BythetimeIcaughtupwithhimattheentrance,hisfacewasdarkwithanger.‘Break-in,’hesaid.‘Itwasthatboywesaw.I’msureofit.Bryant,getfiveandcircleeast.I’llgotheotherway.’Alreadyyourbrotherwasonthemove,gatheringhissoldiers.‘He’sgoingtohavetogetoutofthehospitalsomehow,’hetoldus.‘We’llbewaitingforhimwhenhetries.’
“IdidasMetiascommanded—buttheinstanthewasoutofearshot,Iorderedmysoldierstoheadeastandthensnuckawayintotheshadows.Ihavetofollowhim.Thisismylastchance.IfIfail,I’masgoodasdead,anyway.Sweattrickleddownmyback.Imeltedintotheshadows,remindingmyselfofallthelessonsMetiashadtaughtmeaboutsubtletyandstealth.
“ThenfromsomewhereinthenightIheardglassshatter.Ihidbehindawallasyourbrotherracedpast,aloneandunguarded,towardthesourceofthesound.ThenIfollowed.Thenight’sdarknessswallowedmewhole.Foramoment,IlostMetiasinthebackalleys.Whereishe?Iwhirledaroundinanalley,tryingtofigureoutwhereyourbrotherhadgone.
“Justthen,acallcamethrough.CommanderJamesonbarkedatme.‘You’dbetterfindasecondchancetotakehimdown,Lieutenant.Soon.’
“Finally,minuteslater,IfoundMetias.Hewasalone,strugglingupfromthegroundwithaknifeburiedinhisshoulder,surroundedbybloodandbrokenglass.Afewfeetfromhimlayasewercap.Irushedtohisside.Hesmiledbrieflyatme,whileclutchingtheknifeinhisshoulder.
“‘ItwasDay,’hegasped.‘Heescapeddownthesewers.’Thenhereachedouttome.‘Here.Helpmeup.’
“Thisisyourchance,Itoldmyself.Thisisyouronlychance,andifyoucan’tdoitnow,itwillneverhappen.”
Thomas’svoicefaltersasIsearchformyown.Iwanttostophimagain,butIcan’t.I’mnumb.
Thomasliftshisheadandsays,“IwishIcouldtellyoualltheimageswhirlingthroughmymind—CommanderJamesoninterrogatingMetias,torturinginformationoutofhim,tearingoffhisnails,slicinghimopenuntilhescreamedformercy,killinghimslowlyinthewaythatshedidtoallprisonersofwar.”Ashespeaks,thewordscomefaster,tumblingfromhismouthinafranticjumble.“IpicturedtheRepublic’sflag,theRepublic’sseal,theoathI’dtakenonthedayMetiasacceptedmeintoapatrol.ThatIwouldforeverremainfaithfultomyRepublicandmyElector,untilmydyingday.MyeyesdartedtotheknifeburiedinMetias’sshoulder.Doit.Doitnow,Itoldmyself.Iseizedhiscollar,yankedtheknifefromhisshoulder,andplungeditdeepintohischest.Rightuptothehilt.”
Ihearmyselfgasp.AsifIexpectedadifferentending.AsifonceIhearitenoughtimes,thestorywillchange.Itneverdoes.
“Metiasletoutabrokenshriek,”Thomaswhispers.“Orperhapsitcamefromme—Ican’trememberanymore.Hecollapsedbackontotheground,hishandstillclutchingmywrist.Hiseyeswerewidewithshock.
“‘I’msorry,’Ichokedout.”Thomaslooksatmeashecontinues,hisapologymeantforbothmeandmybrother.“Ikneltoverhistremblingbody.‘I’msorry,I’msorry,’Itoldhim.‘Ihadnochoice.Yougavemenochoice!’”
IcanbarelyhearThomasashecontinues.“Asparkofunderstandingappearedinyourbrother’seyes.Withitcamehurt,somethingthatwentbeyondhisphysicalpain,ableedingmomentofrealization.Thenrevulsion.Disappointment.‘NowIknowwhy,’hewhispered.Ididn’thavetoasktoknowthathewasreferringtoourkiss.
“No!Imeantit!Iwantedtoscream.Itwasagood-bye,theonlyoneIcouldgive.ButImeantit.Ipromise.
“InsteadIsaid,‘WhydidyouhavetocrosstheRepublic?Iwarnedyou,overandoveragain.CrosstheRepublictoomanytimes,andeventuallythey’llburnyou.Iwarnedyou!Itoldyoutolisten!’
“Butyourbrothershookhishead.It’ssomethingyou’llneverunderstand,hiseyesseemedtosay.Bloodleakedfromhismouth,andhisgriptightenedonmywrist.‘Don’thurtJune,’hesaid.‘Shedoesn’tknowanything.’Thenafierce,terrifiedlightappearedinhiseyes.‘Don’thurther.Promiseme.’
“SoItoldhim,‘I’llprotecther.Idon’tknowhow,butI’lltry.Ipromise.’“Thelightgraduallyfadedfromhiseyes,andhisgriploosened.Hestaredat
meuntilhecouldn’tstareanymore,andthenIknewthathewasgone.Move.Getoutofhere,Itoldmyself.ButIstayedcrouchedoverMetias’sbody,mymindblank.Hissuddenabsencehitme.Metiaswasgone,Metiaswasnevercomingback,anditwasallmyfault.No.LonglivetheRepublic.That’swhatreallymattered,Itoldmyself,yes,yes,thatwastheimportantthing.This—whateverthiswasbetweenMetiasandme—wasn’treal,couldneverhavehappenedanyway.NotwithMetiasasmycaptain.NotwithMetiasasacriminalworkingagainstthecountry.Itwasforthebest.Yes.Itwas.
“EventuallyIheardshoutsfromapproachingtroops.Ipickedmyselfup.Iwipedmyeyes.Ihadtocarrythroughnow.I’ddoneit,I’dstayedfaithfultotheRepublic.Somesurvivalinstinctkickedin.Everythingseemedmuted,likeafoghadsettledovermylife.Good.Ineededthestrangecalm,theabsenceofeverything,thatitbrought.Ifoldedmygriefcarefullybackintomychest,asifnothinghadhappened,andwhenthefirsttroopsarrivedonthescene,IplacedacalltoCommanderJameson.
“Ididn’tevenneedtosayaword.Mysilencetoldhereverythingsheneededtoknow.‘FetchLittleIpariswhenyougetachance,’shesaidtome.‘Andwelldone,Captain.’
“Ididn’treply.”Thomasstayssilent;thescenefades.Ifindmyselfbackinhisprisoncell,my
cheeksstreakedwithtears,myheartslicedopenasifhehadstabbedmeinthechestassurelyashe’dstabbedmybrother.
Thomasstaresatthefloorbetweenuswithholloweyes.“Ilovedhim,June,”hesaysafteramoment.“Ireallydid.EverythingIdidasasoldier,allmyhardworkandtraining,wastoimpresshim.”Hisguardisfinallydown,andIcanseethetruedepthofhistorturenow.Hisvoicehardens,asifheistryingtoconvincehimselfofwhathe’ssaying.“IanswertotheRepublic—MetiashimselftrainedmetobewhatIam.Evenheunderstood.”
I’msurprisedbyhowmuchmyheartisbreakingforhim.YoucouldhavehelpedMetiasescape.Youcouldhavedonesomething.Anything.Youcouldhavetried.Butevennow,Thomasdoesn’tbudge.Hewillneverchange,andhewillnever,everknowwhoMetiasreallywas.
Ifinallyrealizethetruereasonherequestedthismeetingwithme.Hewantedtogivearealconfession.Justlikeduringourconversationwhenhefirstarrestedme,heisfishingdesperatelyformyforgiveness,forsomethingtojustify—in
anysmallway—whathedid.Hewantstobelievewhathedidwaswarranted.Hewantsmetosympathize.Hewantspeacebeforehegoes.
Buthe’swastedhiseffortsonme.Icannotgivehimpeace,evenonhisfinalday.Somethingscannotbeforgiven.
“Ifeelsorryforyou,”Isayquietly.“Becauseyou’resoweak.”Thomastightenshislips.Stillsearchingforsomebitofvalidationhesays,“I
could’vechosenDay’sroute.Icouldhavebecomeacriminal.ButIdidn’t.Idideverythingright,youknow.ThatwaswhatMetiaslovedaboutme.Herespectedme.Ifollowedalltherules,Iobeyedallthelaws,IworkedmywayupfromwhereIstarted.”Heleanstowardme;hiseyesgrowmoredesperate.“Itookanoath,June.Iamstillboundbythatoath.IwilldiewithhonorforsacrificingeverythingIhave—everything—formycountry.Andyet,Dayisthelegend,whileIamtobeexecuted.”Hisvoicefinallybreakswithallhisanguishandinnertorment,theinjusticehefeels.“Itmakesnosense.”
Istandup.Behindme,theguardsmovetowardthecelldoor.“You’rewrong,”Isaysadly.“Itmakesperfectsense.”
“Why?”“BecauseDaychosetowalkinthelight.”Iturnmybackonhimforthelast
time.Thedooropens;thecell’sbarsmakewayforthehall,anewrotationofprisonguards,freedom.“AndsodidMetias.”
1532HOURS.
Thatafternoon,IheadtoDenverUniversity’strackwithOllieinanattempttoclearmythoughts.Outside,theskylooksyellowandhazywiththelightoftheafternoonsun.ItrytopicturetheskycoveredwiththeColonies’airships,ablazewiththefirefromaerialdogfightsandexplosions.TwelvedaysbeforeweneedtooffersomethingtotheColonies.WithoutDay’shelp,howareweevergoingtodothat?Thethoughttroublesme,butthankfullyithelpskeepthememoriesofThomasandCommanderJamesonoutofmyhead.Ipickupmypace.Myrunningshoespoundagainstthepavement.
WhenIarriveatthetrack,Inoticeguardsstationedateveryentrance.Atleastfoursoldierspergate.Andenmustbedoinghisexerciseroutinesomewhereoutheretoo.Thesoldiersrecognizeme,letmethrough,andushermeintothestadium,wherethetrackwrapsaroundalarge,openfield.Anden’snowheretobeseen.Perhapshe’sdowninthestadium’sundergroundlockers.
IdoaquickroundofstretcheswhileOlliewaitsimpatiently,dancingfrompawtopaw,andthenIbeginmakingmywaydownthetrack.IrunfasterandfasteralongthecurvedpathuntilI’msprintingaroundtheturns,myhairstreamingoutbehindme,Olliepantingatmyside.IimagineCommanderJamesonsprintingafterme,guninhand.Betterbecareful,Iparis.Youmightturnoutjustlikeme.WhenIlooparoundtothesideofthetrackwithtargetssetup,Iskidtoahalt,whipoutthegunatmybelt,andshootateachofthetargetsinrapidsuccession.Fourbull’s-eyes.Withoutpause,Ilooparoundthetrackagainandrepeatmyroutinethreetimes.Tentimes.Fifteentimes.FinallyIstop,myheartbeatingafrantictuneagainstmychest.
Ishifttoawalk,slowlycatchingmybreath,mythoughtswhirling.IfIhadnevermetDay,couldIhavegrownuptobecomeCommanderJameson?Cold,calculating,merciless?Hadn’tIturnedintoexactlythatwhenIfirstfiguredoutwhoDaywas?Hadn’tIledthesoldiers—ledCommanderJamesonherself—tohisfamily’sdoor,withoutasecondthoughtforwhetherornothisfamilymightbeharmed?Iresetmygun,thenaimatthetargetsagain.Mybulletsthudintothecentersoftheboards.
IfMetiaswerealive,whatwouldhehavethoughtofwhatIdid?No.Ican’tthinkaboutmybrotherwithoutrememberingThomas’s
confessionfromthismorning.Ifiremylastbullet,thensitdowninthemiddleofthetrackwithOllieandburymyheadinmyhands.I’msotired.Idon’tknowifIcaneveroutrunhowIusedtobe.AndnowI’mdoingitalloveragain—tryingtopersuadeDaytogiveuphisbrotheragain,tryingtousehimtotheRepublic’sadvantage.
FinallyIpickmyselfup,wipethesweatfrommybrow,andheadtotheundergroundlockers.Olliesettlesdowntowaitformeunderthecooloverhangnearthedoors;helapshungrilyatapouchofwaterIsetbeforehim.Iheaddownthestairs,thenturnthecorner.Theairishumidfromtheshowers,andthelonescreenembeddedattheendofthehallhasalightfilmofmistoverit.Iwalkdownthecorridorthatsplitsoffintothemen’sandwomen’slockerrooms.Afewvoicesechofromfartherdownthehall.
Asecondlater,IseeAndenemergefromthelockerroomwithtwoguardswalkingalongsidehim.Iblushinembarrassmentatthesight.Andenlookslikehejuststeppedoutoftheshowerafewminutesago,shirtlessandstilltowelingoffhisdamphair,hisleanmusclestenseafterhisworkout.Hehasacrispcollarshirtswungoveroneshoulder,thewhiteofthefabricastartlingcontrastagainsttheoliveofhisskin.Oneoftheguardstalkstohiminhushedtones,andwitha
sinkingfeeling,IwonderwhetherithassomethingtodowiththeColonies.Amomentlater,Andenglancesupandfinallynoticesmestaringatthem.Theconversationpauses.
“Ms.Iparis,”Andensays,apolitesmilecoveringupwhatevermighthavebeenbotheringhim.Heclearshisthroat,handshistoweltooneoftheguards,andpullsonearmthroughthesleeveofhiscollarshirt.“Iapologizeformyhalf-dressedstate.”
Ibowmyheadonce,tryinghardtolookunfazedasalloftheireyesfixateonme.“Noworries,Elector.”
Henodsathisguards.“Goahead.I’llmeetyoubothatthestairs.”Theguardsbowinunison,thenleaveusalone.Andenwaitsuntilthey’ve
disappearedaroundthecornerbeforeturningbacktome.“Ihopeyourmorningwentwellenough,”hesaysashestartsbuttoninguphisshirt.Hiseyebrowsfurrow.“Notrouble?”
“Notrouble,”Iconfirm,unwillingtodwellonmyconversationwithThomas.
“Good.”Andenrunsahandthroughhisdamphair.“Thenyou’vehadabettermorningthanI.IspentseveralhoursinaprivateconferencewiththePresidentofRossCity,Antarctica—we’veaskedthemformilitaryhelp,incaseofaninvasion.”Hesighs.“Antarcticasympathizes,buttheyaren’teasytoplease.Idon’tknowwhetherwecangetaroundusingDay’sbrother,andIdon’tknowhowtopersuadeDaytoallowit.”
“Noonewillbeabletoconvincehim,”Ireply,crossingmyarms.“Notevenme.YousaythatI’mhisweakness,buthisgreatestweaknessishisfamily.”
Andenstaysquietforamoment.Istudyhisfacecarefully,wonderingwhatthoughtsaregoingthroughhismind.Thememorycomesbacktomeofhowmercilesshecanbewhenhechooses,howhedidn’tflinchwhensentencingThomastodeath,howhe’dthrownCommanderJameson’sinsultrightbackinherface,howheneverhesitatedtoexecuteeverysinglepersonwhotriedtodestroyhim.Deepunderneaththesoftvoiceandkindheartliessomethingcold.“Don’tforcehim,”Isay.Andenlooksatmeinsurprise.“Iknowthat’swhatyou’rethinking.”
Andenfinishesbuttoninghisshirt.“IcanonlydowhatIhavetodo,June,”hesaysgently.Italmostsoundssad.
No.IwillneverletyouhurtDaylikethat.NotthewayI’vealreadyhurthim.“You’retheElector.Youdon’thavetodoanything.AndifyoucareabouttheRepublic,youwon’triskangeringtheonepersonwhothepublicbelievesin.”
Toolate,Ibitemytongue.ThepeoplebelieveinDay,buttheydon’tbelieveinyou.Andenwincesvisibly,andeventhoughhedoesn’tcommentonit,Isilentlycursemyselfformynotoriousturnsofphrase.“I’msorry,”Imurmur.“Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.”
AlongpausedragsonbeforeAndenspeaksagain.“It’snotaseasyasitseems.”Heshakeshishead.Atinybeadofwaterdropsfromhishairontohiscollar.“Youwoulddodifferently?Riskanentirenationinsteadofoneperson?Ican’tjustifyit.TheColonieswillstrikeifwedon’tgivethemanantidote,andthiswholemessstemmedfromsomethingthatI’mresponsiblefor.”
“No,yourfatherwasresponsible.Thatdoesn’tmeanyouare.”“Well,I’mmyfather’sson,”Andenreplies,hisvoicesuddenlystern.“What
differencedoesitmake?”Thewordssurprisebothofus.Itightenmylipsanddecidenottocomment
onit,butmythoughtschurnfrantically.Itdoesmakeadifference.ButthenIthinkbackonwhatAndenhadoncetoldmeabouttheRepublic’sfounding,howhisfatherandtheElectorsbeforehimhadbeenforcedtoactinthosedark,earlyyears.Betterbecareful,Iparis.Youmightturnoutjustlikeme.
PerhapsI’mnottheonlyonewhoneedstobecareful.Somethingshowingonthescreenattheendofthehalldistractsme.Ilook
towardit.There’ssomenewsaboutDay;thefootageshowssomeoldvideoclose-upofhimandthenabriefshotoftheDenverhospital,buteventhoughmostofthevideo’scutoff,Icancatchglimpsesofcrowdsgatheredinfrontofthebuilding.Andenturnstolookatthescreentoo.Aretheyprotesting?Whatcouldtheybeprotesting?
DanielAltanWingadmittedtohospitalforstandardmedicalexam,tobereleasedtomorrowAndenpressesahandtohisear.Anincomingcall.Heglancesbrieflyatme,
thenclicksonhismikeandsays,“Yes?”Silence.Asthescreen’sbroadcastcontinues,Anden’sfaceturnspale.It
remindsmeforaninstantofhowpaleDayhadlookedwhileatthebanquet,andthetwothoughtsconvergeintoasingle,frighteningthought.Isuddenlyknow,beyondtheshadowofadoubt,thatthisisthesecretDay’sbeenkeepingfromme.Ahorriblefeelingbuildsinmychest.
“Whoapprovedthisfootage’srelease?”Andensaysafteramoment,hisvoicenowawhisper.Ihearangerinit.“Therewon’tbeanexttime.Informme
first.Isthatunderstood?”Alumprisesinmythroat.Whenhiscallfinallyends,hedropshishandand
givesmealong,gravelook.“It’sDay,”hesays.“He’satthehospital.”“Why?”Idemand.“I’msosorry.”Hebowshisheadinatragicgesture,thenleansforwardto
whisperinmyear.Hetellsme.AndsuddenlyIfeellight-headed,liketheentireworldhasfunneledintoablurofmotion,likenoneofthisisreal,likeI’mstandingrightbackattheLosAngelesCentralHospitalonthenightIkneltbeforeMetias’scold,lifelessbody,staringintoafacethatInolongerrecognized.Myheartbeatslowstoastop.Everythingstops.Thiscan’tbereal.
Howcantheboywhostirredanentirenationbedying?
THEYKEEPMEATTHEHOSPITALOVERNIGHTBEFORETHEYreleasemetomyapartment.Bynow,thenewsisout—bystandershadseenmewheeledout,hadspreadthewordtootherfolks,andsoonthewildfirewasunstoppable,andtherumor’sbeenutteredineverycornerofthecity.I’veseenthenewscyclestrytohideittwicealready.Iwasinthehospitalforastandardcheckup;Iwasinthehospitaltovisitmybrother.Allsortsofgoddystories.Butnoone’sbuyingit.
Ispendalldayenjoyingtheluxuryofanon-hospitalbed,watchinglight,slushysnowfallingoutsideourwindow,whileEdencampsoutonthebedbymyfeetandplayswitharoboticskitwe’dgottenfromtheRepublicasagift.He’spiecingtogethersomesortofrobotnow;hematchesupamagneticLightcube—apalm-sizeboxwithminiscreensonitssides—withseveralArm,Leg,andWingcubestocreatewhat’sessentiallyalittleflyingJumboTronMan.Hesmilesindelightatit,thenbreaksthecubesapartandrearrangesthemintoapairofwalkingLegsthatdisplayJumboTronvideofeedswhenevertheystepdown.Ismiletoo,momentarilycontentthathe’scontent.Ifthere’sonegoodthingabouttheRepublic,it’sthattheyindulgeEden’sloveforbuildingstuff.EveryotherweekweseemtogetsomenewcontraptionthatI’veonlyeverseenupper-classkidsown.IwonderifJune’stheonewhoputinthisspecialrequestforEden,knowingwhatshedoes.OrmaybeAndenjustfeelsguiltyforallthestuffhisfatherputusthrough.
Iwonderifshe’sheardthenewsyet.Shemusthave.“Careful,”IsayasEdenclimbsupontomybedandleansovertostand
hisnewcreationupattheedgeofthewindow.Hishandsfumblearound,feelingforthewindowsillandtheglasspane.“Ifyoufallandbreaksomething,we’llhavetoheadbacktothehospital,andIamnotgoingtobehappyaboutthat.”
“You’rethinkingaboutheragain,aren’tyou?”Edenfiressmoothlyback.Hisblindeyesstaysquintedattheblocksstandingbarelyaninch
fromhisface.“Youalwayschangeyourvoice.”Iblinkathiminsurprise.“What?”Helooksinmydirectionandraisesaneyebrowatme,andthe
expressionlookscomicalonhischildlikeface.“Oh,comeon.It’ssoobvious.What’sthisJunegirltoyou,anyway?Thewholecountrygossipsaboutyoutwo,andwhensheaskedyoutocometoDenver,youcouldn’tpackusupfastenough.YoutoldmetocallherincasetheRepublicevercomestotakemeaway.You’regonnahavetospillsoonerorlater,yeah?You’realwaystalkingabouther.”
“Idon’ttalkaboutherallthetime.”“Uh-huh,right.”I’mgladEdencan’tseemyexpression.I’veyettotalkwithhimabout
Juneandherconnectiontotherestofourfamily—anothergoodreasontostayawayfromher.“She’safriend,”Ifinallyreply.
“Doyoulikeher?”Myeyesgobacktostudyingtherainysceneoutsideourwindow.
“Yeah.”Edenwaitsformetosaymore,butwhenIremainsilent,heshrugsand
goesbacktohisrobot.“Fine,”hemutters.“Tellmewhenever.”Asifoncue,myearpieceblaresoutasecondofsoftstatic,warningme
ofanincomingcall.Iacceptit.Amomentlater,June’swhisperedvoiceechoesinmyear.Shedoesn’tsayanythingaboutmyillness—shejustsuggests,“Canwetalk?”
Iknewit’donlybeamatteroftimebeforeIheardfromher.IwatchEdenplayingforasecondlonger.“Wegottadoitsomewhereelse,”Iwhisperback.Mybrotherglancesatme,momentarilycuriousatmywords.Idon’twanttoruinmyfirstdayoutofthehospitalbybreakingmydepressingprognosistoaneleven-year-old.
“Howaboutawalk,then?”Iglanceoutthewindow.It’sdinnertime,andthecafésdownonthe
street’sgroundlevelarecrowdedwithpatrons,almostallofthemhuddledunderhats,caps,umbrellas,andhoods,keepingtothemselvesinthistwilightslush.Mightbeagoodtimetowalkaroundwithoutattractingtoomuchattention.“Howaboutthis.Comeonover,andwe’llheadoutfromhere.”
“Great,”Junereplies.Shehangsup.Tenminuteslater,mydoorbellringsandstartlesEdentohisfeet—the
newcuberobothebuiltfallsfrommybed,threeofitslimbssnappingoff.Edenturnshiseyesinmydirection.“Who’sthere?”heasks.
“Don’tworry,kid,”Ireply,walkingovertothedoor.“It’sJune.”Eden’sshouldersrelaxatmywords;abrightgrinlightsuphisface,and
hehopsofftheedgeofthebed,leavinghisblockrobotbythewindow.Hefeelshiswaytowardtheotherendofthebed.“Well?”hedemands.“Aren’tyougonnaletherin?”
ItseemslikeduringthetimeI’dspentlivingonthestreets,I’dbeenmissingoutonseeingEdenblossom.Quietkidturnedstubbornandheadstrong.Can’timaginehowheinheritedthat.Isigh—Ihatekeepingthingsfromhim,buthowdoIexplainthisone?I’dtoldhimoverthepastyearwhoJuneis:aRepublicgirlwhodecidedtohelpusout,agirlwho’snowtrainingtobethecountry’sfuturePrinceps.Ihaven’tfiguredoutyethowtotellhimtherest—soIjustdon’tsayanythingaboutitatall.
Junedoesn’tsmilewhenIopenthedoor.SheglancesatEden,thenbacktome.“Isthatyourbrother?”shesaysquietly.
Inod.“Youhaven’tmethimyet,haveyou?”Iturnaroundandcallouttohim.“Eden.Manners.”
Edenwavesfromthebed.“Hi,”hecallsout.IstepasidesothatJunecancomein.Shemakesherwayovertowhere
Edenis,sitsdownnexttohimwithasmile,andtakeshissmallhandinhers.Sheshakesittwice.“Pleasedtomeetyou,Eden,”shesays,hervoicegentle.Ileanagainstthedoortowatchtheexchange.“Howareyoudoing?”
Edenshrugs.“Prettygood,Iguess,”hereplies.“Doctorssaymyeyeshavestabilized.I’mtakingtendifferentpillseveryday.”Hetiltshishead.“ButIthinkI’vebeengettingstronger.”Hepuffsouthischestalittle,thenstrikesamockposebyflexinghisarms.HiseyesareunfocusedandpointingslightlytotheleftofJune’sface.“HowdoIlook?”
Junelaughs.“Ihavetosay,youlookbetterthanmostpeopleIsee.I’veheardalotaboutyou.”
“Ihearaboutyoualottoo,”Edenrepliesinarush,“mostlyfromDaniel.Hethinksyou’rereallyhot.”
“Okay,that’senough.”Iclearmythroatloudenoughforhimtohear,thenshoothimacrankylookeventhoughhe’sblindasarock.“Let’sheadout.”
“Haveyoueatenyet?”sheasksasweheadtowardthedoor.“IwassupposedtobeshadowingAndenwiththeotherPrinceps-Elects,buthe’s
beencalledtotheArmorbarracksforaquickbriefing—somethingaboutfoodpoisoningamongthesoldiers.SoIhadacoupleoffreehours.”Afaintblushtoucheshercheeksasshesaysthis.“Ithoughtmaybewecouldgrababite.”
Iraiseaneyebrow.ThenIleanintowardhersothatmycheekbrushesagainsthers—tomyexcitement,Ifeelhershiveratmytouch.“Why,June,”Iteaseinalow,softvoice,smilingagainstherear.“Areyouaskingmeoutonadate?”
June’sblushdeepens,butitswarmthdoesn’ttouchhereyes.Mymomentofmischiefends.Iclearmythroat,thenlookovermy
shoulderatEden.“I’llbringsomefoodbackforyou.Don’tgooutonyourown.DowhatLucytellsyoutodo.”
Edennods,alreadyengrossedwiththeblockrobotagain.Minuteslater,weheadoutoftheapartmentcomplexandintothe
thickeningdrizzle.Ikeepmyheaddownandmyfacehiddenundertheshadowofasoldiercap;myneck’sprotectedbeneathmythickredscarf,andmyhandsareshoveddeepintothepocketsofmymilitarycoat.It’sstrangehowmuchI’vegottenusedtoRepublicclothing.Junepullshercoatcollarhigh,andherbreathbillowsoutaroundherincloudsofsteam.Theslushhaspickedupsome,sendingfreshiceandwaterintomyfaceandticklingmyeyelashes.Boldredbannersstillhangfromthewindowsofmosthigh-rises,andtheJumboTronshaveared-and-blacksymbolinthecornersoftheirbroadcastsinhonorofAnden’sbirthday.Othersalongthestreetrushpastinablurofmotion.Wewalkincomfortablesilence,savoringthesimplenearnessofeachother.
It’skindofweird,actually.Today’soneofmybetterdays,andIdon’thavealotoftroublekeepingupwithJune—today,itdoesn’tfeellikeIonlyhaveacoupleofmonthstolive.Maybethenewmedicinestheygavemearegoingtoworkthistime.
Wedon’tsayaworduntilJunefinallystopsusatasmall,steamingcaféseveralblocksfrommyapartment.RightawayIcanseewhyshechoseit—it’smostlyempty,atinylittlespotonthefirstfloorofatoweringhigh-risewashedwetwithslush,andnotverywelllit.Eventhoughit’sopentotheair,likemanyothercafésinthearea,ithasafewdarknooksthatareniceforustositat,anditsonlylightscomefromglowing,cube-shapedlanternsoneachofitstables.Ahostessushersusinside,seatingusatJune’srequestinoneoftheshadowycorners.Flatplatesofscentedwatersitscattered
throughoutthecafé.Ishiver,eventhoughourspotisprettywarmfromourheatlantern.
Whatarewedoinghereagain?Astrangefogwashesoverme,thenclears.We’reherefordinner,that’swhatwe’redoing.Ishakemyhead.IrecallthebriefstruggleI’dhadafewdaysago,whenIcouldn’trememberLucy’sname.Afrighteningthoughtemerges.
Maybethisisanewsymptom.OrmaybeI’mjustbeingparanoid.Afterweplaceourorders,Junespeaksup.Thegoldflecksinhereyes
shineinthelantern’sorangeglow.“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”shewhispers.Iholdmyhandsagainstthelantern,savoringtheheat.“Whatgood
wouldithavedone?”Junefurrowshereyebrows,andonlythendoInoticethathereyeslook
kindofswollen,likeshe’sbeencrying.Sheshakesherheadatme.“Therumorsareallovertheplace,”shecontinuesinavoiceIcanbarelyhear.“Witnessessaytheysawyoubeingcarriedoutofyourapartmentonastretcherthirty-fourhoursago—oneofthemapparentlyoverheardamedicdiscussingyourcondition.”
Isighandputmyhandsupindefeat.“Youknowwhat,ifthisisallsomehowcausingriotsinthestreetandmoretroubleforAnden,thenI’msorry.Iwastoldtokeepitasecret—andIdid,aswellasIcould.I’msureourgloriousElectorwillfigureoutawaytocalmfolksdown.”
Junebitesherliponce.“Theremustbesomesolution,Day.Haveyourdoctors—”
“They’realreadytryingeverything.”Iwinceasapainfulspasmrunsthroughthebackofmyhead,asifoncue.“I’vebeenthroughthreeroundsofexperiments.Slowandpainfulprogresssofar.”IexplaintoJunewhatthedoctorshadtoldme,theunusualinfectioninmyhippocampus,themedicationthat’sbeenweakeningme,suckingthestrengthoutofmybody.“Believeme,they’rerunningthroughsolutions.”
“Howlongdoyouhave?”shewhispers.Istaysilent,pretendingtobefascinatedwiththelantern.Idon’tknowif
Ihavethehearttosayit.Juneleanscloser,untilhershoulderbumpssoftlyagainstmine.“How
longdoyouhave?”sherepeats.“Please.Ihopeyoustillcareaboutmeenoughtotellme.”
Igazebackather,slowlyfalling—asIalwaysseemtodo—backunderherpull.Don’tmakemedothis,please.Idon’twanttosayitoutloudtoher;
itmightmeanthatit’sactuallytrue.ButshelookssosadandfearfulthatIcan’tkeepitin.Iletoutmybreath,thenrunahandthroughmyhairandlowermyhead.“Theysaidamonth,”Iwhisper.“Maybetwo.TheysaidIshouldgetmyprioritiesinorder.”
Junecloseshereyes—IthinkIseeherswayslightlyinherseat.“Twomonths,”shemurmursvacantly.TheagonyonherfaceremindsmeexactlywhyIdidn’twanttoletherknow.
Afteranotherlongsilencebetweenus,Junesnapsoutofherdazeandreachestopullsomethingoutofherpocket.Shecomesbackupwithsomethingsmallandmetallicinherpalm.“I’vebeenmeaningtogivethistoyou,”shesays.
Istareblanklyatit.It’sapaperclipring,thinlinesofwirepulledintoanelegantseriesofswirlsandclosedintoacircle,justliketheoneI’doncemadeforher.Myeyeswidenanddartuptohers.Shedoesn’tsayanything;instead,shelooksdownandhelpsmepushitontomyrighthand’sringfinger.“Ihadalittletime,”shefinallymutters.
Irunahandacrosstheringinwonder,myheartstringspulledtaut.Adozenemotionsrushthroughme.“I’msorry,”Istammeroutafterawhile,tryingtoputamorehopefulspinoneverything.That’sallIcansay,afterthisgiftfromher?“Theythinkthere’sstillachance.They’retryingoutsomemoretreatmentssoon.”
“Youoncetoldmewhyyouchose‘Day’asyourstreetname,”shesaysfirmly.Shemovesherhandsothatit’sovermine,hidingthepaperclipringfromview.Thewarmthofherskinagainstminemakesmybreathshort.“Everymorning,everything’spossibleagain.Right?”Ariveroftinglesrunsupmyspine.Iwanttotakeherfaceinmyhandsagain,kisshercheeksandstudyherdark,sadeyes,andtellherI’llbeokay.Butthatwouldjustbeanotherlie.Halfofmyheartisbreakingatthepainonherface;theotherhalf,Irealizeguiltily,isswellingwithhappinesstoknowthatshestillcares.There’sloveinhertragicwords,inthefoldsofthatthinmetalring.Isn’tthere?
Finally,Itakeadeepbreath.“Sometimes,thesunsetsearlier.Daysdon’tlastforever,youknow.ButI’llfightashardasIcan.Icanpromiseyouthat.”
June’seyessoften.“Youdon’thavetodothisalone.”“Whyshouldyouhavetobearit?”Imutterback.“Ijust...thoughtit
wouldbeeasierthisway.”
“Easierforwhom?”Junesnaps.“You,me,thepublic?Youwouldratherjustpassawaysilentlyoneday,withouteverbreathinganotherwordtome?”
“Yes,Iwould,”Ifindmyselfsnappingback.“IfI’dtoldyouthatnight,wouldyouhaveagreedtobecomeaPrinceps-Elect?”
WhateverwordssatonthetipofJune’stonguegounspoken.Shepausesatthat,thenswallows.“No,”sheadmits.“Iwouldn’thavehadthehearttodoit.Iwould’vewaited.”
“Exactly.”Itakeadeepbreath.“YouthinkIwantedtowhinetoyouaboutmyhealthinthatmoment?Tostandinthewayofyouandthepositionofalifetime?”
“Thatwasmychoicetomake,”Junesaysthroughclenchedteeth.“AndIwantedyoutomakeitwithoutmeintheway.”Juneshakesherhead,andhershouldersslightlydroop.“Youreally
thinkIcaresolittleaboutyou?”Ourfoodarrivesthen—steamingbowlsofsoup,platesofdinnerrolls,
andaneatlywrappedpackageoffoodforEden—andIlapsegratefullyintosilence.Itwould’vebeeneasierforme,Iaddtomyself.I’dratherstepawaythanberemindedeverydaythatIonlyhaveafewmonthslefttobewithyou.I’mashamedtosaythisoutloud,though.WhenJunelooksexpectantlyatmeforananswer,Ijustshakemyheadandshrug.
Andthat’swhenwehearit.Analarmwailsoutacrossthecity.It’sdeafening.Webothfreeze,thenlookupatthespeakersliningallthe
street’sbuildings.I’veneverheardasirenlikethisinmyentirelife—anendlessandearsplittingscreamthatdrenchestheair,drowningoutanythinginitspath.TheJumboTronshavegonedark.IshootJuneabewilderedlook.Whatthehellisthat?
ButJune’snolongerlookingatme.Hereyesarefixedonthespeakersblaringoutthealarmacrosstheentirestreet,andherexpressionisstrickenwithhorror.Together,wewatchastheJumboTronsflarebacktolife—thistimeeachscreenisbloodred,andeachhastwogoldwordsetchedinboldacrossitsdisplay:
SEEKCOVER“Whatdoesitmean?”Ishout.Junegrabsmyhandandstartstorun.“Itmeansthatanairstrike’s
coming.TheArmorisunderattack.”
“EDEN.”It’sthefirstwordoutofDay’smouth.TheJumboTronscontinue
broadcastingtheirominousscarletnoticeasthealarmechoesacrossthecity,deafeningmewithitsrhythmicroarandblottingoutallothersoundsinthecity.Alongthestreet,othersarepeekingoutofwindowsandpouringoutfrombuildingentrances,asbewilderedasweareovertheunusualalarm.Soldiersarefloodingintoformationonthestreet,shoutingintotheirearpiecesastheyseetheapproachingenemy.Irunrightbesidehim,thoughtsandnumbersracingthroughmymindaswego.(Fourseconds.Twelveseconds.Fifteensecondsablock,whichmeansseventy-fivesecondsuntilwereachDay’sapartmentifwekeepupourpace.Isthereafasterroute?AndOllie.Ineedtogethimoutofmyapartmentandtomyside.)Astrangefocusgripsme,justlikeithadthemomentIfirstfreedDayfromBatallaHallallthosemonthsago,likethemomentDayclimbedtheCapitolTowertoaddressthepeopleandIledsoldiersoffhistrail.Imayturnintoasilent,uncomfortableobserverintheSenatechamber,butouthereonthestreets,inthemidstofchaos,Icanthink.Icanact.
Irememberreadingaboutandrehearsingforthisparticularalarmbackinhighschool,althoughLosAngelesissofarawayfromtheColoniesthateventhosepracticedrillswererare.Thealarmwastobeusedonlyifenemyforcesattackedourcity,iftheywererightatthecity’sbordersandbargingtheirwayin.Idon’tknowwhattheprocessislikeinDenver,butIimagineitcan’tbethatdifferent—wearetoevacuateimmediately,thenseekouttheclosestassignedundergroundbunkerandboardsubwaysthatwillshuttleustoasafercity.AfterIenteredcollegeandofficiallybecameasoldier,thedrillchangedforme:Soldiersaretoreportimmediatelytoalocationtheircommandingofficersgivethemovertheirearpieces.Wemustbereadyforwaratamoment’snotice.
ButI’veneverheardthealarmusedforarealattackonaRepubliccity,becausetherehasn’tbeenoneyet.Mostattackswerethwartedbeforetheycould
reachus.Untilnow.AndasIrunalongsideDay,Iknowexactlywhatmustbegoingthroughhismind.Ittriggersafamiliarguiltinmystomach.
Dayhasneverheardthealarmbefore,norhasheevergonethroughadrillforit.Thisisbecausehe’sfromapoorsector.Iwasneversurebefore,andIadmitthatIneverthoughtmuchaboutit,butseeingDay’sconfusedexpressionmakesitallveryclear.Theundergroundbunkersareonlyfortheupperclass,thegemsectors.Thepoorarelefttofendforthemselves.
Overhead,anenginescreamsby.ARepublicjet.Thenseveralmore.Shoutsriseupandmixwiththealarm—IbracemyselfforacallfromAndenatanymoment.Then,faroffalongthehorizon,IseethefirstorangeglowslightupalongtheArmor.TheRepublicislaunchingacounterattackfromthewalls.Thisisreallyhappening.Butitshouldn’tbe.TheColonieshadgivenustime,howeverlittle,tohandoveranantidotetothem—andsincethatultimatum,onlyfourdayshavepassed.Myangerflares.Didtheywanttocatchusoffguardinsuchanextremeway?
IgrabDay’shandandpickupmypace.“CanyoucallEden?”Ishout.“Yeah,”Daygaspsout.ImmediatelyIcantellthathedoesn’thavethe
staminaheusedtohave—hisbreathingisslightlylabored,hisstepsslightlyslower.Alumplodgesinmythroat.Somehow,thisisthefirstevidenceofhisfadinghealththathitshome,andmyheartclenches.Behindus,anotherexplosionreverberatesacrossthenightair.Itightenmyholdonhishand.
“TellEdentobereadyatyourcomplex’sentrance,”Ishout.“Iknowwherewecango.”
Anurgentvoicecomesovermyearpiece.It’sAnden.“Whereareyou?”hesays.IshiverasIdetectafainthintoffearinhiswords—anotherthingIrarelyhear.“I’mattheCapitolTower.I’llsendajeeptopickyouup.”
“SendajeeptoDay’sapartment.I’llbethereinaminute.AndOllie—mydog—”
“I’llhavehimsenttothebunkersimmediately,”Andensays.“Becareful.”Thenaclicksoundsout,andIhearstaticforasecondbeforemyearpiecegoesdark.Besideme,DayrepeatsmyinstructionsforEdenoverhisownmike.
Bythetimewereachtheapartmentcomplex,Republicjetsarescreamingbyeveryothersecond,paintingdozensoftrailsintotheeveningsky.Crowdsofpeoplehavealreadystartedgatheringoutsidethecomplexandarebeingguidedinvariousdirectionsbycitypatrols.AjoltoffearseizesmewhenIrealizethatsomeofthejetsonthehorizonarenotRepublicjetsatall—butunfamiliarenemyones.Ifthey’rethisclose,thentheymust’vegottenpastourlongerrange
missiles.Twolargerblackdotshoverattheendofthesky.Coloniesairships.DayseesEdenbeforeIdo.He’sasmall,golden-hairedfigureclutchingthe
railingsbytheapartmentcomplex’sentrancedoor,squintinginvainattheseaofpeoplearoundhim.Theircaretakerstandsbehindhimwithbothofherhandsfirmlyonhisshoulders.“Eden!”Daycallsout.Theboyjerkshisheadinourdirection.Dayhopsupthestepsandscoopshimintohisarms,thenturnsbacktome.“Wheredowego?”heshouts.
“TheElector’ssendingajeepforus,”Ireplyinhisear,sothattheothersdon’thear.Alreadyafewpeoplearecastingusglancesofrecognitionevenastheystreampastusinahazeofpanic.Ipullmycoatcollarsashighupastheycango,thenbowmyhead.Comeon,Imuttertomyself.
“June,”Daysays.Imeethiseyes.“What’sgonnahappentotheothersectors?”
There’sthequestionI’vebeendreading.Whatwillhappentothepoorsectors?Ihesitate,andinthatbriefmomentofsilence,Dayrealizestheanswer.Hislipstightenintoathinline.Adeepragerisesinhiseyes.
Thejeep’sarrivalsavesmefromansweringrightaway.Itscreechestoastopseveralfeetfromwheretheothershavecrowdedaround,andinsideIseeAndenwaveonceatmefromthepassenger’sside.“Let’sgo,”IurgeDay.Wemakeourwaydownthestepsasasoldieropensthedoorforus.DayhelpsEdenandtheircaretakerinsidefirst,andwhenthey’rebothbuckledup,weclimbin.ThejeeptakesoffatbreakneckpaceasmoreRepublicjetsflybyoverhead.Offinthedistance,anotherbrightorangecloudmushroomsupfromtheArmor.Isitme,ordidthatseemlikeacloserhitthanbefore?(Perhapscloserbyagoodhundredfeet,giventhesizeoftheexplosion.)
“Gladtoseeyouallsafe,”Andensayswithoutturningaround.Heuttersaquickgreetingateachofus,thenmumblesacommandtothedriver,whomakesasharpturnaroundthenextblock.Edenletsoutastartledyelp.Thecaretakersqueezeshisshouldersandtriestosoothehim.
“Whytaketheslowerroute?”Andensaysasweveerdownanarrowstreet.Thegroundshakesfromanotherfar-offimpact.
“Apologies,Elector,”thedrivercallsback.“Word’sthatseveralexplosionshavegoneoffinsidetheArmor—ourfastestroute’snotsafe.TheybombedafewjeepsontheothersideofDenver.”
“Anyinjuries?”“Nottoomany,luckily.Couplejeepsoverturned—severalprisonersescaped,
andonesoldier’sdead.”
“Whichprisoners?”“We’restillconfirming.”Anastypremonitionhitsme.WhenI’dgonetoseeThomas,therehadbeena
rotationofguardsstandinginfrontofCommanderJameson’scell.WhenIleft,theguardsweredifferent.
Andenmakesafrustratedsound,thenturnstoglancebackatus.“We’reheadedtoanundergroundholdcalledSubterrainOne.Shouldyouneedtoenterorleavethehold,myguardswillscanyourthumbsatitsgateway.Youheardourdriver—it’snotsafetoheadoutonyourown.Understand?”
Thedriverpressesahandtohisear,blanches,andlooksatAnden.“Sir,wehaveconfirmationontheescapedprisoners.Therewerethree.”Hehesitates,thenswallows.“CaptainThomasBryant.LieutenantPatrickMurrey.CommanderNatashaJameson.”
Myworldlurches.Iknewit.Iknewit.JustyesterdayI’dseenCommanderJamesonsecurelybehindbars,andtalkedtoThomaswhilehewaswitheringawayinprison.Theycouldn’thavegonefar,Itellmyself.“Anden,”Iwhisper,forcingmysensesstraight.“Yesterday,whenIwenttoseeThomas,therehadbeenadifferentrotationofguards.Werethosesoldierssupposedtobethere?”DayandIexchangeaquicklook,andforaninstantIfeelasiftheentireworldisplayingusforfools,weavingourlivesintoonecrueljoke.
“Findtheprisoners,”Andensnapsintohismike.Hisownfacehasturnedwhite.“Shootthemonsight.”Heglancesbackatmewhilehecontinuestalking.“Andgetmetheguardsthatwereonduty.Now.”
Icringeasyetanotherexplosionmakesthegroundtremble.Theycouldn’thavegonefar.They’llbecapturedandshotbytheendoftheday.Irepeatthesewordstomyselfoverandover.No,somethingelseisatworkhere.Mymindflitsthroughthepossibilities:
It’snocoincidencethatCommanderJamesonmanagedtoescape,thattheColonies’attackhappenedonthesamedayshewasbeingtransferred.TheremustbeothertraitorsintheRepublic’sranks,soldiersthatAndenhasn’trootedoutyet.CommanderJamesonmayhavebeenpassinginformationtotheColoniesthroughthem.Afterall,theColoniessomehowknewwhenourArmorsoldierswouldrotateshifts,andparticularlythattodaywehadfewerArmorsoldiersstationedthanusualduetothefoodpoisoning.Theyknewtostrikeatourweakestmoment.
Ifthat’sthecase,thentheColoniesmayhavebeenplanninganattackformonths.Perhapsevenbeforetheplagueoutbreak.
AndThomas.Washeinonthewholething?Unlesshewastryingtowarnme.That’swhyheaskedformeyesterday.Forhisfinalrequest,butalsoinhopesthatIwouldnoticesomethingoffabouttheguards.Myheartbeatquickens.Butwhywouldn’thejustshoutawarning?
“Whathappensnext?”Iasknumbly.Andenleanshisheadagainsttheseat.He’sprobablythinkingthrougha
similarlistofpossibilitiesabouttheescapedprisoners,buthedoesn’tsayitaloud.“OurjetsareallengagedrightoutsideDenver.TheArmorshouldholdforagoodwhile,butthere’sastrongchancemoreColoniesforcesareontheirway.We’regoingtoneedhelp.Othernearbycitieshavebeenalertedandaresendingtheirtroopsforreinforcement,but”—Andenpausestolookoverhisshoulderatme—“itmightnotbeenough.Whilewekeepfunnelingciviliansunderground,June,youandIneedtohaveaprivatetalkrightaway.”
“Whereareyouevacuatingthepoorto,Elector?”Daypipesupquietly.Andenturnsinhisseatagain.HemeetsDay’shostileblueeyeswithaslevel
alookashecanmanage.InoticethatheavoidslookingatEden.“Ihavetroopsontheirwaytotheoutersectors,”hesays.“They’llfindshelterfortheciviliansanddefendthemuntilIgiveacommandotherwise.”
“Noundergroundbunkersforthem,Iguess,”Dayrepliescoldly.“I’msorry.”Andenletsoutalongbreath.“Thebunkerswerebuiltalong
timeago,beforemyfatherevenbecametheElector.We’reworkingonaddingmore.”
Dayleansforwardandnarrowshiseyes.HisrighthandgripsEden’stightly.“Thensplitthebunkersupbetweenthesectors.Halfpoor,halfrich.Theupperclassshouldrisktheirnecksoutintheopenasmuchasthelowerclass.”
“No,”Andensaysfirmly,eventhoughIhearregretinhiswords.HemakesthemistakeofarguingthispointwithDay,andIcan’tstophim.“Ifweweretodothat,thelogisticswouldbeanightmare.Theoutersectorsdon’thavethesameevacuationroutes—ifexplosionshitthecity,hundredsofthousandsmorepeoplewouldbevulnerableintheopenbecausewewouldn’tbeabletoorganizeeveryoneintime.Weevacuatethegemsectorsfirst.Thenwecan—”
“Doit!”Dayshouts.“Idon’tcareaboutyourdamnlogistics!”Anden’sfacehardens.“Youwillnottalkbacktomelikethat,”hesnaps.
There’ssteelinhisvoicethatIrecognizefromCommanderJameson’strial.“IamyourElector.”
“AndIputyouthere,”Daysnapsback.“Fine,youwannatalklogically?I’mgame.Ifyoudon’tmakeabiggerefforttoprotectthepoorrightnow,Ican
practicallyguaranteethatyou’llhaveafull-onriotonyourhands.DoyoureallywantthatwhiletheColoniesareattacking?Likeyousaid,you’retheElector.Butyouwon’tbeiftherestofthecountry’spoorhearsabouthowyou’rehandlingthis,andevenImightnotbeabletostopthemfromstartingarevolution.TheyalreadythinktheRepublic’stryingtokillmeoff.HowlongdoyouthinktheRepubliccanholdupagainstawarfromboththeoutsideandtheinside?”
Anden’sfacingforwardagain.“Thisconversation’sover.”Asalways,hisvoiceisdangerouslyquiet,butwecanheareverysingleword.
Dayletsoutacurseandslumpsbackinhisseat.Iexchangeaglancewithhim,thenshakemyhead.Dayhasapoint,ofcourse,andsodoesAnden.Theproblemisthatwedon’thavetimeforallthisnonsense.Afteramomentofsilence,Ileanforwardinmyseat,clearmythroat,andtryanalternative.
“Weshouldevacuatethepoorintothewealthysectors,”Isay.“They’llstillbeaboveground,butthewealthysectorssitintheheartofDenver,notalongtheArmorwherethefightingishappening.It’saflawedplan,butthepoorwillalsoseethatwe’remakingaconcertedefforttoprotectthem.Then,asthepeopleinthebunkersaregraduallyevacuatedtoLAviaundergroundsubways,we’llhavethetimeandspacetostartfilteringeveryoneelseundergroundaswell.”
Daymutterssomethingunderhisbreath,butatthesametimehegruntsinreluctantapproval.Heshootsmeagratefullook.“Soundslikeabetterplantome.Atleastthepeople’llhavesomething.”Asecondlater,Ifigureoutwhatitwasthathe’dmuttered.You’dmakeabetterElectorthanthisfool.
Anden’squietforamomentasheconsidersmywords.Thenhenodsinagreementandpressesahandagainsthisear.“CommanderGreene,”hesays,thenlaunchesintoaseriesoforders.
ImeetDay’seyes.Hestilllooksupset,butatleasthiseyesaren’tburninginangerliketheywereasecondago.HeturnshisattentionbackonLucy,whohasanarmwrappedprotectivelyaroundEden.He’scurledupinthecornerofthejeep’sseatwithhislegstuckedupandhisarmswrappedaroundthem.Hesquintsatthesceneblurringby,butI’mnotsurehowmuchofithecanactuallymakeout.IreachacrossDayandtouchEden’sshoulder.Hetensesupimmediately.“It’sokay,it’sJune,”Isay.“Anddon’tworry.We’regoingtobefine,doyouhear?”
“WhydidtheColoniesbreakthrough?”Edenasks,turninghiswide,purple-tonedeyesonmeandDay.
Iswallowhard.Neitherofusanswershim.Finally,afterherepeatshis
question,Dayhugshimcloserandwhisperssomethinginhisear.Edensettlesdownagainsthisbrother’sshoulder.Hestilllooksunhappyandscared,buttheterrorisatleasttempered,andwemanagetofinishtherestoftheridewithoutsayinganotherword.
Itfeelslikeaneternity(inactualitythetriptakesameretwominutesandtwelveseconds),butwefinallyarriveatanondescriptbuildingneartheheartofdowntownDenver,athirty-storyhigh-risecoveredwithcrisscrossingsupportbeamsonallfourofitssides.Dozensofcitypatrolsaremixedinwithcrowdsofcivilians,organizingthemintogroupsattheentrance.Ourdriverpullsthejeepuptothesideofthebuilding,wherepatrolsletusthroughthedoorofamakeshiftfence.Throughthewindow,Iseesoldiersclicktheirheelstogetherinsharpsalutesaswepassby.OneofthemisholdingOllieonaleash.Islumpinreliefatthesightofhim.Whenthejeephalts,twoofthempromptlyopenthedoorsforus.Andenstepsout—immediatelyhe’ssurroundedbyfourpatrolcaptains,allfeverishlyupdatinghimonhowtheevacuationisgoing.Mydogpullshissoldierfranticallytomyside.Ithankthesoldier,takeovertheleash,andrubOllie’shead.He’spantingindistress.
“Thisway,Ms.Iparis,”thesoldierwhoopensmydoorsays.Dayfollowsbehindmeinatensesilence,hishandstillclutchedtightlyaroundEden’s.Lucycomesoutlast.IlookovermyshouldertowhereAnden’snowdeepinconversationwithhiscaptains—hepausestoexchangeaquicklookwithme.HiseyesdarttoEden.IknowthatthethoughthehasmustbethesamethoughtrunningthroughDay’smind:KeepEdensafe.Inod,signalingtohimthatIunderstand,andthenwemovepastacrowdofwaitingevacueesandIlosesightofhim.
Insteadofdealingwiththelineupofciviliansattheentrance,soldiersescortusthroughaseparateentranceanddownawindingsetofstairs,untilwereachadimlylithallwaythatendsinasetofwide,steeldoubledoors.Theguardsstandingattheentranceshifttheirstancewhentheyrecognizeme.
“Thisway,Ms.Iparis,”theysay.OneofthemstiffensatthesightofDay,butlooksquicklyawaywhenDaymeetshisstare.Thedoorsswingopenforus.
We’regreetedbyablastofwarm,humidairandasceneoforderlychaos.Theroomwe’vesteppedintoseemslikeanenormouswarehouse(halfthesizeofaTrialstadium,threedozenfluorescents,andsixrowsofsteelbeamsliningtheceiling),withaloneJumboTronontheleftwallblastinginstructionstotheupper-classevacueeswhomillallaroundus.Amongstthemareahandfulofpoor-sectorpeople(fourteenofthem,tobeexact),thosewhomusthavebeenthe
housekeepersandjanitorsofsomeofthegem-sector’shomes.Tomydisappointment,Iseesoldiersseparatingthemoutintoadifferentline.Severalupper-classpeoplecastthemsympatheticlooks,whileothersglareindisdain.
Dayseesthemtoo.“Guesswe’reallcreatedequal,”hemutters.Isaynothing.
Afewsmallerroomslinetherightwall.Atthefarendoftheroom,theendofaparkedsubwaytrainrestsinsideatunnel,andcrowdsofbothsoldiersandcivilianshavegatheredalongbothofitsplatforms.Thesoldiersareattemptingtoorganizethecrowdsofbewildered,frightenedpeopleontothesubway.Whereitwilltakethem,Icanonlyguess.
Besideme,Daywatchesthescenewithsilent,simmeringeyes.HishandstaysclampedonEden’s.Iwonderwhetherhe’stakingnoteofthearistocraticclothingthatmostoftheseevacueesarewearing.
“Apologiesforthemess,”aguardsaystomeassheescortsustowardoneofthesmallerrooms.Shetapstheedgeofhercappolitely.“Weareintheearlystagesofevacuations,andasyoucansee,thefirstwaveisstillinprogress.Wecanhaveyou,aswellasDayandhisfamily,onthefirstwaveaswell,ifyoudon’tmindrestingforamomentinaprivatesuite.”
MarianaandSergemightalreadybewaitinginroomsoftheirown.“Thankyou,”Ireply.Wewalkpastseveraldoors,theirlong,rectangularwindowsrevealingempty,blankroomswithportraitsofAndenhangingontheirwalls.Acouplelookasiftheyhavebeenreservedforhigh-rankingofficials,whileothersappeartobeholdingpeoplewhomusthavecausedtrouble—detaineeswithsullenfacesflankedbypairsofsoldiers.Oneroomthatwepassbyholdsseveralpeoplesurroundedbyguards.
Itisthisroomthatmakesmepause.Irecognizeoneofthepeopleinthere.Isitreallyher?“Wait,”Icallout,steppingclosertothewindow.Nodoubtaboutit—Iseeayounggirlwithwideeyesandablunt,messybobofahaircut,sittinginachairbesideagray-eyedboyandthreeotherswholookmoreraggedthanIrecall.Iglanceatoursoldier.“Whataretheydoinginthere?”
Dayfollowsmylead.WhenheseeswhatIsee,hesucksinasharpbreath.“Getusinthere,”hewhisperstome.Hisvoicetakesonadesperateurgency.“Please.”
“Theseareprisoners,Ms.Iparis,”thesoldierreplies,puzzledbyourinterest.“Idon’trecommend—”
Itightenmylips.“Iwanttoseethem,”Iinterrupt.Thesoldierhesitates,glancesaroundtheroom,andthennodsreluctantly.
“Ofcourse,”shereplies.Shestepstowardthedoorandopensit,thenushersusin.LucystaysrightoutsidewithherhandtightlygrippingEden’s.Thedoorclosesbehindus.
IfindmyselfstaringstraightatTessandahandfulofPatriots.
WELL,DAMN.THELASTTIMEISAWTESS,SHEWASSTANDINGinthemiddleofthealleynearwhereweweresupposedtoassassinateAnden,herfistsclenchedandherfaceabrokenpicture.Shelooksdifferentnow.Calmer.Older.She’salsogottenagoodbittaller,andheronce-roundbabyfacehasleanedout.Weirdtosee.
Sheandtheothersareallshackledtochairs.Thesightdoesn’thelpmymood.Irecognizeoneofhercompanionsimmediately—Pascao,thedark-skinnedRunnerwithaheadofshortcurlsandthoseridiculouslypalegrayeyes.Hehasn’tchangedmuch,althoughnowthatI’mcloseenough,Icanseetracesofascaracrosshisnoseandanotheronenearhisrighttemple.Heflashesmeabrilliantwhitegrinthatdripssarcasm.“Thatyou,Day?”hesays,givingmeaflirtatiouswink.“Stillasgorgeousasyou’vealwaysbeen.Republicuniformssuityou.”
Hiswordssting.Iturnmyglareonthesoldiersstandingguardoverthem.“Whythehellaretheyprisoners?”
Oneofthemtiltshisnoseupatme.Basedonallthegoddydecorationsonhisuniform,hemustbethecaptainofthisgrouporsomething.“They’reformerPatriots,”hesays,emphasizinghislastwordasifhe’stryingtomakeajabatme.“WecaughtthemalongtheedgeoftheArmor,wheretheywereattemptingtodisableourmilitaryequipmentandaidtheColonies.”
Pascaoshiftsindignantlyinhischair.“Bullshit,youblinderboy,”hesnaps.“WewerecampedoutalongtheArmorbecauseweweretryingtohelpyoursorrysoldiersout.Maybeweshouldn’thavebothered.”
Tesswatchesmewithawarylookthatshe’sneverusedwithmebefore.Herarmslooksosmallandthinwiththosegiantshacklesclampedaroundherwrists.Iclenchmyteeth;mygazefallstothegunsatthesoldiers’belts.Nosuddenmoves,Iremindmyself.Notaroundthesetrigger-happytrots.Fromthecornerofmyeye,Inoticethatoneoftheothersisbleedingfrom
theshoulder.“Letthemgo,”Itellthesoldier.“They’renottheenemy.”Thesoldierglaresatmewithcoldcontempt.“Absolutelynot.Our
ordersweretodetainthemuntilsuchtime—”Besideme,Juneliftsherchin.“Ordersfromwhom?”Thesoldier’sbravadowaversalittle.“Ms.Iparis,myorderscame
directlyfromthegloriousElectorhimself.”HischeeksflushwhenheseesJunenarrowhereyes,andthenhestartsblabbingsomethingabouttheirtourofdutyaroundtheArmorandhowintensethebattle’sbeen.IstepclosertoTessandstoopdownuntilwe’reatthesameeyelevel.Theguardsshifttheirguns,butJunesnapsawarningatthemtostop.
“Youcameback,”IwhispertoTess.EventhoughTessstilllookswary,somethingsoftensinhereyes.“Yes.”“Why?”Tesshesitates.ShelooksoveratPascao,whoturnshisstartlinggrayeyes
fullyonme.“Wecameback,”hereplies,“becauseTessheardyoucallingforus.”
They’dheardme.AllthoseradiotransmissionsI’dbeensendingoutformonthsandmonthshadn’tendeduplostsomewhereinthedark—somehow,they’dheardme.Tessswallowshardbeforesheworksupenoughcouragetospeak.“Frankiefirstcaughtyouontheairwavesafewmonthsago,”shesays,noddingtowardacurly-hairedgirltiedtooneofthechairs.“Shesaidyouweretryingtocontactus.”Tesslowershereyes.“Ididn’twanttoanswer.ButthenIheardaboutyourillness...and...”
So.Thenewshasdefinitelygottenaround.“Heynow,”Pascaointerruptswhenhecatchesmyexpression.“We
didn’tcomebacktotheRepublicjustbecausewefeltsorryforyou.We’vebeenlisteningtothenewscomingfrombothyouandtheColonies.Heardaboutthethreatofwar.”
“Andyoudecidedtocometoouraid?”Junepipesup.Hereyesaresuspicious.“Whysogenerousallofasudden?”
Pascao’ssarcasticgrinfadesaway.HeregardsJunewithatiltofhishead.“You’reJuneIparis,aren’tyou?”
ThecaptainstartstotellhimtogreetJuneinamoreformalway,butJunejustnods.
“Soyou’retheonewhosabotagedourplansandsplitupourcrew.”Pascaoshrugs.“Nohardfeelings—notthat,youknow,IwasabigfanofRazororanything.”
“Whyareyoubackinthecountry?”Junerepeats.“Okay,fine.WegotkickedoutofCanada.”Pascaotakesadeepbreath.
“Wewerehidingoutthereaftereverythingfellapartduringthe”—hepausestoglanceatthesoldiersaroundthem—“the,ah,youknow.OurplaydatewithAnden.ButthentheCanadiansfiguredoutthatweweren’tsupposedtobeintheircountry,andwehadtofleebacksouth.Alotofusscatteredtothewinds.Idon’tknowwherehalfouroriginalgroupisnow—chancesarethatsomeofthemarestillinCanada.WhenthenewsaboutDaybroke,littleTesshereaskedifshecouldleaveusandheadbacktoDenveronherown.Ididn’twantherto,well,die—sowecamealong.”Pascaolooksdownforamoment.Hedoesn’tstoptalking,butIcantellthathe’sjustbabblingatthispoint,tryingtogiveusanyreasonbuttheirmainone.“WiththeColoniesinvading,Ithoughtthatifwetriedhelpingoutyourwareffort,thenmaybewecouldgetapardonandpermissiontostayinthecountry,butIknowyourElectorprobablyisn’tourbiggest—”
“Whatisallthis?”Allofusturnaroundatthevoice,rightasthesoldiersintheroomsnap
intosalutes.IgetupfrommycrouchtoseeAndenstandinginthedoorwaywithagroupofbodyguardsbehindhim,hiseyesdarkandominous,hisstarefixedfirstonJuneandmeandthenonthePatriots.Eventhoughithasn’tbeenthatlongsincewelefthimbehindtotalkwithhisgenerals,hehasafinelayerofdustontheshouldersofhisuniform,andhisfacelooksbleak.Thecaptainwho’dbeentalkingtousearliernowclearshisthroatnervously.“Myapologies,Elector,”hebegins,“butwedetainedthesecriminalsneartheArmor—”
Atthat,Junecrossesherarms.“ThenI’mguessingyouweren’ttheonewhoapprovedthis,Elector?”shesaystoAnden.There’sanedgetohervoicethattellsmesheandAndenaren’tonthebestoftermsrightnow.
Andenregardsthescene.Ourargumentfromthecarrideoverisprobablystillstewinginhismind,buthedoesn’tbotherlookinginmydirection.Well,good.MaybeI’vegivenhimsomethingtothinkabout.Finally,henodsatthecaptain.“Whoarethey?”
“FormerPatriots,sir.”“Isee.Whoorderedthis?”Thecaptainturnsbrightred.“Well,Elector,”hereplies,tryingtosound
official,“mycommandingofficer—”ButAndenhasalreadyturnedhisattentionawayfromthelyingcaptain
andstartstoleavetheroom.“Takethoseshacklesoffthem,”hesayswithoutturningbackaround.“Keeptheminherefornow,andthenevacuatethemwiththefinalgroup.Watchthemcarefully.”Hemotionsforustofollowhim.“Ms.Iparis.Mr.Wing.Ifyouplease.”
IlookbackonemoretimeatTess,who’swatchingthesoldiersuncliptheshacklesfromherwrists.ThenIheadoutwithJune.Edenrushesovertome,nearlycollidingwithmeinhishurry,andItakehishandbackinmine.
AndenstopsusbeforeagroupofRepublicsoldiers.Ifrownatthesight.Fourofthesoldiersarekneelingonthegroundwiththeirhandsontheirheads.Theireyesstaydowncast.Oneweepssilently.
Theremainingsoldiersinthegrouphavetheirgunspointedatthekneelingsoldiers.ThesoldierinchargeaddressesAnden.“ThesearetheguardswhowereinchargeofCommanderJamesonandCaptainBryant.WefoundasuspiciouscommunicationbetweenoneofthemandtheColonies.”
Nowonderhebroughtusouthere,toseethefacesofourpotentialtraitors.Ilookbackatthecapturedguards.ThecryingonelooksupatAndenwithpleadingeyes.“Please,Elector,”hebegs.“Ihadnothingtodowiththeirescape.I—Idon’tknowhowithappened.I—”Hiswordscutoffasagunbarrelcuffshiminthehead.
Anden’sface,normallythoughtfulandreserved,hasturnedice-cold.Ilookfromthekneelingsoldiersbacktohim.He’ssilentforamoment.Thenhenodsathismen.“Interrogatethem.Iftheydon’tcooperate,shootthem.Spreadthewordtotherestofthetroops.Letitbealessontoanyothertraitorswithinourranks.Letthemknowwewillrootthemout.”
Thesoldierswiththegunsclicktheirheels.“Yes,sir.”Theyhaultheaccusedtraitorstotheirfeet.Asickfeelinghitsmystomach.ButAndendoesn’ttakebackhiswords—instead,helooksonasthesoldiersaredragged,shoutingandpleading,outofthebunker.Junelooksstricken.Hereyesfollowtheprisoners.
Andenturnsonuswithagraveexpression.“TheColonieshavehelp.”Adullthudechoesfromsomewhereaboveus,andthegroundand
ceilingtrembleinresponse.JunepeerscloseratAnden,asifanalyzinghim.“Whatkindofhelp?”
“Isawtheirsquadronsintheair,rightbeyondtheArmor.They’renotallColoniesjets.SomeofthemhaveAfricanstarspaintedontheirsides.MygeneralstellmethattheColoniesareconfidentenoughtohaveparkedan
airshipandasquadronofjetslessthanahalfmilefromourArmor,settingupmakeshiftairfieldsastheygo.Theyarerampingupforanotherassault.”
MyhandtightensaroundEden’s.Hesquintsattheswarmsofevacueescrowdednearthesubway,butheprobablycan’tseeanythingmorethanamassofmovingblurs.IwishIcouldtakethatfrightenedlookoffhisface.“HowlongisDenvergonnahold?”Iask.
“Idon’tknow,”Andenrepliesgrimly.“TheArmorisstrong,butwecan’tfightasuperpowerforlong.”
“Sowhatdowedonow?”Junesays.“Ifwecan’tholdthemoffalone,thenarewejustgoingtolosethiswar?”
Andenshakeshishead.“Weneedhelptoo.I’mgoingtogetusanaudiencewiththeUnitedNationsorwithAntarctica,seewhetherthey’rewillingtostepuptotheplate.Theymightbuyusenoughtimefor...”Heglancesatmybrother,quietandcalmbesideme.Astabofguiltandragehitsme.InarrowmyeyesatAnden—myhandclampstighteronmybrother’sarm.Edenshouldn’thavetobeinthemiddleofthis.Ishouldn’thavetochoosebetweenlosingmybrotherandlosingthisdamncountry.
“Hopefullyitwon’tcometothat,”Isay.AsheandJunelaunchintoanin-depthconversationaboutAntarctica,I
lookbackattheroomwhereTessandthePatriotsarebeingheld.Throughthewindow,IcanseeTesstendingcarefullytothegirlwiththebleedingshoulderwhilethesoldierslookonwithuneasyexpressions.Don’tknowwhyallthosetrainedkillersshouldbescaredofalittlegirlarmedwithahandfulofbandagesandrubbingalcohol.IshiverasIthinkofthewayAndenorderedthoseaccusedsoldiersoutofthebunkerandkilled.Pascaolooksfrustrated,andforamoment,hemeetsmystarethroughtheglass.Eventhoughhedoesn’tmovehismouth,Icantellwhathe’sthinking.
HeknowsthattrappingthePatriotsinsidearoomduringthemiddleofabattle,whileciviliansandsoldiersalikearegettingkilledaboveground,isatotalgoddywaste.
“Elector,”Isuddenlysay,turningbacktofaceAndenandJune.Hepausestostareatme.“Letthemoutofthisbunker.”WhenAndenstayssilent,compellingmetogoon,Iadd,“Theycanhelpyoureffortupthere.Ibettheycanplaytheguerrillagamebetterthananyofyoursoldiers,andsinceyouwon’tbeevacuatingthepoorsectorsforawhile,youmightneedallthehelpyoucanget.”
Junedoesn’tsayanythingaboutmylittlejab,butAndenfoldshisarms
acrosshischest.“Day,IpardonedthePatriotsaspartofouroriginaldeal—butIhaven’tforgottenaboutmydifficulthistorywiththem.WhileIdon’twanttoseeyourfriendsshackledlikeprisoners,Ihavenoreasontobelievethatthey’llnowhelpacountrythattheyhaveterrorizedforsolong.”
“They’reharmless,”Iinsist.“TheyhavenoreasontofightagainsttheRepublic.”
“Threedeath-rowprisonersjustescaped,”Andensnaps.“TheColonieshavelaunchedasurpriseattackonourcapital.Andnowmywould-beassassinsaresittingadozenyardsfromme.I’mnotinthemostforgivingmood.”
“I’mtryingtohelpyou,”Ifireback.“Youjustcaughtyourtraitors,anyway,didn’tyou?DoyoureallythinkthePatriotshadanythingtodowithCommanderJameson’sescape?Especiallywhenshethrewthemtothedogs?DoyouthinkIliketheideathatmymother’skillersareontheloosenow?UnleashthePatriots,andthey’llfightforyou.”
Andennarrowshiseyes.“Whatmakesyouthinkthey’resoloyaltotheRepublic?”
“Letmeleadthem,”Isay.Edenjerkshisheadupatmeinsurprise.“Andyou’llgetyourloyalty.”Juneshootsmeawarningglare—Itakeadeepbreath,swallowmyfrustration,andwillmyselftocalmdown.She’sright.NopointgettingangryatAndenifIneedhimonmyside.“Please,”Iaddinalowervoice.“Letmehelp.Youhavetotrustsomeone.Don’tjustleavepeopleouttheretodie.”
Andenstudiesmyfaceforalongmoment,andwithachill,Irealizehowmuchhelookslikehisfather.Thesimilarityisonlythereforaninstant,though—andthenitvanishes,replacedbyAnden’sserious,concernedgaze.Asifhesuddenlyrememberswhoweare.Hesighsdeeplyandtightenshislips.“Letmeknowwhatyourplanis,”hefinallysays.“Andwe’llsee.Inthemeantime,Isuggestyougetyourbrotheronasubway.”Whenheseesmyexpression,headds,“He’llbesafeuntilyoujoinhim.Youhavemyword.”
ThenheturnsawayandmotionsforJunetoaccompanyhim.IletmybreathoutasIwatchasoldierleadhimandJunetowardaclusterofgenerals.Junelooksoverhershoulderatmeastheygo.Iknowshe’sthinkingthesamethingIam.She’sworriedaboutwhatthiswarisdoingtoAnden.Whatit’sdoingtoallofus.
Lucyinterruptsmythoughts.“Perhapsweshouldgetyourbrotherontheevacuationtrain,”shesays.Shegivesmeasympatheticlook.
“Right.”IlookdownatEdenandpathisshoulder.ItrymybesttohavefaithintheElector’spromise.“Let’sheadovertothetrainandgetthedetailsonhowtogetyououtofhere.”
“Whataboutyou?”Edenasks.“Areyoureallygoingtoleadsomekindofassault?”
“I’llmeetupwithyouinLosAngeles.Iswear.”Edendoesn’tmakeasoundaswemakeourwayovertothetrain
platformandletthesoldiersescortustowardthefront.Hisexpressionhasgrownseriousandsullen.Whenwe’refinallyinfrontofthetrain’sclosedglassdoor,Ibendtohiseyelevel.“Look—I’msorryI’mnotgoingwithyourightaway.Ineedtostayhereandhelp,yeah?Lucy’sgotyou.She’llkeepyousafe.I’lljoinupwithyousoon—”
“Yeah,fine,”Edengrumbles.“Oh.”Iclearmythroat.Edenissicklyandtech-mindedand
occasionallyobnoxious,buthe’srarelyangrylikethis.Evenafterhisblindness,he’sstayedoptimistic.Sohisbluntnessthrowsmeoff.“Well,that’sgood,”Idecidetorespond.“I’mgladyou’re—”
“You’rehidingsomethingfromme,Daniel,”heinterrupts.“Icantell.Whatisit?”
Ipause.“No,I’mnot.”“You’reaterribleliar.”Edenpullshimselfoutofmygraspandfrowns.
“Something’sup.IcouldhearitintheElector’svoice,andthenyousaidthatweirdthingtometheotherday,abouthowyouwereafraidtheRepublic’ssoldierswouldcomeknockingonourdoor...Whywouldtheydothatallofasudden?Ithoughteverythingwasfinenow.”
Isighandbowmyhead.Eden’seyessoftenalittle,buthisjawstaysfirm.“Whatisit?”herepeats.
He’selevenyearsold.Hedeservestoknowthetruth.“TheRepublicwantsyoubackforexperimentation,”Ireply,keeping
myvoicelowsothatonlyhecanhearme.“There’savirusspreadingintheColonies.Theythinkyouhavetheantidoteinyourblood.Theywanttotakeyoutothelabs.”
Edenstaresinmydirectionforalong,silentmoment.Aboveus,anotherdullthudshakestheearth.IwonderhowwelltheArmor’sholdingup.Secondsdragby.Finally,Iputahandonhisarm.“Iwon’tletthemtakeyouaway,”Isay,tryingtoreassurehim.“Okay?You’regoingtobefine.Anden—theElector—knowsthathecan’ttakeyouawaywithoutriskinga
revolutionamongthepeople.Hecan’tdoitwithoutmypermission.”“AllthosepeopleintheColoniesaregoingtodie,aren’tthey?”Eden
muttersunderhisbreath.“Theoneswiththevirus?”Ihesitate.Ineveraskedmuchaboutexactlywhattheplague’ssymptoms
were—Istoppedlisteningtheinstanttheymentionedmybrother.“Idon’tknow,”Iconfess.
“Andthenthey’regoingtospreadittotheRepublic.”Edenturnshisheaddownandwringshishandstogether.“Maybethey’respreadingitrightnow.Iftheytakeoverthecapital,thediseasewillspread.Won’tit?”
“Idon’tknow,”Irepeat.Eden’seyessearchmyface.Eventhoughhe’snearlyblind,Icanseethe
unhappinessinthem.“Youdon’thavetomakeallmydecisions,youknow.”“Ididn’tthinkIwas.Don’tyouwanttoevacuatetoLA?It’ssaferthere,
andItoldyou—I’llcatchupwithyouthere.Ipromise.”“No,notthat.Why’dyoudecidetokeepthisasecret?”Thisiswhyhe’supset?“You’rekidding,right?”“Why?”Edenpresses.“Youwould’veagreed?”Imoveclosertohim,thenglancearoundatthe
soldiersandevacueesandlowermyvoice.“IknowIdeclaredmysupportforAnden,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’veforgottenwhattheRepublicdidtoourfamily.Toyou.WhenIwatchedyougetsick,whentheplaguepatrolscametoourdooranddraggedyououtonthatgurney,withbloodblackeningyoureyes...”Ipause,closemyeyes,andshutthesceneout.I’veplayeditinmyheadamilliontimes;noneedtorevisititagain.Thememorymakesthepainflareupatthebackofmyhead.
“Don’tyouthinkIknowthat?”Edenfiresbackinalow,defiantvoice.“You’remybrother,notourmom.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Iamnow.”“No,you’renot.Mom’sdead.”Edentakesadeepbreath.“Iremember
whattheRepublicdidtous.OfcourseIdo.ButtheColoniesareinvading.Iwanttohelp.”
Ican’tbelieveEden’stellingmethis.Hedoesn’tunderstandthelengthstheRepublicwillgoto—hashereallyforgottentheirexperiments?Ileanforwardandputmyhandonhistinywrist.“Itcouldkillyou.Doyourealizethat?Andtheymightnotevenfindacureusingyourblood.”
Edenpullsawayfrommeagain.“It’smydecisiontomake.Notyours.”HiswordsechoJune’sfromearlier.“Fine,”Isnap.“Thenwhat’syour
decision,kid?”Hesteelshimself.“MaybeIwanttohelp.”“You’vegottabekiddingme.Youwanttohelpthemout?Areyoujust
doingthattogoagainstwhatI’msaying?”“I’mserious.”Alumprisesinmythroat.“Eden,”Ibegin,“we’velostMomandJohn.
Dadisgone.You’reallIhaveleft.Ican’taffordtoloseyoutoo.EverythingI’vedonesofar,I’vedoneforyou.I’mnotlettingyouriskyourlifetosavetheRepublic—ortheColonies.”
ThedefiancefadesfromEden’seyes.Hepropshisarmsupontherailingandleanshisheadagainsthishands.“Ifthere’sonethingIknowaboutyou,”hesays,“it’sthatyou’renotselfish.”
Ipause.Selfish.Iamselfish—IwantEdentostayprotected,outofharm’sway,andscrewwhateverhethinksaboutthat.Butathiswords,myguiltbubblesup.HowmanytimeshadJohntriedtokeepmeoutoftrouble?HowmanytimeshadhewarnedmeagainstmessingwiththeRepublic,ortryingtofindacureforEden?Ihadneverlistened,andIdon’tregretit.Edenstaresatmewithsightlesseyes,adisabilitytheRepublichandedtohim.Andnowhe’sofferinghimselfup,asacrificiallambtotheslaughter,andIcan’tunderstandwhy.
No.Idounderstand.Heisme—he’sdoingwhatIwould’vedone.Butthethoughtoflosinghimistoomuchtobear.Iputmyhandonhis
shoulderandstartsteeringhiminside.“GettoLAfirst.We’lltalkaboutthislater.Youbetterthinkthisthrough,becauseifyouvolunteerforthis—”
“Ididthinkitthrough,”Edenreplies.Thenhepullsoutofmygraspandstepsbackthroughthebalconydoor.“Andbesides,iftheycameforme,doyoureallythinkwecouldstopthem?”
Andthenhisturncomes.Lucyhelpshimstepontothesubway,andIholdhishandforabriefmomentbeforehehastoletgo.Despitehowupsetheseemstobe,Edenstillclutchesmyhandhard.“Hurryup,okay?”hesaystome.Withoutwarning,hethrowshisarmsaroundmyneck.Besidehim,Lucygivesmeoneofherreassuringsmiles.
“Don’tyouworry,Daniel,”shesays.“I’llwatchhimlikeahawk.”Inodgratefullyather.ThenIhugEdentight,squeezemyeyesshut,and
takeadeepbreath.“Seeyousoon,kid,”Iwhisper.ThenIreluctantlyuntanglehisfingersfrommine.Edendisappearsontothesubway.Momentslater,thetrainpullsawayfromthestationandtakesthefirstwaveof
evacueestowardtheRepublic’swestcoast,leavingonlyEden’swordsbehind,ringinginmymind.
MaybeIwanttohelp.Isitaloneforsometimeafterhistrainleaves,lostinthought,goingover
thosewordsrepeatedly.I’mhisguardiannow—Ihaveeveryrighttokeephimfromharm,andhellifI’mgoingtoseehimbackintheRepublic’slabsaftereverythingI’vedonetokeephimfromthere.Iclosemyeyesandburymyhandsinmyhair.
Afterawhile,ImakemywaybacktotheroomwherethePatriotsarebeingkept.Thedoor’sopen.WhenIstepinside,PascaoquitsstretchingouthisarmsandTesslooksupfromwhereshe’sfinishingthebandagingofthewoundedgirl’sshoulder.
“So,”Isaytothem,myeyeslingeringonTess.“YouguyscamebacktotowntogivetheColoniessomehell?”Tessdropshergaze.
Pascaoshrugs.“Well,itwon’tmatterifnooneletsusbackupthere.Why?Youhavesomethinginmind?”
“TheElector’sgivenhispermission,”Ireply.“AslongasI’mincharge,hethinkswe’llbegoodenoughnottoturnagainsttheRepublic.”Whatastupidfear,anyway.Theystillhavemybrother,don’tthey?
AslowsmilespreadsonPascao’sface.“Well.Thatsoundslikeitcouldbefun.Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”
Iputmyhandsinmypocketsandputmyarrogantmaskbackon.“WhatI’vealwaysbeengoodat.”
51.5HOURSSINCEMYFINALCONVERSATIONWITHTHOMAS.15HOURSSINCEILASTSAWDAY.8HOURSSINCETHECOLONIES’BOMBARDMENTOFDENVER’SARMORCAMETOALULL.
WE’REONTHEELECTOR’SPLANEHEADEDTOROSSCity,Antarctica.
IsitacrossfromAnden.Ollie’slyingatmyfeet.TheothertwoPrinceps-Electsareinanadjacentcompartment,separatedfromusbyglass(3×6feet,bulletproof,Republicsealcarvedonthesidefacingme,judgingfromtheedgesofthecut).Outsidethewindow,theskyisbrilliantblueandablanketofcloudspadsthebottomofourview.Anyminutenow,weshouldfeeltheplanedipandseethesprawlingAntarcticanmetropoliscomeintoview.
I’vestayedquietformostofthetrip,listeningonasAndentakesastreamofendlesscallsfromDenveraboutthebattle.Onlywhenwe’realmostoverAntarcticanwatersdoeshefinallyfallsilent.Iwatchhowthelightplaysonhisfeatures,contouringtheyoungfacethatholdssuchworld-wearythoughts.
“What’sthehistorybetweenusandAntarctica?”Iaskafterawhile.WhatIreallywanttosayis,Doyouthinkthey’llhelpus?butthatquestionisjustsillysmalltalk,impossibletoanswerandthuspointlesstoask.
Andenlooksawayfromthewindowandfixeshisbrightgreeneyesonme.“Antarcticagivesusaid.We’vetakeninternationalaidfromthemfordecades.Ourowneconomyisn’tstrongenoughtostandonitsown.”
ItstillunsettlesmethatthenationIoncebelievedsopowerfulisinrealitystrugglingforsurvival.“Andwhatisourrelationshipwiththemnow?”
Andenkeepshisgazesteadilyonme.Icanseethetensioninhiseyes,buthisfaceremainscomposed.“AntarcticahaspromisedtodoubletheiraidifwecandraftatreatythatcangettheColoniestalkingwithusagain.Andthey’vethreatenedtohalvetheiraidifwedon’thaveatreatybytheendofthisyear.”He
pauses.“Sowe’revisitingthemnotjusttoaskforhelp,buttotrytopersuadethemnottowithholdtheiraid.”
Wehavetoexplainwhyeverythinghasfallenapart.Iswallow.“WhyAntarctica?”
“TheyhavealongrivalrywithAfrica,”Andenreplies.“IfanyonewithpowerwillhelpuswinawaragainsttheColoniesandAfrica,it’llbethem.”Heleansforwardandrestshiselbowsonhisknees.Hisglovedhandsareafootawayfrommylegs.“We’llseewhathappens.Weowethemalotofmoney,andtheyhaven’tbeenhappywithusforthepastfewyears.”
“HasthePresidentevermetyouinperson?”“SometimesIvisitedwithmyfather,”Andenreplies.Heoffersmeacrooked
smilethatsendsunexpectedfluttersthroughmystomach.“Hewasacharmerduringmeetings.DoyouthinkIhaveachance?”
Ismileback.Icansensethedoublemeaninginhisquestion;he’snotjusttalkingaboutAntarctica.“You’recharismatic,ifthat’swhatyou’reasking,”Idecidetosay.
Andenlaughsalittle.Thesoundwarmsme.Helooksawayandlowershiseyes.“Ihaven’tbeenverysuccessfulatcharminganyonelately,”hemurmurs.
Theplanedips.Iturnmyattentiontomywindowandtakeadeepbreath,fightingdownthepinkrisingonmycheeks.
Thecloudsgrowneareraswedescend,andsoonweareengulfedinswirlinggraymist;afterafewminutesweemergefromtheirunderbellytoseeamassivestretchoflandcoveredinadenselayerofhigh-risesthatcomeinawildassortmentofbrightcolors.Isuckinmybreathatthesight.OnelookisallIneedtoconfirmjusthowmuchofatechnologicalandwealthgapthereisbetweentheRepublicandAntarctica.Athin,transparentdomestretchesacrossthecity,butwepassrightthroughitaseasilyasweslicedthroughtheclouds.Eachbuildingappearstohavetheabilitytochangecolorsonawhim(twohavealreadyshiftedfromapastelgreentoadeepblue,andonechangesfromgoldtowhite),andeachbuildinglooksbrand-new,polishedandflawlessinawaythatveryfewRepublicbuildingsare.Enormous,elegantbridgesconnectmanyofthetoweringskyscrapers,brilliantlywhiteunderthesun,eachonelinkingonebuilding’sfloortoitsadjacentbuildingandformingahoneycomb-likewebofivory.Theuppermostbridgeshaveroundplatformsintheircenters.WhenIlookcloser,Iseewhatseemlikeaircraftparkedontheplatforms.(Anotheroddity:Allofthehigh-riseshaveenormoussilverhologramsofnumbersfloatingovertheirroofs,eachrangingbetweenzeroandthirtythousand.Ifrown.Arethey
beingbeamedfromalightateachrooftop?Perhapstheysignifythepopulationlivingineachskyscraper—althoughifthatwerethecase,thirtythousandseemslikearelativelylowceilinggiventhesizeofeachbuilding.)
Ourpilot’svoiceringsoutovertheintercomtoinformusofourlanding.Asthecandy-coloredbuildingsgraduallyfillourentireview,wezeroinononeofthebridgeplatforms.Downbelow,Iseepeoplehurryingtoprepareforourjet’slanding.Whenwe’refinallyhoveringovertheplatform,anabruptjoltjerksallofussidewaysinourseats.Ollieliftshisheadandgrowls.
“We’remagneticallydockednow,”Andentellsmewhenheseesmystartledexpression.“Fromhereonout,ourpilotdoesn’tneedtodoathing.Theplatformitselfwillpullusdownforthelanding.”
WetouchdownsosmoothlythatIdon’tfeelathing.AswestepoutoftheplanealongwithourentourageofSenatorsandguards,I’mshockedfirstbyhownicethetemperatureisoutside.Acoolbreeze,thewarmthofthesun.Aren’tweatthebottomoftheearth?(Seventy-twodegreesismyassumption,southwestwind,abreezesurprisinglylightconsideringhowhighupfromgroundlevelweare.)ThenIrememberthethin,substance-lessdomewepassedthrough.ItmightbeawaytheAntarcticanscontroltheclimateintheircities.
Secondly,I’mshockedtoseeusimmediatelyusheredintoaplastictentbyateamofpeopleinwhitebiohazardsuitsandgasmasks.(ThenewsoftheColonies’plaguemusthavespreadhere.)Oneofthemquicklyinspectsmyeyes,nose,mouth,andears,andthenrunsabrightgreenlightacrossmyentirebody.Iwaitintensesilenceastheperson(maleorfemale?Ican’tbesure)analyzesthereadingonahandhelddevice.Fromthecornerofmyeye,IcanseeAndenundergoingthesametests—beingtheRepublic’sElectordoesnotapparentlyexemptonefrombeingpossiblycontaminatedwithplague.Ittakesagoodtenminutesbeforeweareallclearedforentryandledoutfromunderthetarp.
AndengreetsthreeAntarcticanpeople(eachdressedrespectivelyinagreen,black,orbluesuit,cutinanunfamiliarstyle)waitingforusonthelandingbridgewithafewguards.“Ihopeyourflightwentwell,”oneofthemsaysasMariana,Serge,andIapproach.ShegreetsusinEnglish,butheraccentisthickandlush.“Ifyouprefer,wecansendyouhomeinoneofourownjets.”
TheRepublicishardlyperfect;thatmuchI’veknownforalongtime,andcertainlyeversinceImetDay.ButtheAntarcticanwoman’swordsaresoarrogantthatIfeelmyselfbristle.ApparentlyourRepublicjetsaren’tgoodenoughforthem.IlookatAndentoseewhathisreactionwillbe,buthesimplybowshisheadandoffersabeautifulsmiletothewoman.“Gracias,Lady
Medina.Youarealwayssogracious,”hereplies.“I’mverygratefulforyouroffer,butIcertainlydon’twanttoimpose.We’llmakedo.”
Ican’thelpadmiringAnden.Everyday,Iseenewevidenceoftheburdensheshoulders.
Aftersomeargument,IreluctantlyletoneoftheguardstakeOllieawaytothehotelquarterswhereI’llbestaying.ThenweallfallintoaquietprocessionastheAntarcticansleadusofftheplatformandalongthebridgetowardtheconnectingbuilding(coloredscarlet,althoughI’mnotsureifit’sinhonorofourlanding).Imakeapointofwalkingclosetothebridge’sedge,sothatIcanlookdownatthecity.Foronce,ittakesmeawhiletocountthefloors(basedonthebridgesbranchingoutfromeveryfloor,thisbuildinghasoverthreehundredfloors—approximatelythreehundredtwenty-seven,althougheventuallyIlookawaytoshakeoffasenseofvertigo).Sunlightbathestheuppermostfloors,butthelowerfloorsarealsobrightlyilluminated;theymustbesimulatingsunlightforthosewalkingatgroundlevel.IwatchAndenandLadyMedinachatandlaughasiftheyareoldfriends.AndenfallssoneatlyintoitthatIcan’ttellwhetherhegenuinelylikesthiswomanorheissimplyplayingtheroleofanagreeablepolitician.ApparentlyourlateElectorhadatleasttrainedhissonwellininternationalrelations.
Thebuilding’sbridgeentrance,anarchwayframedwithintricatelycarvedswirls,slidesopentogreetus.Wehaltinalavishlydecoratedlobby(thickivorycarpetthat,tomyfascination,burstswithswirlsofcolorwhereverIputmyfeetdown;rowsofpottedpalms;acurvedglasswalldisplayingbrightadsandwhatseemlikeinteractivestationsforthingsIdon’tunderstand).Aswewalk,theAntarcticanshandeachofusathinpairofglasses.AndenandmanyoftheSenatorsimmediatelyputthemonasifthey’reusedtothisritual,buttheAntarcticansexplaintheglassesanyway.IwonderwhethertheyknowwhoIam,orwhethertheycare.Theycertainlynoticedmypuzzlementattheglasses.
“Keeptheseonforthedurationofyourvisit,”LadyMedinatellsuswithherrichaccent,althoughIknowherwordsaredirectedatme.“TheywillhelpyouseeRossCityasitreallyis.”
Intrigued,Iputtheglasseson.Iblinkinsurprise.ThefirstthingIfeelisasubtletickleinmyears,andthe
firstthingIseearethesmall,glowingnumbershoveringovertheheadsofeachoftheAntarcticans.LadyMedinahas28,627:LEVEL29,whilehertwocompanions(whohaveyettoutterasound)respectivelyhave8,819:LEVEL11and11,201:LEVEL13.WhenIlookaroundthelobby,Inoticeallsortsofvirtualnumbersandwords
—thegreenbulbousplantinthecornerhasWATER:+1hoveringoverit,whileCLEAN:+1floatsaboveadark,half-circlesidetable.Inthecornerofmyglasses,Iseetiny,glowingwords:
JUNEIPARISPRINCEPS-ELECT3REPUBLICOFAMERICALEVEL1SEPT.22.2132DAILYSCORE:0CUMULATIVESCORE:0We’vestartedwalkingagain.Noneoftheothersseemparticularlyconcerned
abouttheonslaughtofvirtualtextandnumberslayeredovertherealworld,soI’mlefttomyownintuition.(AlthoughtheAntarcticansaren’twearingglasses,theireyesoccasionallyflickertovirtualthingsintheworldinawaythatmakesmewonderwhethertheyhavesomethingembeddedintheireyes,orperhapsintheirbrains,thatpermanentlysimulatesallofthesevirtualthingsforthem.)
OneofLadyMedina’stwocompanions,abroad-shouldered,white-hairedmanwithverydarkeyesandgolden-brownskin,walksslowerthantheothers.Eventuallyhereachesmeneartheendoftheprocessionandfallsintostepbesideme.Itenseupathispresence.Whenhespeaks,though,hisvoiceislowandkind.“MissJuneIparis?”
“Yes,sir,”Ireply,bowingmyheadrespectfullyinthewayAndenhaddone.Tomysurprise,Iseethenumbersinthecornerofmyglasseschange:
SEPT.22.2132DAILYSCORE:1CUMULATIVESCORE:1Mymindspins.Somehow,theglassesmusthaverecordedmybowingaction
andaddedapointtothisAntarcticanscoringsystem,whichmeansbowingisequaltoonepoint.ThisisalsowhenIrealizesomethingelse:Whenthewhite-hairedmanspoke,Iheardabsolutelynoaccent—he’snowspeakingperfectEnglish.IglanceovertoLadyMedina,andwhenIcatchhintsofwhatshe’ssayingtoAnden,InoticethatherEnglishnowsoundsimpeccabletoo.The
tickleI’dfeltinmyearswhenIputontheglasses...maybeit’sactingassomesortoflanguagetranslationdevice,allowingtheAntarcticanstoreverttotheirnativelanguagewhilestillcommunicatingwithuswithoutmissingabeat.
Thewhite-hairedmannowleansovertomeandwhispers,“IamGuardsmanMakoare,oneofLadyMedina’snewerbodyguards.Shehasassignedmetobeyourguide,MissIparis,asitseemsyouareastrangertoourcity.It’squitedifferentfromyourRepublic,isn’tit?”
UnlikeLadyMedina,thewayGuardsmanMakoarespeakshasnocondescensioninitatall,andhisquestiondoesn’trubmethewrongway.“Thankyou,sir,”Ireplygratefully.“And,yes,IhavetoadmitthatthesevirtualnumbersIseeallovertheplacearestrangetome.Idon’tquiteunderstandit.”
Hesmilesandscratchesatthewhitescruffonhischin.“LifeinRossCityisagame,andweareallitsplayers.NativeAntarcticansdon’tneedglasseslikeyouvisitorsdo—allofushavechipsembeddednearourtemplesonceweturnthirteen.It’sapieceofsoftwarethatassignspointstoeverythingaroundus.”Hegesturestowardtheplants.“DoyouseethewordsWater—PlusOnehoveringoverthatplant?”Inod.“Ifyoudecidedtowaterthatplant,forexample,youwouldreceiveonepointfordoingso.AlmosteverypositiveactionyoumakeinRossCitywillearnyouachievementpoints,whilenegativeactionssubtractpoints.Asyouaccumulatepoints,yougainlevels.Rightnow,youareatLevelOne.”Hepausestopointupatthevirtualnumberfloatingoverhishead.“IamatLevelThirteen.”
“What’sthepointofreaching...levels?”Iaskasweleavethehallandstepintoanelevator.“Doesitdetermineyourstatusinthecity?Doesitkeepyourciviliansinline?”
GuardsmanMakoarenods.“You’llsee.”Westepoutoftheelevatorandheadoutontoanotherbridge(thistimeit’s
coveredwithanarchedglassroof)thatconnectsthisbuildingtoanother.Aswewalk,IbegintoseewhatGuardsmanMakoareistalkingabout.Thenewbuildingweenterlookslikeanenormousacademy,andaswepeerthroughglasspanelsintoclassroomslinedwithrowsofwhatmustbestudents,Inoticethatallofthemhavetheirownpointscoresandlevelshoveringovertheirheads.Atthefrontoftheroom,agiantglassscreendisplaysaseriesofmathquestions,eachwithaglowingpointscoreoverthem.
CALCULUSSEMESTER2Q1:6PTS
Q2:12PTSAndsoon.Atonepoint,Iseeoneofthestudentsattempttoleanoverand
cheatfromaneighbor.Thepointscoreoverhisheadflashesred,andasecondlaterthenumberdecreasesbyfive.
CHEATING:−5PTS1,642:LEVEL3Thestudentfreezes,thenquicklyreturnstolookingathisownexam.GuardsmanMakoaresmileswhenheseesmeanalyzingthesituation.“Your
levelmeanseverythinginRossCity.Thehigheryourlevel,themoremoneyyoumake,thebetterjobsyoucanapplyfor,andthemorerespectedyouare.Ourhighestscorersarewidelyadmiredandquitefamous.”Hepointstowardthebackofthecheatingstudent.“Asyoucansee,ourcitizensaresoengrossedinthisgameoflifethatmostofthemknowbetterthantodothingsthatwilldecreasetheirscores.WehaveverylittlecrimeinRossCityasaresult.”
“Fascinating,”Imurmur,myeyesstillgluedtotheclassroomevenaswereachtheendofthehallwayandheadoutontoanotherbridge.Afterawhile,anewmessagepopsupinthecornerofmyglasses.
WALKED1,000METERS:+2PTSDAILYSCORE:3CUMULATIVESCORE:3Tomysurprise,seeingthenumbersgoupgivesmeabriefthrillof
accomplishment.IturntoGuardsmanMakoare.“Icanunderstandhowthislevelingsystemisgoodmotivationforyourcitizens.Brilliant.”Idon’tsaymynextthoughtaloud,butsecretlyIwonder,Howdotheydistinguishbetweengoodandbadactions?Whodecidesthat?Whathappenswhensomeonespeaksoutagainstthegovernment?Doesherscoregoupordown?Imarvelatthetechnologyavailablehere—itreallymakesclear,forthefirsttime,exactlyhowfarbehindtheRepublicis.Havethingsalwaysbeensounequal?Wereweevertheleaders?
Weeventuallysettleinsideabuildingwithalarge,semicircularchamberusedforpoliticalmeetings(“TheDiscussionRoom,”LadyMedinacallsit).It’s
linedwithflagsfromcountriesaroundtheworld.Inthechamber’scenterisalong,mahoganywoodtable,andnowtheAntarcticandelegatessitononesidewhilewesitontheother.TwomoredelegateswhoareatsimilarlevelsasLadyMedinajoinusaswebeginourtalks,butit’sathirddelegatewhocatchesmyattention.He’sinhismidforties,withbronzehairanddarkskinandawell-trimmedbeard.ThetexthoveringoverhisheadreadsLEVEL202.
“PresidentIkari,”LadyMedinasaysassheintroduceshimtous.AndenandtheotherSenatorsbowtheirheadsrespectfully.Idothesame.AlthoughIdon’tdareturnmyeyesawayfromthediscussion,IcanseetheRepublic’sflaginmyperipheralvision.WithmyglassesIseethevirtualtextTHEREPUBLICOFAMERICAaboveitinglowingletters.RightnexttoitistheColoniesflag,withitsblackandgraystripesandthebrightgoldbirdinitscenter.
Someoftheothercountries’flagshavethewordAllyhoveringundertheirnames.Butwedon’t.
Fromthebeginning,ourdiscussionistense.“Itseemslikeyourfather’splanshavebackfiredagainstyou,”thePresident
tellsAnden.Heleansstifflyforward.“TheUnitedNationsis,ofcourse,concernedthatAfricahasalreadygivenaidtotheColonies.TheColoniesdeclinedaninvitationtotalkwithus.”
Andensighs.“Ourscientistsarehardatworkonacure,”hecontinues.Inoticehedoesn’tmentionDay’sbrotherinallthis,andDay’slackofcooperation.“ButtheColonies’forcesareoverwhelmingwithAfrica’smoneyandmilitarysupportingthem.Weneedhelptopushthemback,orweriskbeingoverrunwithinthemonth.Theviruscouldspreadtousaswell—”
“Youspeakwithpassion,”thePresidentinterrupts.“AndIhavenodoubtthatyou’redoinggreatthingsastheRepublic’snewleader.Butasituationlikethis...Thevirusmustfirstbecontained.AndI’veheardtheColonieshavealreadybreachedyourborders.”
ThePresident’shoney-goldeyesarepiercinglybright.WhenSergetriestospeakup,hesilenceshimimmediately,nevertakinghiseyesoffAnden.“LetyourElectorrespond,”hesays.Sergefallsbackintosullensilence,butnotbeforeIcatchasmuglookpassbetweentheSenators.Mytemperrises.They—theSenator,theAntarcticanPresident,evenAnden’sownPrinceps-Elect—arealltauntingAndenintheirownsubtleways.Interruptinghim.Emphasizinghisage.IlookatAnden,quietlywillinghimtostandupforhimself.Mariananodsonceathim.
“Sir?”shesays.
I’mrelievedwhenAndenfirstshootsadisapprovinglookatSerge,thenliftshischinandcalmlyreplies.“Yes.We’vemanagedtoholdthemofffornow,buttheyarerightattheoutskirtsofourcapital.”
ThePresidentleansforwardandrestshiselbowsonthetable.“So,there’sapossibilitythatthisvirushasalreadycrossedintoyourterritory?”
“Yes,”Andenreplies.ThePresidentissilentforamoment.Finally,hesays,“Whatexactlydoyou
want?”“Weneedmilitarysupport,”Andenreplies.“Yourarmyisthebestinthe
world.Helpussecureourborders.Butmostofall,helpusfindacure.They’vewarnedusthatacureistheonlywaythey’llretreat.Andweneedtimetomakethathappen.”
ThePresidenttightenshislipsandshakeshisheadonce.“Nomilitarysupport,money,orsupplies.I’mafraidyou’refartooindebtedtousforthat.Icanoffermyscientiststohelpyoufindacureforthedisease.ButIwillnotsendmytroopsintoanareainfectedwithdisease.It’stoodangerous.”WhenheseesthelookonAnden’sface,hiseyesharden.“Pleasekeepusupdated,asIhopeasmuchasyoudotoseearesolutionforthis.Iapologizethatwecan’tbeofmorehelptoyou,Elector.”
Andenleansonthetableandlaceshisfingerstogether.“WhatcanIdotopersuadeyoutohelpus,Mr.President?”hesays.
ThePresidentsitsbackinhischairandregardsAndenforamomentwithathoughtfullook.Itchillsme.He’sbeenwaitingforAndentosaythis.“You’regoingtohavetooffermesomethingworthmywhile,”hefinallysays.“Somethingyourfatherneveroffered.”
“Andwhat’sthat?”“Land.”Myhearttwistspainfullyatthosewords.Givingupland.Inordertosaveour
country,we’llhavetosellourselvestoanothernation.Somethingaboutitfeelsasviolatingassellingourownbodies.Givingupyourownchildtoastranger.Tearingawayapieceofourhome.IlookatAnden,tryingtodeciphertheemotionsbehindhiscomposedexterior.
Andenstaresathimforalongmoment.Ishethinkingaboutwhathisfatherwouldsayinasituationlikethis?Ishewonderingwhetherhe’sasgoodaleadertohispeople?Finally,Andenbowshishead.Graceful,eveninhumility.“I’mopentodiscussion,”hesaysquietly.
ThePresidentnodsonce.Icanseethesmallsmileatthecornersofhislips.
“Thenwe’lldiscuss,”hereplies.“Ifyoufindacuretothisvirus,andifweagreetotheland,thenIpromiseyoumilitarysupport.Untilthen,theworldwillhavetodealwiththisaswedowithanypandemic.”
“Andwhatdoyoumeanbythat,sir?”Andenasks.“Wewillneedtosealyourportsandborders,aswellastheColonies’.Other
nationswillneedtobenotified.I’msureyouunderstand.”Anden’ssilent.IhopethePresidentdoesn’tseethestrickenlookonmyface.
TheentireRepublicisgoingtobequarantined.
JUNE’SLEFTFORANTARCTICA.EDEN’SGONETOLOSANGELESwiththesecondwaveofevacuees.Therestofusstaydowninthisbunker,listeningastheColonies’assaultcontinues.Thistimethefightingsoundsworse.Sometimestheearthtremblessomuchthatfinedustrainsdownonusfromtheundergroundbunker’sceiling,coatinglinesofevacueeswithgrayashastheyhurryontothewaitingtrains.Rotatinglightsoverthetunnelpaintusallinflashesofred.Iwonderhowotherbunkersacrossthecityareholdingup.Theevacuationsgrowmoreurgentaseachtrainleavesonthehourandisreplacedbyanewone.Whoknowshowlongthistunnelwillstaystable.NowandthenIseesoldiersshovingciviliansbackintolinewhentheygetunruly.“Singlefile!”theybarkout,hoistingtheirgunsthreateningly.TheirfacesarehiddenbehindriotmasksthatIknowalltoodamnwell.“Dissidentswillbeleftbehind,noquestionsasked.Movealong,people!”
Istayatoneendofthebunkerasthedustcontinuestoraindown,huddledwithPascao,Tess,andtheotherremainingPatriots.Atfirstafewsoldierstriedtohustlemeontooneofthetrains,buttheyleftmealoneafterIlashedoutatthemwithastringofcurses.Nowtheyignoreme.IwatchpeopleloadontothetrainforafewsecondsbeforeIreturntomyconversationwithPascao.Tesssitsbesideme,althoughtheunspokentensionbetweenusmakesherfeelmuchfartheraway.Myever-presentheadachepoundsadullrhythmagainstthebackofmyhead.
“YousawmoreofthecitythanIdid,”IwhispertoPascao.“HowdoyouthinktheArmorisholdingup?”
“Notgreat,”Pascaoresponds.“Infact,withanothercountryhelpingtheColonies,Iwouldn’tbesurprisediftheArmorbreaksdowninamatterofdayswiththiskindofassault.It’snotgonnaholdforlong,trustme.”
Iturntoseehowmanypeoplearestillwaitingtoboardthetrains.“HowshouldwegoaboutthrowingtheColoniessomecurveballs?”
Anothervoicepipesup.It’soneoftheHackers,Frankie,thegirlwiththewoundedshoulder.“Ifwecangetourhandsonafewelectrobombs,”shesaysinathoughtfulvoice,“IcanprobablyrewirethemtoscramblesomeoftheColonies’weaponsorsomething.Wemightbeabletothrowtheirjetsofftoo.”
Jets.That’sright—AndenhadmentionedtheColoniesjetsparkedonamakeshiftairfieldoutsidetheArmor’swalls.“Icangetmyhandsonsome,”Iwhisper.“Andsomegrenadestoo.”
Pascaoclickshistongueinexcitement.“Sowegettohavefunwithnitroglycerineinyourplan?Yougetonthat,then.”HeturnstoaddressBaxter,whoshootsmeacrankyglare.Hisearlooksasmangledasever.“Hey,Baxterboy.BackupGioroandFrankie,makesureyougivethemcoverwhilethey’reworkingtheirmagic.”
“Pascao,”Isayquietly.“Youupforsomedecoywork?”Helaughs.“It’swhatRunnersarebestat,yeah?”“Let’splaywiththemalittle—IwantyoutobemydoublewhileI’m
headingtowardtheirmakeshiftairfield.”“Soundspromising.”“Good.”Despitethegrimnessofthesituation,Ismile.Anoteof
haughtinesscreepsintomyvoice.“Thisnight’llendwithabunchofexpensive,uselessmilitarymachines.”
“You’reoutofyourmind,blinderboy,”Baxtersnapsatme.“TheRepublicitselfcan’tevenkeeptheColoniesout—youthinkourlittlegroupstandsachanceatbeatingthem?”
“Wedon’tneedtobeatthem.Allweneedtodoisstallthem.AndI’mprettysurewe’regoodatthat.”
Baxterletsoutaloudsnortofirritation—butPascao’sgringrowswider.Nexttome,Tessshiftsuncomfortably.She’sprobablythinkingbackonmypastcrimes,howshe’dhadtowitnessthemallandhowshe’dhadtobandagemeupaftereverysingleone.Maybeshe’sworriedaboutme.Ormaybeshe’sglad.Maybeshe’drathermenotbehereatall.Butshehadcomebackherebecauseofme.That’swhatshesaid,isn’tit?Shemuststillcare,atleastonsomelevel.Itrytothinkoftherightthingtosaytohertofillthisawkwardsilence,butinsteadIquestiontheothers.“Youtoldmebackintheroomthatyouguyscamebackherebecauseyouwantedtobepardoned.Butyoucould’vetriedescapingtoacountryotherthantheRepublic,yeah?Youwouldn’tevenhavetohelptheRepublicout.Anden—
theElector,thatis—hewould’vepardonedyouallanyway.”MyeyesfallonPascao.“Youknewthat,didn’tyou?Why’dyouallreallycomebackhere?Iknowit’snotjustbecauseyouheardmyplea.”
Pascao’sgrinfades,andforamomentheactuallylooksserious.Hesighs,thengazesaroundatourlittlegroup.It’shardtobelievetheyusedtobeapartofsomethingsomuchlarger.“We’rethePatriots,right?”hefinallysays.“We’resupposedtobecommittedtoseeingtheUnitedStatesreturninsomewayorother.WiththewaythingsseemtobeintheColonies,Idon’tknowifthey’dbetherightonestobringthatkindachangeabout.ButIgottaadmit,thenewRepublicElectorhaspotential,andafterwhatRazorpulledonus,evenIthinkAndenmightbetheanswerwe’vebeenwaitingfor.”PascaopausestonodatBaxter,whojustshrugs.“EvenBaxterboyherethinksso.”
Ifrown.“SoyouguyscamebackherebecauseyougenuinelywanttohelptheRepublicwinthiswar?Youseriouslywanttohelpusdefendourselves?”Pascaonodsagain.“Whydidn’tyousaythatbackintheroom?Would’vesoundedprettynoble.”
“No,itwouldn’t.”Pascaoshakeshishead.“Theywouldn’thavebelievedus.ThePatriots,theterroristswhousedtoblowupRepublicsoldierseverychancetheygot?Yeah,right.Ifiguredit’dbebetterforusifweplayedthepardoncardinstead.It’dseemlikeamorerealisticanswerforyourElectorandyourlittlePrinceps-Elect.”
Istaysilent.WhenPascaoseesmehesitate,hedustsoffhishandsandstandsup.“Let’sgetstarted,”hesaystome.“Notimetowaste,notwiththishailstormhappeningupstairs.”HemotionsfortheotherPatriotstogatheraroundandstartsdivvyinguptheirindividualtasks.Irisetoacrouch.
Tesstakesadeepbreath,andwhenshecatchesmygazeagain,shespeakstomeforthefirsttimesincebeingintheroomtogether.“I’msorry,Day.”Shesaysitsoftly,sothattheotherscan’thear.
IfreezewhereIam,restingmyelbowsonmycrouchedlegs.“Why?”Ireply.“Youdon’thaveanythingtobesorryfor.”
“Yes,Ido.”Tesslooksaway.Howdidshegrowupsoquickly?She’sstillthin,stilldelicate,buthereyesbelongtosomeoneolderthanIremember.“Ididn’tmeantoleaveyoubehind,andIdidn’tmeantoblameJuneforeverything.Idon’treallybelieveshe’sbad.Ineverreallybelievedthat.Iwasjustso...angry.”
Herfacepullsmetoherlikeitalwaysdoes,thewayitdidallthewaybackwhenIfirstsawherdiggingaroundinthatdumpster.IwishIcouldhugher,butIsitbackandwait,lettinghermakethecall.“Tess...,”Isayslowly,tryingtofigureoutthebestwaytoexpresswhatI’mfeeling.Hell,I’vesaidsomanystupidthingstoherinthepast.“Iloveyou.Nomatterwhathappensbetweenus.”
Tesswrapsherarmsaroundherknees.“Iknow.”Iswallowhardandlookdown.“ButIdon’tloveyouthewayyouwant
meto.I’msorryifIevergaveyouthewrongimpression.Idon’tthinkI’veevertreatedyouaswellasyoudeserve.”Myhearttwistspainfullyasthewordsleavemymouth,strikingherastheygo.“Sodon’tbesorry.It’smyfault,notyours.”
Tessshakesherhead.“Iknowyoudon’tlovemethatway.Don’tyouthinkIknowthatbynow?”Anoteofbitternessentershervoice.“Butyoudon’tknowhowIfeelaboutyou.Noonedoes.”
Igiveheralevellook.“Tellme,then.”“Day,youmeanmoretomethansomecrush.”Herbrowsfurrowasshe
triestoexplainherself.“Whentheentireworldturneditsbackonmeandleftmetodie,youtookmein.Youweretheonepersonwhocaredaboutwhatmighthappentome.Youwereeverything.Everything.Youbecamemyentirefamily—youweremyparentsandmysiblingsandmycaretaker,myonlyfriendandcompanion,youwerebothmyprotectorandsomeonewhoneededprotecting.Yousee?Ididn’tloveyouinthewayyoumight’vethoughtIdid,althoughIcan’tdenythatwaspartofit.ButthewayIfeelgoesbeyondthat.”
Iopenmymouthtoreply,butnothingcomesout.Idon’tknowwhattosay.AllIcandoissee.
Tessletsoutashakybreath.“SowhenIthoughtJunemighttakeyouaway,Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Ifeltlikeshewastakingeverythingthatmatteredtome.IfeltlikeshewastakingawayfromyouallthethingsthatIdidn’thave.”Shelowershereyes.“That’swhyI’msorry.I’msorrybecauseyoushouldn’thavetobeeverythingtome.Ihadyou,butI’dforgottenthatIhadmyselftoo.”ShepausestolookoveratthePatriots,whoaredeepinconversation.“It’sanewfeeling,somethingI’mstillgettingusedto.”
Andjustlikethat,we’rebothkidsagain.Iseetheyoungerus,danglingourfeetovertheedgeofsomebrokenhigh-rise,watchingthesundipeveryeveningbelowtheocean’shorizon.Howmuchwe’veseensincethen,how
farwe’vecome.Ireachovertotaphernoseonce,justlikehowIalwayshave.Shesmiles
forthefirsttime.
***
Thenighthastransitionedintotheearlyhourbeforedawn,andthedrizzleandslushhasfinallypaused,leavingthecityglisteningunderthemoonlight.Theevacuationalarmstillechoeseverynowandthen,andtheJumboTronscontinuetheirominousredwarningtoseekcover,butabrieflullhashitthebattleandtheskiesaren’tfullofjetsandexplosions.Guessbothsideshavetorestuporsomething.Irubthewearinessfrommyeyesandtrytoignoremyheadache—Icouldusesomerest.
“It’snotgonnabeeasy,youknow,”Pascaowhisperstomeaswebothsurveythemorning.“They’reprobablyonthelookoutforRepublicsoldiers.”We’reperchedontopoftheArmor,watchingthefieldjustbeyondthecity’sboundaries.It’snotlikepeopledon’tliveoutsidetheArmor,butunlikeLA,whichisjustonelargespreadofbuildingsthatmeltsrightintoitsneighboringcities,Denver’spopulationissparseroutsidethesafetyofitswalls.Smallclustersofbuildingssithereandthere.Theyseemempty,andIwonderiftheRepublicsawtheColoniesapproachingfromadistanceandevacuatedtheirpeopleinsidetheArmor.AlthoughtheColonies’airshipshavereturnedbacktotheirownlandinordertorefuel,they’veleftabunchofjetsinthefields,andtheareasthey’veoccupiedarewelllitwithfloodlights.I’mkindofshockedbyhowrepulsedIamatthethoughtoftheColoniestakingusover.Ayearago,Iwouldbecheeringatthetopofmygoddylungsforthisexactscenario.ButnowIjustheartheColonies’sloganoverandoverinmyhead.Afreestateisacorporatestate.TheadsIrememberfromtheircitiesmakemeshiver.
It’shardtodecidewhichIprefer,really:watchmybrothergrowupundertheColonies’rule,orwatchhimtakenbackforexperimentationbytheRepublic?
“Yeah,they’llbeonthelookout,”Iagree.ThenIturnawayfromtheArmor’sedgeandstartmakingmywaydownthewall.AlongtheArmor’souteredge,Republicjetslieparked,manned,andready.“Butwe’renotRepublicsoldiers.Iftheycanhituswithasurpriseattack,thensocanwe.”
PascaoandIaredressedexactlyalike,inblackfromheadtotoe,with
maskspulledoverourfaces.Ifitweren’tforalittleheightdifference,Idon’tthinkanyonewouldbeabletotellusapart.
“Youtwoready?”PascaomuttersintohismiketoourHackers.Thenheglancesatmeandgivesathumbs-upsignal.Ifthey’reinplace,thenthatmeansTessisinplacetoo.Staysafe.
WemakeourwaydowntothegroundandthenletseveralRepublicsoldiersguideusaroundtoasmall,discreetundergroundpassage.ItleadsoutsidetheArmorandintodangerousterritory.Thesoldiersnodasilent“goodluck”tousbeforeretreatingbackinside.Ihopetohellthisallworks.
IlookoutatthefieldwhereColoniesjetsareparked.WhenIfirstturnedfifteen,Ihadsetfiretoaseriesoftenbrand-newF-472RepublicfighterjetsparkedattheBurbankairforcebaseinLosAngeles.Itwasthefirststuntthatlandedmeatthetopofthemostwantedlist,andoneofthecrimesJuneherselfactuallymademeconfesstowhenI’dbeenarrested.Ididitbyfirststealinggallonsofhighlyexplosivebluenitroglidefromairforcebases,thenpouringtheliquidintothejets’exhaustnozzlesandacrossthetailendofthejets.Theinstanttheirenginesturnedon,theirtailsexplodedintoflames.
Thememorycomesbacktomeinsharpfocus.ThedesignoftheColoniesjetslooksdifferent,withtheirstrange,forward-sweptwings,butattheendofthedaythey’restilljustmachines.Andthistime,I’mnotworkingalone.I’vegottheRepublic’ssupport.Mostimportantly,I’vegottheirexplosives.
“Readytomakeyourmove?”IwhispertoPascao.“Gotyourbombs?”“YouthinkI’dforgettobringbombs?Youshouldknowmebetterthan
that.”Pascao’svoiceturnstaunting.“Day—nobullthistime.Gotit,prettyboy?Ifyousuddenlythinkyouwannagorogue,yousureashellbettertellmefirst.ThenatleastI’llhavetimetosockyouintheface.”
Ismilealittleatthejab.“Yes,sir.”Ouroutfitsblendusintotheshadows.Wecreepforwardwithouta
sound,untilwe’repasttheshortdistancewheretheArmor’sgunscouldprotectusfromtheground.Nowwe’reoutofrange,andtheColonies’makeshiftairfieldlookswithinreach.Theirsoldiersstandguardalongtheedgesofthefield.Notfarawayareacouplerowsoftanks.Theirairshipsmightnotbehere,buttheresureashellareenoughwarmachinestostartupanotherbattle.
PascaoandIcrouchbehindapileofrubbleneartheairfield.AllIcan
seeinthislightishissilhouette.Henodshisheadoncebeforewhisperingsomethingintohismike.
Wewaitforafewtenseseconds.ThentheJumboTronsthatlinetheouteredgesoftheArmorlightupinunison.DisplayedacrossthescreensisaRepublicflag,andoverthecity’sloudspeakers,thepledgeblaresoutacrossthenight.ThewholethinglooksexactlylikeoneoftheRepublic’stypicalpropagandareels—theJumboTronsstartdisplayinggenericvideosofpatrioticsoldiersandcivilians,warvictoriesandprosperousstreets.Attheairfield,thesoldiers’attentionshiftstotheJumboTrons’feed.Atfirsttheylookalertandwary,butasthereelcontinuesforafewsecondslonger,theColoniessoldiersrelax.
Good.TheythinktheRepublic’sjustbroadcastingmorale-boostingvideo.NothingweirdenoughtoputtheColoniesonhighalert,butsomethingentertainingenoughtoholdtheirinterest.IpickoutanareawherethesoldiersareallwatchingtheJumboTrons,thennodatPascao.Hemotionsatme.Myturntoheadout.
IsquinthardertoseewhereIcansqueezeontotheairfield.TherearefourColoniessoldiershere,allofthemfocusedonthebroadcast;asoldierdressedlikeapilotisthefarthestawayandhashisbacktome,andfromhereitlookslikehe’smakingfunofthebroadcastwithapalofhis.IwaituntilalloftheguardsarelookingawayfromwhereIam.ThenIscamperovertheedgewithoutasoundandhidebehindtheclosestjet’sbacklandingwheel.Ituckmyselfintoatightball,lettingmyblackoutfitblendmeinwiththeshadows.
Oneoftheguardslookscasuallyoverhisshouldertowardthejet.Whenhedoesn’tseeanythinginteresting,though,hereturnstosurveyingtheArmor.
Iwaitforafewmoreseconds.ThenIadjustmybackpackandclimbupinsidethejet’sexhaustnozzle.Myheartpoundswithanticipationatthedéjàvuthisgivesme.Iwastenotimenow—Ipullasmallmetalcubeoutofmypackandattachitfirmlytotheinsideofthenozzle.Itsdisplaypanelgivesoffaveryfaintredglow,sodimIcanbarelyseeit.Imakesureit’ssecure,andthenshifttotheedgeofthenozzle.Wewon’thavemuchlongerbeforetheguardsloseinterestinourlittlepropagandadistraction.Whenthecoast’sclear,Ihopoutofthenozzle.Mycushionedbootslandwithoutasound.Imeltbackintotheshadowscastbythejet’slandinggear,watchforguards,andmovetothenextrowofjets.Pascaoshouldbedoingtheexact
sameworkontheothersideofthefield.Ifthisallgoesdownasplanned,thenoneexplosiveperrowshoulddoplentyofdamage.
BythetimeImakemywaytothethirdrowofjetsandfinishmyworkthere,I’msoakedinsweat.Offinthedistance,theJumboTrons’propagandakeepsrunning,butIcantellthatsomeoftheguardshavealreadylostinterest.Timetogetoutofhere.Ilowermyselfsilentlytowardthegroundagain,danglethereintheshadows,andthenpicktherightmomenttodropandrushtowardthedarkness.
Exceptitwasn’treallytherightmoment.Oneofmyhandsslipsandthemetaledgeoftheexhaustnozzleslicesmypalmopen.Myweakenedbodydoesn’tlandperfectly—Iletoutagruntofpainandmovetooslowlyintothelandinggear’sshadows.Aguardspotsme.BeforeIcanstophim,hiseyeswidenandheliftshisgunatme.
Hehasn’tevenhadachancetoshoutoutwhenashiningknifecomesflyingoutofthedarknessandsinksitselfinthesoldier’sneck.Iwatchforaninstant,horrified.Pascao.Iknowitwashim,savingmyasswhiledrawingattentiontohimself.Alreadyacoupleofshoutshavegoneupontheothersideoftheairfield.He’spullingtheirfocusawayfromme.Iseizetheopportunity,racingintotherelativesafetyofthelandoutsidetheairfield.
IclickmymikeonandcallPascao.“Areyousafe?”Iwhisperurgently.“Safeasyou,prettyboy,”hehissesback,thesoundsofheavybreathing
andfootstepsloudinmyearpiece.“Justgotoutoftheairfield’srange.GiveFrankietheokay—Igottashaketwomoreoffmytail.”Hehangsup.
IcontactFrankie.“We’reready,”Itellher.“Let’emgo.”“Yougotit,”Frankieanswers.TheJumboTronssuddenlystoptheirreel
andgodark—thesoundblastingacrossthecitycutsshort,plungingusallintoaneeriesilence.Coloniessoldierswho’dprobablybeenpursuingPascaonowlookupattheblankJumboTronsinbewilderment,alongwiththeothers.
Afewsecondsofsilencepass.Thenabright,blindingexplosionripsapartthecenteroftheairfield.I
steadymyself.WhenIlookbackatthefirstlineofsoldiersonthestreet,Iseethemknockedofftheirfeetandpickingthemselvesslowlyupinadaze.Sparksofelectricityfilltheair,jumpingfranticallybackandforthbetweenthejets.Soldiersfartherdownthestreetpointtheirgunsupatthebuildings,firingrandomly—buttheonesalongthefrontlinediscoverthat
theirgunsnolongerwork.IkeeprunningbacktowardtheArmor.Anotherexplosionrocksthesameareaandanenormousgoldenhaze
engulfseverythinginsight.ShoutsofpanicrisefromtheColoniestroops.Theycan’tseewhat’shappening,butIknowthatrightnoweachbombwe’dplantedisdestroyingtherowsofjets,bothcripplingthemandtemporarilydisablingthemagnetsintheirguns.Someofthempullouttheirgunsandfirerandomlyintothedarkness,asifRepublicsoldiersarelyinginwait.Iguessthey’renotentirelywrong.Rightoncue,theRepublicjetsalongtheArmortakeoffintothesky.Theirroarsdeafenme.
IswitchmymikebacktoFrankie.“Howaretheevacuationsgoing?”“Assmoothlyaspossible,”shereplies.“Probablytwomorewavesof
peopleleft.Readyforyourbigmoment?”“Goforit,”Iwhisperback.TheJumboTronsflaretolife.Thistime,though,they’redisplayingmy
paintedfaceonalloftheirscreens.Aprerecordedvideowemade.IsmilewidelyfortheColonies,evenastheyscrambletowhatjetstheystillhave,andinthisinstant,IfeellikeI’mlookingintothefaceofastranger,afacethat’sunfamiliarandterrifyingbehinditswideblackstripe.Foramoment,Ican’tevenrememberrecordingthisvideointhefirstplace.Thethoughtmakesmescrambleforthememoryinapanic,untilIfinallyrecallitandbreatheasighofrelief.“MynameisDay,”myJumboTronvideoselfsays,“andI’mfightingfortheRepublic’speople.IfIwereyou,I’dbealittlemorecareful.”
Frankiecutsmyfeedagain.Overhead,theRepublic’sjetsscreamacrossthesky—Iseeorangefireballslightuptheairfield.Withourstuntandhalftheirjetsgone,andtheadvantageofsurprise,theColoniessoldiersscrambleforaretreat.Ibetthecallsgoingbacktotheircommandareflyingfastandfuriousnow.
Frankiecomesbackonline.Shesoundselated.“TheRepublic’stroopshavegottenwindofoursuccess,”shesays.Inthebackground,Ihear—tomyrelief—Pascao’slineclickontoo.“Nicejob,Runners.GioroandBaxterarealreadyontheirway.”Shesoundsdistracted.“We’reheadingbackinnow.Gimmeafewseconds,andwe’llbe—”
Shecutsoff.Iblink,surprised.“Frankie?”Isay,reconnectingtoher.Nothing.AllIhearisstatic.
“Where’dshego?”Pascaosaysthroughthewhitenoise.“Didshegoofflineforyoutoo?”
“Yeah.”Iscrambleonward,tryingnottothinktheworst.ThesafetyoftheArmorisn’tfaraway—Icanmakeoutthetinysideentrancewe’resupposedtoreturnthrough—andhere,inthemidstofallthechaos,IseeseveralRepublicsoldiersrushingthroughthedusttofaceoffagainstanyColoniestroopsthatmighthavefollowedus.Justafewyardsfromthedoornow.
Abulletsparkspastme,narrowlymissingmyear.ThenIhearascreamthatmakesmybloodruncold.WhenIwhirlaround,IseeTessandFrankierunningbehindme.They’releaningoneachother.BehindthemmustbefiveorsixColoniessoldiers.Ifreeze,thenquicklychangecourse.IyankaknifefrommybeltandthrowitatthesoldiersashardasIcan.Itcatchesoneofthemcleanintheside—hedropstohisknees.Theothersnoticeme.TessandFrankiebarelymakeittothedoor.Idashtowardthem.Behindme,thesoldiershoisttheirguns.
JustasTesspushesFrankiethroughtheentrance,asoldierstepsoutoftheshadowsnearthedoor.Irecognizehiminstantly.It’sThomas,agundanglingfromonehand.
HiseyesarefixedonTessandme,andhisexpressionisdark,deadly,andfurious.Foraninstant,theworldseemstogosilent.Iglanceathisgun.Hehoistsit.No.Instinctively,ImovetowardTess,shieldingherwithmybody.He’sgoingtokillus.
Butevenasthisthoughtracesthroughmymind,Thomasturnshisbackonus,facingtheoncomingColoniessoldiersinstead.Hishandquiverswithrageandtightensonthegun.Shockpulsesthroughme,butthere’snotimetothinkaboutthatnow.“Go,”IurgeTess.Westumblethroughthesidedoor.
Inthatsamemoment,Thomasraiseshisgun—hefiresoneshot,thenanother,thenanother.Heletsoutabloodcurdlingyellaseachbullethurtlestowardtheenemytroops.Ittakesmeasecondtomakeoutwhathe’sscreaming.
“LonglivetheElector!LonglivetheRepublic!”HemanagessixshotsbeforetheColoniessoldiersreturnfire.IhugTess
tomychest,thencoverhereyes.Sheletsoutacryofprotest.“Don’tlook,”Iwhisperinherear.Atthatverymoment,IseeThomas’sheadsnapviolentlybackandhisentirebodygolimp.Animageofmymotherflashesbeforemyeyes.
Shotthroughthehead.He’sbeenshotthroughthehead.Deathbyfiring
squad.TheblastmakesTessjump—sheuttersastrangledsobbehindmy
shieldinghands.Thedoorswingsshut.Pascaogreetsustheinstantwe’resafelythrough.He’scoveredheadto
toeindust,buthestillhasahalfgrinonhisface.“Thefinalevacuationwaveiswaitingforus,”hesays,noddingtowardtwoparkedjeepsreadytotakeusbacktothebunker.Republicsoldiershavealreadystartedtowardus,butbeforeanyofuscanfeelrelieved,InoticethatFrankiehascollapsedtothegroundandTessishoveringoverher.Pascao’shalfgrinvanishes.Assoldierssealoffthesideentrance,wegatheraroundFrankie.Tesspullsoutakitofsupplies.Frankiehasstartedtoconvulse.
Hercoat’sstrippedcompletelyoff,revealingablood-soakedshirtbeneath.Hereyesareopenwideinshock,andshe’sstrugglingtobreathe.
“Shewasshotasweweregettingaway,”TesssaysasshetearsawaytheclothofFrankie’sshirt.Sweatbeadsalongherbrow.“Threeorfourtimes.”HertremblinghandsflyacrossFrankie’sbody,scatteringpowderandpressingointmentintothewounds.Whenshe’sdone,sheyanksoutathickwadofbandages.
“She’snotgonnamakeit,”PascaomutterstoTessasshepusheshimoutofthewayandpushesfirmlydownononeofFrankie’sgushingwounds.“Wehavetomove.Now.”
Tesswipesherbrow.“Justgivemeanotherminute,”sheinsiststhroughgrittedteeth.“Wehavetocontrolthebleeding.”
Pascaostartstoprotest,butIsilencehimwithadangerouslook.“Letherdoit.”ThenIkneelbesideTess,myeyeshelplesslydrawntoFrankie’spitifulfigure.Icantellthatshe’snotgoingtomakeit.“I’lldowhateveryousay,”ImurmurtoTess.“Letushelp.”
“Keeppressureonherwounds,”Tessreplies,wavingahandatthebandagesthatarealreadymoreredthanwhite.Sherushestomakeapoultice.
Frankie’seyelidsflutter.Shechokesoutastrangledcry,thenmanagestolookupatus.“You’ve—got—togo.TheColonies—they’re—coming—”
Ittakesawholeminuteforhertodie.Tesskeepsapplyingmedsforawhilelonger,untilIfinallyputahandoverherstostopher.IlookupatPascao.OneoftheRepublicsoldiersapproachesusagainandgivesusasternfrown.“Thisisyourfinalwarning,”hesays,gesturingtowardtheopendoorsoftwojeeps.“We’reheadingout.”
“Go,”ItellPascao.“We’lltakethejeeprightbehindyou.”Pascaohesitatesforasecond,strickenatthesightofFrankie,butthen
hopstohisfeetanddisappearsintothefirstjeep.Ittearsaway,leavingacloudofdustinitswake.
“Comeon,”IurgeTess,whostayshunchedoverFrankie’slifelessbody.OntheothersideoftheArmor,thesoundsofbattlerage.“Wehavetogo.”
Tesswrenchesfreeofmygraspandflingsherrollofbandageshardatthewall.ThensheturnstolookbackatFrankie’sashenface.Istandup,forcingTesstodothesame.Mybloodyhandleavesprintsonherarm.Soldiersgrabbothofusandleadustowardtheremainingjeep.Aswefinallymakeourwayinside,Tessturnshereyesuptomine.They’rebrimmingwithtears,andthesightofheranguishbreaksmyheart.WepullawayfromtheArmorassoldiersloadFrankieontoatruck.Thenweturnacornerandspeedtowardthebunker.
Bythetimewearrive,Pascao’sjeephasalreadyunloadedandthey’veheadeddowntothetrain.Thesoldiersaretense.Astheyclearuspastthebunkerentrance’schain-linkfence,anotherexplosionfromtheArmorsendstremorsthroughtheground.Asifinadream,werushdownthemetalstaircaseandthroughthecorridorsfloodedwithdimredlights,thesoundofpoundingbootsechoingdullyfromoutside.Fartherandfartherdownwego,untilwefinallyreachthebunkerandmakeourwayontothewaitingtrain.Soldierspullusonboard.
Asthesubwayflarestolifeandwepullawayfromthebunker,aseriesofexplosionsreverberatethroughthespace,nearlyknockingusoffourfeet.Tessclingstome.AsIholdherclose,thetunnelbehinduscollapses,encasingusindarkness.Wespeedalong.Echoesoftheexplosionsringthroughtheearth.
Myheadacheflaresup.Pascaotriestosaysomethingtome,butIcannolongerhearhim.I
can’thearanything.Theworldaroundmedullsintograys,andIfeelmyselfspinning.Whereareweagain?Somewhere,Tessscreamsoutmyname—butIdon’tknowwhatshesaysafterthat,becauseIlosemyselfinanoceanofpainandcollapseintoblackness.
2100HOURS.ROOM3323,LEVELINFINITYHOTEL,ROSSCITY.
ALLOFUSHAVESETTLEDINTOOURINDIVIDUALHOTELrooms.Ollie’srestingatthefootofmybed,completelyknockedoutafteranexhaustingday.Ican’timaginefallingasleep,though.Afterawhile,Igetupquietly,leavethreetreatsforOllienearthedoor,andstepout.Iwanderthehallswithmyvirtualglassestuckedintomypocket,relievedtoseetheworldasitreallyisagainwithouttheonslaughtofhoveringnumbersandwords.Idon’tknowwhereI’mgoing,buteventuallyIenduptwofloorshigherandnotfarfromAnden’sroom.It’squieteruphere.Andenmightbetheonlyonestayingonthisfloor,alongwithafewguards.
AsIgo,Ipassadoorthatleadsintoalargechamberthatmustbesomepublic,centralroomonthisfloor.Iturnbackandpeerinside.Theplacelookswhitewashed,probablybecauseIdon’thavemyvirtualglassesonandcan’tseeallthesimulations;theroomispartitionedintoaseriesoftallcylinder-likebooths,eachoneacircleoftall,transparentslabsofglass.Interesting.Ihaveoneofthosecylinderboothsinacornerofmyhotelroom,althoughIhaven’tbotheredtryingityet.Ilookaroundthehall,thenpushgingerlyonthedoor.Itslidesopenwithoutasound.
Istepinsideandassoonasthedoorslidesshutbehindme,theroomdeclaressomethinginAntarcticanthatIcan’tunderstand.Itakemyvirtualglassesoutofmypocketandputthemon.Automatically,theroom’svoicebrightensandrepeatsherphrase,thistimeinEnglish.“Welcometothesimulationroom,JuneIparis.”Iseemyvirtualscoregoupbytenpoints,congratulatingmeforusingasimulationroomfortheveryfirsttime.JustasIsuspected,theroomnowlooksbrightandfullofcolors,andtheglasswallsofthecylindricalroomshaveallsortsofmovingdisplaysonthem.
Youraccesstotheportalawayfromhome!onepanelsays.Usein
conjunctionwithyourvirtualglassesforafullyimmersiveexperience.Behindthetextisalushvideodepictingwhatlooklikebeautifulscenesfromaroundtheworld.IwonderwhethertheirportalistheirwayofconnectingtotheInternet.Suddenly,myinterestpiques.I’veneverbrowsedtheInternetoutsideoftheRepublic,neverseentheworldforwhatitwaswithouttheRepublic’smasksandfilters.Iapproachoneoftheglasscylinderboothsandstepinside.Theglassaroundmelightsup.
“Hello,June,”itsays.“WhatcanIfindforyou?”WhatshouldIlookup?Idecidetotryoutthefirstthingthatpopsintomy
head.Ihesitantlyreply,wonderingwhetherit’lljustreadmyvoice.“DanielAltanWing,”Isay.HowmuchdoestherestoftheworldknowaboutDay?
Suddenlyeverythingaroundmevanishes.Instead,I’mstandinginawhitecirclewithhundreds—thousands—ofhoveringrectangularscreensallaroundme,eachonecoveredwithimagesandvideosandtext.AtfirstIdon’tknowwhattodo,soIjuststaywhereIam,staringinwonderattheimagesallaroundme.EachscreenhasdifferentinfoonDay.Manyofthemarenewsarticles.TheoneclosesttomeisplayinganoldvideoofDaystandingontopoftheCapitolTowerbalcony,rousingthepeopletosupportAnden.WhenIlookatitlongenough(threeseconds),avoicestartstalking.“Inthisvideo,DanielAltanWing—alsoknownasDay—giveshissupporttotheRepublic’snewElectorandpreventsanationaluprising.Source:TheRepublicofAmerica’spublicarchives.Seewholearticle?”
Myeyesflickertoanotherscreen,andthevoicefromthefirstscreenfades.ThissecondscreencomestolifeasIlookon,playingavideointerviewingsomegirlIdon’tknow,withlightbrownskinandpalehazeleyes.Shesportsascarletstreakinherhair.Shesays,“I’velivedinNairobiforthepastfiveyears,butwe’dneverheardofhimuntilvideosofhisstrikesagainsttheR-oh-Astartedpoppinguponline.NowIbelongtoaclub—”Thevideopausesthere,andthesamesoothingvoicefromearliersays,“Source:KenyaBroadcastingCorporation.Seewholevideo?”
Itakeacarefulstepforward.EachtimeImove,therectangularscreensrearrangearoundmetoshowcasethenextcircleofimagesformetoperuse.ImagesofDaypopupfromwhenheandIwerestillworkingforthePatriots—IseeoneblurryimageofDaylookingoverhisshoulder,asmirkonhislips.Itmakesmeblush,soIquicklyglanceaway.Ilookthroughtwomoreroundsofthem,thendecidetochangemysearch.ThistimeIsearchforsomethingI’vealwaysbeencuriousabout.“TheUnitedStatesofAmerica,”Isay.
ThescreenswithvideosandimagesofDayvanish,leavingmestrangelydisappointed.Anewsetofscreensflipuparoundme,andIcanalmostfeelaslightbreezeastheyshiftintoplace.ThefirstthingthatpopsupisanimagethatIinstantlyrecognizeasthefullflagthatthePatriotsbothuseandbasetheirsymbolon.Thevoiceoversays,“TheflagoftheformerUnitedStatesofAmerica.Source:Wikiversity,theFreeAcademy.UnitedStatesHistoryOne-oh-two,GradeEleven.Seefullentry?Fortextualversion,say‘Text.’”
“Seefullentry,”Isay.Thescreenzoomsintowardme,engulfingmeinitscontents.Iblink,momentarilythrownoffbytherushingimages.WhenIopenmyeyesagain,Inearlystumble.I’mhoveringintheskyoveralandscapethatlooksbothfamiliarandstrange.TheoutlineofitappearstobesomeversionofNorthAmerica,exceptthere’snolakestretchingfromLosAngelestoSanFrancisco,andtheColonies’territorylooksmuchlargerthanIremember.Cloudsfloatbybelowmyfeet.WhenIreachahesitantfootdown,Ismudgepartofthecloudsandcanactuallyfeelthecoolairwhistlingbeneathmyshoes.
Thevoiceoverbegins.“TheUnitedStatesofAmerica—alsoknownastheUSA,theUnitedStates,theUS,America,andtheStates—wasaprominentcountryinNorthAmericacomposedoffiftystatesheldtogetherasafederalconstitutionalrepublic.ItfirstdeclaredindependencefromEnglandonJuly4,1776,andbecamerecognizedonSeptember3,1783.TheUnitedStatesunofficiallysplitintotwocountriesonOctober1,2054andofficiallybecamethewesternRepublicofAmericaandtheeasternColoniesofAmericaonMarch14,2055.”
Herethevoiceoverpauses,thenshifts.“Skiptoasubtopic?Popularsubtopics:theThree-YearFlood,theFloodof2046,theRepublicofAmerica,theColoniesofAmerica.”
AseriesofbrightbluemarkersappearoverthewestandeastcoastsofNorthAmerica.Istareatthemforamoment,myheartpounding,beforeIreachoutandtrytotouchamarkernearthesoutherncoastlineoftheColonies.Tomysurprise,Icanfeelthetextureofthelandscapeundermyfinger.“TheColoniesofAmerica,”Isay.
Theworldrushesupatmewithdizzyingspeed.I’mnowstandingonwhatfeelslikesolidground,andallaroundmearethousandsofpeoplehuddledtogetherinmakeshiftsheltersinafloodedcityscape,whilehundredsarelaunchinganall-outattackagainstsoldiersdeckedoutinuniformsIdon’trecognize.Behindthesoldiersarecratesandsacksofwhatlooklikerations.
“UnliketheRepublicofAmerica,”thevoiceoverstarts,“wherethe
governmentenforcedrulethroughmartiallawinordertocrackdownontheinfluxofrefugeesintoitsborders,theColoniesofAmericaformedonMarch14,2055aftercorporationsseizedcontrolofthefederalgovernment(theformerUnitedStates,seehigherindex)followingthelatter’sfailuretohandledebtaccumulatedfromtheFloodof2046.”Itakeafewstepsforward—it’sasifI’mrighthereinthemiddleofthescene,standingjustafewdozenfeetfromwherethepeoplearerioting.Mysurroundingslookshakyandpixelated,asifrenderedfromsomeone’spersonalvideos.“Inthiscivilianrecording,thecityofAtlantastagesafifteen-dayriotagainsttheUnitedStatesFederalEmergencyManagementAgency.Similarriotsappearedinalleasterncitiesoverthecourseofthreemonths,afterwhichthecitiesdeclaredloyaltytothemilitarycorporationDesCon,whichpossessedfundsthebeleagueredgovernmentdidnot.”
Thesceneblursandclears,placingmeinthecenterofanenormouscampusfullofbuildings,eachdisplayingasymbolIrecognizeastheDesConlogo.“Alongwithtwelveothercorporations,DesConcontributeditsfundstoaidthecivilians.Byearly2058,theUnitedStatesgovernmentceasedtoexistaltogetherintheeastandwasreplacedwiththeColoniesofAmerica,formedbyacoalitionofthecountry’stopthirteencorporationsandbolsteredbytheirjointprofits.Afteraseriesofmergers,theColoniesofAmericanowconsistsoffourrulingcorporations:DesCon,Cloud,Meditech,andEvergreen.Skiptoaspecificcorporation?”
Istaysilent,watchingtherestoftheimmersivevideounfolduntilitfinallypausesonthelastframe,anunsettlingimageofadesperatecivilianshieldinghisfacefromasoldier’shoistedgun.ThenIremovemyvirtualglasses,rubmyeyes,andstepoutofthenow-blankandsterile-lookingglasscylinder.Myfootstepsechointheemptychamber.Ifeeldizzyandnumbfromthesuddenlackofmovingimages.
Howcantwocountrieswithsuchradicallydifferentphilosophieseverreunite?WhathopedowepossiblyhaveoftransformingtheRepublicandtheColoniesintowhattheyoncewere?Orperhapsthey’renotasdrasticallydifferentasIthinktheyare.Aren’ttheColonies’corporationsandtheRepublic’sgovernmentreallythesamething?Absolutepowerisabsolutepower,nomatterwhatit’scalled.Isn’tit?
Iexitthechamber,lostinthought,andasIturnthecornertoheadtomyroom,IalmostbumprightintoAnden.
“June?”heblurtsoutwhenheseesme.Hiswavyhairisslightlydisheveled,
asifhe’sbeenrakinghishandsthroughit,andhiscollarshirtiscrumpled,hissleevesrolleduptohiselbowsandthebuttonsnearhisneckundone.Hemanagestocomposehimselfenoughtooffermeasmileandabow.“Whatareyoudoinguphere?”
“Justexploring.”Ireturnhissmile.I’mtootiredtomentionallmyonlineresearch.“I’mnotsurewhatI’mdoinghere,tobehonest.”
Andenlaughssoftly.“Meeither.I’vebeenwanderingthehallsforoveranhour.”Wepauseforamoment.Thenheturnsbackinthedirectionofhissuiteandgivesmeaquestioninglook.“TheAntarcticanswon’thelpus,butthey’vebeenkindenoughtosendabottleoftheirbestwineuptomyroom.Caretohaveasip?Icouldusesomecompany—andsomeadvice.”
AdvicefromhislowliestPrinceps-Elect?Ifallintostepwithhim,alltooawareoftheclosenessbetweenus.“Howverypoliteofthem,”Ireply.
“Exceedinglypolite,”hemurmursunderhisbreathsothatIcanbarelyhearhim.“Nextthey’llbethrowingusaparade.”
Anden’ssuiteisnicer,ofcourse,thanmyown—atleasttheAntarcticansdidhimthatcourtesy.Acurvedglasswindowrunsalonghalfofthewall,givingusabreathtakingviewofRossCityengulfedinthousandsoftwinklinglights.TheAntarcticansmustbesimulatingthisnightfalltoo,consideringhowit’ssupposedtobesummerdownhere—butthesimulationseemsflawless.Ithinkbackonthedome-likefilmwepassedthroughaswedescendedintothecity.Maybeitactslikeagiantscreentoo.Streaksdancequietlyacrosstheskyinsheetsofbreathtakingcolor,turquoiseandmagentaandgold,allofthemswirlingtogetherandvanishingandreappearingagainstabackdropofstars.Icatchmybreath.Mustbeimitatingtheauroraaustralis.I’dreadaboutthesesouthernlightsduringourweeklylessons,althoughIhadn’texpectedthemtolookthisbeautiful,simulationornot.
“Niceview,”Isay.Andengrinswryly,asmallsparkofamusementshiningthroughhis
otherwisewearymood.“TheuselessadvantagesofbeingtheRepublic’sElector,”hereplies.“I’vebeenreassuredthatwecanseethroughthisglass,butthatnoonefromoutsidecanseeus.Thenagain,perhapsthey’rejustmessingwithme.”
Wesettleintosoftchairsnearthewindow.Andenpoursusbothglassesofwine.“OneoftheaccusedguardsconfessedaboutCommanderJameson,”hesaysashehandsaglasstome.“Republicsoldiersunhappywithmyrule,paidoffbytheColonies.TheColoniesistakingadvantageofCommanderJameson’s
knowledgeofourmilitary.Shemightevenstillbewithinourborders.”Isipmywinenumbly.So,itwasalltrue.IdesperatelywishIcouldgoback
intimetowhenI’dvisitedThomasinhiscell,thatIcouldhavenoticedtheunusualsetupintime.Andshecouldstillbewithinourborders.WhereisThomas?
“Restassured,”Andensayswhenheseesmyexpression,“thatwe’redoingeverythingwecantofindher.”
Everythingwecanmightnotbeenough.Notwithourattentionandsoldiersspreadoutsothin,tryingtofightawaronsomanysides.“Whatdowedonow?”
“WereturntotheRepublictomorrowmorning,”hereplies.“That’swhatwedo.Andwe’llpushtheColoniesbackwithouttheAntarcticans’help.”
“Areyoureallygoingtogiveupsomeofourlandtothem?”Iaskafterapause.
Andenswirlsthewineinhisglassbeforetakingasip.“Ihaven’tturnedthemdownyet,”hesays.Icanhearthedisgustwithhimselfinhisvoice.Hisfathermust’veseensuchamoveastheultimatebetrayalofhiscountry.
“I’msorry,”Isayquietly,unsurehowtoconsolehim.“I’msorrytoo.ThegoodnewsisI’vereceivedwordthatDayandhisbrother
havebothsuccessfullyevacuatedtoLosAngeles.”Heexhalesalongbreath.“Idon’twanttoforcehimintoanything,butImightberunningoutofoptions.He’skeepinghisword,youknow.He’dagreedtohelpusinanywayhecould,shortofgivinguphisbrother.He’stryingtohelp,inthehopesthatit’llguiltmeoutofaskingforEden.Iwishwe’dbroughthim.Iwishhecouldseethesituationfrommypointofview.”Helooksdown.
MyheartsqueezesagainatthethoughtofDaybeingkilledinaction,andsettlesinreliefatthenewsthathehassurvivedunscathed.“WhatifwepersuadetheAntarcticanstotakeDayinforhistreatment?Itmightbehisonlychanceatsurvivinghisillness,anditmightatleastmakehimconsidertheriskoflettingEdenundergoexperimentation.”
Andenshakeshishead.“Wehavenothingtobargainwith.Antarcticahasofferedasmuchhelptousasthey’rewilling.Theywon’ttroublethemselveswithtakinginoneofourpatients.”
Deepdown,Iknowthistoo.It’sjustafinal,desperateideafromme.Iunderstand,aswellashedoes,thatDaywouldneverhandoverhisbrotherinexchangeforsavinghisownlife.Myeyeswanderbacktothedisplayoflightoutside.
“Idon’tblamehim,notatall,”Andensaysafterapause.“IshouldhavestoppedthosebioweaponstheinstanttheynamedmeElector.Theverysamedaymyfatherdied.IfIweresmart,that’swhatIwould’vedone.Butit’stoolatetodwellonthatnow.Dayhaseveryrighttorefuse.”
Ifeelaswellofsympathyforhim.IfheforcefullytakesEdenintocustody,Daywillnodoubtcallthepeopletoriseupinrevolt.IfherespectsDay’sdecision,herisksnotfindingacureintimeandallowingtheColoniestotakeoverourcapital—andourcountry.IfhehandsoverapieceofourlandtoAntarctica,thepeoplemayseehimasatraitor.Andifourportsaresealed,wewon’tbereceivinganyimportsorsuppliesatall.
Andyet,Ican’tblameDayeither.Itrytoputmyselfinhisshoes.TheRepublictriestokillmeasaten-year-old;theyexperimentonmebeforeIescape.IlivethenextfewyearsintheharshestslumsofLosAngeles.IwatchtheRepublicpoisonmyfamily,killmymotherandolderbrother,andblindmyyoungerbrotherwiththeirengineeredplagues.BecauseoftheRepublic’sexperiments,I’mslowlydying.Andnow,afteralltheliesandcruelty,theRepublicapproachesme,beggingformyhelp.Beggingformetoallowthemtoexperimentonceagainonmyyoungerbrother,experimentsthatcan’tguaranteehisabsolutesafety.WhatwouldIsay?Iwouldprobablyrefuse,justashedid.It’struethatmyownfamilysufferedhorriblefatesatthehandsoftheRepublic...butDayhadbeenonthefrontlines,watchingeverythingunfoldfromthetimehewassmall.It’samiraclethatDayhadgivenhissupporttoAndeninthefirstplace.
AndenandIsipwineforfourmoreminutes,watchingthecitylightsinsilence.
“IenvyDay,youknow,”hesays,hisvoiceassoftasever.“I’mjealousthathegetstomakedecisionswithhisheart.Everychoicehemakesishonest,andthepeoplelovehimforit.Hecanaffordtousehisheart.”Hisfacedarkens.“ButtheworldoutsideoftheRepublicissomuchmorecomplicated.There’sjustnoroomforemotion,isthere?Allofourcountries’relationsareheldtogetherwithafragilewebofdiplomaticthreads,andthesethreadsarewhatpreventusfromhelpingoneanother.”
Something’sbrokeninhisvoice.“There’snoroomforemotiononthepoliticalstage,”Ireply,puttingmywineglassdown.I’mnotsureifI’mhelping,butthewordscomeoutanyway.Idon’tevenknowifIbelievethem.“Whenemotionfails,logicwillsaveyou.YoumightenvyDay,butyou’llneverbehimandhe’llneverbeyou.Heisn’ttheRepublic’sElector.He’saboyprotectinghis
brother.Youareapolitician.Youhavetomakedecisionsthatbreakyourheart,thathurtanddeceive,thatnooneelsewillunderstand.It’syourduty.”EvenasIsaythis,though,Ifeelthedoubtinthebackofmymind,theseedsthatDayhasplanted.
Withoutemotion,what’sthepointofbeinghuman?Anden’seyesareheavywithsadness.Heslouches,andforamomentIcan
seehimashereallyis,ayoungrulerstandingaloneagainstatideofoppositionandattemptingtobeartheburdenofhiscountryonhisownshoulders,withaSenatecooperatingonlyoutoffear.“Imissmyfathersometimes,”hesays.“IknowIshouldn’tadmitthat,butit’strue.Iknowtherestoftheworldseeshimasamonster.”Heputshiswineglassdownonthesidetable,thenburieshisheadinhishandsandrubshisfaceonce.
Myheartachesforhim.AtleastIcangrieveformybrotherwithoutfearofothers’hatred.Whatmustitbeliketoknowthattheparentyouoncelovedwasresponsibleforsuchevilacts?
“Don’tfeelguiltyforyourgrief,”Isaysoftly.“Hewasstillyourfather.”Hisgazecomestorestonme,andasifpulledbysomeinvisiblehand,he
leansforward.Hewaversthere,hoveringprecariouslybetweendesireandreason.Heissoclosenow,closeenoughthatifIweretomoveevenalittle,ourlipsmightbrushagainsteachother.Ifeelhisbreathfaintlyagainstmyskin,thewarmthofhisnearness,thequietgentlenessofhislove.Inthismoment,Ifeelmyselfdrawntohim.
“June...,”hewhispers.Hiseyesdanceacrossmyface.Thenhetouchesmychinwithonehand,coaxesmeforward,andkissesme.Iclosemyeyes.Ishouldstophim,butIdon’twantto.Thereissomething
electrifyingaboutthebarepassionintheyoungElectoroftheRepublic,thewayheleansintome,hisdesireexposedevenbeneathhisunfailingpoliteness.Howheopenshisheartfornoonebutme.Howinspiteofeverythingworkingagainsthim,hestillhasthestrengthtostepouteverydaywithhischinupandhisbackstraight.Howhesoldierson,forthesakeofhiscountry.Asdoweall.Iletmyselfsuccumb.Hebreaksawayfrommylipstokissmycheek.Thenthesoftlineofmyjaw,rightundermyear.Thenmyneck,justthesoftestwhisperofatouch.Ashiversweepsthroughme.Icanfeelhimholdingback,andIknowthatwhathereallywantstodoistolacehisfingersthroughmyhairanddrownhimselfinme.
Buthedoesn’t.Heknows,asmuchasIdo,thatthisisn’treal.Ihavetostop.Andwithapainedeffort,Ipullaway.Istruggletocatchmy
breath.“I’msorry,”Iwhisper.“Ican’t.”Andenlooksdown,embarrassed.Butnotsurprised.Hischeeksflushafaint
pinkinthedimlightoftheroom,andherunsahandthroughhishair.“Ishouldn’thavedonethat,”hemurmurs.Wefallsilentforafewuncomfortableseconds,untilAndensighsandleansallthewayback.Islouchalittle,bothdisappointedandrelieved.“I...knowyoucaredeeplyforDay.IknowIcan’thopetocompetewiththat.”Hegrimaces.“Thatwasinappropriateofme.Myapologies,June.”
Ihaveafleetingurgetokisshimagain,totellhimthatIdocare,andtoerasethepainandshameonhisfacethattugsatmyheart.ButIalsoknowIdon’tlovehim,andIcan’tleadhimonlikethis.IknowtherealreasonwewentsofaristhatIcouldn’tbeartoturnhimawayinhisdarkestmoment.ThatIwished,deepdown...heweresomeoneelse.Thetruthfillsmewithguilt.“Ishouldgo,”Isaysadly.
Andenmovesfartherfromme.Heseemsmorealonethanever.Still,hecomposeshimselfandbowshisheadrespectfully.Hismomentofweaknesshaspassed,andhisusualpolitenesstakesover.Asalways,hehideshispainwell.Thenhestandsupandholdsahandouttome.“I’llwalkyoubacktoyourroom.Getsomerest—we’llleaveintheearlymorning.”
Istandtoo,butIdon’ttakehishand.“It’sfine.Icanfindmyownwayback.”Iavoidmeetinghiseyes;Idon’twanttoseehoweverythingIsayonlyhurtshimmore.ThenIturntowardthedoorandleavehimbehind.
OlliegreetsmewithawaggingtailwhenIreturntomyroom.Afterapettingsession,IdecidetotryouttheInternetportalinmyroomwhilehecurlsupnearbyandfallspromptlyasleep.IrunasearchonAnden,aswellasonhisfather.Myroom’sportalisasimplifiedversionoftheportalsIusedearlier,withoutinteractivetexturesandimmersivesoundsattached,butit’sstillmilesbeyondanythingI’veseenintheRepublic.Isiftquietlythroughthesearchresults.MostarestagedphotosandpropagandavideosthatIrecognize—Andenhavinghisportraitdoneasayoungboy,theformerElectorstandinginfrontofAndenatofficialpresseventsandmeetings.Eventheinternationalcommunityseemstohavelittleinformationontherelationshipbetweenfatherandson.ButthedeeperIdig,themoreIstumbleacrossmomentsofsomethingsurprisinglygenuine.IseeavideoofAndenasafour-year-old,holdinghissalutewithasolemnyoungfacewhilehisfatherpatientlyshowshimhow.IfindaphotoofthelateElectorholdingacrying,frightenedAndeninhisarmsandwhisperingsomethingintohisear,oblivioustothecrowdthatsurroundsthem.Iseeaclipof
himangrilyshovingtheinternationalpressawayfromhissmallson,ofhimclutchingAnden’shandsotightlythathisknuckleshaveturnedwhite.IstumbleacrossarareinterviewbetweenhimandareporterfromAfrica,whoaskshimwhathecaresaboutthemostintheRepublic.
“Myson,”thelateElectoranswerswithouthesitation.Hisexpressionneversoftens,buttheedgesofhisvoiceshiftslightly.“Mysonwillalwaysbeeverythingtome,becausesomedayhewillbeeverythingtotheRepublic.”Hepausesforasecondtosmileatthereporter.Insidethatsmile,IthinkIseeglimpsesofadifferentmanwhoonceexisted.“Myson...remindsme.”
***
Wehadinitiallyplannedtoreturntothecapitalthenextmorning—butthenewscomesjustasweboardourjetinRossCity.Itcomesearlierthanwethoughtitwould.
DenverhasfallentotheColonies.
“DAY.WE’REHERE.”IopenmyeyesgroggilytothegentlesoundofTess’svoice.Shesmiles
downatme.There’spressureonmyhead,andwhenIreachuptotouchmyhair,Irealizethatbandagesarewrappedaroundmyforehead.Mycuthandisalsonowcoveredincleanwhitelinen.IttakesmeanothersecondtonoticethatI’msittinginawheelchair.
“Oh,comeon,”Iimmediatelyblurtout.“Agoddywheelchair?”Myheadfeelsfoggyandlight,thefamiliarsensationofcomingoffadoseofpainkillers.“Wherearewe?Whathappenedtome?”
“You’llprobablyneedtostopatahospitalwhenwegetoffthetrain.Theythinkallthecommotiontriggeredabadresponseinyou.”Tesswalksbesidemeassomesoldierpushesmedownthelengthofthetraincar.Upahead,IseePascaoandtheotherPatriotsgettingoffthetrain.“We’reinLosAngeles.We’rebackhome.”
“WhereareEdenandLucy?”Iask.“Doyouknow?”“They’vealreadysettledintoyourtemporaryapartmentinRuby
sector,”Tessreplies.She’squietforasecond.“Guessagemsector’syourhomenow.”
Home.Ifallsilentasweexitthetrainandstreamoutontotheplatformwiththeothersoldiers.LosAngelesfeelsaswarmasever,atypicalhazydayinlatefall,andtheyellowishlightmakesmesquint.Thewheelchairfeelssoforeignandannoying.Ihaveasuddenurgetoboltoutofitandkickitontothetracks.IamaRunner—I’mnotsupposedtobestuckinthiscrackedthing.Anotherbadresponse,thistimetriggeredbycommotion?IgritmyteethathowweakI’vebecome.Thedoctor’slastprognosishauntsme.Amonth,maybetwo.Thefrequencyofsevereheadacheshasdefinitelybeenincreasing.
Thesoldiershelpmeintoajeep.Beforeweleave,Tessreachesthroughmyopencarwindowandgivesmeaquickhug.Thesuddenwarmthfrom
herstartlesme.AllIcandoishugherback,savoringthebriefmoment.WestareateachotheruntilthejeepfinallypullsawayfromthestationandTess’sfiguredisappearsaroundabend.Eventhen,IkeepturningaroundinmyseattoseeifIcanspother.
Westopatanintersection.Aswewaitforagroupofevacueestocrossinfrontofourjeep,IstudythestreetsofdowntownLosAngeles.Somethingsappearunchanged:Linesofsoldiersbarkordersatunrulyrefugees;otherciviliansstandonthesidelinesandprotesttheinfluxofnewpeople;theJumboTronscontinuetoflashencouragingmessagesoftheRepublic’sso-calledvictoriesonthewarfront,remindingpeople:Don’tlettheColoniesconqueryourhome!Supportthecause!
MyconversationwithEdenreplaysinmymind.Iblink,thenlookcloseratthestreets.Thistime,thescenesI’dthought
werefamiliartakeonnewcontext.Thelinesofsoldiersbarkingordersareactuallyhandingoutrationstothenewrefugees.Theciviliansprotestingthenewpeopleareactuallybeingallowedtoprotest—soldierslookon,buttheirgunsstaytuckedawayattheirbelts.AndtheJumboTrons’propaganda,onceimagesthatlookedsoominoustome,nowseemlikemessagesofoptimism,abroadcastofhopeindarktimes,adesperateattempttokeeppeople’sspiritsup.Notfarfromwhereourjeep’sstopped,Iseeacrowdofchildrenevacueessurroundingayoungsoldier.He’sknelttotheireyelevel,andinhishandsissomesortofpuppettoythathe’snowusinganimatedlytotellthekidsastory.Irollmywindowdown.Hisvoiceisclearandupbeat.Nowandthen,thechildrenlaugh,theirfearandconfusionmomentarilyheldatbay.Nearby,theparentslookonwithfacesbothexhaustedandgrateful.
ThepeopleandtheRepublic...areworkingtogether.Ifrownattheunfamiliarthought.There’snoquestionthattheRepublic
hasdonesomehorriblethingstousall,thattheymightstillbedoingthosethings.But...maybeI’vealsobeenseeingthethingsIwanttosee.MaybenowthattheoldElectorisgone,theRepublic’ssoldiershavestartedtoshedtheirmaskstoo.MaybetheyreallyarefollowingAnden’slead.
ThejeeptakesmefirsttoseetheapartmentwhereEden’sstaying.Herushesouttogreetmewhenwepullup,allunhappinessfromourpreviousargumentgone.“Theysaidyoucausedabunchoftroubleoutthere,”hesaysasheandLucyjoinmeinthejeep.Adisapprovinglookcreepsontohisface.“Don’teverscaremelikethatagain.”
Igivehimawrysmileandrufflehishair.“NowyouknowhowIfeelaboutyourdecision.”
BythetimeweendupoutsidetheLosAngelesCentralHospital,wordofourarrivalhasspreadlikewildfireandahugecrowdiswaitingformyjeep.They’rescreaming,crying,chanting—andittakestwopatrolsofsoldierstoformenoughofawalkwayforthemtousherusinsidethehospital.IstarenumblyatthepeopleasIpassby.Alotofthemhavethescarletstreakintheirhair,whileothersholdupsigns.Theyshoutoutthesamething.
SAVEUS.Ilookawaynervously.They’veallseenandheardaboutwhatIdidwith
thePatriotsinDenver.ButI’mnotsomeinvinciblesuper-soldier—I’madyingboywho’sabouttobestuck,helpless,inthehospitalwhileanenemytakesoverourcountry.
Edenleansovermywheelchair’shandlebars.Eventhoughhedoesn’tsayaword,Itakeonelookathissolemnfaceandknowexactlywhat’srunningthroughhismind.Thethoughtsendsterrortricklingdownmyspine.
Icansavethem,mylittlebrother’sthinking.Letmesavethem.Oncewe’reinsidethehospitalandthesoldiersbarthedoors,theywheel
meuptothethird-floorrooms.There,Edenwaitsoutsidewhiledoctorsstrapabunchofmetalnodesandwirestome.Theyrunabrainscan.Finally,theyletmerest.Throughoutitall,myheadthrobscontinuously,sometimessomuchthatIfeellikeI’mmovingeventhoughI’mlyingdownonabed.Nursescomeinandgivemesomesortofinjection.Acoupleofhourslater,whenI’mstrongenoughtositup,apairofdoctorscometoseeme.
“Whatisit?”Iaskbeforetheycanspeakup.“DoIhavethreedaysleft?What’sthedeal?”
“Don’tworry,”oneofthem—theyounger,moreinexperiencedone—assuresme.“Youstillhaveacoupleofmonths.Yourprognosishasn’tchanged.”
“Oh,”Ireply.Well,that’sarelief.Theolderdoctorscratchesuncomfortablyathisbeard.“Youcanstill
movearoundanddonormalactivities—whateverthoseare,”hegrumbles,“butdon’tstrainyourself.Asforyourtreatments...”Hepauseshere,then
peersatmefromthetopofhisglasses.“We’regoingtotrysomemoreradicaldrugs,”thedoctorcontinueswithanawkwardexpression.“Butletmebeclear,Day—ourgreatestenemyistime.Wearefightinghardtoprepareyouforaveryriskysurgery,butthetimethatyourmedicationneedsmaybelongerthanthetimeyouhaveleft.There’sonlysomuchwecando.”
“Whatcanwedo?”Iask.Thedoctornodsatthedrippingfluidbaghangingnexttome.“Ifyou
makeitthroughthefullcourse,youmightbereadyforsurgeryafewmonthsfromnow.”
Ilowermyhead.DoIhaveafewmonthsleft?They’resureashellcuttingitclose.“So,”Imutter,“Imightbedeadbythetimethesurgerycomesaround.OrtheremightnotbeaRepublicleft.”
Mylastcommentdrainsthebloodfromthedoctor’sface.Hedoesn’trespond,buthedoesn’tneedto.Nowondertheotherdoctorshadwarnedmetogetmyaffairsinorder.Eveninthebestofcircumstances,Imightnotpullthroughintime.ButImightactuallylivelongenoughtoseetheRepublicfall.Thethoughtmakesmeshudder.
TheonlywayAntarcticawillhelpisifweprovideproofofacureagainstthisplague,givethemareasontocallintheirtroopstostoptheColonies’invasion.AndtheonlywaytodothatistoletEdengivehimselfovertotheRepublic.
***
Themedicineknocksmeout,andit’safulldaybeforeIcomearound.Whenthedoctorsaren’tthere,Itestmylegsbytakingshortwalksaroundmyroom.Ifeelstrongenoughtogowithoutawheelchair.Still,IstumblewhenItrytostretchtoothinandspringfromoneendoftheroomtotheother.Nope.Isighinfrustration,thenpullmyselfbackintobed.Myeyesshifttoascreenonthewall,wherefootagefromDenverisplaying.IcantellthattheRepubliciscarefulabouthowmuchofittheyshow.I’dseenfirsthandhowitlookedwhentheColonies’troopsstartedrollingin,butonthescreenthereareonlyfarawayshotsofthecity.TheviewercanjustseesmokerisingfromseveralbuildingsandtheominousrowofColoniesairshipshoveringneartheedgeoftheArmor.ThenitcutstofootageofRepublicjetsliningupontheairfield,preparingtolaunchintobattle.For
once,I’mgladthatthepropaganda’sinplace.There’sjustnopointinscaringthehelloutofthewholecountry.MightaswellshowthattheRepublic’sfightingback.
Ican’tstopthinkingaboutFrankie’slifelessface.OrthewayThomas’sheadsnappedbackwhentheColoniessoldiersshothim.Iwinceasitreplaysinmymind.Iwaitinsilenceforanotherhalfhour,watchingasthescreen’sfootagechangesfromtheDenverbattletoheadlinesabouthowI’dhelpedslowdowntheinvadingColoniestroops.Morepeopleareinthestreetsnow,withtheirscarletstreaksandhandmadesigns.TheyreallythinkI’mmakingadifference.Irubahandacrossmyface.Theydon’tunderstandthatI’mjustaboy—I’dnevermeanttogetinvolvedsodeeplyinanyofthis.WithoutthePatriots,June,orAnden,Icouldn’thavedoneanything.I’muselessonmyown.
Staticsuddenlyblaresoutofmyearpiece;anincomingcall.Ijump.Then,anunfamiliarmalevoiceinmyear:“Mr.Wing,”themansays.“Ipresumeit’syou?”
Iscowl.“Who’sthis?”“Mr.Wing,”themansays,addingaflourishofcrackedexcitementthat
sendsachilldownmyspine.“ThisistheChancelloroftheColonies.Pleasedtomakeyouracquaintance.”
TheChancellor?Iswallowhard.Yeah,right.“Isthissomesortofjoke?”Isnapintothemike.“Somehackerkid—”
“Comenow.Thiswouldn’tbeaveryfunnyjoke,nowwouldit?”Ididn’tknowtheColoniescouldaccessourearpiecestreamsandmake
callslikethis.Ifrown,thenlowermyvoice.“How’dyougetin?”AretheColonieswinninginDenver?Didthecityfallalready,rightafterwefinishedevacuatingit?
“Ihavemyways,”themanreplies,hisvoicedeadcalm.“Itseemsthatsomeofyourpeoplehavedefectedtoourside.Ican’tsayIblamethem.”
SomeoneintheRepublicmusthavegivenupinfototheColoniestoallowthemtouseourdatastreamslikethis.SuddenlymythoughtsrushbacktothejobI’ddonewiththePatriots,wheretheColoniessoldiershadshotThomasinthehead—theimagesendsaviolentshudderthroughme,andIforcemyselftopushitaway.CommanderJameson.
“IhopeI’mnotinconveniencingyou,”theChancellorsaysbeforeIcanrespond,“givenyourconditionandsuch.AndI’msureyoumustbefeelingabittiredafteryourlittleescapadeinDenver.I’mimpressed,Imustsay.”
Idon’trespondtothat.Iwonderwhatelseheknows—whetherheknowswhichhospitalI’mcurrentlylyingin...orworse,whereournewapartmentis,whereEden’sstaying.“Whatdoyouwant?”Ifinallywhisper.
IcanpracticallyheartheChancellor’ssmileovermyearpiece.“I’dhatetowasteyourtime,solet’sgettothemeatofthisconversation.IrealizethattheRepublic’scurrentElectoristhisyoungAndenStavropoulosfellow.”Histoneiscondescending.“Butcomenow,bothyouandIknowwhoreallyrunsyourcountry.Andthat’syou.Thepeopleloveyou,Day.WhenmytroopsfirstwentintoDenver,doyouknowwhattheytoldme?‘ThecivilianshaveplasteredpostersofDayonthewalls.Theywanttoseehimbackonthescreens.’Theyhavebeenverystubborntocooperatewithmymen,andit’sasurprisinglytiresomeprocesstogetthemtocomply.”
Myangerslowlyburns.“Leavetheciviliansoutofit,”Isaythroughaclenchedjaw.“Theydidn’taskforyoutobargeintotheirhomes.”
“Butyouforget,”theChancellorsaysinacoaxingvoice.“YourRepublichasdonetheexactsamethingtothemfordecades—didn’ttheydoittoyourownfamily?WeareinvadingtheRepublicbecauseofwhattheydidtous.Thisvirusthey’vesentacrosstheborder.Exactlywheredoyourloyaltieslie,andwhy?Anddoyourealize,myboy,howincredibleyourpositionisatyourage,howyouhaveyourfingeronthepulseofthisnation?Howmuchpoweryouhold—”
“Yourpoint,Chancellor?”“Iknowyou’redying.Ialsoknowyouhaveayoungerbrotherwhoyou
wouldlovetoseegrowup.”“YoubringEdenintothisagain,andthisconversation’sover.”“Verywell.Justbearwithme.IntheColonies,MeditechCorphandles
allofourhospitalsandtreatments,andIcanguaranteeyoutheywoulddoamuchfinerjobdealingwithyourcasethananythingtheRepubliccanoffer.Sohere’sthedeal.Youcanslowlywhittleawaywhatever’sleftofyourlife,stayingloyaltoacountrythat’snotloyaltoyou—oryoucandosomethingforus.YoucanpubliclyasktheRepublic’speopletoaccepttheColonies,andhelpthiscountryfallundertheruleofsomethingbetter.Youcangettreatmentinaqualityplace.Wouldn’tthatbenice?Surelyyoudeservemorethanwhatyou’regetting.”
Ascornfullaughforcesitswayoutofme.“Yeah,right.Youexpectmetobelievethat?”
“Wellnow,”theChancellorsays,tryingtosoundamused,butthistimeI
detectdarknessinhiswords.“Icanseethisisalosingargument.IfyouchoosetofightfortheRepublic,I’llrespectthatdecision.Ionlyhopethatthebestwillhappenforyouandyourbrother,evenafterweestablishourplacefirmlyintheRepublic.ButI’mabusinessman,Day,andIliketoworkwithaPlanBinmind.So,letmeaskyouthisinstead.”Hepausesforasecond.“ThePrinceps-ElectJuneIparis.Doyouloveher?”
Anicyclawgripsmychest.“Why?”“Well.”TheChancellorletshisvoiceturnsomber.“Youhavetoseethis
situationfrommypointofview,”hesaysgently.“TheColonieswillwin,inevitably,atthisrate.Ms.Iparisisoneofthepeoplesittingattheheartofthelosinggovernment.Now,son,Iwantyoutothinkaboutthis.Whatdoyousupposehappenstotherulinggovernmentonthelosingsideofawar?”
Myhandstremble.Thisisathoughtthathasfloatedinthedarkrecessesofmymind,somethingI’verefusedtothinkabout.Untilnow.“Areyouthreateningher?”Iwhisper.
TheChancellortsksindisapprovalatmytone.“I’monlybeingreasonable.Whatdoyouthinkwillhappentoheroncewedeclarevictory?DoyoureallythinkwewillletliveagirlwhoisontracktobecometheleaderoftheRepublic’sSenate?Thisishowallcivilizednationswork,Day,andit’sbeenthatwayforcenturies.Formillennia.Afterall,I’msureyourElectorexecutedthosewhostoodagainsthim.Didn’the?”Istaysilent.“Ms.Iparis,alongwiththeElectorandhisSenate,willbetriedandexecuted.Thatiswhathappenstoalosinggovernmentinawar,Day.”Hisvoiceturnsserious.“Ifyoudon’tcooperatewithus,thenyoumighthavetolivewiththeirbloodonyourhands.Butifyoudocooperate,Imightfindawaytopardonthemoftheirwarcrimes.Andwhat’smore,”headds,“youcanhaveallthecomfortsofaqualitylife.Youwon’tneedtoworryforyourfamily’ssafetyeveragain.Youwon’thavetoworryfortheRepublic’speopleeither.Theydon’tknowanybetter;thecommonfolkneverknowwhat’sgoodforthem.ButyouandIdo,don’twe?Youknowthey’rebetteroffwithouttheRepublic’srule.Sometimestheyjustdon’tunderstandtheirchoices—theyneedtheirdecisionsmadeforthem.Afterall,youchosetomanipulatethepeopleyourselfwhenyouwantedthemtoacceptyournewElector.AmIcorrect?”
Triedandexecuted.June,gone.Dreadingthepossibilityisonething;hearingitspelledouttomeandthenusingittoblackmailmeisanother.Mymindspinsfranticallyforwaystheycouldescapeinstead,tofindasylumin
anothercountry.MaybetheAntarcticanscankeepJuneandtheothersoverseasandprotectedincasetheColoniesoverrunthecountry.Theremustbeaway.But...whatabouttherestofus?What’stostoptheColoniesfromharmingmybrother?
“HowdoIknowyou’llkeepyourword?”Ifinallymanagetocroak.“Toshowyoumygenuinenature,IgiveyoumywordthattheColonies
haveceasedtheirattacksasofthismorning,andIwillnotresumethemforthreedays.Ifyouagreetomyproposition,youjustguaranteedthesafetyoftheRepublic’speople...andofyourlovedones.So,letthechoicebeyours.”TheChancellorlaughsalittle.“AndIrecommendthatyoukeepourconversationtoyourself.”
“I’llthinkaboutit,”Iwhisper.“Wonderful.”TheChancellor’svoicebrightens.“LikeIsaid,assoonas
possible.Afterthreedays,I’llexpecttohearbackfromyouonmakingapublicannouncementtotheRepublic.Thiscanbethestartofaveryfruitfulrelationship.Timeisoftheessence—Iknowyouunderstandthismorethananyone.”
Thenthecallends.Thesilenceisdeafening.Isitinthethickofourconversationforawhile,soakingitin.Thoughtsrunendlesslythroughmymind...Eden,June,theRepublic,theElector.Theirbloodonyourhands.Thefrustrationandfearbubblinginsidemychestthreatenstodrownmeinitstide.TheChancellor’ssmart,I’llgivehimthat—heknowsexactlywhatmyweaknessesareandhe’sgoingtotrytousethemtohisadvantage.Buttwocanplayatthis.IhavetowarnJune—andI’llhavetodoitquietly.IftheColoniesfindoutthatI’vepassedthewordalonginsteadofkeepingmymouthshutanddoingastheChancellorsays,thenwhoknowswhattrickstheymighttrytopull.Butmaybewecanusethistoouradvantage.Mymindwhirls.MaybewecanfooltheChancellorathisowngame.
Suddenly,ashriekechoesfromthehallwayoutsidethatraiseseveryhaironmyskin.Iturnmyheadinthesound’sdirection.Somebody’scomingdownthecorridoragainstherwill—whoeveritismustbeputtingupaprettydamngoodfight.
“I’mnotinfected,”thevoiceprotests.Itgrowslouderuntilit’srightoutsidemydoor,thenfadesasthesoundsofthevoiceandgurneywheelstravelfartherdownthehall.Irecognizethevoicerightaway.“Runyourtestsagain.It’snothing.I’mnotinfected.”
EventhoughIdon’tknowexactlywhat’sgoingon,I’minstantlysureof
onething—thesicknessspreadingthroughtheColonieshasanewvictim.Tess.
FORTHEFIRSTTIMEINTHEREPUBLIC’SHISTORY,THEREisnocapitaltolandin.
WetouchdownatanairfieldlocatedonthesouthernedgeofDrakeUniversityat1600hours,notaquartermileawayfromwhereIusedtoattendallofmyRepublicHistoryclasses.Theafternoonisdisconcertinglysunny.Hasitreallybeenlessthanayearsinceeverythinghappened?Aswestepofftheplaneandwaitforourluggagetounload,Ilookaroundinadullstupor.Thecampus,bothnostalgicandstrangetome,isemptierthanIremember—manyoftheseniors,Ihear,havebeenpushedthroughgraduationearlyinordertosendthemofftothewarfronttofightfortheRepublic’ssurvival.IwalkinsilencethroughthecampusstreetsafewstepsbehindAnden,whileMarianaandSerge,aspartoftheirSenatornature,keepupasteadystreamofchatterwiththeirotherwisequietElector.Olliestaysclosetomyside,thehacklesuponhisneck.ThemainDrakequad,normallycrowdedwithpassingstudents,isnowhometopocketsofrefugeesbroughtoverfromDenverandafewneighboringcities.Anunfamiliar,eeriesight.
BythetimewereachaseriesofjeepswaitingforusandbegintravelingthroughBatallasector,InoticethevariousthingsthroughoutLAthathavechanged.EvacuationcentershavepoppedupwhereBatallasectormeetsBlueridge,wherethemilitarybuildingsgivewaytocivilianhigh-rises,andmanyoftheolder,half-abandonedbuildingsalongthispoorsectorhavebeenhastilyconvertedintoevacuationcenters.LargecrowdsofdisheveledDenverrefugeescrowdtheentrances,allhopingtobeluckyenoughtogetaroomassignment.Oneglancetellsmethat,naturally,thepeoplewaitinghereareprobablyallfromDenver’spoorsectors.
“Whereareweplacingtheupper-classfamilies?”IaskAnden.“Inagemsector,I’msure?”Ifinditdifficultnowtosaysomethinglikethiswithoutasharpedgeinmyvoice.
Andenlooksunhappy,buthecalmlyanswers,“InRuby.You,Mariana,andSergewillallhaveapartmentsthere.”Hereadsmyexpression.“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking.ButIcan’taffordtohaveourwealthyfamiliesrevoltingagainstmeforforcingthemintoevacuationcentersinthepoorsectors.IdidsetanumberofspacesinRubytobeallocatedforthepoor—they’llbeassignedtothemonalotterysystem.”
Idon’tanswer,simplybecauseIhavenothingtoargueagainst.Whatistheretodoaboutthissituation?It’snotlikeAndencanuproottheentirecountry’sinfrastructureinthespanofayear.AsIlookonthroughthewindow,agrowinggroupofprotestersgathersalongtheedgeofaguardedrefugeezone.MOVETOTHEOUTSKIRTS!oneoftheirsignssays.KEEPTHEMQUARANTINED!
Thesightsendsashiverdownmyspine.Itdoesn’tseemsodifferentfromwhathadhappenedintheRepublic’searlyyears,whenthewestprotestedthepeoplefleeinginfromtheeast.
Werideinsilenceforawhile.Then,suddenly,Andenpresseshishandagainsthisearandmotionstothedriver.“Turnonthescreen,”hetellshim,gesturingtothesmallmonitorembeddedintothejeep’sseats.“GeneralMarshallsaystheColoniesarebroadcastingsomethingontoourtwelfthchannel.”
Weallwatchasthemonitorcomestolife.Atfirstweonlyseeablank,blackscreen,butthenthebroadcastcomesin,andIlookonastheColoniessloganandsealappearoveranoscillatingColoniesflag.
THECOLONIESOFAMERICACLOUD.MEDITECH.DESCON.EVERGREENAFREESTATEISACORPORATESTATEThen,aneveninglandscapeofabeautiful,sparklingcitycomesup,
completelycoveredinthousandsoftwinklingbluelights.“CitizensoftheRepublic,”agrandiosevoicesays.“WelcometotheColoniesofAmerica.Asmanyofyoualreadyknow,theColonieshaveoverruntheRepubliccapitalofDenverand,assuch,havedeclaredanunofficialvictoryoverthetyrannicalregimethathaskeptyouallunderitsthumb.Afteroverahundredyearsofsuffering,youarenowfree.”Thelandscapechangestoatop-downmapofboththeRepublicandtheColonies—exceptthistime,thelinedividingthetwonationsisgone.Ashiverrunsdownmyspine.“Intheweekstocome,youwillallbeintegratedintooursystemoffaircompetitionandfreedom.YouareacitizenoftheColonies.Whatdoesthatmean,youmightwonder?”
Thevoiceoverpauses,andtheimageryshiftstoahappyfamilyholdingacheckinfrontofthem.“Asanewcitizen,eachofyouwillbeentitledtoatleastfivethousandColoniesNotes,equivalenttosixtythousandRepublicNotes,grantedfromoneofourfourmaincorpsthatyoudecidetoworkfor.Thehigheryourcurrentincome,thehigherwe’llpayyou.YouwillnolongeranswertotheRepublic’sstreetpolicebuttoDesCon’scitypatrols,yourownprivateneighborhoodpolicededicatedtoservingyou.YouremployerwillnolongerbetheRepublic,butoneofourfourdistinguishedcorps,whereyoucanapplyforafulfillingcareer.”Thevideoshiftsagaintoscenesofhappyworkers,proud,smilingfaceshoveringoversuitsandties.“Weofferyou,citizens,thefreedomofchoice.”
Thefreedomofchoice.ImagesflashthroughmymindofwhatI’dseenintheColonieswhenDayandIfirstventuredintotheirterritory.Thecrowdsofworkers,thedilapidatedslumsofthepoor.Theadvertisementsprintedalloverthepeople’sclothes.Thecommercialsthatcoveredeverysquareinchofthebuildings.Mostofall,DesCon’spolice,thewaytheyhadrefusedtohelptherobbedwomanwhohadmissedherpaymentstotheirdepartment.IsthisthefutureoftheRepublic?AndsuddenlyIfeelnauseous,becauseIcannotsaywhetherthepeoplewouldbebetteroffintheRepublicortheColonies.
Thebroadcastcontinues.“Weonlyaskthatyoureturnasmallfavortous.”Thevideoshiftsagain,thistimetoasceneofpeopleprotestinginsolidarity.“Ifyou,asacivilian,havegrievanceswiththeRepublic,nowisthetimetovoicethem.Ifyouarecourageousenoughtostageproteststhroughoutyourrespectivecities,theColonieswillpayyouanadditionalfivethousandColoniesNotes,aswellasgrantyouaone-yeardiscountonallofourCloudCorpgrocerygoods.SimplysendyourproofofparticipationtoanyDesConheadquartersinDenver,Colorado,alongwithyournameandmailingaddress.”
So,thisexplainsthevariousprotestspoppinguparoundthecity.Eventheirpropagandasoundslikeanadvertisement.Adangerouslytemptingone.“Declaringvictoryalittletoosoon,”Isayundermybreath.
“They’retryingtoturnthepeopleagainstus,”Andenmurmursinreply.“Theyannouncedaceasefirethismorning,perhapsasachancetodisseminatepropagandalikethis.”
“Idoubtitwillbeeffective,”Isay,althoughIdon’tsoundasconfidentasIshould.Alltheseyearsofanti-ColoniespropagandaaregoingtobedifficultfortheColoniestoworkaround.Aren’tthey?
Anden’sjeepfinallyslowstoahalt.Ifrown,confusedforasecond.Instead
oftakingmebacktoahigh-riseformytemporaryapartment,wearenowparkedinfrontoftheLosAngelesCentralHospital.TheplacewhereMetiasdied.IglanceatAnden.“Whatarewedoinghere?”Iask.
“Day’shere,”Andenreplies.HisvoicecatchesalittlewhenhespeaksDay’sname.
“Why?”Andendoesn’tlookatme.Heseemsreluctanttodiscussit.“Hecollapsed
duringtheevacuationtoLA,”heexplains.“Theseriesofexplosionsweusedtoknockouttheundergroundtunnelsapparentlytriggeredoneofhissevereheadaches.Thedoctorshavestartedanotherroundoftreatmentforhim.”Andenpauses,thengivesmeagravestare.“There’sanotherreasonwe’rehere.Butyou’llseeforyourself.”
Thejeepcomestoahalt.Iclimbout,thenwaitforAnden.Afeelingofdreadslowlycreepsthroughme.WhatifDay’sillnesshasgottenworse?Whatifheisn’tgoingtopullthrough?Isthatwhyhe’shere?There’snoreasonforDaytoeversetfootinsidethisbuildingagain,notunlesshewasforcedto,notaftereverythingthishospitalputhimthrough.
Together,AndenandIheadintothebuildingwithsoldiersflankingus.Wetraveluptothefourthfloor,whereoneofthesoldiersswipesusinside,andthenstepintotheCentralHospital’slabfloor.Thetensefeelinginmystomachonlytightensaswego.
Finally,westopinfrontofasmallerseriesofroomsthatlinethesideofthemainlabfloor.Aswegothroughoneofthesedoors,IseeDay.He’sstandingoutsidearoomwithglasswalls,smokingoneofhisbluecigarettesandlookingonassomeoneinsidegetsinspectedbylabtechniciansinfullbodysuits.Whatmakesmelosemybreath,though,isthathe’sleaningheavilyonapairofcrutches.Howlonghashebeenhere?Helooksexhausted,pale,anddistant.Iwonderwhatnewdrugsthedoctorsaretryingonhim.Thethoughtisasudden,stabbingreminderofDay’swaninglife,thefewsecondshehasleft,slowlytickingby.
Standingbesidehimareafewlabtechswithwhitejumpsuitgearandgogglesdanglingfromtheirnecks,eachofthemwatchingtheroomandtypingawayontheirnotepads.Ashortdistanceaway,Pascao’sdeepinconversationwiththeotherPatriots.TheyleaveDayalone.
“Day?”Isayasweapproach.Helooksovertome—adozenemotionsflickerthroughhiseyes,somethat
makemycheeksflush.ThenhenoticesAnden.HemanagestogivetheElectora
stiffbowofhishead,thenturnsbacktowatchingthepatientontheothersideoftheglass.Tess.
“What’sgoingon?”IaskDay.Hetakesanotherpuffofhiscigaretteandlowershiseyes.“Theywon’tlet
mein.Theythinkshemight’vecomedownwithwhateverthisnewplagueis,”hesays.Hisvoiceisquiet,butIcanhearanundercurrentoffrustrationandanger.“They’vealreadyruntestsonmeandtheotherPatriots.Tessistheonlyonewhodidn’tcomeupclean.”
Tessbatsawayoneofthelabtechs’hands,thenstumblesbackwardasifshe’shavingtroublekeepingherbalance.Sweatformsonherforeheadanddripsdownherneck.Thewhitesofhereyeshaveasicklyyellowtinttothem,andwhenIlookclosely,Icantellthatshe’ssquintinginanefforttoseeeverythingaroundher—somethingthatremindsmeofhernearsightedness,thewaysheusedtosquintatthestreetsofLake.Herhandsaretrembling.Iswallowhardatthesight.ThePatriotscouldn’thavebeenexposedforlongtotheColoniessoldiers,butapparentlyitwaslongenoughforsomesoldiercarryingthevirustopassittooneofthem.It’salsoaveryrealpossibilitythattheColoniesarepurposefullyspreadingthediseaserightbacktous,nowthatthey’reinourterritory.MyinsidesturncoldasIrememberalinefromMetias’soldjournals:Onedaywe’llcreateavirusthatnoonewillbeabletostop.AndthatjustmightbringaboutthedownfalloftheentireRepublic.
Oneofthelabtechsturnstomeandoffersaquickexplanation.“Theviruslookslikeamutationofoneofourpastplagueexperiments,”shesays,shootingDayanervousglance(hemusthavegivenherahardtimeaboutthisearlier)beforecontinuing.“AsfaraswecantellfromthestatisticstheColonieshavereleased,thevirusseemstohavealowuptakerateamonghealthyadults,butwhenitdoesinfectsomeone,thediseaseprogressesrapidlyandthefatalityrateisveryhigh.We’reseeinginfection-to-deathtimesofaboutaweek.”SheturnsmomentarilytoTessontheothersideoftheglass.“She’sshowingsomeearlysymptoms—fever,dizziness,jaundice,andthesymptomthatpointsustooneofourownmanufacturedviruses,temporaryorpossiblypermanentblindness.”
Besideme,Dayclencheshiscrutchessohardthathisknuckleslookwhite.Knowinghim,Iwonderwhetherhe’salreadyhadseveralfightswiththelabtechs,tryingtoforcehiswayintoseeherorscreamatthemtoleaveheralone.IknowhemustbepicturingEdenrightnow,withhispurple,half-blindeyes,andinthismomentadeephatredfortheformerRepublicfillsmychest.Myfatherhadworkedbehindthoseexperimentallabdoors.Hehadtriedtoquitoncehe
foundoutwhattheywereactuallydoingwithallthoselocalLAplagues,andhegavehislifeasaresult.Isthatcountryreallybehindusnow?Canourreputationeverchangeintheeyesoftheoutsideworld—oroftheColonies?
“ShetriedtosaveFrankie,”Daywhispers,hiseyesstillfixedonTess.“She’dmadeitbackinsidetheArmorrightafterwedid.IthoughtThomaswasgoingtokillher.”Hisvoiceturnsbitter.“Butmaybeshe’salreadymarkedfordeath.”
“Thomas?”Iwhisper.“Thomasisdead,”hemurmurs.“WhenPascaoandIwerefleeingtothe
Armor,IsawhimstandandfacetheColoniessoldiersalone.Hekeptfiringatthemuntiltheyshothiminthehead.”Heflinchesatthisfinalsentence.
Thomasisdead.Iblinktwice,suddenlynumbfromheadtotoe.Ishouldn’tbeshocked.Why
amIshocked?Iwaspreparedforthis.Thesoldierwhohadstabbedmybrotherthroughtheheart,whohadshotDay’smother...he’sgone.Andofcoursehewouldhavediedinthisway—defendingtheRepublicuntiltheend,unwaveringinhisinsaneloyaltytoastatethathadalreadyturnedherbackonhim.IalsounderstandrightawaywhythishasaffectedDaysomuch.Shotthroughthehead.Ifeelemptyatthenews.Exhausted.Numb.Myshoulderssag.
“It’sforthebest,”Ifinallywhisperthroughthelumpinmythroat.ImagesflashthroughmyheadofMetias,andofwhatThomashadtoldmeabouthislastnightalive.IforcemythoughtsbacktoTess.Totheliving,andthosewhostillmatter.“Tessisgoingtobeokay,”Isay.Mywordssoundunconvincing.“Wejusthavetofindaway.”
ThelabtechsinsidetheglassroomstickalongneedleintoTess’srightarm,thenherleft.Sheletsoutachokedsob.Daytearshiseyesawayfromthescene,adjustshisgriponhiscrutches,andbeginstomakehiswaytowardus.Ashepassesme,hewhispers,“Tonight.”Thenheleavestherestofusbehindandheadsdownthehall.
Iwatchhimgoinsilence.Andensighs,lookssadlytowardTess,andjoinstheotherlabtechs.“AreyousureDayisclean?”hesaystotheonewho’dsharedthevirusinformationwithus.Sheconfirmsit,andAndennodsatherinapproval.“Iwantasecondcheckrunonallofoursoldiersimmediately.”HeturnstooneoftheotherSenators.“ThenIwantamessagesentrightawaytotheColonies’Chancellor,aswellastheirDesConCEO.Let’sseewhetherdiplomacycangetusanywhere.”
Finally,Andengivesmealonglook.“IknowIhavenorighttoaskthisof
you,”hesays.“ButifyoucanfinditinyourhearttoaskDayagainabouthisbrother,Iwouldbegrateful.WemightstillhaveachancewithAntarctica.”
1930HOURS.RUBYSECTOR.73°F.
Thehigh-riseI’mstayinginisjustafewblocksawayfromwhereMetiasandIusedtolive.AsthejeepI’mridinginapproachesit,Ilookdownthestreetandtrytocatchaglimpseofmyoldapartmentcomplex.EvenRubysectorisnowblockedoffwithsegmentsoftapeindicatingwhichareasareforevacuees,andsoldierslinethestreets.IwonderwhereAnden’sstayinginthemidstofallthismess;probablysomewhereinBatallasector.He’lldefinitelybeuplatetonight.BeforeI’dleftformyassignedapartment,hehadtakenmeasideinthelabhall.Hiseyesflickeredunconsciouslytomylipsandthenbackupagain.IknewhewasdwellingonthebriefmomentwesharedinRossCity,aswellasthewordsthathadcomeafterit.IknowyoucaredeeplyforDay.
“June,”hesaidafteranawkwardpause.“We’remeetingwiththeSenatetomorrowmorningtodiscusswhatournextstepsshouldbe.Iwanttogiveyoutheheads-upthatthiswillbeaconferencewhereeachofthePrinceps-Electswilldeliversomewordstothegroup.It’sachancetoexperiencewhateachofyouwoulddoifyouweretheofficialPrinceps—butbewarned,thingsmaygetheated.”Hesmiledalittle.“Thiswarhasleftusallonedge,toputitlightly.”
I’dwantedtotellhimthatIwouldsitthisoneout.AnothermeetingwiththeSenators—anotherfour-hour-longsessionoflisteningtofortytalkingheadsallbattlingtooutdooneanother,allattemptingtoeitherswayAndentotheirsideorembarrasshiminfrontoftheothers.NodoubtMarianaandSergewillleadtheargumentstoseewhichofthemcancomeacrossasthebetterPrincepscandidate.Themereideaofitdrainsmeofallmyremainingstrength.Butatthesametime,thethoughtofleavingAndentoshouldertheburdenaloneinaroomfullofpeoplewhoweresocoldanddistantwastoohardtobear.SoIsmiledandbowedtohim,likeagoodPrinceps-Elect.“I’llbethere,”Ireplied.
Nowthejeeppullsuptomyassignedcomplexandstops,andIpushthememoryoutofmymind.IgetoutofthejeepwithOllie,thenwatchitgountilitturnsacorneranddisappearscompletelyfromsight.Iheadinsidethehigh-rise.
IinitiallyplantostopbyDay’sroomrightaftersettlingintomyown,tosee
whathemeantbyhis“tonight”comment.ButasIreachmyhall,IseethatIdon’thaveto.
Dayiscampedoutsidemydoor,sittingslouchedagainstthewallandabsentlysmokingabluecigarette.Hiscrutchesarelyingidlybesidehim.Eventhoughhe’snotmoving,somesmallpieceofhismanner—wild,careless,defiant—stillshinesthrough,andforaninstantIflashbacktowhenI’dfirstmethimonthestreets,withhisbrightblueeyesandquicksilvermovementsandunrulyblondhair.ThatnostalgicimageissosweetthatIsuddenlyfeelmyeyeswatering.Itakeadeepbreathandwillmyselfnottocry.
Hepullshimselftohisfeetwhenheseesmeattheendofthehall.“June,”hesaysasIapproach.Ollietrotsovertogreethim,andhepatsmydogonceonthehead.Hestilllooksexhausted,butmanagestogivemealopsided,ifsad,grin.Withouthiscrutches,heswaysonhisfeet.Hiseyesareheavywithanguish,andIknowit’sbecauseofourearlierstintinthelab.“Fromthelookonyourface,I’mguessingtheAntarcticansweren’tmuchhelp.”
Ishakemyhead,thenunlockmydoorandinvitehiminside.“Notreally,”IreplyasIclosethedoorbehindme.Myeyesinstinctivelystudytheroom,memorizingitslayout.Itresemblesmyoldhomealittletoocloselyforcomfort.“They’vecontactedtheUnitedNationsabouttheplague.They’regoingtosealoffallofourportstotraffic.Noimportsorexports—noaid,nosupplies.We’reallunderquarantinenow.They’vetoldusthattheycanhelpusoutonlyafterweshowthemproofofacure,orifAndenhandsoverachunkofRepubliclandtothemaspayment.Untilthen,theywon’tsendanytroops.AllIknownowisthatthey’remonitoringoursituationprettyclosely.”
Daysaysnothing.Instead,hewandersawayfrommeandstandsontheroom’sbalcony.Heleansagainsttherailing.IputoutsomefoodandwaterforOllie,thenjoinhim.Thesunsetawhileago,butwiththeglowfromthecitylights,wecanseethelow-lyingcloudsthatblockthestars,coveringtheskyinshadesofgrayandblack.InoticehowheavilyDayhastoleanontherailingtosupporthimself,andI’mtemptedtoaskhimhowhe’sfeeling.Buttheexpressiononhisfacestopsme.Heprobablydoesn’twanttotalkaboutit.
“So,”hesaysafteranotherpuffonhiscigarette.ThelightfromdistantJumboTronspaintsaglowinglineofblueandpurplearoundhisface.Hiseyesskimacrossthebuildings,andIknowhe’sinstinctivelyanalyzinghowhewouldruneachoneofthem.“Guesswe’reonourownnow.Can’tsayI’mallthatupsetaboutit,though.TheRepublic’salwaysbeenaboutclosingoffherborders,yeah?Maybeshe’llfightbetterthisway.Nothingmotivatesyoulikebeingalone
andcorneredonthestreets.”Whenheliftshiscigarettetohislipsagain,Iseehishandtrembling.The
paperclipringgleamsonhisfinger.“Day,”Isaygently.Hejustraisesaneyebrowandglancesatmesideways.“You’reshaking.”
Heexhalesapuffofbluesmoke,squintsatthecitylightsinthedarkness,andthenlowershislashes.“It’sstrangebeingbackinLA,”hereplies,hisvoicedistractedanddistant.“I’mfine.JustworriedaboutTess.”Alongpausefollows.Iknowthename—Eden—thathangsatthetipsofbothofourtongues,althoughneitheroneofuswantstobringitupfirst.Dayfinallyendsoursilence,andwhenhedoes,heapproachesthetopicwithslowandlaboriouspain.“June,I’vebeenthinkingaboutwhatyourElectorwantsfromme.About,youknow...aboutmybrother.”Hesighs,thenleansfartheroutontherailingandrakesahandthroughhishair.Hisarmbrushespastmyown—eventhissmallgesturesendsmyheartbeatingfaster.“IhadanargumentwithEdenaboutitall.”
“Whatdidhesay?”Iask.Somehow,IfeelguiltywhenIthinkbackonAnden’srequestforme.IfyoucanfinditinyourhearttoaskDayagainabouthisbrother,Iwouldbegrateful.
Dayputshiscigaretteoutonthemetalrailing.Hiseyesmeetmine.“Hewantstohelp,”hemurmurs.“AfterseeingTesstoday,andafterwhatyoujusttoldme,well...”Hetightenshisjaw.“I’lltalktoAndentomorrow.Maybethere’ssomethinginEden’sbloodthatcan,youknow...makeadifferenceinallthis.Maybe.”
He’sstillreluctant,ofcourse,andIcanhearthepainplainlyinhisvoice.Butheisalsoagreeing.AgreeingtolettheRepublicusehislittlebrothertofindacure.Asmall,bittersweetsmiletugsatthecornersofmymouth.Day,thechampionofthepeople,theonewhocan’tbeartoseethosearoundhimsufferonhisbehalf,whowouldgladlygivehislifeforthoseheloves.Exceptit’snothislifethatweneedinordertosaveTess,buthisbrother’s.Riskingonelovedoneforthesakeofanotherlovedone.Iwonderwhetheranythingelsemadehimchangehismind.“Thankyou,Day,”Iwhisper.“Iknowhowhardthisis.”
Hegrimacesandshakeshishead.“No,I’mjustbeingselfish.ButIcan’thelpit.”Helooksdown,layingbarehisweaknesses.“Just...tellAndentobringhimback.Pleasebringhimback.”
There’ssomethingelsebotheringhim,somethingthat’smakinghishandsshakeuncontrollably.Ileanintohim,thenplaceoneofmyhandsoverhis.Helooksmeintheeyesagain.There’ssuchdeepsadnessandfearinhisface.Itbreaksmyheart.“Whatelseiswrong,Day?”Iwhisper.“Whatelsedoyou
know?”Thistime,hedoesn’tlookaway.Heswallows—andwhenhespeaks,there’s
aslighttremorinhisvoice.“TheColonies’ChancellorcalledmewhileIwasinthehospital.”
“TheChancellor?”Iwhisper,carefultokeepmyvoicelow.Youneverknow.“Areyousure?”
Daynodsonce.Thenhetellsmeeverything—theconversationhehadwiththeChancellor,thebribes,theblackmailandthreats.HetellsmewhattheColonieshaveinstoreforme,shouldDayrefusethem.Allmyunspokenfears.Finally,hesighs.Thereleaseofallthisinformationseemstolightentheburdenonhisshoulders,ifonlybyahair.“TheremustbeawaywecanusethisagainsttheColonies,”hesays.“Somewaytotrickthemwiththeirowngame.Idon’tknowwhatyet,butifwecanfindsomewaytomaketheChancellorthinkthatI’mgoingtohelphimout,thenmaybewecantakethembysurprise.”
IftheColoniesreallydowin,theywillcomeafterme.We’llbekilled,allofus.Itrytosoundascalmashedoes,butIdon’tsucceed.Atremorstillmanagestocreepintomyvoice.“He’llexpectyoutoreactemotionallytoallthis,”Ireply.“ItmightbeasgoodanopportunityasanytohittheColonieswithyourownbrandofpropaganda.Butwhateverwedo,wehavetobecarefulaboutit.TheChancellorshouldknowbetterthantotrustyouwholeheartedly.”
“Thingswon’tgowellforyouiftheywin,”Daywhispers,hisvoicepained.“Inevertookthemtobesomegoddycompassionatesofties—butmaybeyoushouldfindawaytofleethecountry.Sneakofftoaneutralplaceandseekasylum.”
Fleethecountry,runawayfromthisentirenightmare,andholeupinsomefarawayland?Asmall,tiny,darkvoiceinmyheadwhispersagreement,thatIwillbesaferthatway...butIrecoilfromthethought.IdrawmyselfupaswellasIcan.“No,Day,”Ireplygently.“IfIflee,whatwilleveryoneelsedo?Whataboutthosewhocan’t?”
“Theywillkillyou.”Hedrawscloser.Hiseyesbegmetolisten.“Please.”Ishakemyhead.“I’mstayingrighthere.Thepeopledon’tneedtheirmorale
crushedanyfurther.Besides,youmightneedme.”Igivealittlesmile.“IthinkIknowafewthingsabouttheRepublic’smilitarythatcouldcomeinhandy,wouldn’tyousay?”
Dayshakeshisheadinfrustration,butatthesametimeheknowsIwon’tbudge.Heknows,becausehewoulddonodifferentlyinmyposition.
Hetakesmyhandinhisandpullsmetowardhim.Hisarmswraparoundme.
I’msounusedtohistouchthatthisembracesendsanoverwhelmingwaveofheatthroughmybody.Iclosemyeyes,collapseagainsthischest,andsavorit.Hasitreallybeensolongsincethelasttimewekissed?HaveIreallymissedhimthismuch?Havealltheproblemsthreateningtocrushusbothweakenedustothepointwherewearegaspingforbreath,clingingdesperatelytoeachotherforsurvival?I’veforgottenhowrightitfeelstobeinhisarms.Hiscollarshirtisrumpledandsoftagainstmyskin,andbeneathithischestiswarmandpulseswiththefaintbeatingofhisheart.Hesmellsofearth,smoke,andwind.
“Youdrivemeinsane,June,”hemurmursagainstmyhair.“You’rethescariest,mostclever,bravestpersonIknow,andsometimesIcan’tcatchmybreathbecauseI’mtryingsohardtokeepup.Therewillneverbeanotherlikeyou.Yourealizethat,don’tyou?”Itiltmyfaceuptoseehim.HiseyesreflectthefaintlightsfromtheJumboTrons,arainbowofeveningcolors.“Billionsofpeoplewillcomeandgointhisworld,”hesayssoftly,“buttherewillneverbeanotherlikeyou.”
Myhearttwistsuntilitthreatenstobreak.Idon’tknowhowtorespond.Thenhereleasesmeabruptly—thecoolnessofthenightisasuddenshock
againstmyskin.Eveninthedarkness,Icanseetheblushonhischeeks.Hisbreathingsoundsheavierthanusual.“Whatisit?”Isay.
“I’msorry,”hereplies,hisvoicestrained.“I’mdying,June—I’mnogoodforyou.AndIdosowelluntilIseeyouinperson,andtheneverythingchangesagain.IthinkIdon’tcareaboutyouanymore,thatthingswillbeeasieronceyou’refaraway,andthenallofasuddenI’mhereagain,andyou’re...”Hepausestolookatme.Theanguishinhisexpressionisaknifecuttingthroughmyheart.“WhydoIdothistomyself?Iseeyouandfeelsuch—”Hehastearsinhiseyesnow.ThesightismorethanIcanbear.Hetakestwostepsawayfrommeandthenturnsbacklikeacagedanimal.“Doyouevenloveme?”hesuddenlyasks.Hegripsbothofmyshoulders.“I’vesaidittoyoubefore,andIstillmeanit.ButI’veneverhearditfromyou.Ican’ttell.Andthenyougivemethisring”—hepausestoholdhishandup—“andIdon’tknowwhattothinkanymore.”
Hedrawscloser,untilIfeelhislipsagainstmyear.Myentirebodytrembles.“Doyouhaveanyidea?”hesaysinasoft,broken,hoarsewhisper.“Doyouknowhow...howbadlyIwish...”
Hepullsawaylongenoughtolookmedesperatelyintheeyes.“Ifyoudon’tloveme,justsayit—youhavetohelpme.It’dprobablybeforthebest.It’dmakeiteasiertostayawayfromyou,wouldn’tit?Icanletgo.”Hesaysitlike
he’stryingtoconvincehimself.“Icanletgo,ifyoudon’tloveme.”HesaysthisasifhethinksI’mthestrongerone.ButI’mnot.Ican’tkeep
thisupanybetterthanhecan.“No,”Isaythroughgrittedteethandblurryvision.“Ican’thelpyou.BecauseIdoloveyou.”Thereitis,outintheopen.“I’minlovewithyou,”Irepeat.
There’saconflictedlookinDay’seyes,ajoyandagrief,thatmakeshimsovulnerable.Irealizethenhowlittledefensehehasagainstmywords.Helovessowholly.Itishisnature.Heblinks,thentriestofindtherightresponse.“I—”hestumbles.“I’msoafraid,June.Soafraidofwhatmighthappento—”
Iputtwofingersagainsthislipstohushhim.“Fearmakesyoustronger,”Iwhisper.BeforeIcanstopmyself,Iputmyhandsonhisfaceandpressmymouthtohis.
Whatevershredsofself-restraintDayhadnowcrumbleintopieces.Hefallsintomykisswithhelplessurgency.Ifeelhishandstouchmyface,onepalmsmoothandonestillwrappedinbandages,andthenhewrapshisarmsfranticallyaroundmywaist,pullingmesoclosethatIgaspaloud.Noonecomparestohim.Andrightnow,Iwantnothingelse.
Wemakeourwaybackinside,ourlipsneverapart.Daystumblesagainstme,thenloseshisbalance,andwecollapsebackwardintomybed.Hisbodyknocksthebreathoutofme.Hishandsrunalongmyjawandneck,downmyback,downmylegs.Itughiscoatoff.Day’slipsmoveawayfrommineandheburieshisfaceagainstmyneck.Hishairfansoutacrossmyarm,heavyandsofterthananysilkI’veeverworn.Dayfinallyfindsthebuttonsonmyshirt.I’vealreadyloosenedhis,andunderneaththefabrichisskinishottothetouch.Theheatradiatingfromhimwarmsme.Isavortheweightofhim.
Neitherofusdarestosayaword.We’reafraidthatwordswillstopus,thatthey’lltearapartthespellthatbindsus.He’stremblingasmuchasIam.Itsuddenlyoccurstomethathemustbejustasnervous.Ismilewhenhiseyesfirstmeetmineandthenlowerinabashfulgesture.Dayisshy?Whatastrangenewemotiononhisface,somethingoutofplaceandyetsofitting.I’mrelievedtoseeit,becauseIcanfeeltheblushrisinghotonmyowncheeks.Embarrassed,Ifeelanurgetocoverupmyexposedskin.I’vefrequentlyimaginedwhatthiswouldbelike,lyingwithDayforthefirsttime.I’minlovewithhim.Itentativelytestthesenewwordsagaininmymind,amazedandfrightenedbywhattheymightmean.Heishere,andheisreal,fleshandblood.
Eveninhisfeverishpassion,Dayisgentlewithme.ItisadifferentgentlenessfromwhatI’vefeltaroundAnden,whoisrefinementandproperness
andelegance.Dayiscoarse,open,uncertain,andpure.WhenIlookathim,Inoticethesubtlesmileplayingattheedgesofhismouth,thesmallesthintofmischiefthatonlystrengthensmydesireforhim.Henuzzlesmyneck;histouchsendsshiversdancingalongmyspine.Daysighsinreliefagainstmyearinawaythatmakesmyheartpound,asighoffreeinghimselffromallofthedarkemotionsthatplaguehim.Ifallintoanotherkiss,runningmyhandsthroughhishair,lettinghimknowthatI’mokay.Hegraduallyrelaxes.Isuckinmybreathashemovesagainstme;hiseyesaresobrightthatIfeellikeIcoulddrowninthem.Hekissesmycheeks,tuckingastrandofmyhaircarefullybehindmyearashegoes,andIslidemyarmsaroundhisbackandpullhimcloser.
Nomatterwhathappensinthefuture,nomatterwhereourpathstakeus,thismomentwillbeours.
Afterward,westayquiet.Dayliesbesidemewithblanketscoveringpartofhislegs,hiseyesclosedinadrowsyhalfsleep,hishandstillentwinedwithmineasifforreassurance.Ilookaroundus.Theblanketshangprecariouslyoffthecornerofthebed.Thesheetshavewrinklesthatradiateout,lookinglikeadozenlittlesunsandtheirrays.Therearedeepindentsinmypillow.Brokenglassandflowerpetalslitterthefloor.Ihadn’tevennoticedthatwe’dknockedavaseoffmydresser,hadn’theardthesoundofitshatteringagainstthecherrywoodplanks.MyeyesgobacktoDay.Hisfacelookssopeacefulnow,freeofpaininthedimglowofnight.Evennaïve.Hismouthisnolongeropen,hisbrowsnolongerscrunchedtogether.He’snottremblinganymore.Loosehairframeshisface,afewstrandscatchingthecity’slightsfromoutside.Iinchforward,runmyhandalongthemusclesofhisarm,andtouchmylipstohischeek.
Hiseyesopen;theyblinkatmesleepily.Hestaresatmeforalongmoment.Iwonderwhathesees,andwhetherallofthepainandjoyandfearhehadconfessedearlierisstillthere,foreverhauntinghim.Heleansovertogivemethegentlest,mostdelicatekiss.Hislipslinger,afraidtoleave.Idon’twanttoleaveeither.Idon’twanttothinkaboutwakingup.WhenIpullhimclosetomeagain,heobliges,achingformore.AndallIcanthinkaboutisthatI’mgratefulforhissilence,fornottellingmethatIamjoiningustogetherwhenIshouldbelettinghimgo.
IT’SNOTLIKEIHAVEN’THADMYSHAREOFMOMENTSWITHgirls.IhadmyfirstkisswhenIwastwelve,whenIlockedlipswithasixteen-year-oldgirlinexchangeforhernotrattingmeouttothestreetpolice.I’vefooledaroundwithahandfulofgirlsintheslumsectorsandafewfromwealthysectors—therewasevenonegemsector,highschoolfreshmanwhoI’dhadacoupledays’romancewithbackwhenIwasfourteen.Shewascute,withpixie-short,lightbrownhairandflawlessoliveskin,andwe’dsneakoffeveryafternoontothebasementofherschooland,well,havealittlefun.Longstory.
But...June.Myheart’sbeentornwideopen,justlikeIfeareditwouldbe,andI
havenowillpowertocloseitbackup.AnybarrierImight’vesucceededinputtinguparoundmyself,anyresistanceImight’vebuiltupagainstmyfeelingsforher,isnowcompletelygone.Shattered.Inthedimbluelightofnight,IreachoutandrunonehandalongthecurveofJune’sbody.Mybreathingisstillshallow.Idon’twanttobethefirsttosaysomething.Mychestispressedgentlyagainstherbackandmyarm’srestingcomfortablyaroundherwaist;herhairdrapesoverherneckinadark,glossyrope.Iburymyfaceagainsthersmoothskin.Amillionthoughtspourthroughmyhead,butlikeher,Istaysilent.
There’ssimplynothingtosay.
***
Ijoltawakeinbed,gasping.Icanbarelybreathe—mylungsheaveinanattempttosuckinair.Ilookaroundfrantically.WhereamI?
I’minJune’sbed.Itwasanightmare,justanightmare,andtheLakesectoralleyand
streetandbloodaregone.Iliethereamoment,tryingquietlytocatchmy
breathandslowthepoundingofmyheart.I’mcompletelydrenchedinsweat.IglanceoveratJune.She’slyingonhersideandfacingme,herbodystillrisingandfallinginagentle,steadyrhythm.Good.Ididn’twakeher.Ihurriedlywipetearsfrommyfacewiththepalmofmyuninjuredhand.ThenIliethereforafewminutes,stilltrembling.Whenit’sobviousthatI’mnotgoingtobeabletofallbackasleep,Islowlysitupinbedandcrouchwithmyarmsagainstmyknees.Ibowmyhead.Mylashesbrushagainsttheskinofmyarm.Ifeelsoweak,likeIjustfinishedclimbingupathirty-storybuilding.
ThiswaseasilytheworstnightmareI’vehadyet.I’meventerrifiedtoblinkfortoolong,incaseIhavetorevisittheimagesthatdancedundermyeyelids.Ilookaroundtheroom.Myvisionblursagain;Iangrilywipethefreshtearsaway.Whattimeisit?It’sstillpitch-blackoutside,withonlythefaintglowfromdistantJumboTronsandstreetlightsfilteringintotheroom.IglancetowardJune,watchinghowthedimlightsfromoutsidesplashcoloracrosshersilhouette.Thistime,Idon’treachoutandtouchher.
Idon’tknowhowlongIsittherecrouchedlikethat,takinginonedeeplungfulofairafteranotheruntilmybreathingfinallysteadies.It’slongenoughforthesweatbeadingmyentirebodytodry.Myeyeswandertotheroom’sbalcony.Istareatitforawhile,unabletolookaway,andthenIgingerlyslideoutofbedwithoutasoundandslipintomyshirt,trousers,andboots.Itwistmyhairupintoatightknot,thenfitacapsnuglyoverit.Junestirsalittle.Istopmoving.Whenshesettlesbackdown,Ifinishbuttoningmyshirtandwalkovertotheglassbalconydoors.Inthecornerofthebedroom,June’sdoggivesmeacurioustiltofhishead.Buthedoesn’tmakeasound.Isayasilentthanksinmyhead,thenopenthebalconydoors.Theyswingopen,thenclosebehindmewithoutaclick.
Ipullmyselflaboriouslyontothebalconyrailings,perchtherelikeacat,andsurveymysurroundings.Rubysector,agemsectorthat’ssocompletelydifferentfromwhereIcamefrom.I’mbackinLA,butIdon’trecognizeit.Clean,manicuredstreets,newandshinyJumboTrons,widesidewalkswithoutcracksandpotholes,withoutstreetpolicedraggingcryingorphansawayfrommarketstands.Instinctively,myattentionturnsinthedirectionofthecitythatLakesectorwouldbe.Fromthissideofthebuilding,Ican’tseedowntownLA,butIcanfeelitthere,thememoriesthatwokemeupandwhisperedformetocomeback.Thepaperclipringsitsheavilyonmyfinger.Adark,terriblemoodlingersatthebackofmymindafterthat
nightmare,somethingIcan’tseemtoshake.Ihopoverthesideofthebalconyandworkmywaydowntoalowerledge.Imakemywaysilently,floorbyfloor,untilmybootshitthepavementandIblendintotheshadowsofthenight.Mybreathscomeraggedly.
Evenhereinagemsector,therearenowcitypatrolsguardingthestreets,theirgunsdrawnasifreadyforasurpriseColonies’attackatanymoment.Isteerclearofthemtoavoidanyquestions,andgobacktomyoldstreethabits,makingmywaythroughbackalleymazesandshadedsidesofbuildingsuntilIreachatrainstationwherejeepsarelinedup,waitingtogiverides.Iignorethejeeps—I’mnotinthemoodtogetchattywithoneofthedriversandthenhavethemrecognizemeasDay,andthenhearrumorsspreadingaroundtownthenextmorningaboutwhateverthehelltheythinkIwasupto.Instead,IheadintothetrainstationandwaitforthenextautomatedridetocomeandtakemetoUnionStationindowntown.
Halfanhourlater,IstepoutofthedowntownstationandmakemywaysilentlythroughthestreetsuntilI’mclosetomymother’soldhome.Thecracksinalltheslumsectorroadsaregoodforonething—hereandthereIseepatchesofseadaisiesgrowinghaphazardly,littlespotsofturquoiseandgreenonanotherwisegraystreet.Oninstinct,Ibenddownandpickahandfulofthem.Mom’sfavorite.
“Youthere.Hey,boy.”Iturntoseewho’scalling.Itactuallytakesmeafewsecondstofindher,
becauseshe’ssosmall.Anoldwoman’shunchedagainstthesideofaboarded-upbuilding,shiveringinthenightair.She’sbentalmostdouble,withafacecompletelycoveredindeepwrinkles,andherclothesaresotatteredthatIcan’ttellwhereanyofitendsorbegins—it’sjustonebigmopofrags.Shehasacrackedmugsittingatherdirtybarefeet,butwhatreallymakesmestopisthatherhandsarewrappedinthickbandages.JustlikeMom’s.Whensheseesthatmyattentionisonher,hereyeslightupwithafaintglintofhope.I’mnotsureifsherecognizesme,butI’malsonotsurehowwellshecansee.“Anysparechange,littleboy?”shecroaks.
Idigaroundnumblyinmypockets,thenpulloutasmallwadofcash.EighthundredRepublicNotes.Nottoolongago,Iwould’veputmylifeindangertogetmyhandsonthismuchmoney.Ibenddownnexttotheoldwoman,thenpressthebillsintohershakingpalmandsqueezeherbandagedhandswithmyown.
“Keepithidden.Don’ttellanyone.”Whenshejustcontinuestostareat
mewithshockedeyesandanagapemouth,Istandupandstartwalkingbackdownthestreet.Ithinkshecallsout,butIdon’tbotherturningaround.Don’twanttoseethosebandagedhandsagain.
Minuteslater,IreachtheintersectionofWatsonandFigueroa.Myoldhome.
Thestreethasn’tchangedmuchfromhowIrememberit,butthistimemymother’shomeisboardedupandabandoned,likemanyoftheotherbuildingsintheslumsectors.Iwonderiftherearesquattersinthere,allholedupinouroldbedroomorsleepingonthekitchenfloor.Nolightshinesfromthehouse.Iwalkslowlytowardit,wonderingifI’mstilllostinmynightmare.MaybeIhaven’twokenupatall.Nomorequarantinetapeblocksthestreetoff,nomoreplaguepatrolshangaroundoutsidethehouse.AsIwalktowardit,Inoticeanoldbloodstainstillvisible,ifonlybarely,onthebrokenconcreteleadingtowardthehouse.Itlooksbrownandfadednow,sodifferentfromhowIrememberit.Istareatthebloodstain,numbandunfeeling,thensteparounditandcontinueon.MyhandclingstightlytothethickbundleofseadaisiesIbrought.
WhenIapproachthefrontdoor,IseethefamiliarredXisstillthere,althoughnowit’sfadedandchipped,andseveralplanksofrottingwoodarenailedacrossthedoorframe.Istandthereforawhile,runningafingeralongthedyingpaintstreaks.Afewminuteslater,Isnapoutofmydazeandwanderaroundtothebackofthehouse.Halfofourfencehasnowcollapsed,leavingthetinyyardexposedandvisibletoourneighbors.Thebackdooralsohasplanksofwoodnailedacrossit,butthey’resorottenandcrumblingthatallIhavetodoisputalittleweightonthemandtheycomeapartinadullcrackleofsplinters.
Iforcethedooropenandstepinside.IremovemycapasIgo,lettingmyhairtumbledownmyback.Momhadalwaystoldustotakeourhatsoffwhileinthehouse.
Myeyesadjusttothedarkness.Istepquietlyupafewstepsandenterthebackofourtinylivingroom.Theymayhaveboardedupthehouseaspartofsomestandardprotocol,butthefurnitureinsidethehouseisuntouched,differentonlyinthatit’sallcoveredinalayerofdust.Myfamily’sfewbelongingsarestillhere,inexactlythesameconditionasI’dlastseenthem.TheoldElector’sportraithangsontheroom’sfarwall,prominentandcentered,andourlittlewoodendiningtablestillhasthicklayersofcardboardtackedtooneofitslegs,stilldoingtheirjobofholding
thetableup.Oneofthechairsislyingontheground,asifsomeonehadtogetupinahurry.ThathadbeenJohn,Inowremember.Irecallhowwe’dallheadedintothebedroomtograbEden,tryingtogetourlittlebrotheroutbeforetheplaguepatrolscameforhim.
Thebedroom.Iturnmybootsinthedirectionofournarrowbedroomdoor.Itonlytakesafewstepstoreachit.Yeah,everythinginhereisexactlythesametoo,maybewithafewextracobwebs.TheplantthatEdenhadoncebroughthomeisstillsittinginthecorner,althoughnowit’sdead,itsleavesandvinesblackandshriveled.Istandthereforamoment,staringatit,andthenheadbackintothelivingroom.Iwalkoncearoundthediningtable.Finally,Isitinmyoldchair.Itcreakslikeitalwaysdid.
Ilaythebundleofseadaisiescarefullyonthetabletop.Ourlanternsitsinthemiddleofthetable,unlitandunused.Usually,theroutinewentlikethis:Momwouldcomehomearoundsixo’clockeveryday,afewhoursafterI’dgottenbackfromgradeschool,andJohnwouldgethomearoundnineorten.MomwouldtrytoholdoffonlightingthetablelanterneachnightuntilJohnreturned,andafterawhileEdenandIgotusedtolookingforwardto“thelanternlighting,”whichalwaysmeantJohnhadjustwalkedthroughthedoor.Andthatmeantwe’dgettositdowntodinner.
Idon’tknowwhyIsithereandfeelthefamiliaroldexpectationthatMomisgoingtocomeoutfromthekitchenandlightthelantern.Idon’tknowhowIcanfeelajoltofjoyinmychest,thinkingJohnishome,thatdinner’sserved.Stupidoldhabits.Still,myeyesgoexpectantlytothefrontdoor.Myhopesrise.
Butthelanternstaysunlit.Johnstaysoutside.Momisn’thome.Ileanmyarmsheavilyagainstthetableandpressmypalmstomyeyes.
“Helpme,”Iwhisperdesperatelytotheemptyroom.“Ican’tdothis.”Iwantto,Iloveher,butIcan’tbearit.It’sbeenalmostayear.What’swrongwithme?Whycan’tIjustmoveon?
Mythroatchokesup.Thetearscomeinarush.Idon’tbothertostopthem,becauseIknowit’simpossible.Isobuncontrollably—Ican’tstop,Ican’tcatchmybreath,Ican’tsee.Ican’tseemyfamilybecausethey’renothere.Withoutthem,allthisfurnitureisnothing,theseadaisieslyingonthetablearemeaningless,thelanternisjustanold,blackenedpieceofjunk.Theimagesfrommynightmarelinger,hauntingme.NomatterhowhardItry,Ican’tpushthemaway.
Timehealsallwounds.Butnotthisone.Notyet.
IDON’TSTIR,BUTTHROUGHMYHALF-LIDDED,SLEEPYeyes,IseeDaysitupinbedbesidemeandburyhisfaceinhisarms.He’sbreathingheavily.Sevenminuteslaterhegetsupquietly,castsonelastglanceinmydirection,anddisappearsoutthebalconydoors.He’sassilentasever,andifhimwakingupfromhisnightmarehadn’trousedme,hewouldeasilyhaveleftmyroomwithoutmyeverknowing.
ButIdoknow,andthistimeIriserightafterheleaves.Ithrowonsomeclothes,pullonmyboots,andheadoutafterhim.Thecoolairwashesovermyface,andmoonlightdrenchesthewholenightindarksilver.
Eveninhisdeterioratingcondition,he’sstillfastwhenhewantstobe.BythetimeIcatchupwithhimatUnionStationandfollowhimthroughthestreetsofdowntown,myheartispoundingsteadilyinthewayitdoesafterathoroughworkout.Bynow,Ialreadyknowwherehe’sgoing.He’sreturningtohisfamily’soldhome.IlookonashefinallyreachestheintersectionofWatsonandFigueroa,turnsthecorner,andheadsinsideatiny,boarded-uphousewithafadedXstillpaintedonitsdoor.
Justbeingbackheremakesmedizzywiththememory.Ican’timaginehowmuchworseitmustbeforDay.GingerlyImakemywayovertotheboardedwindows,thenlistenintentlyforhim.Hegoesinthroughthebackdoor—Ihearhimshufflingaroundinside,hisfootstepssubduedandmuffled,andthenstopinthelivingroom.IgofromwindowtowindowuntilIfinallyfindonethatstillhasacrackbetweentwoofitswoodenplanks.AtfirstIcan’tseehim.ButeventuallyIdo.
Dayissittingatthelivingroomtablewithhisheadinhishands.Eventhoughit’stoodarkinsideformetomakeouthisfeatures,Icanhearhimcrying.Hissilhouettetrembleswithgrief,andhisanguishisetchedintoeverysinglecrumpled,devastatedmuscleofhisbody.Thesoundissoforeignthatittearsatmyheart;I’veseenDaycry,butI’mnotusedtoit.Idon’tknowwhetherIever
willbe.WhenIreachuptomyface,Irealizethattearsarerunningdownmycheekstoo.
Ididthistohim...andbecausehelovesme,hecanneverreallyescapeit.He’llrememberthefateofhisfamilyeverytimeheseesme,evenifhelovesme,especiallyifhelovesme.
IFINALLYRETURN,BLEARY-EYEDANDEXHAUSTED,TOJUNE’Sbedroomjustbeforedawn.She’sstillthere,apparentlyundisturbed.Idon’ttrytocrawlbackintobedbesideher;instead,Icollapseontohercouchandfallintoadeep,dreamlesssleepuntilthelightstrengthensoutside.
June’stheonewhoshakesmeawake.“Hey,”shewhispers.Tomysurprise,shedoesn’tcommentonhowredorpuffymyeyesmustlook.Shedoesn’tevenseemshockedtowakeupandfindmeloungingonhercouchinsteadofinherbed.Herowneyeslookheavy.“I’ve...informedAndenaboutwhatyoudecided.HesaysalabteamwillbereadytopickyouandEdenupintwohours,atyourapartment.”Shesoundsgrateful,weary,andhesitant.
“I’llbethere,”Imutter.Ican’thelpstaringvacantlyoffintospaceforafewseconds—nothingseemsrealrightnow,andIfeellikeI’mswimminginaseaoffogwhereemotionsandimagesandthoughtsarealloutoffocus.Iforcemyselfoffthecouchandintothebathroom.There,Iunbuttonmyshirtandsplashwateronmyfaceandchestandarms.I’mafraidtolookinthemirrorthistime.Idon’twanttoseeJohnstaringbackatme,withmyownblindfoldtightaroundhiseyes.Myhandsareshakingsobadly;thegashonmyleftpalmisopenagainandbleeding,probablyfromthefactthatIkeepclenchingthathandinstinctively.HadJuneseenmeleave?IshudderasIrelivethememoryofherstandingthereoutsidemymother’shome,waitingattheheadofasquadronofsoldiers.ThenIrevisittheChancellor’swordstome,theprecarioussituationthatJuneisin...thatTessisin,thatEdenisin—thatwe’reallin.
Isplashwaterrepeatedlyonmyface,andwhenthatdoesn’thelp,Ijumpintheshoweranddrownmyselfwithscaldinghotwater.Butitdoesn’tnumbtheimages.
BythetimeIfinallyemergefromthebathroom,myhairstillwetandmyshirthalfbuttoned,I’msicklypaleandtrembling.Junewatchesme
quietlyasshesitsontheedgeofherbed,sippingapalepurpletea.EventhoughIknowit’spointlesstotryhidinganythingfromher,Istillgiveitashot.“I’mready,”IsaywithasgenuineofasmileasIcanmuster.Shedoesn’tdeservetoseethissortofpainonmyface,andIdon’twanthertothinkthatshe’stheonecausingit.She’snottheonecausingit,Iangrilyremindmyself.
ButJunedoesn’tcommentonit.Shestudiesmewiththosedeepdarkeyes.“IjustgotacallfromAnden,”shesays,runningahanduncomfortablythroughherhair.“TheyhavesomenewevidencethatCommanderJameson’stheoneresponsibleforpassingalongsomemilitarysecretstotheColonies.Itsoundslikeshe’sworkingforthemnow.”
Underneathmytidalwaveofemotions,adeephatredwellsup.Ifitweren’tforCommanderJameson,maybeeverythingwouldhavebeenbetterbetweenJuneandme—andmaybeourfamilieswouldstillbealive.Idon’tknow.We’llneverknow.Andnowshe’sworkingfortheenemywhenshe’ssupposedtobedead.Imutteracurseundermybreath.“Isthereanywaytoknowexactlywheresheis?IssheactuallyintheRepublic?”
“Nooneknows.”Juneshakesherhead.“Andensaysthey’retryingtoseeifanythingonhercanbetracked,butshemusthavelongchangedoutofherprisonclothing,andherboots’trackingchipsmustbegonebynow.She’llhavemadesureofthat.”WhenJuneseesthefrustrationonmyface,shegrimacesinsympathy.Bothofus,brokenbythesameperson.“Iknow.”Sheputsherteadownandsqueezesmyuninjuredhand.
Violentflashbacksflickerthroughmymemoryathertouch—IwincebeforeIcanstopmyself.Shefreezes.Forasecond,Iseethedeephurtinherexpression.Iquicklycoverupmymistakebykissingher,tryingtolosemyselfinthegestureasIdidlastnight.
ButI’veneverbeenthebestliar,atleastnotaroundher.Shetakesastepawayfromme.“Sorry,”shewhispers.
“It’sokay,”Isayinarush,irritatedwithmyselfatdraggingouroldwoundsbacktothesurface.“It’snot—”
“Yes,itis.”Juneforcesherselftofaceme.“Isawwhereyouwentlastnight—Isawyouinthere....”Hervoicefadesawayasshelooksdowninguilt.“I’msorryIfollowedyou,butIhadtoknow.IhadtoseethatIwastheonecausingallofthegriefinyoureyes.”
Iwanttoreassureherthatit’snotallbecauseofher,thatIlovehersodesperatelythatI’mterrifiedofthefeeling.ButIcan’t.Juneseesthe
hesitationonmyfaceandknowsit’saconfirmationofherfear.Shebitesherlip.“It’smyfault,”shesays,asifit’sjustsimplelogic.“AndI’mnotsureIwilleverbeabletoearnyourforgiveness.Ishouldn’t.”
“Idon’tknowwhattodo.”Myhandsdangleatmysides,helpless.Terribleimagesfromourpastflashthroughmymindagain—mybestattemptscan’tstopthem.“Idon’tknowhowtodoit.”
June’seyesareglossywithtears,butshemanagestoholdthemin.Canonemistakereallydestroyalifetimetogether?“Idon’tthinkthere’saway,”shefinallysays.
Itakeasteptowardher.“Hey,”Iwhisperinherear.“We’llbeokay.”I’mnotsureifit’strue,butitseemslikethebestthingtosay.
Junesmiles,playingalong,buthereyesmirrormyowndoubt.
***
TheseconddayoftheColonies’promisedceasefire.ThelastplaceIwanttoreturntoisthelabflooroftheLosAngeles
CentralHospital.It’shardenoughbeingthereandseeingTesscontainedbehindglasswalls,withchemicalsbeinginjectedintoherbloodstream.NowI’llbebacktherewithEdenatmyside,andI’llhavetodealwithseeingthesamethinghappentohim.Aswegetreadytoheaddowntothejeepwaitinginfrontofourtemporaryapartment,IkneelinfrontofEdenandstraightenhisglasses.Hestaressolemnlyback.
“Youdon’thavetodothis,”Isayagain.“Iknow,”Edenreplies.HebrushesmyhandimpatientlyawaywhenI
wipelintoffhisjacket’sshoulders.“I’llbefine.Theysaiditwouldn’ttakeallday,anyway.”
Andencouldn’tguaranteehissafety;hecouldonlypromisethattheywouldtakeeveryprecaution.AndcomingfromthemouthoftheRepublic—evenamouththatI’vecometogrudginglytrust—thatlittlecrackedbitofreassurancemeansalmostnothing.Isigh.“Ifyouchangeyourmindatanypoint,youletmeknow,yeah?”
“Don’tworry,Daniel,”hesays,shruggingoffthewholething.“I’llbefine.Itdoesn’tseemthatscary.Atleastyougettobethere.”
“Yeah.AtleastIgettobethere,”Iechonumbly.Lucyfussesoverhismessyblondcurls.Moreremindersofhome,andofMom.Ishutmyeyesandtrytoclearmythoughts.ThenIreachoutandtapEdenonthenose.
“Thesoonertheystart,”Isaytohim,“thesooneritcanallbeover.”Minuteslater,amilitaryjeeppicksmeupwhileamedictruck
transportsEdenseparatelytotheLosAngelesCentralHospital.Hecandothis,IrepeattomyselfasIreachthefourth-floorlaboratory.
I’mescortedbytechnicianstoachamberwiththickglasswindows.Andifhecan,thenIcanlivethroughit.Butstill,myhandsaresweaty.Iclenchthemagaininanattempttostoptheirendlesstrembling,andastabofpainrunsthroughmyinjuredpalm.Eden’sinsidethisglasschamber.HispaleblondcurlsaremessyandruffledinspiteofLucy’sefforts,andhe’snowwearingathinredpatientscrub.Hisfeetarebare.Apairoflabtechnicianshelphimupontoalong,whitebed,andoneofthemrollsupEden’ssleevestotakehisbloodpressure.Edenwinceswhenthecoolrubbertoucheshisarm.
“Relax,kid,”thelabtechsays,hisvoicemuffledbytheglass.“Justtakeadeepbreath.”
Edenmurmursafaint“okay”inresponse.Helookssosmallnexttothem.Hisfeetdon’teventouchthefloor.Theyswingidlywhilehestaresofftowardthewindowseparatingus,searchingforme.Iclenchandunclenchmyhands,thenpressthemagainstthewindow.
ThefateoftheentireRepublicrestsontheshouldersofmykidbrother.IfMom,John,orDadwerehere,they’dprobablylaughathowridiculousthiswholethingis.
“He’sgoingtobeokay,”thelabtechstandingnexttomemuttersinreassurance.Hedoesn’tsoundveryconvincing.“Today’sproceduresshouldn’tcausehimanypain.We’rejustgoingtotakesomebloodsamplesandthengivehimafewmedications.We’vesentsomesamplestoAntarctica’slabteamsforanalysistoo.”
“Isthatsupposedtomakemefeelbetter?”Isnapathim.“Today’sproceduresshouldn’tcausehimanypain?Whatabouttomorrow’s?”
Thelabtechholdshishandsupdefensively.“I’msorry,”hestammers.“Itcameoutwrong—Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.Yourbrotherwon’tbeinanypain,Ipromise.Somediscomfort,perhaps,fromthemedicine,butwe’retakingeveryprecautionwecan.I,er,Ihopeyouwon’treportthisnegativelytoourgloriousElector.”
So,that’swhathe’sworriedabout.ThatifI’mupset,I’mgoingtoruntoAndenandwhine.Inarrowmyeyesathim.“Ifyoudon’tgivemeareasontoreportanythingbad,thenIwon’t.”
Thelabtechapologizesagain,butI’mnotpayingattentiontohimanymore.MyeyesgobacktoEden.He’saskingoneofthetechnicianssomething,althoughhe’sspeakingquietlyenoughthatIcan’thear.Thelabtechshakeshisheadatmybrother.Edenswallows,looksbacknervouslyinmydirection,andthensqueezeshiseyesshut.Oneofthelabtechstakesoutasyringe,thencarefullyinjectsitintotheveinofEden’sarm.Edenclencheshisjawtight,buthedoesn’tutterasound.Afamiliardullpainthrobsatthebaseofmyneck.Itrytocalmmyselfdown.StressingmyselfoutandtriggeringoneofmyheadachesatatimelikethisisnotgoingtohelpEden.
Hechosetodothis,Iremindmyself.Iswellwithsuddenpride.WhenhadEdengrownup?IfeellikeIblinkedandmissedit.
Thelabtechfinallyremovesthesyringe,whichisnowfilledwithblood.TheydabsomethingonEden’sarm,thenbandageit.ThesecondtechnicianthendropsahandfulofpillsintoEden’sopenpalm.
“Swallowthemtogether,”hetellsmybrother.Edendoesashesays.“They’reabitbitter—besttogetitalloverwithatonce.”
Edengrimacesandgagsalittle,butmanagestowashthepillsdownwithsomewater.Thenheliesdownonthebed.Thetechnicianswheelhimovertoacylindricalmachine.Ican’trememberwhatthemachine’scalled,eventhoughtheytoldmelessthananhourago.Theyslowlyrollhiminsideit,untilallIcanseeofEdenaretheballsofhisbarefeet.Islowlypeelmyhandsoffthewindow.Myskinleavesprintsontheglass.Aminutelater,myhearttwistsinmychestasIhearEdencryingfrominsidethemachine.Somethingaboutitmustbepainful.IclenchmyteethsohardthatIthinkmyjawmightbreak.
Finally,afterwhatseemslikeaneternity,oneofthelabtechsmotionsformetocomeinside.IimmediatelyshovepastthemandentertheglasschambertoleanoverEden’sside.He’ssittingontheedgeofthewhitebedagain.Whenhehearsmeapproach,hebreaksintoasmile.
“Thatwasn’tsobad,”hesaystomeinaweakvoice.Ijusttakehishandandsqueezeitinmyown.“Youdidgood,”Ireply.
“I’mproudofyou.”AndIam.I’mprouderofhimthanI’veeverbeenofmyself—I’mproudofhimforstandinguptome.
OneofthelabtechsshowsmeascreenwithwhatlookslikeamagnifiedviewofEden’sbloodcells.“Agoodstart,”hetellsus.“We’llworkwiththisandtryinjectingTesswithacuretonight.Ifwe’relucky,she’llhanginthereforanotherfiveorsixdaysandgiveussometimetoworkwith.”The
tech’seyesaregrim,eventhoughhiswordsareprettyhopeful.Theweirdcombinationmakesachillrundownmyspine.IgripEden’shandtighter.
“Wedon’thavealotoftimeleft,”Edenwhisperstomewhenthelabtechsleaveustotalkinpeace.“Iftheycan’tfindacure,whatarewegoingtodo?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmit.It’snotsomethingIreallywanttothinkabout,becauseitleavesmefeelingmorehelplessthanIlike.Ifwedon’tfindacure,therewon’tbeanyinternationalmilitaryaid.Ifthere’snoaid,thenwe’llhavenowaytowinagainsttheColonies.AndiftheColoniesoverrunus...IrecallwhatIsawwhenIwasoverthere,andrememberwhattheChancellorhadofferedme.Ifyouchoose,wecanworktogether.Thepeopledon’tknowwhat’sbestforthem.Sometimesyoujusthavetohelpthemalong.Isn’tthatright?
Ineedtofindawaytostallthemwhileweworkonacure.AnythingtoslowtheColoniesdown,togivetheAntarcticansachancetocometoouraid.“We’lljusthavetofightback,”ItellEden,rufflinghishair.“Untilwecan’tfightbackanymore.That’sthewayitalwaysseemstobe,yeah?”
“Whycan’ttheRepublicwin?”Edenasks.“Ialwaysthoughttheirmilitarywasthestrongestintheworld.ThisisthefirsttimeIactuallywishtheywereright.”
IsmilesadlyatEden’snaïveté.“TheColonieshaveallies,”Ireply.“Wedon’t.”HowthehelldoIexplainitall?HowdoItellhimexactlyhowhelplessIfeel,standingbylikeabrokenpuppetwhileAndenleadshisarmyinabattletheyjustcan’twin?“Theyhaveabetterarmy,andwejustdon’thaveenoughsoldierstogoaround.”
Edensighs.Hislittleshouldersslumpinawaythatchokesmeup.Iclosemyeyesandforcemyselftocalmdown.CryinginfrontofEdenatatimelikethisiswaytooembarrassing.“ToobadeveryoneintheRepublicisn’tasoldier,”hemutters.
Iopenmyeyes.ToobadeveryoneintheRepublicisn’tasoldier.Andjustlikethat,IknowwhatIneedtodo.Iknowhowtoanswerthe
Chancellor’sblackmail,andhowtostalltheColonies.I’mdying,Idon’thavemanydaysleft—mymindisslowlyfallingapart,andsoismystrength.ButIdohaveenoughstrengthforonething.Ihaveenoughtimetotakeonefinalstep.
“MaybeeveryoneintheRepubliccanbeasoldier,”Ireplyquietly.
LASTNIGHTFEELSLIKEADREAM,EVERYLASTDETAILofit.Butthismorningstandsinstarkcontrast—thereisnomistakingtheflinchIfeltfromDaywhenItouchedhisarm,theviolentshudderthatwentthroughhimatjustabrushofmyhand.MyheartstillhurtsasIleavemyapartment,headedforaparkedjeepthatwillbewaitingforme.AmorningspentwiththeSenate.ItryinvaintoclearDayfrommymind,butit’simpossible.ASenatemeetingfeelssotrivialrightnow—theColoniesaregraduallypushingourcountrybackwiththehelpofstrongallies,Antarcticastillrefusestohelpus,andCommanderJamesonisatlarge.AndhereI’llsit,talkingpoliticswhenIcouldbe—shouldbe—outinthefield,doingwhatI’mtrainedtodo.WhatamIgoingtosaytoallofthem,anyway?Areanyofthemevengoingtolisten?
Whatarewegoingtodo?No.Ineedtofocus.IneedtosupportAndenasheattempts,yetagain,to
negotiatewiththeColonies’ChancellorandCEOsandgenerals.Webothknowthatitwon’tgetusanywhere....Theonlythingthatwillmakethembudgeisacure.Andeventhen,itmightnotbeenoughtoholdtheColoniesback.Butstill.Wehavetotry.Andperhapshe’llbeupforhelpingthePatriotswiththeirplans,especiallyifheknowshowmuchDaywillbeinvolvedinthem.
ThemerethoughtofDaybringsbackmemoriesoflastnight.Mycheeksturnhot,andIknowit’snotbecauseofthewarmLosAngelesweather.Stupidtiming,Ichidemyself,andpushlastnightfrommythoughts.Allaroundme,theusuallybusystreetsofLakeareeerilyempty,asifwe’repreparingforanoncomingstorm.Isupposethat’snotsoinaccurate.
Apricklingsensationsuddenlytravelsupmyspine.Istopforamoment,thenfrown.Whatwasthat?Thestreetsstilllookdeserted,butastrangepremonitionmakesthehairsonthebackofmyneckstandup.Someoneiswatchingme.Immediatelytheideafeelstoofar-fetched,butasIwalk,Itighten
myjawandletmyhandrestonmygun.MaybeI’mbeingridiculous.PerhapsthewarningthatDayhadgivenme—thattheColoniesmightusemeagainsthimorthattheymighthavemeintheirsights—isstartingtoplaytricksonmymind.Still,noreasontothrowcautiontothewinds.Ileanagainsttheclosestbuildingsothatmybackisprotected,andcallAnden.Thesoonerthisjeeparrives,thebetter.
AndthenIseeher.Istopthecall.Shewearsagooddisguise.(WeatheredRepublicattirethat’ssupposedtobe
wornonlybyfirst-yearsoldiers,whichmeansshelooksunremarkableandeasilymissed;asoldier’scappulledlowoverherface,withonlyafewdarkredstrandspokingoutfromunderneathit.)Butevenfromthisdistance,Irecognizeherface—coldandhard.
CommanderJameson.Ilookcasuallyawayandpretendtodigaroundinmypocketsforsomething,
butinside,myheartpoundsatafuriouspace.She’shereinLosAngeles,whichmeansshesomehowmanagedtoescapethefightinginDenverandavoidedtheRepublic’sclutches.IsittoobigacoincidencethatsheiswhereIam?PerhapssheisherebecausesheknewthatIwouldbehere?TheColonies.Theremustbeothereyeshere.Myhandsshakeasshepassesmebyontheothersideofthestreet.Shegivesnoindicationofseeingme,butIknowthatshe’snoticed.Onsuchanemptyblock,Ishouldbeimpossibletomiss—andI’mnotindisguise.
Whenherbackisfinallyturnedtome,Icrossmyarms,tiltmyheadslightlydownward,andcallAndenonmyearpieceagain.“Iseeher.She’shere.CommanderJamesonisinLosAngeles.”
MyvoicesoundssoquietandmumbledthatAndenhastroublemakingitout.“Youseeher?”heasksindisbelief.“She’sonthesameblockasyou?”
“Yes,”Iwhisper.I’mcarefultokeepaneyeonCommanderJameson’sdisappearingfigure.“Shemightbehereintentionally,lookingforwheremyjeepwilltakemeorperhapstryingtolocateyou.”Asshepullsfartheraway,anoverwhelmingdesirerisesupinmetotagalong.Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,myagentskillsarecallingouttome.Gonearepolitics;suddenlyI’vebeenthrustbackinthefield.Whensheturnsacorner,Iimmediatelyabandonmyspotandstartheadingafterher.Whereisshegoing?“She’satLakeandColorado,”IwhisperurgentlytoAnden.“Turningnorth.Getsomesoldiersouthere,butdon’tletherknowyou’refollowingalong.Iwanttoseewhereshe’sgoing.”BeforeAndencansayanythingelse,Iendthecall.
Itrailalongthesideofthebuildings,carefultostayintheshadowsasmuch
asIcan,andtakeashortcutthroughonealleytowardthestreetwhereIthinkCommanderJamesonhadgone.Insteadofpeeringaroundthecornerandpotentiallygivingmyselfaway,Iinsteadhuddleinthealleyandcalculatehowmuchtimehaspassed.Ifshekeptupthesamepace,andshestayedonthisstreet,thensheshouldhavewalkedpastthisalleyatleastoneminuteago.Carefully,IleanoutuntilIcancatchaquickglimpseofthestreet.Sureenough,she’salreadywalkedpastme,andIcanseethebackofherfigurehurryingaway.Thisquickglimpseisalsoenoughtotellmesomethingelse—she’stalkingintoherownmike.
IwishDaywerewithme.He’dknowinstantlythebestwaytotravelunseenthroughthesestreets.ForasecondIcontemplatecallinghim,butforhimtogethereintimewouldbetoomuchofastretch.
Instead,IfollowCommanderJameson.Itailherforagoodfourblocks,untilweenterastripofRubythatborderspartofBatalla,wheretwoorthreepyramidairshipbasessitalongthestreet.Shemakesaturnagain.Ihurrytoturnwithher—butbythetimeIlookdownthestreet,she’sgone.Perhapssheknewsomeonewasfollowingher;afterall,CommanderJamesonismuchmoreexperiencedinthissortoftrackingthanIam.Ilooktotheroofs.
Anden’svoicecracklesinmyearpiece.“Welosther,”heconfirms.“I’veputoutasilentalerttothetroopstheretosearchforherandreportimmediatelyback.Shecouldn’thavegonefar.”
“That’strue,”Iagree,butmyshoulderssag.She’ddisappearedwithoutatrace.Whohadshebeentalkingtoonhermike?Myeyesscanthestreet,tryingtofigureoutwhatshemusthavecomeherefor.Maybeshe’sscouting.Thethoughtunnervesme.
“I’mheadingback,”Ifinallywhisperintomyownmike.“Ifmysuspicionsarecorrect,thenwemighthave—”
Awhooshofair—ablindingspark—somethingexplodesbeforemyeyes.Iflinchandthrowmyselfinstinctivelytothegroundbehindanearbytrashbin.Whatwasthat?
Abullet.Ilooktothewallwhereithit.Asmallchunkofbrickismissing.Someonetriedtoshootme.MysuddenturntogobackthewayIcamemusthavebeentheonlythingthatsavedmylife.IstartplacinganotherfranticcalltoAnden.Bloodrushesthroughmyearslikeatidalwaveofnoise,blockingoutlogicandallowingthepanicin.Anotherbulletsparksagainstthemetalofthetrashbin.There’snoquestionnowthatI’munderattack.
Iclickthecalloff.WhereisCommanderJamesonshootingfrom?Arethere
otherswithher?Coloniestroops?Republicsoldiersturnedtraitorous?Idon’tknow.Ican’ttell.Ican’thearandIcan’tsee—
Throughmyrisingpanic,Metias’svoicematerializes.Staycalm,Junebug.Logicwillsaveyou.Focus,think,act.
Iclosemyeyes,takingadeep,shudderingbreath,andallowmyselfasecondtostillmymind,toconcentrateonmybrother’svoice.Thisisnotimetofallapart.Ihaveneverletemotionsgetthebestofme,andI’mnotabouttostartnow.Think,June.Don’tbestupid.Afteroverayearoftrauma,aftermonthsandmonthsofpoliticalbargaining,afterdaysofwaranddeath,Iamstartingtosuspecteverythingandeveryone.ThisishowtheColoniescouldtearusapart...notwiththeiralliesorweapons,butwiththeirpropaganda.Withfearanddesperation.
Mypanicclears.Logicsweepsbackin.First,Iyankmyowngunoutofitsholster.ThenImakeanexaggerated
gesture,likeI’mabouttodartoutfrombehindthetrashbin.Instead,Istayput—butmyfeintisenoughtoprovokeanotherbullet.Spark!Itricochetsoffthebrickwallthatmybackispressedupagainst.InstantlyIglanceatthemarkitleavesandpinpointwhereitmighthavecomefrom.(Notfromtheroofs—theangleisn’twideenough.Four,maybefivefloorsup.Notthebuildingdirectlyacrossfromme,buttheonerightnexttoit.)Ilookovertothewindowsliningthosefloors.Severalareopen.AtfirstIwanttoaimrightbackatthosewindows—butthenIremindmyselfthatImighthitsomeoneunintentionally.Instead,Istudythebuilding.Itlookslikeeitherabroadcaststationoramilitaryhall—it’scloseenoughtotheairbasesthatIwonderwhetherit’swheretheairshipsarebeingmonitoredfrom.
Whatissheuptothatinvolvestheairbases?AretheColoniesplanningasurpriseattackhere?
Iclickmymikebackon.“Anden,”IwhisperafterIinputhiscode.“Getmeoutofhere.Usemygun’stracking.”
Butmycallhasnotimetogothrough.Asplitsecondlater,anotherbulletcracksrightabovemyhead—thistimeIflinchandflattenmyselfunderneaththetrashbin.WhenIopenmyeyes,IfindmyselfstaringstraightintothecoldeyesofCommanderJameson.
Shegrabsformywrist.Iboltoutfromunderthetrashbinbeforeshecanreachme.Itwistaroundto
aimmygunather,butshe’salreadydartedaway.Herowngun’sraised.RightawayIcantellthatshe’snotaimingtokill.Why?Thequestionrunsthroughmy
mindatlightningspeed.BecausetheColoniesneedmealive—becausetheyneedmetobargainwith.
Shefires;Irollontheground.Abulletmissesmylegbyinches.Ihopontomyfeetandaimatheragain—thistimeIfire.Imissherbyahair.Sheducksbehindthetrashbin.AtthesametimeItrytoputacallthroughagain.Isucceed.“Anden,”IgaspintothemikeasIturntailandrun.“Getmeout!”
“Alreadyonourway,”Andenreplies.IsprintaroundacornerrightasIhearanothershotfiredbehindme.It’sthelastone.Rightonschedule,ajeepracestowardmeandscreechestoahaltseveralfeetawayfromme.Apairofsoldierspoursout,shieldingmewhiletwoothersrunouttothestreettowardCommanderJameson.Ialreadyknowit’stoolatetocatchher,though—shemust’vemadearunforittoo.It’salloverasquicklyasitbegan.Ihopintothejeepwiththesoldiers’help,thencollapseagainsttheseataswespeedaway.Adrenalinewashesthroughme.Myentirebodytremblesuncontrollably.
“Areyouallright?”oneofthesoldiersasks,buthisvoicesoundsfaraway.AllIcanthinkaboutiswhattheencountermeant.CommanderJamesonhadknownIwouldwaitatthatblockformyjeep;shemusthaveluredmeoutinanattempttocaptureme.Herpresenceattheairshipbaseswasnocoincidence.She’sfeedinginformationtotheColoniesaboutourrotationsandlocationshere.ThereareprobablyotherColoniessoldiershidingamongstustoo—CommanderJamesonisawantedfugitive.Shecan’tmovearoundthiseasilywithouthelp.Andwithherexperience,shecouldprobablyholdoffamanhuntforheronthesestreetslongenoughfortheColoniestoarrive.FortheColoniestoarrive.They’vetargetedtheirnextcity,andit’sgoingtobeus.
Overmyearpiece,Anden’svoicecomesonagain.“I’monmyway,”hesaysurgently.“Areyouallright?ThejeepwilltakeyoustraighttoBatallaHall,andI’llhaveafullguardonyou—”
“She’sfeedingtheminformationabouttheports,”Ibreatheintothemikebeforehecanfinish.MyvoiceshakesasIsayit.“TheColoniesareabouttoattackLosAngeles.”
IGETTHECALLABOUTJUNEASI’MSITTINGWITHEDEN.Afteramorningofexperimentations,he’sfinallyfallenasleep.Outside,cloudsblankettheentirecityinableakatmosphere.Good.Iwouldn’tknowhowtofeelifitwereabright,sunnyday,notwiththisnewsaboutCommanderJamesonandthefactthatshe’dtriedtoshootJuneoutintheopenonthestreets.Cloudssuitmymoodjustfine.
WhileIwaitimpatientlyforJunetoarriveatthehospital,IspendmytimewatchingTessthroughtheglassofherroom’swindow.Thelabteamstillsurroundsher,monitoringhervitalslikeabunchofgoddyvulturesonanoldnatureshow.Ishakemyhead.Ishouldn’tbesohardonthem.Earliertheyletmeputonasuit,sitinsidenexttoTess,andholdherhand.Shewasunconscious,ofcourse,butshecouldstilltightenherfingersaroundmine.SheknowsI’mhere.ThatI’mwaitingforhercure.
Nowthelabteamlookslikethey’reinjectingherwithsomesortofformulamixedfromabatchofliquidmadefromEden’sbloodcells.HellifIknowwhat’llhappennext.Theirfacesarehiddenbehindreflectiveglassmasks,turningthemintosomethingalien.Tess’seyesstayclosed,andherskin’sanunhealthyyellow.
ShehasthevirusthattheColoniesspread,Ihavetoremindmyself.No,thattheRepublicspread.Damnthismemoryofmine.
Pascao,Baxter,andtheotherPatriotsstaycampedoutatthehospitaltoo.Wherethehellelsedotheyhavetogo,anyway?Astheminutesdragon,Pascaotakesaseatnexttomeandrubshishandstogether.“She’shanginginthere,”hemutters,hiseyeslingeringonTess.“Buttherehavebeenreportsofsomeotheroutbreaksinthecity.Camemostlyfromsomerefugees.HaveyouseenthenewsontheJumboTrons?”
Ishakemyhead.Myjawistensewithrage.WhenisJunearriving?Theysaidtheywerebringingherhereoveraquarterofanhourago.“Haven’tgoneanywhereexcepttoseemybrotherandtoseeTess.”
Pascaosighs,rubbingahandacrosshisface.He’scarefulnottoaskaboutJune.I’dapologizetohimaboutmytemper,butI’mtooangrytocare.“Threequarantinezonessetupnowindowntown.Ifyou’restillplanningtoexecuteyourlittlestunt,wegottamoveoutwithinthenextday.”
“That’sallthetimewe’llneed.Iftherumorswe’rehearingfromJuneandtheElectoraretrue,thenthiswillbeourbestchance.”ThethoughtofpartsofLosAngelesbeingcordonedoffforquarantinessendsadark,uncomfortablenostalgiathroughme.Everything’ssowrong,andI’msotired.I’msotiredofworryingaboutitall,aboutwhetherornotthepeopleIcareaboutwillmakeitthroughthenightorsurvivetheday.Atthesametime,Ican’tsleep.Eden’swordsfromthismorningstillringinmythoughts.MaybeeveryoneintheRepubliccanbeasoldier.Myfingersrunalongthepaperclipringadorningmyfinger.IfJunehadgotteninjuredthismorning,Iwonderifthelastshredsofmysanitywould’vevanished.IfeellikeI’mhangingonbyathread.Iguessthat’strueinaprettyliteralsensetoo—myheadacheshavebeenrelentlesstoday,andI’vegrownusedtotheperpetualpainpulsingatthebackofmyhead.Justafewmonths,Ithink.Justafewmonths,likethedoctorssaid,andthenmaybethemedicationwillhaveworkedenoughtoletmegetthatsurgery.Keephangingon.
Atmysilence,Pascaoturnshispaleeyesonme.“It’sgonnabedangerous,whatyou’vetoldme,”hesays.Heseemslikehe’streadingcarefully.“Somecivilianswilldie.There’sjustnowayaroundit.”
“Idon’tthinkwehaveachoice,”Ireply,returninghislook.“Nomatterhowwarpedthiscountryis,it’sstilltheirhomeland.Wehavetocallthemtoaction.”
Shoutsechofromthehallbeyondourown.PascaoandIbothstoptolistenforasecond—andifIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dswearitwastheElector.Weird.I’mnotexactlyAnden’sbiggestfan,butI’veneverheardhimlosehistemper.
Thedoubledoorsattheendofthehallswingopenwithabang—suddenly,theshoutsfillthehall.Andenstormsinwithhisusualcrowdofsoldiers,whileJunekeepsupbesidehim.June.Relieffloodsthroughmybody.Ihoptomyfeet.HerfacelightsupasIhurryovertoher.
“I’mokay,”shesays,wavingmeoffbeforeIcanevenopenmymouth.Shesoundsimpatientaboutit,likeshe’sspenttheentiredayconvincingeveryoneelseofthesamething.“They’rebeingoverlycautious,bringingmehere—”
Icouldcarelessifthey’rebeingoverlycautious.Icutheroffandpullherintoatightembrace.Aweightliftsfrommychest,andtherestofmyangercomesfloodingin.“You’retheElector,”IsnapatAnden.“You’rethedamnElectoroftheRepublic.Can’tyoumakesureyourowngoddyPrinceps-Electisn’tassassinatedbyaprisoneryouguyscan’tevenseemtokeepimprisoned?Whatkindofbodyguardsdoyouhave,anyway—apackoffirst-yearcadets?”
Andenshootsmeadangerouslook,buttomysurprise,hestayssilent.IpullawayfromJunesoIcanholdherfaceinmyhands.“You’reokay,right?”Iaskurgently.“You’recompletelyokay?”
Juneraisesaneyebrowatme,thengivesmeaquick,reassuringkiss.“Yes.I’mcompletelyokay.”ShecastsaglanceoveratAnden,buthe’stoodistractedtalkingtooneofhissoldiersnow.
“FindmethemenassignedtoretrievethePrinceps-Elect,”hesnapsatthesoldier.Darkcircleslinetheskinunderhiseyes,andhisfacelooksbothhaggardandfurious.“Ifluckhadn’tbeenonourside,Jamesonwouldhavekilledher.I’vehalfamindtolabelthemalltraitors.There’splentyofroominthefiringsquadyardforallofthem.”ThesoldiersnapstoattentionandrushesoffwithseveralotherstodoasAndensaid.Myownangerwanes,andachillrunsthroughmeathowfamiliarhiswrathfeels.LikeI’mlookingathisfather.
Nowhefacesme.Hisvoiceturnscalmer.“Thelabteamtellsmethatyourbrotherpulledthroughhisexperimentationsofarverybravely,”hesays.“Iwantedtothankyouagainfor—”
“Don’tlayitontoothick,”Iinterruptwitharaisedeyebrow.“Thiswholethingisn’toveryet.”Aftermoredaysliketoday,whereEden’sgoingtofadeevenfasterfromalltheexperiments,Imightnotbesopolite.Ilowermyvoice,makinganefforttosoundcivilagain.It’shalfworking.“Let’stalkinprivate.Elector,Ihavesomeideastorunbyyou.WiththisrecentnewsfromCommanderJameson,wemightjusthaveanopportunitytostirupsometroublefortheColonies.You,me,June,andthePatriots.”
Anden’seyesdarkenatthat,andhismouthtightensinanuncertainfrownashescanshisaudience.Pascao’sgiant,ever-presentgrindoesn’tseemtoimprovehismood.Afterafewseconds,though,henodsathissoldiers.“Getusaconferenceroom,”hesays.“Iwantsecuritycamsoff.”
Hissoldiersscrambletodohisbidding.Aswefallintostepbehindhim,IexchangealongglancewithJune.She’sokay,she’sunharmed.Andyet,
I’mafraidthatshe’lldisappearifI’mcarelessenoughtolookaway.Iforcemyselftoholdbackonaskingheraboutwhathappeneduntilwe’reallinaprivateroom—andfromthelookonherface,she’salsowaitingfortherightmoment.Myhandachestoholdhers.Ikeepthattomyselftoo.Ourdancearoundeachotheralwaysseemslikeit’sdoomedtorepeatitselfoverandoveragain.
“So,”Andensaysoncewe’vesettledintoaroomandhispatrolhasdisabledallofthecams.Heleansbackinoneofthechairsandsurveysmewithapenetratinglook.“PerhapsweshouldstartwithwhathappenedtoourPrinceps-Electthismorning.”
Juneliftsherchin,butherhandsshakeeversoslightly.“IsawCommanderJamesoninRubysector.Myguessisthatshewasintheareatoscoutlocations—andshemusthaveknownwhereIwouldbe.”ImarvelathowsteadyJunesounds.“Itailedherforawhile,untilwereachedthestripofairshipbasesthatborderRubyandBatalla.Sheattackedmethere.”
Eventhisshortofasummaryisenoughtomakemeseered.Andensighsandrunsahandthroughhishair.“WesuspectthatCommanderJamesonmayhavegivensomelocationsandschedulestotheColoniesaboutLosAngelesairshipbases.ShemayhavealsoattemptedtokidnapMs.Iparisforbargainingpower.”
“DoesthatmeantheColoniesareplanningtoattackLA?”Pascaoasks.Ialreadyknowhisnextthought.“Butthatwouldmeanit’strue,Denverhasfallen...”HetrailsoffatAnden’sexpression.
“We’rereceivingsomeearlyrumors,”Andenreplies.“ThewordisthattheColonieshaveabombthatcanleveltheentirecity.Theonlythingholdingthembackfromusingitisaninternationalban.Theywouldn’twanttofinallyforceAntarcticatogetinvolved,nowwouldthey?”SincewhendidAndenbecomesosarcastic?“Atanyrate,iftheyattacknow,wewillbehard-pressedtohaveacurereadytoshowAntarcticabeforetheColoniesoverwhelmus.Wecandefendagainstthem.Wecan’tdefendagainstthemandAfrica.”
Ihesitate,thenbringupthethoughtsthathavebeenchurninginmymind.“ItalkedtoEdenthismorning,duringhisexperimentation.Hegavemeanidea.”
“Andwhat’sthat?”Juneasks.Ilookather.Stillaslovelyasever,butevenJuneisstartingtoshowthe
stressfromthisinvasion,hershouldersslightlyhunched.Myeyesturnback
toAnden.“Surrender,”Isay.Hehadn’texpectedthat.“Youwantmetoraisethewhiteflagtothe
Colonies?”“Yes,surrender.”Ilowermyvoice.“Yesterdayafternoon,theColonies’
Chancellormademeanoffer.HetoldmethatifIcouldgettheRepublic’speopletoriseupinsupportoftheColoniesandagainsttheRepublicsoldiers,he’dmakesurethatEdenandIareprotectedoncetheColonieswinthewar.Let’ssaythatyousurrender,andatthesametime,IoffertomeettheChancellortogivehimtheanswertohisrequest,thatI’mgoingtoaskthepeopletoembracetheColoniesastheirnewgovernment.YounowhaveachancetocatchtheColoniesoffguard.TheChancelloralreadyassumesyou’regoingtosurrenderanydaynow,anyway.”
“Fakingasurrenderisagainstinternationallaw,”Junemumblestoherself,althoughshestudiesmecarefully.Icantellthatshe’snotexactlyagainsttheidea.“Idon’tknowwhethertheAntarcticanswillappreciatethat,andthewholepointofthisistopersuadethemtohelpusout,isn’tit?”
Ishakemyhead.“Theydidn’tseemtocarethattheColoniesbroketheceasefirewithoutwarningus,backwhenthisallerupted.”IglanceatAnden.Hewatchesmeclosely,hischinrestingonhishand.“Nowyougettoreturnthefavor,yeah?”
“WhathappenswhenyoumeetwiththeChancellor?”hefinallyasks.“Afalsesurrendercanonlylastsolongbeforeweneedtoact.”
Ileantowardhim,myvoiceurgent.“YouknowwhatEdensaidtomethismorning?‘ToobadeveryoneintheRepubliccan’tbeasoldier.’Buttheycan.”
Andenstayssilent.“LetmemarkeachofthesectorsintheRepublic,somethingthatwilllet
thepeopleknowthattheycan’tjustliedownandlettheColoniestakeovertheirhomes,somethingthatwillaskthemtowaitformysignalandremindthemwhatwe’reallfightingfor.Then,whenImaketheannouncementthattheColonies’Chancellorwantsmetomake,Iwon’tcallonthepeopletoembracetheColonies.I’llcallthemtoaction.”
“Andwhatiftheydon’trespondtoyourcall?”Junesays.Ishootheraquicksmile.“Havesomefaith,sweetheart.Thepeoplelove
me.”Inspiteofherself,Junesmilesback.IturntoAnden.Seriousnessreplacesmyflashofamusement.“The
peoplelovetheRepublicmorethanyouthink,”Isay.“MorethanIthought.YouknowthenumberoftimesIsawevacueesaroundheresingingpatrioticRepublicsongs?YouknowhowmuchgraffitiI’veseenoverthelastfewmonthsthatsupportbothyouandthecountry?”Anoteofpassionentersmyvoice.“Thepeopledobelieveinyou.Theybelieveinus.Andtheywillfightbackforusifwecallonthem—they’llbetheonesrippingdownColoniesflags,protestinginfrontofColoniesoffices,turningtheirownhomesintotrapsforinvadingColoniessoldiers.”Inarrowmyeyes.“They’llbecomeamillionversionsofme.”
AndenandIstareateachother.Finally,hesmiles.“Well,”Junesaystome,“whileyou’rebusybecomingtheColonies’
mostwantedcriminal,thePatriotsandIcanjoininyourstunts.We’llpullthemonanationallevel.IfAntarcticaprotests,theRepubliccanjustsaytheyweretheactionsofafewvigilantes.IftheColonieswanttoplaydirty,thenlet’splaydirty.”
1700HOURS.BATALLAHALL.68°F.
IHATESENATEMEETINGS.IHATETHEMWITHAPASSION—
nothingbutaseaofbickeringpoliticiansandtalkingheads,talkingtalkingtalkingallthetimewhenIcouldinsteadbeoutinthestreets,givingmymindandbodyahealthyworkout.ButaftertheplanthatDay,Anden,andIhaveconcocted,there’snochoicebuttobrieftheSenate.NowIsitinthecircularmeetingchamberatBatallaHall,myseatfacingAndenfromacrosstheroom,tryingtoignoretheintimidatinglooksfromtheSenators.FeweventsleavemefeelingmorelikeachildthanSenatemeetings.
Andenaddresseshisrestlessaudience.“AttacksagainstourbasesinVegashavepickedupsinceDenverfell,”hesays.“We’veseenAfricansquadronsapproachingthecity.Tomorrow,Iheadouttomeetmygeneralsthere.”Hehesitateshere.Iholdmybreath.IknowhowmuchAndenhatestheideaofvoicingdefeattoanyone,especiallytotheColonies.Helooksatme—mycuetohelphim.He’ssotired.Weallare.“Ms.Iparis,”hecallsout.“Ifyouplease,Ihandthefloorovertoyoutoexplainyourstoryandyouradvice.”
Itakeadeepbreath.AddressingtheSenate:theonethingIhatemorethanattendingSenatemeetings,madeevenworsebythefactthatIhavetosellthemalie.“Bynow,I’msureallofyouhaveheardaboutCommanderJameson’ssupposedworkfortheColonies.Basedonwhatweknow,itseemslikelythattheColonieswillhitLosAngeleswithasurpriseattackverysoon.Iftheydo,andtheattacksonVegascontinue,wewon’tlastforlong.AftertalkingwithDayandthePatriots,wesuggestthattheonlywaytoprotectourciviliansandtopossiblynegotiateafairtreatyistoannounceoursurrendertotheColonies.”
Stunnedsilence.Then,theroomburstsintochatter.SergeisthefirsttoraisehisvoiceandchallengeAnden.“Withallduerespect,Elector,”hesays,hisvoice
quiveringwithirritation,“youdidnotdiscussthiswithyourotherPrinceps-Elects.”
“ItwasnotsomethingIhadanopportunitytodiscusswithyoubeforenow,”Andenreplies.“Ms.Iparis’sknowledgecomesonlybecauseshewasunfortunateenoughtoexperienceitfirsthand.”
EvenMariana,oftenonAnden’sside,raiseshervoiceagainsttheidea.“Thisisadangerousnegotiation,”shesays.Atleastshespeakscalmly.“Ifyouaredoingthistospareourlives,thenIrecommendyouandMs.Iparisreconsiderimmediately.HandingthepeopletotheColonieswillnotprotectthem.”
TheotherSenatorsdon’tshowthesamerestraint.“Asurrender?WehavekepttheColoniesoffourlandforalmostahundred
years!”“Surelywe’renotallthatweakenedyet?Whathavetheydone,asidefrom
temporarilywinningDenver?”“Elector,thisissomethingyoushouldhavediscussedwithallofus—evenin
themidstofthiscrisis!”Ilookonaseachvoiceriseshigherthanthenext,untiltheentirechamber
fillswiththesoundofinsults,anger,anddisbelief.SomespewhatredoverDay.SomecursetheColonies.SomebegAndentoreconsider,toaskformoreinternationalhelp,topleadfortheUnitedNationstostopsealingourports.Noise.
“Thisisanoutrage!”oneSenator(thin,probablynomorethanahundredandfortypounds,withagleamingbaldhead)barks,lookingatmeasifI’mresponsiblefortheentirecountry’sdownfall.“Surelywe’renottakingdirectionfromalittlegirl?AndfromDay?Youmustbejoking.We’llhandthecountryoverbasedontheadviceofsomedamnboywhoshouldstillbeonournation’scriminallist!”
Andennarrowshiseyes.“CarefulhowyourefertoDay,Senator,beforethepeopleturntheirbacksonyou.”
TheSenatorsneersatAndenandraiseshimselfupashighashecan.“Elector,”hesays,histoneexaggeratedandmocking.“YouaretheleaderoftheRepublicofAmerica.Youhavepoweroverthisentirecountry.Andhereyouare,heldhostagetothesuggestionsofsomeonewhotriedtohaveyoukilled.”Mytemperhasbeguntorise.IlowermyheadsothatIdon’thavetolookattheSenator.“Inmyopinion,sir,youneedtodosomethingbeforeyourentiregovernment—andyourentirepopulation—seesyouasnothingbutacowardly,weak-willed,backroom-negotiatingpushoverbowingtothedemandsofa
teenagegirlandacriminalandaragtagteamofterrorists.Yourfatherwouldhave—”
Andenjumpstohisfeetandslamshishanddownonthetable.Instantlythechamberturnssilent.
“Senator,”Andensaysquietly.Themanstaresback,butwithlessconvictionthanhehadtwosecondsago.“Youarecorrectaboutonlyonething.Asmyfather’sson,IamtheElectoroftheRepublic.Iamthelaw.EverythingIdecidedirectlyaffectswholivesordies.”IstudyAnden’sfacewithagrowingsenseofworry.Hisgentle,soft-voicedselfisslowlydisappearingbehindtheveilofdarknessandviolenceinheritedfromhisfather.“You’ddowelltorememberwhathappenedtothoseSenatorswhoactuallyplottedmyfailedassassination.”
ThechamberfallssoquietIfeellikeIcanhearthebeadsofsweatrollingdowntheSenators’faces.EvenMarianaandSergehaveturnedpale.InthemidstofthemallstandsAnden,hisfaceamaskoffury,hisjawtense,andhiseyesadeep,broodingstorm.Heturnstome—Ifeelanawful,electricshudderrunthroughmybody,butIkeepmygazesteady.Iamtheonlyoneinthechamberwillingtolookhimintheeye.
Evenifoursurrenderisafakeone,onethattheSenatorsaren’tmeanttounderstand,IwonderhowAndenwilldealwiththisgrouponceit’sallover.
Maybehewon’thaveto.Maybewe’llbelongtoadifferentcountry,ormaybeAndenandIwillbothbedead.
Inthismoment,sittingamongstadividedSenateandayoungElectorstrugglingtoholdthemtogether,Ifinallyseemypathclearly.Idon’tbelong.Ishouldn’tbehere.Therealizationhitsmesohard,Ifinditsuddenlyhardtobreathe.
AndenandtheSenatorsexchangeafewmoretensewords,butthenit’sallover,andwefileoutoftheroom,anuneasycrowd.IfindAnden—hisdeepreduniformabrightmarkeragainsttheSenators’black—inthehallandpullhimaside.“They’llcomearound,”Isay,tryingtoofferreassuranceinaseaofhostility.“Theydon’thaveachoice.”
Heseemstorelax,ifonlyforasecond.Afewsimplewordsfrommeareenoughtodissipatehisanger.“Iknow.ButIdon’twantthemtohavenochoice.Iwantthemsolidlybehindmeoftheirownwill.”Hesighs.“Canwespeakinprivate?I’vesomethingtodiscusswithyou.”
Istudyhisface,tryingtoguessatwhathewantstosay,dreadingit.Finally,Inod.“Myapartment’scloser.”
Weheadouttohisjeepanddriveinsilence,allthewaytomyhigh-risein
Rubysector.There,wemakeourwayupstairsandentermyapartmentwithoutaword.Olliegreetsus,asenthusiasticasever.Iclosethedoorbehindme.
Anden’stemperhaslongvanished.Helooksaroundwitharestlessexpression,thenturnsbacktome.“DoyoumindifIsit?”
“Please,”Ireply,takingaseatmyselfatthediningtable.TheElectorPrimo,askingforpermissiontosit?
Andentakestheseatbesidemewithallofhissignaturegrace,andthenrubshistempleswithwearyhands.“Ihavesomegoodnews,”hesays.Hetriestosmile,butIcanseehowheavyitis.“I’vemadeadealwithAntarctica.”
Iswallowhard.“And?”“They’veconfirmedthattheywillsendmilitarysupport—someairsupport
fornow,moregroundsupportwhenweprovewe’vefoundacure,”Andenreplies.“AndtheywillagreetotreatDay.”Hedoesn’tlookatme.“InexchangeforDakota.Ihadnochoice.I’mgivingthemourlargestterritory.”
Myheartjumpswithanoverwhelmingsenseofjoyandrelief—andatthesametime,itsinkswithsympathyforAnden.He’sbeenforcedtofragmentthecountry.Givingupourmostpreciousresource;everybodyintheworld’smostpreciousresource.Itwasinevitable.Everywincomeswithasacrifice.“Thankyou,”Isay.
“Don’tthankmeyet.”Hiswrysmilequicklyturnsintoagrimace.“Wearehangingbyathread.Idon’tknowiftheirhelpwillcomefastenough.Thewordfromthewarfrontisthatwe’relosinggroundinVegas.Ifourplanswiththisphonysurrenderfail,ifwedon’tfindacuresoon,thiswarwillbeoverbeforeAntarctica’ssupporteverarrives.”
“DoyouthinkfindingacurewillmaketheColoniesstop?”Iaskquietly.Andenshakeshishead.“Wedon’thavemanyoptions,”hereplies.“Butwe
havetohangonuntilhelparrives.”Hefallssilentforamoment.“IheadtothewarfrontinVegastomorrow.Ourtroopsneedit.”
Rightintothethickofwar.Itrytostaycalm.“AreyourPrinceps-Electsgoingtoo?”Iask.“YourSenators?”
“Onlymygeneralswilljoinme,”Andenreplies.“You’renotgoingtocome,andneitherareMarianaandSerge.SomeoneneedstoholdfirminLosAngeles.”
Andhere’sthemeatofwhathewantstotellme.MymindspinsoverwhatIknowhe’llsaynext.
Andenleansonthetableandthreadshisglovedfingerstogether.“SomeoneneedstoholdfirminLosAngeles,”herepeats,“whichmeansoneofmyPrinceps-ElectswillneedtotakemyplaceasanactingElector.Shewouldneed
tocontroltheSenate,keepthemincheckwhileI’mawaywiththetroops.Iwouldselectthisperson,ofcourse,andtheSenatewouldconfirmit.”Asmall,sadsmileplaysattheedgesofhislips,asifhealreadyknowswhatmyanswerwillbe.“I’vealreadyspokenindividuallywithMarianaandSergeaboutthis,andtheyarebotheagerformyappointment.NowIneedtoknowwhetheryouare,aswell.”
Iturnmyheadawayandlookouttheapartmentwindow.ThethoughtofbecominganactingElectoroftheRepublic—eventhoughmychancesofbeingchosenpaleincomparisontothatofMarianaandSerge—shouldexciteme,butitdoesn’t.
Andenwatchesmecarefully.“Youcantellme,”hefinallysays.“Irealizewhataturningpointthisdecisionis,andI’vesensedyourdiscomfortforquitesometime.”Hegivesmealevelstare.“Tellmethetruth,June.DoyoureallywanttobeaPrinceps-Elect?”
Ifeelastrangeemptiness.Ihadbeencontemplatingthisforalongtime,mydisinterestandwearinesswiththepoliticsoftheRepublic,thebickeringintheSenate,thefightingamongSenatorsandthePrinceps-Elects.I’dthoughtthiswouldbehardtosaytohim.Butnowthathe’shere,waitingformyanswer,thewordscomeeasily,calmly.
“Anden,youknowthattheroleofaPrinceps-Electhasbeenahugehonorforme.Butastimegoeson,Icantellthatsomething’smissing,andnowIknowwhatitis.Yougettoheadoffandleadyourarmyagainstourenemies,whileDayandthePatriotsarefightingbackagainsttheColoniesintheirownguerillaway.Imissbeingoutinthefield,workingasajunioragentandrelyingonmyself.Imissthedayswhenthingswerestraightforwardinsteadofpolitical,whenIcouldeasilysensetherightpathandwhatIshoulddo.I...missdoingwhatmybrotherhelpedtrainmetodo.”Iholdmygazesteady.“I’msorry,Anden,butIdon’tknowwhetherI’mcutouttobeapolitician.I’masoldier.Idon’tthinkyoushouldconsidermeasatemporaryElectorinyourabsence,andI’mnotsurewhetherIshouldcontinueonasyourPrinceps-Elect.”
Andensearchesmyeyes.“Isee,”hefinallysays.Althoughthere’satwingeofsadnessinhisvoice,heseemstoagree.Ifthere’sonethingAndenexcelsat,evenmorethanDay,it’sunderstandingwhereI’mcomingfrom.
Amomentlater,Iseeanotheremotioninhiseyes—envy.He’senviousthatIhavethechoicetostepawayfromtheworldofpolitics,thatIcanturntosomethingelse,whenAndenwillforeverandalwaysbeourElector,someonethecountryneedstoleanon.Hecanneverstepawaywithacleanconscience.
Heclearshisthroat.“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”“Iwanttojointhetroopsinthestreets,”Ireply.I’msosureofmydecision
thistime,soexcitedbytheprospect,thatIcanhardlybearit.“Sendmebackoutthere.Letmefight.”Ilowermyvoice.“Ifwelose,thennoneofthePrinceps-Electswillmatteranyway.”
“Ofcourse,”Andensays,nodding.Helooksaroundtheroomwithanuncertainexpression,andbehindhisbravefrontIcanseetheboykinginhimstrugglingtoholdon.Thenhenoticesarumpledcoathangingatthefootofmybed.Helingersonit.
I’dneverbotheredtoputDay’scoataway.Andenfinallylooksawayfromit.Idon’tneedtotellhimthatDayhadspent
thenight—Icanalreadyseetherealizationonhisface.Iblush.Ihavealwaysbeengoodathidingmyemotions,butthistimeI’membarrassedthatsomethingaboutthatnight—theheatofDay’sskinagainstmine,thetouchofhishandsmoothingmyhairawayfrommyface,thebrushofhislipsagainstmyneck—willshowupinmyeyes.
“Well,”hesaysafteralongpause.Hegivesmeasmall,sadsmile,thenrises.“Youareasoldier,Ms.Iparis,throughandthrough—butithasbeenanhonortoseeyouasaPrinceps-Elect.”TheElectoroftheRepublicbowstome.“Whateverhappensfromhere,Ihopeyourememberthat.”
“Anden,”Iwhisper.Thememoryofhisdark,furiousfaceintheSenatechambercomesbacktome.“Whenyou’reinVegas,promisemethatyou’llstayyourself.Don’tturnintosomeoneyou’renot.Okay?”
Hemaynothavebeensurprisedbymyanswer,orbyDay’scoat.Butthisseemstocatchhimoffguard.Heblinks,confusedforasecond.Thenheunderstands.Heshakeshishead.“Ihavetogo.Ihavetoleadmymen,justlikemyfatherdid.”
“That’snotwhatImean,”Isaycarefully.Hestrugglesforamomenttofindthenextwords.“It’snosecrethowcruel
myfatherwas,orhowmanyatrocitieshecommitted.TheTrials,theplagues...”Andentrailsoffalittle,thelightinhisgreeneyesturningdistantashedwellsonmemoriesofsomeonefewofushadevercometoknow.“Buthefoughtwithhismen.Youunderstandthis,perhapsmorethananyone.Hedidn’thangbackinaSenatechamberwhilehesenthistroopsofftodie.Whenhewasyoungandbroughtthecountryfromalawlessmesstostrictmartiallaw,hewasoutinthestreetsandinfrontofhissquadrons.Hefoughtatthewarfrontitself,shootingdownColoniesjets.”Andenpausestogivemeaquicklook.“I’mnot
tryingtodefendanythinghedid.Butifhewasanything,hewasunafraid.Hewonhismilitary’sloyaltythroughaction,howeverruthless....Iwanttoboostourtroops’moraletoo,andIcan’tdoitwhilehidingoutinLA.I’m—”
“Youarenotyourfather,”Isay,holdinghisgazewithmyown.“You’reAnden.Youdon’thavetofollowinhisfootsteps;youhaveyourown.You’retheElectornow.Youdon’thavetobelikehim.”
IthinkbackonmyownloyaltytotheformerElector,ofallthevideofootageofhimshoutingordersfromthecockpitofafighterjet,orheadinguptanksinthestreets.Hewasalwaysonthefrontlines.Hewasfearless.Now,asIlookatAnden,Icanseethatsamefearlessnessburningsteadilyinhiseyes,hisneedtoasserthimselfasaworthyleaderofhiscountry.Whenhisfatherwasyoung,perhapshehadalsobeenlikeAnden—idealistic,fullofhopesanddreams,ofthenoblestintentions,braveanddriven.HowhadheslowlytwistedintotheElectorwhocreatedsuchadarknation?Whatpathhadhechosentofollow?Suddenly,forhoweverbriefasecond,IfeellikeIunderstandtheformerRepublic.AndIknowthatAndenwon’tgodownthatsameroad.
Andenreturnsmylook,asifhearingmyunspokenwords...andforthefirsttimeinmonths,Iseesomeofthatdarkcloudliftfromhiseyes,theblacknessthatgivesbirthtohismomentsoffurioustemper.
Withouthisfather’sshadowintheway,he’sbeautiful.“I’lldomybest,”hewhispers.
THESECONDNIGHTOFTHECOLONIES’CEASEFIRE.WELL,NOPOINTINRETURNINGHOMETONIGHT.PASCAOandIaregonnarunthroughLosAngeles,markingdoorsandwallsandalertingthepeoplequietlytoourcause,andwemightaswelldoitfromacentrallocationlikethehospital.Besides,IneededtositwithEdenforawhile.Aneveningofbloodtestshaven’ttreatedhimwell—he’sthrownuptwicesinceI’vebeenhere.Whileanurserushesoutoftheroomwithabucketinhand,Ipouraglassofwaterformybrother.Heguzzlesitdown.
“Anyluck?”heasksweakly.“Doyouknowifthey’vefoundanythingyet?”
“Notyet.”Itaketheemptyglassfromhimandsetitbackonatray.“I’llcheckinwiththeminalittlebit,though.Seehowthey’redoing.Betterbeworthallthis.”
Edensighs,closeshiseyes,andleanshisheadagainstthemountainofpillowsstackedonhisbed.“I’mfine,”hewhispers.“How’syourfriend?Tess?”
Tess.Shehasn’twokenupyet,andnowIfindmyselfwishingthatwecouldgobacktowhenshewasstillabletoshovethelabteamaround.Iswallowhard,tryingtoreplacemymentalimageofhersicklyappearancewiththesweet,cheeryfaceI’veknownforyears.“She’sasleep.Labsaysherfeverhasn’tbroken.”
Edengritshisteethandlooksbackatthescreenmonitoringhisvitals.“Sheseemsnice,”hefinallysays.“FromeverythingI’veheard.”
Ismile.“Sheis.Afterallthisisover,maybethetwoofyoucanhangoutorsomething.You’dgetalong.”Ifweallpullthroughthis,Iaddtomyself,andthenhurriedlybanishthethought.Damn,everydayit’sgettingharderandhardertokeepmychinup.
Ourconversationendsafterthat,butEdenkeepsonehandgrippedtightlyinmyown.Hiseyesstayclosed.Afterawhile,hisbreathingchanges
intothesteadyrhythmofsleep,andhishandfallsawaytorestonhisblanket.Ipulltheblanketuptocoverhimtohischin,watchhimforafewmoreseconds,andthenstand.Atleasthecanstillsleepprettysoundly.Idon’t.Everyhourorso,forthelasttwodays,Ishakemyselfoutofsomegruesomenightmareandhavetowalkitoffbeforeattemptingtosleepagain.Myheadachestayswithme,aconstant,dullcompanion,remindingmeofmytickingclock.
IopenthedoorandsneakoutasquietlyasIcan.Thehall’semptyexceptforafewnurseshereandthere.AndPascao.He’sbeenwaitingformeononeofthehall’sbenches.Whenheseesme,hegetsupandflashesmeabriefgrin.
“Theothersaregettingintoposition,”hesays.“We’vegotabouttwodozenRunners,allinall,alreadyoutthereandmarkingthesectors.Ithinkit’sabouttimeforthetwoofustoheadouttoo.”
“Readytorousethepeople?”Isay,halfjoking,asheleadsmedownthehall.
“Theexcitementofitallismakingmybonesache.”Pascaopushesopenasetofdoubledoorsatthehall’send,ushersusintoalargerwaitingroom,andthenintoanunusedhospitalroomwiththelightsstillturnedoff.Heflicksthemon.Myeyesgoimmediatelytosomethinglyingonthebed.Itlookslikeapairofsuits,darkwithgrayoutlines,bothlaidoutneatlyontopofthesterileblankets.Besidethesuitsissomekindofequipmentthatlooksalittlelikeguns.IglanceatPascao,whoshoveshishandsintohispockets.“Checktheseout,”hesaysinalowvoice.“WhenIwasthrowingideasaroundthisafternoonwithBaxterandacoupleofRepublicsoldiers,theyloanedoutthesesuitsforusRunners.Itshouldhelpyouinparticular.Junesayssheusessuitsandairlauncherslikethesetogetaroundthecityquickly,withoutbeingdetected.Here.”Hetossesmeone.“Throwthison.”
Ifrownatthesuit.Itdoesn’tlooklikeanythingparticularlyspecial,butIdecidetogivePascaothebenefitofthedoubt.
“I’llbeinthenextroom,”Pascaosaysasheswingshisownsuitoverhisshoulder.Henudgesmyshoulderashepasses.“Withthesethings,weshouldhavenotroublecoveringLosAngelestonight.”
Istarttowarnhimthat,withmyrecentheadachesandmedications,I’mprobablynotstrongenoughtokeepupwithhimaroundtheentirecity—buthe’salreadyoutthedoor,leavingmealoneintheroom.Istudythesuitagain,thenunbuttonmyshirt.
Thesuit’ssurprisinglyfeatherweight,andfitscomfortablyfrommyfeetallthewaytomyzipped-upneck.Iadjustitaroundmyelbowsandknees,thenwalkaroundforabit.Tomyshock,myarmsandlegsfeelstrongerthanusual.Muchstronger.Itryaquickjump.Thesuitabsorbsalmostallofmyweight’sforce,andwithoutmucheffortI’mabletojumphighenoughtoclearthebed.Ibendonearm,thentheother.TheyfeelstrongenoughtoliftsomethingheavierthanwhatI’vebeenusedtoforthepastseveralmonths.Asuddenthrillrushesthroughme.
Icanruninthis.Pascaorapsonmydoor,thencomesbackinwithhisownsuiton.
“How’sitfeel,prettyboy?”heasks,lookingmeover.“Fitsyounicely.”“Whatarethesefor?”Ireply,stilltestingmynewphysicallimits.“Whatdoyouthink?TheRepublicusuallyissuesthesetotheirsoldiers
forphysicallytaxingmissions.Therearespecialspringsinstallednearjoints—elbows,knees,whatever.Inotherwords,it’llmakeyoualittleacrobatichero.”
Incredible.NowthatPascao’smentionedit,Icanfeeltheveryslightpushandpullofsomesortofspringalongmyelbows,andthesubtleliftthespringsgivemykneeswheneverIbendthem.“Itfeelsgood,”Isay,whilePascaowatchesmewithalookofapproval.“Reallygood.ItfeelslikeIcanscaleabuildingagain.”
“Here’swhatI’mthinking,”Pascaosays,hisvoiceloweringagaintoawhisper.Hislightheartedattitudefades.“IftheColonieslandtheirairshipshereinLAaftertheElectorannouncesasurrender,theRepublicwillgetitstroopsintopositiontostageasurpriseattackonthoseairships.TheycancrippleahellofalotofthembeforetheColoniesevenrealizewhatwe’reupto.I’llleadthePatriotsinwiththeRepublic’steams,andwe’llwireupsomeoftheairshipbasestoblowupshipsthataredockedonthem.”
“Soundslikeaplan.”Iflexoneofmyarmsgingerly,marvelingatthestrengththatthesuitgivesme.Myhearthammersinmychest.IfIdon’tcarryoutthisplanjustright,andtheChancellorfiguresoutwhatwe’rereallyupto,thentheRepublicwilllosetheadvantageofourfakesurrender.Weonlygetoneshotatthis.
Weslideopenthehospitalroom’sglassdoorsandheadoutontothebalcony.Thenight’scoolairrefreshesme,takingawaysomeofthegriefandstressofthelastfewdays.Withthissuit,Ifeelalittlelikemyselfagain.Iglanceupatthebuildings.“Shouldwetestthesethingsout?”IaskPascao,
hoistingtheairlauncheronmyshoulder.Pascaogrins,thentossesmeacanofbrightredspraypaint.“Youtook
thewordsrightoutofmymouth.”Sooffwego.IscaledowntothefirstfloorsofastthatInearlylosemy
footing,andthenmakemywayeffortlesslytotheground.Wesplitup,eachcoveringadifferentsectionofthecity.AsIrunmysector,Ican’thelpbutsmile.I’mfreeagain,Icantastethewindandtouchthesky.Inthismoment,mytroublesmeltawayandonceagainI’mabletorunawayfrommyproblems—I’mabletoblendrightinwiththerustandrubbleofthecity,changingitintosomethingthatbelongstome.
ImakemywaythroughTanagashisector’sdarkalleysuntilIcomeacrosslandmarkbuildings,placeswhereIknowmostpeoplewillhavetopassby,andthentakeoutmyspraypaintcan.Iwritethefollowingonthewall:
LISTENFORME.Belowthat,IdrawtheonethingIknoweveryonewillrecognizeas
comingfromme—aredstreakpaintedontoanoutlineofaface.ImarkeverythingIcanthinkof.WhenI’mfinished,Iusetheair
launchertotraveltoaneighboringsector,andthere,Irepeattheentireprocess.Hourslater,myhairdrenchedinsweatandmymusclesaching,ImakemywaybacktotheCentralHospital.Pascao’swaitingoutsideforme,asheenofsweatacrosshisownface.Hegivesmeamocksalute.
“Caretoracebackup?”heasks,flashingmeagrin.Idon’treply.Ijuststartclimbing,andsodoeshe.Pascao’sfigureis
nearlyinvisibleinthedarkness,ashapelessformthatleapsandboundseachstorywiththeeaseofanaturalRunner.Idashafterhim.Anotherstory,andthenanother.
Wemakeitbacktothebalconythatrunsallalongthetower’sfourthfloor.Insideliesthehospitalwingwe’dleftfrom.EventhoughI’moutofbreathandmyheadispoundingagain,ImadetherunalmostasfastasPascaodid.“Hell,”Imuttertohimaswebothleanagainsttherailinginexhaustion.“WherewasthisequipmentwhenIwasatmyhealthiest?Icould’vesingle-handedlydestroyedtheRepublicwithoutbreakingasweat,yeah?”
Pascao’steethshineinthenight.Hesurveysthecityscape.“Maybeit’sa
goodthingyoudidn’thaveit.Otherwisethere’dbenoRepublicforustosave.”
“Isitworthit?”Iaskafterawhile,enjoyingthecoolwinds.“Areyoureallywillingtosacrificeyourlifeforacountrythathasn’tdonemuchofanythingforyou?”
Pascaostayssilentforamoment,thenliftsonearmandpointstowardsomespotonthehorizon.Itrytomakeoutwhathewantsmetosee.“WhenIwaslittle,”hereplies,“IgrewupinWintersector.IwatchedtwoofmylittlesistersfailtheTrial.WhenIwenttothestadiummyselfandhadtotakemyownTrial,Ialmostfailedtoo.Istumbledandfellononeofthephysicaljumps,youknow.Ironic,don’tyouthink?Anyway,oneofthesoldierssawmefall.I’llneverforgetthelookinhiseyes.WhenIrealizedthatnooneelsehadseenmeexceptforhim,Ibeggedhimtoletitgo.Helookeddamntortured,buthedidn’trecordmyfall.WhenIwhisperedmythanks,hetoldmethatherememberedmytwosisters.Hesaid,‘Ithinktwodeathsinyourfamily’senough.’”Pascaopausesforamoment.“I’vealwayshatedtheRepublicforwhattheydidtothepeopleIloved,toallofus.ButsometimesIwonderwhateverhappenedtothatsoldier,andwhathislifewaslike,andwhohecaredabout,andwhetherornothe’sevenstillalive.Whoknows?Maybehe’salreadygone.”Heshrugsatthethought.“IfIlooktheotherwayanddecidetolettheRepublichandleitsownbusiness,andthenitfalls,IguessIcouldjustleavethecountry.Findawaytolivesomewhereelse,hideoutfromthegovernment.”Helooksatme.“Idon’treallyknowwhyIwanttostandonthehillwiththemnow.MaybeIhavealittlebitoffaith.”
Pascaowantstoexplainhimselffurther,likehe’sfrustratedthathedoesn’tknowhowtoputhisanswerintotherightwords.ButIunderstandhimalready.IshakemyheadandstareouttowardtheLakesector,rememberingJune’sbrother.“Yeah.Metoo.”
Afterawhile,wefinallyheadbackinsidethehospital.Itakeoffthesuitandchangebackintomyownclothes.Plan’ssupposedtokickintoeffectstartingwithAnden’ssurrenderannouncement.Afterthat,it’sallonedayatatime.Anythingcouldchange.
WhilePascaoheadsofftogetsomerest,IretracemystepsdownthehallandbacktowardEden’sroom,wonderingifthelabteamshavesentupanynewresultsforustolookat.Asifthey’vereadmymind,IseeafewofthemclusteredoutsideEden’sdoorwhenIarrive.They’retalkinginhushed
tones.TheserenityI’dfeltduringourbriefnightrunfadesaway.“Whatisit?”Iask.Icanalreadyseethetensionintheireyes.Mychest
knotsupatthesight.“Tellmewhat’shappened.”Frombehindtheclearplasticofhishood,oneofthelabtechstellsme,
“WereceivedsomedatafromtheAntarcticanlabteam.Wethinkwe’vemanagedtosynthesizesomethingfromyourbrother’sbloodthatcanalmostactasacure.It’sworking—toadegree.”
Acure!Arushofenergycoursesthroughme,leavingmedizzywithrelief.Ican’thelplettingasmilespillontomyface.“HaveyoutoldtheElectoryet?Doesitwork?CanwestartusingitonTess?”
ThelabtechstopsmebeforeIcangoon.“Almostactasacure,Day,”herepeats.
“Whatdoyoumean?”“TheAntarcticanteamconfirmedthatthevirushaslikelymutatedfrom
theoriginaloneEdendevelopedimmunityto,orthatitmayhavecombineditsgenomewithanothergenomealongtheway.Yourbrother’sTcellshavetheabilitytoshiftalongwiththisaggressivevirus;inoursamples,oneofthecureswe’vedevelopedseemstoworkpartially—”
“SoIcanunderstandyou,”Isayimpatiently.Thelabtechscowlsatme,asifImightinfecthimwithmyattitude.
“We’remissingsomething,”hesayswithanindignantsigh.“We’remissingacomponent.”
“Whatdoyoumean,you’remissingsomething?”Idemand.“Whatareyoumissing?”
“Somewherealongtheway,thevirusthat’scausingourcurrentoutbreaksmutatedfromitsoriginalRepublicplaguevirusandcombinedwithanothervirus.There’ssomethingmissingalongtheway,asaresult.WethinkitmayhavemutatedintheColonies,perhapsquiteawhileago.Monthsago,even.”
MyheartsinksasIrealizewhatthey’retryingtotellme.“Doesthatmeanthecurewon’tworkyet?”
“It’snotonlythatthecurewon’tworkyet.It’sthatwedon’tknowifwecanevergetittowork.Eden’snotPatientZeroforthisthing.”Thelabtechsighsagain.“Andunlesswecanfindthepersonwhothisnewvirusmutatedfrom,I’mnotsurewe’llevercreateacure.”
IAWAKETOTHESOUNDOFASIRENWAILINGACROSSourapartmentcomplex.It’stheairraidalarm.Forasecond,I’mbackinDenver,sittingwithDayatalittlelantern-litcaféwhilesleetfallsallaroundus,listeningtohimtellmethathe’sdying.I’mbackinthepanicked,chaoticstreetsasthesirenshrieksatus—we’reholdinghands,runningforshelter,terrified.
Gradually,myroomfadesintorealityandthesirenwailson.Myheartbeginstopound.Ijumpoutofbed,pausetocomfortawhiningOllie,thenrushtoturnonmyscreen.Newsheadlinesblareout,fightingwiththesiren—andrunningalongthebottomofthescreenisanangry,redwarning.
SEEKCOVERIscantheheadlines.ENEMYAIRSHIPSAPPROACHINGLOSANGELES’SLIMITSALLTROOPSTOREPORTTOTHEIRLOCALHEADQUARTERSELECTORPRIMOTOMAKEEMERGENCYANNOUNCEMENTThey’dpredictedthattheColonieswouldstilltakethreemoredaysbefore
makingamoveonLosAngeles.Itlookslikethey’reaheadofscheduleand
preparingfortheendofthethree-dayceasefire,whichmeansweneedtoputourplanaheadofschedule.Icovermyearsfromthesiren,rushovertothebalcony,andlookoutatthehorizon.Themorninglightisstillweak,andthecloudyskymakesitdifficultformetoseeproperly,butevenso,thedotsliningupaboveCalifornia’smountainskylineareunmistakable.Mybreathcatchesinmythroat.
Airships.Colonies,African—Ican’tquitetellfromthisdistance,butthereisnomistakingthefactthattheyarenotRepublicships.Basedontheirpositionandspeed,theywillbehoveringrightovercentralLosAngelesbeforethehour’sover.Iclickmymikeon,thenrushintotheclosettothrowonsomeclothes.IfAnden’spreparingtomakeanannouncementsoon,thenitwillundoubtedlybethesurrender.Andifthat’sthecase,I’llneedtojoinDayandthePatriotsasquicklyasIcan.Afakesurrenderwillonlyworkforsolongbeforeitturnsintoarealone.
“Whereareyouguys?”IshoutwhenDaycomesontotheline.Hisvoicesoundsasurgentasmine.Theechoofthesirensoundsoutfrom
hissidetoo.“Eden’shospitalroom.Youseetheships?”Iglanceagainatthehorizonbeforelacingupmyboots.“Yes.I’min.I’llbe
theresoon.”“Watchthesky.Staysafe.”Hehesitatesfortwoseconds.“Andhurry.We’ve
gotaproblem.”Thenourcallcutsoff,andI’moutthedoorwithOlliecloseatmyside,gallopinglikethewind.
BythetimewereachtheCentralHospital’slabfloorintheBankTowerandareusheredintoseeDay,Eden,andthePatriots,thesirenshavestopped.Thesector’selectricitymusthavebeenswitchedoffagain,andasidefromthemaingovernmentbuildingsliketheBankTower,thelandscapeoutsidelookseerilyblack,swallowednearlywholebydampmorningshadows.Downthehall,thescreensshowanemptypodiumwhereAndenwillbestandinganyminutenow,poisedtogivealivenationaladdress.Olliestaysgluedtomyside,pantinghisdistress.Ireachdownandpathimseveraltimes,andherewardsmewithalickofmyhand.
ImeetDayandtheothersinEden’sroomrightasAndenappearsonscreen.Edenlooksexhaustedandhalfconscious.HestillhasanIVhookeduptohisarm,butasidefromthat,therearenoothertubesorwires.Besidethebed,alabtechistypingnotesontoanotepad.
DayandPascaoarewearingwhatlooklikedarkRepublicsuitsmeantforphysicallydemandingmissions—it’sthesamesortofsuitI’doncewornbackwhenIfirstneededtobreakDayoutofBatallaHall,whenIspentalatenight
skimmingbuildingroofsinsearchofKaede.Bothofthemaretalkingtoalabtech,andbasedontheirexpressions,they’renotgettinggoodnews.Iwanttoaskthemfordetails,butAndenhassteppeduptothepodiumalready,andmywordsfadeawayasweturnourattentiontothescreen.AllIhearisthesoundofourbreathingandtheominous,distanthumofapproachingairships.
Andenlookscomposed;andeventhoughhe’sonlyayearolderthanthefirsttimeImethim,theweightandgravityonhisfacemakehimlookmuchmorematurethanheactuallyis.Onlytheslightclenchofhisjawrevealsahintofhisrealemotions.He’sdressedinsolidwhite,withsilverepaulettesonhisshouldersandagoldRepublicsealpinnednearthecollarofhismilitarycoat.Behindhimaretwoflags:OneistheRepublic’s,whiletheotherisblank,white,devoidofcolor.Iswallowhard.It’saflagIknowwellfromallmystudies,butonethatI’veneverseenused.Weallknewthiswascoming,wehadplannedthisandweknowit’snotreal—butevenso,Ican’thelpfeelingadeep,darksenseofgriefandfailure.Asifwearetrulyhandingourcountryovertosomeoneelse.
“SoldiersoftheRepublic,”Andenbeginsaddressingthesoldierssurroundinghimatthebase.Asalways,hisvoiceisatoncesoftandcommanding,quietbutclear.“ItiswithaheavyheartthatIcometoyoutodaywiththismessage.IhavealreadyrelayedthesesamewordstotheChancelloroftheColonies.”Hepausesforamoment,asifgatheringhisstrength.Icanonlyimaginethatforhim,evenfakingsuchagesturemustweighonhimfarmorethanitalreadydoesonme.“TheRepublichasofficiallysurrenderedtotheColonies.”
Silence.Thebase,filledwithnoiseandchaosonlyafewminutesago,isnowsuddenlystill—everysoldierfrozen,listeningindisbelief.
“WearenowtoceaseallmilitaryactivityagainsttheColonies,”Andencontinues,“andwithinthenextday,wewillmeetwiththeColonies’leadingofficialstodraftofficialsurrenderterms.”Hepauses,lettingtheweightsettleovertheentirebase.“Soldiers,wewillcontinuetoupdateyouoninformationregardingthisasweproceed.”Thenthetransmissionstops.Hedoesn’tendwithLonglivetheRepublic.Achillrunsthroughmewhenthescreensarereplacedwithanimageof,nottheRepublicflag,buttheColonies’.
Theyaredoingastellarjobofmakingthissurrenderlookconvincing.IhopetheAntarcticansaregoingtokeeptheirword.Ihopehelpisontheway.
“Day,wedon’thavemuchtimetogetthesebasesreadytoblow,”Pascaomutterstousastheaddressstops.ThethreeRepublicsoldierswithusaregearedupinasimilarfashion,allreadytoguidethemtowheretheairbaseswillbe
wired.“You’regonnahavetobuyussometime.NewsisthattheColonieswillstartlandingtheirairshipsatourbasesinafewhours.”
Daynods.AsPascaoturnsawaytorattleoffsomedirectionstothesoldiers,Day’seyesflickertome.Inthem,Iseeastrainedsenseoffearthatmakesmystomachchurn.“Something’sgonewrongwiththecure,hasn’tit?”Iask.“How’sEdendoing?”
Daysighs,runningahandthroughhishair,andthenlooksdownathisbrother.“He’shanginginthere.”
“But...?”“Buttheproblemisthatheisn’tPatientZero.Theysaidthey’remissing
somethingfromhisblood.”Ilookatthefragileboyinthehospitalbed.Edenisn’tPatientZero?“But
what?Whataretheymissing?”“It’dbeeasiertoshowyouthantrytoexplainit.Comeon.Thisissomething
we’llneedtoalertAndenabout.What’sthepointofstagingthiswholesurrenderifwewon’tbeabletogethelpfromAntarctica?”Dayleadsusoutanddownthehall.Wewalkinatensesilenceforawhile,untilwefinallystopinfrontofanondescriptdoor.Dayopensit.
Westepinsidearoomfullofcomps.Alabtechmonitoringthescreensriseswhenheseesus,thenushersusover.“TimetoupdateMs.Iparis?”
“Tellmewhat’sgoingon,”Ireply.Hesitsusdowninfrontofacompandspendsseveralminutesloadingupa
screen.Whenhefinallyfinishes,Iseetwoside-by-sidecomparisonsofsomeslidesofwhatIassumearecells.Ipeermorecloselyatthem.
Thelabtechpointstotheoneontheleft,whichlookslikeaseriesofsmall,polygonalparticlesgroupedaroundalargecentralcell.Attachedtotheparticlesaredozensoflittletubesstickingoutofthecell.“This,”thelabtechsays,circlingthelargecellwithhisfinger,“isasimulationofaninfectedcellthatwe’retryingtotarget.Thecellhasaredhuetoit,indicatingthatviruseshavetakenholdinside.Ifnocure’sinvolved,thiscelllyses—burstsopen—anddies.Now,seetheselittleparticlesaroundit?Thosearesimulationsofthecureparticlesthatweneed.Theyattachtotheoutsideoftheinfectedcell.”Hetapsthescreentwicewherethelargecellis,andashortanimationplays,showingtheparticleslatchingontothecell;eventually,thecellshrinksinsizeandthecolorofitchanges.“Theysavethecellfrombursting.”
Myeyesshiftovertothecomparisonontheright,whichalsohasasimilarlyinfectedcellsurroundedbylittleparticles.Thistime,Idon’tseeanytubesfor
theparticlestoattachto.“Thisiswhat’sactuallyhappening,”thelabtechexplains.“We’remissingsomethingfromourcureparticlesthatcanattachtothecell’sreceptors.Ifwedon’tdevelopthat,therestoftheparticlescan’twork.Thecellcan’tcomeindirectcontactwiththemedicine,andthecelldies.”
IcrossmyarmsandexchangeafrownwithDay,whoshrugshelplessly.“Howcanwefigureoutthemissingpiece?”
“That’sthething.Ourguessisthatthisparticularattachingfeaturewasn’tapartoftheoriginalvirus.Inotherwords,someonespecificallyalteredthisvirus.Wecanseetracesofthatmarkeronitwhenwelabelthecell.”Hepointstotinyglowingdotsscatteredacrossthecell’ssurface.“Thismightmean,Ms.Iparis,thattheColoniesactuallyphysicallyalteredthisvirus.TheRepubliccertainlyhasnorecordsoftamperingwiththisoneinthisspecificfashion.”
“Waitaminute,”Dayinterrupts.“Thisisnewstome.AreyousayingthattheColoniescreatedthisplague?”
Thelabtechgivesusagrimlook,thenreturnstothescreen.“Possibly.Here’sthecuriousthing,though.Wethinkthisadditionalpiece—theattachingfeature—originallycameoutoftheRepublic.There’sasimilarvirusthatcameoutofasmallColoradotown.ButthetracerstellusthatthealteredviruscameoutofTribuneCity,whichisawarfrontcityontheColoniesside.Sosomewherealongthatline,Eden’svirussomehowcameincontactwithsomethingelseinTribuneCity.”
Thisiswhenthepiecesofthepuzzlefinallyfallintoplaceforme.Thecolordrainsfrommyface.TribuneCity:thecitythatDayandIhadoriginallystumbledintowhenwefirstfledintotheColonies.IthinkbacktowhenI’dgottenillduringmyarrestintheRepublic,howsickandfeverishI’dbeenwhenDaycarriedusthroughthatundergroundtunnelfromLamarallthewayintotheColonies’territory.I’dbeeninaColonieshospitalforanight.They’dinjectedmedicineintome,butIneverconsideredthefactthattheymighthavebeenusingmeforadifferentpurpose.HadIbeenapartofanexperimentwithoutevenrealizingit?AmItheoneholdingthemissingpieceofthepuzzleinmybloodstream?
“It’sme,”Iwhisper,cuttingthelabtechshort.BothheandDaygivemeastartledlook.
“Whatdoyoumean?”thelabtechasks,butDaystayssilent.Alookofrealizationwashesoverhisface.
“It’sme,”Irepeat.TheanswerissoclearthatIcanhardlybreathe.“IwasinTribuneCityeightmonthsago.I’dgottenillwhileunderarrestinColorado.If
thisothervirusyou’retalkingaboutoriginatedfirstintheRepublicandthencamebackfromTribuneCityintheColonies,thenit’spossiblethattheanswertoyourpuzzleisme.”
JUNE’STHEORYCHANGESEVERYTHING.Immediatelyshejoinsthelabteaminaseparatehospitalroom,where
theystrapseveraltubesandwirestoherandtakeasampleofherbonemarrow.Theyrunaseriesofscansthatleaveherlookingnauseous,scansI’vealreadyseenbeingrunonEden.IwishIcouldstay.Eden’stestsareover,thankfully,buttheriskhasnowshiftedtoJune,andinthismomentallIwanttodoisstayhereandmakesureeverythinggoessmoothly.
Forchrissakes,Itellmyselfangrily,it’snotlikeyoubeinghereisgoingtohelpanything.ButwhenPascaofinallyushersusoutthedoorandoutofthehospitaltojointheothers,Ican’thelpbutglanceback.
IfJune’sbloodholdsthemissingpiece,thenwehaveachance.Wecancontaintheplague.Wecansaveeveryone.WecansaveTess.
AswetakeatrainfromthehospitaltowardBatalla’sairshipbaseswithseveralRepublicsoldiersintow,thesethoughtsbuildinmychestuntilIcanbarelystandtowaitaround.Pascaonoticesmyrestlessnessandgrins.“Youeverbeentothebasesbefore?Iseemtorecallyoudoingafewstuntsthere.”
Hiswordstriggersomememories.WhenIturnedfourteen,IbrokeintotwoLosAngelesairshipsthatweresettoheadoutforthewarfront.Igotin—notunlikemystuntwiththePatriotsbackinVegas—bysneakinginthroughtheventilationsystem,andthennavigatingtheentireshipundetectedbyweavingmywaythroughtheirendlessairvents.Iwasstillhalfwaythroughmygrowthspurtbackthen;mybodywasthinnerandsmaller,andIhadnotroublesqueezingmywaythroughtheirmyriadoftunnels.Onceinside,IstoleasmuchcannedfoodfromtheirkitchensasIcould,thensetfiresintheirengineroomsthatdestroyedtheshipsenoughtoultimatelycripplethemfromservingtheRepublicforyears,maybeforever.ItwasthisparticularstuntthatfirstlandedmeontopoftheRepublic’smostwantedlist.Nottoobadajob,ifIdosaysomyself.
NowIthinkbackonthebases’layouts.Asidefromsomeairshipbasesin
Batallasector,thefourmainnavalbasesinLAoccupyathinstripoflandalongthecity’swestcoastlinethatsitsbetweenourenormouslakeandthePacificOcean.Ourbattleshipsstaythere,unusedforthemostpart.ButthereasonthatthePatriotsandIheadtherenowisthatallofLA’sairshipdocksaretheretoo,andit’swheretheColonieswilldocktheirairshipsif—when—theytrytooccupythecityafteroursurrender.
It’sthethirdandfinaldayoftheColonies’promisedceasefire.Asthetrainspeedsthroughthesectors,IcanseegroupsofcivilianscrowdingaroundJumboTronsthatarenowrunningAnden’ssurrendernoticeonrepeat.Mostlookstrickenwithshock,clingingtooneanother.Othersarefurious—theythrowshoes,crowbars,androcksupatthescreensandrageagainsttheirElector’sbetrayal.Good.Stayangry,usethatangeragainsttheColonies.Ineedtoplayoutmypartsoon.
“Allright,kids,listenup,”Pascaosaysasourtrainnearsthebridgesleadingtothenavalbases.Heholdsouthispalmstoshowusaseriesofsmall,metaldevices.“Remember,sixperdock.”Hepointstoasmallredtriggerinthecenterofeachdevice.“Wewantclean,containedexplosions,andthesoldiers’llpointoutthebestspotsforustoplantthesethings.Ifdoneright,we’llbeabletocrippleanyColoniesairshipusingourlandingdocks,andanairshipwithamessed-uplandingbayisuseless.Yeah?”Hegrins.“Atthesametime,let’snotscrewupthelandingdockstoomuch.Sixperdock.”
Ilookawayandbackoutthewindow,wherethefirstnavalbasedrawsnearonthehorizon.Enormouspyramidlandingbasesloominarow,darkandimposing,andIinstantlythinkofthefirsttimeI’dseentheminVegas.Mystomachtwistsuneasily.Ifthisplanfails,ifwe’reunabletoholdtheColoniesbackandtheAntarcticansnevercometoourrescue,ifJuneisn’twhatweneedforthecure—whatwillhappentous?WhatwillhappenwhentheColoniesfinallygettheirhandsonAnden,orJune,ormyself?Ishakemyhead,forcingtheimagesoutofmymind.There’snotimetoworryaboutthat.It’lleitherhappenoritwon’t.We’vealreadychosenourcourse.
WhenwearriveatthefirstlandingdockofNavalBaseOne,Icanseeenoughoftheinnercitytonoticethetiny,darkspecksinthesky.Coloniestroops—airships,jets,something—arehoveringnotfarfromtheoutskirtsofLosAngeles,preparingtostrike.Alow,monotonoushumfillstheair—guesswecanalreadyheartheirships’steadyapproach.MyeyesturnuptowardtheJumboTronsliningthestreets.Anden’sannouncementcontinues
on,accompaniedwithabrightredSeekCoverwarningrunningalongthebottomofeachscreen.
FourRepublicsoldiersjoinupwithusaswehurryoutofthejeepandinsidethepyramidbase.Ikeepclosetothemastheyusherusuptheelevatorstowardtheloominginnerroofofthebase,whereairshipstakeoffanddockon.Allaroundusisthedeafeningsoundofsoldiers’bootsonechoingfloors,rushingtotheirstationsandpreparingtotakeoffagainsttheColonies.IwonderhowmanytroopsAndenhadbeenforcedtosendofftoDenverorVegasforreinforcement,andIcanonlyhopethatwehaveenoughleftbehindtoprotectus.
Thisisn’tVegas,Iremindmyself,tryingnottothinkaboutthetimewhenI’dletmyselfgetarrested.Butitdoesn’thelp.Bythetimewe’veriddenourwayuptothetopofthebaseandclimbedaflightofstairsuptotheopentopofthepyramid,myheart’spoundingupastormthat’snotallbecauseoftheexercise.Well,ifthisdoesn’tbringbackmemoriesofwhenI’dfirststartedworkingforthePatriots.Ican’tstopstudyingthemetalbeamscrisscrossingtheinteriorunderbellyofthebase,allthelittleinterlockingpartsthatwillbindwithanairshiponceitlands.ThedarksuitI’mwearingfeelsaslightasair.Timetoplantsomebombs.
“Doyouseethosebeams?”oneRepubliccaptainsaystoPascaoandme,pointinguptotheshadowsoftheceilingatone,two,threecrevicesthatlookparticularlydifficulttoreach.“Maxdamagetotheship,minimaldamagetothebase.We’llhaveyoutwohitthosethreespotsateachofthebases.We’dbeabletogettothemourselvesifwesetupourcranes,butwedon’thavetimeforthat.”Hepausestogiveusaforcedsmile.Mostofthesegoddysoldiersstilldon’tseementirelycomfortableworkingalongsideus.“Well,”hesaysafteranawkwardpause,“doesthatlookdoable?Areyouguysfastenough?”
Iwanttosnapatthecaptainthathe’sforgottenmyreputation,butPascaostopsmebylettingoutoneofhisloud,sparklinglaughs.“Youdon’thaveenoughfaithinus,doyou?”hesays,nudgingthecaptainplayfullyintheribsandsmirkingattheindignantblushthathegetsback.
“Good,”thecaptainrepliesstifflybeforemovingonwiththeotherPatriotsandhisownpatrol.“Hurry.Wedon’thavelong.”Heleavesustoourwork,thenstartsdictatingbomb-plantingspotstotheothers.
Oncehe’sgone,Pascaodropshisgiantgrinandconcentratesonthecrevicesthatthecaptainhadpointedout.“Noteasytoreach,”hemutters.
“Yousureyou’reupforthis?Youstrongenough,seeingashowyou’redyingandall?”
Icasthimawitheringglare,thenstudyeachofthecrevicesinturn.Itestmykneesandelbows,tryingtogaugehowmuchstrengthIhave.Pascao’sabittallerthanme—he’llbeabletohandlethefirsttwocrevicesbest,butthethirdcreviceiswedgedinsuchatightpositionthatIknowonlyIcangettoit.Icanalsoseerightawaywhythecaptainpointedthatspotout.Evenifwedidn’tplantsixbombsalongthissideofthebase,we’dprobablydisableanyairshipwithasinglebombonthatlocation.Ipointtoit.
“I’lltakethatone,”Isay.“Yousure?”Pascaosquintsatit.“Idon’twanttowatchyoufalltoyour
deathonourveryfirstbase.”Hiswordscoaxasarcasticsmileoutofme.“Don’tyouhaveanyfaithin
meatall?”Pascaosmirks.“Alittle.”Wegettowork.Itakeaflyingleapfromthestairs’ledgetotheclosest
crisscrossingbeam,andthenweavemyselfseamlesslyintothemazeofmetal.Whatafeelingofdéjàvu.Thespringsembeddedinmysuit’sjointstakealittlegettingusedto—butafterafewjumpsIgrowintothem.I’mfast.Reallyfastwiththeirhelp.Inthespanoftenminutes,I’vecrossedaquarterofthebase’sceilingandamnowwithinstrikingdistanceofthatcrevice.Thintricklesofsweatrundownmyneck,andmyheadpulseswithfamiliarpain.Below,soldierspausetowatchusevenasallofthebase’selectronictickerscontinuetorunthesurrendernotice.Theyhavenogoddycluewhatwe’redoing.
Ipauseatthefinalleap,thenmakemyjump.Mybodyhitsthecreviceandslidessnuglyin.InstantlyIpulloutthetinybomb,openitsclip,andplantitfirmlyintoplace.Myheadachemakesmedizzy,butIforceitaway.
Done.Islowlymakemywaybackalongthebeams.BythetimeIswingdown
ontothestairsagain,myheart’spoundingfromadrenaline.IspotPascaoalongthebeamsandgivehimaquickthumbs-up.
Thisistheeasystuff,Iremindmyself,myexcitementgivingwaytoanominousanxiety.Thehardpart’sgoingtobepullingoffaconvincinglietotheChancellor.
Wefinishwiththefirstbase,thenmoveontothenext.Bythetimewe’re
donewiththefourthbase,mystrengthisstartingtogiveway.IfIwasfullyinmyelement,thissuitcould’vemademedamnnearunstoppable—butnow,evenwithitshelp,mymusclesacheandmybreathssoundstrained.Asthesoldiersnowguidemeintoaroomintheairbaseandpreparemetomakemycallandmybroadcast,I’msilentlygratefulthatIdon’tneedtorunanymoreceilings.
“WhathappensiftheChancellordoesn’tbuyyou?”Pascaoaskswhilethesoldiersfileoutoftheroom.“Nooffense,prettyboy,butyoudon’texactlyhavethebestreputationforkeepingyourpromises.”
“Ididn’tpromisehimanything,”Ireply.“Besides,he’llseemyannouncementgoouttotheentireRepublic.He’sgoingtothinkthateveryoneinthecountrywillseemeswitchallegiancestotheColonies.Itwon’tlast.Butit’llbuyussometime.”Silently,IhopetohellthatwecanfigureoutthefinalcurebeforetheColoniesrealizewhatwe’redoing.
Pascaolooksawayandouttheroom’swindow,wherewecanseeRepublicsoldiersfinishingupthelastfewbombplacementsonthebase’sceiling.Ifthisfails,oriftheColoniesrealizethesurrender’sfakebeforewehavetimetodoanythingaboutit,thenwe’reprobablydone.
“Timeforyoutomakeyourcall,then,”Pascaomutters.Helocksthedoor,findsachair,andpullsitofftoonecorner.Thenhesettlesdownwithmetowait.
MyhandstrembleslightlyasIclickmymikeonandcalltheColonies’Chancellor.Foramoment,allIhearisstatic,andapartofmehopesthatitsomehowcan’ttracethenamethathadcalledmebefore,andthatsomehowI’llhavenowayofreachinghim.Butthenthestaticends,thecallclears,andIhearitconnect.IgreettheChancellor.
“ThisisDay.Todayisthelastdayofyourpromisedceasefire,yeah?AndIhaveananswertoyourrequest.”
Afewsecondsdragby.Then,thatcrisp,businesslikevoicecomesontheotherend.“Mr.Wing,”theChancellorsays,aspoliteandpleasantasever.“Rightontime.Howlovelytohearfromyou.”
“I’msureyou’veseentheElector’sannouncementbynow,”Ireply,ignoringhisniceties.
“Ihave,indeed,”themanreplies.Ihearsomeshufflingofpapersinthebackground.“Andnowwithyourcall,thisdayislookingtobefullofgoodsurprises.I’dbeenwonderingwhenyouwouldcontactusagain.Tellme,Daniel,haveyougivensomethoughttomyproposal?”
Fromacrosstheroom,Pascao’spaleeyeslockontomine.Hecan’theartheconversation,buthecanseethetensiononmyface.“Ihave,”Ireplyafterapause.Gottamakemyselfsoundrealisticandreluctant,yeah?IwonderifJunewouldapprove.
“Andwhathaveyoudecided?Remember,thisisentirelyuptoyou.Iwon’tforceyoutodoanythingyoudon’twishtodo.”
Yeah.Idon’thavetodoanything—I’lljusthavetostandbyandwatchwhileyoudestroythepeopleIlove.“I’lldoit.”Anotherpause.“TheRepublic’salreadysurrendered.Thepeoplearen’thappyaboutyourpresence,butIdon’twanttoseethemharmed.Idon’twanttoseeanyoneharmed.”IknowIdon’thavetomentionJunebynamefortheChancellortounderstand.“I’llmakeacitywideannouncement.WegotaccesstotheJumboTronsthroughthePatriots.Itwon’tbelongbeforethatannouncementhitsallthescreensintheentireRepublic.”Ikickinalittlemoreattitudetokeepmylieauthentic.“ThatgoodenoughforyoutokeepyourgoddyhandsoffJune?”
TheChancellorclapshishandsonce.“Done.Ifyou’rewillingtobecomeour...spokesman,sotospeak,thenIassureyouthatMs.Ipariswillbesparedthetrialsandexecutionsthatcomewithanoverturningofpower.”
Hiswordssendachillthroughme,remindingmethatifwedofail,thenwhatI’mgoingtodoisn’tgoingtosaveAnden’slife.Infact,ifwefail,theChancellorwillprobablyfigureoutthatI’mbehindallthistoo,andtheregoesJune’s...andprobablyEden’s...chancesatsafety.Iclearmythroat.Acrosstheroom,Pascao’sfacehasturnedstonywithtension.“Andmybrother?”
“Youneednotworryaboutyourbrother.AsImentionedtoyoubefore,Iamnotatyrant.Iwillnothookhimuptoamachineandpumphimfullofchemicalsandpoisons—Iwillnotexperimentonhim.He—andyou—willliveacomfortable,safelife,freefromharmandworry.This,Icanguaranteeyou.”TheChancellor’stonechangestowhathethinksissoothingandgentle.“Icanheartheunhappinessinyourvoice.ButIdonothingexceptwhatisnecessary.IfyourElectorimprisonedme,hewouldnothesitatetoexecuteme.Thisisthewayoftheworld.Iamnotacruelman,Daniel.Remember,theColoniesarenotresponsibleforyourlifetimeofsuffering.”
“Don’tcallmeDaniel.”Myvoicecomesoutlowandquiet.IamnotDanieltoanyoneoutsideofmyfamily.IamDay.Plainandsimple.
“Myapologies.”Heactuallysoundsgenuinelysorry.“IhopeyouunderstandwhatI’msaying,Day.”
Iremainsilentforamoment.Evennow,IcanstillfeelthepullagainsttheRepublic,allofthedarkthoughtsandmemoriesthatwhispertometoturnmyback,toletitallcrumbletopieces.TheChancellorcangaugemebetterthanIwould’vethought.Alifetimeofsufferingishardtoleavebehind.AsifshecansensethedangerouspulloftheChancellor’sspell,IhearJune’svoicecutthroughthistrainofthoughtsandwhispersomethingtome.Iclosemyeyesandclingtoher,drawingstrengthfromher.
“Tellmewhenyouwantmetomakethisannouncement,”Isayafterawhile.“Everything’swiredupandreadytogo.Let’sgetthiswholethingoverwith.”
“Wonderful.”TheChancellorclearshisthroat,suddenlysoundinglikeabusinessmanagain.“Thesooner,thebetter.IwilllandwithmytroopsattheouternavalbasesofLosAngelesbyearlyafternoon.Let’sarrangeforyoutospeakatthattime.Shallwe?”
“Done.”“Andonemorething,”theChancelloraddsasI’mabouttohangup.I
stiffen,mytonguepoisedtoclickmymikeoff.“BeforeIforget.”“What?”“Iwantyoutomaketheannouncementfromthedeckofmyairship.”Startled,IglanceatPascao,andeventhoughhehasnoideawhatthe
Chancellorjustsaid,hefrownsatthewaymyfacehasjustdrainedofcolor.FromtheChancellor’sairship?Ofcourse.Howcouldwethinkhe’dbethateasytofool?He’stakingprecautions.Ifsomethinggoeswrongduringtheannouncement,thenhe’llhavemeinhisgrip.IfImakeanannouncementthat’sanythingotherthantellingtheRepublicpeopletobowdowntotheColonies,hecouldkillmerightthereontheairship’sdeck,surroundedbyhismen.
WhentheChancellorspeaksagain,Icansensethesatisfactioninhisvoice.Heknowsexactlywhathe’sdoing.“YourwordswillbemoremeaningfulifgivenrightfromaColoniesairship,don’tyouagree?”hesays.Heclapshishandsonceagain.“We’llexpectyouatNavalBaseOneinafewhours.Lookingforwardtomeetingyouinperson,Day.”
THEREVELATIONABOUTMYCONNECTIONTOTHISPLAGUEchangesallofmyplans.
InsteadofheadingoutwiththePatriotsandhelpingDaysetuptheairshipbases,Istaybehindatthehospital,lettingthelabteamshookmeuptomachinesandrunaseriesoftestsonme.Mydaggersandgunlieonanearbydresser,sothattheywon’tgetinthewayofallthewires,andonlyoneknifestaystuckedalongmyboot.Edensitsinbedbesideme,hisskinsicklypale.Severalhoursin,andthenauseahasbeguntohit.
“Thefirstday’stheworst,”Edensaystomewithanencouragingsmile.Hespeaksslowly,likelyfromthemedicationthelabteamgavehimtohelphimsleep.“Itgetsbetter.”Heleansoverandpatsmyhand,andIfindmyselfwarmingtohisinnocentcompassion.ThismustbewhatDaywaslikewhenhewasyoung.
“Thanks,”Ireply.Idon’tspeaktherestofmythoughtsaloud,butIcannotbelievethatachildlikeEdenwasabletotoleratethissortoftestingfordays.HadIknown,ImighthavedonewhatDayoriginallywantedandrefusedAnden’srequestaltogether.
“Whathappensiftheyfindoutthatyoumatch?”Edenasksafterawhile.Hiseyeshavestartedtodroop,andhisquestioncomesoutslurred.
Whathappens,indeed?Wehaveacure.WecanpresenttheresultstoAntarcticaandprovetothemthattheColoniesdeliberatelyusedthisvirus;wecanpresentittotheUnitedNationsandforcetheColoniesback.We’llhaveourportsopenedupagain.“TheAntarcticanspromisethathelpisontheway,”Idecidetosay.“Wemightwin.Justmaybe.”
“ButtheColoniesarealreadyatourdoorstep.”Edenglancestowardthewindows,whereourenemy’sairshipsarenowdottingthesky.Somehavealreadydockedatourbases,whileothersloomoverhead.AshadowcastacrossourownBankTowerbuildingtellsmethatoneishoveringoverusrightnow.
“WhatifDanielfails?”hewhispers,fightingbacksleep.“Wejusthavetoplayitallcarefully.”ButEden’swordsmakemygaze
lingeronthecityscapetoo.WhatifDaydoesfail?Hetoldmeasheleftthathewouldcontactusbeforehisbroadcasttothepublic.Now,seeinghowclosetheColonies’airshipsare,IfeelanoverwhelmingsenseoffrustrationthatIcan’tbeouttherewiththem.WhatiftheColoniesrealizethattheairshipbasesareallrigged?Whatiftheydon’tcomeback?
Anotherhourpasses.WhileEdenfallsintoadeepslumber,Istayawakeandtrytowillawaythenausearollingovermeinwaves.Ikeepmyeyesclosed.Itseemstohelp.
Imusthavefallenasleep,becausesuddenlyI’mawakenedbythesoundofourdooropening.Thelabtechshavefinallyreturned.“Ms.Iparis,”oneofthemsays,adjustinghisMIKHAELnametag.“Itwasn’taperfectmatch,butitwasclose—closeenoughthatwewereabletodevelopasolution.We’retestingthecureonTessnow.”He’sunabletokeepagrinfromcrossinghisface.“Youwerethemissingpiece.Rightunderournoses.”
Istareathimwithoutsayingaword.WecansendresultstoAntarctica—thethoughtrushesthroughmymind.Wecanaskforhelp.Wecanstoptheplague’sspread.WehaveachanceagainsttheColonies.
Mikhael’scompanionsstartunhookingmefrommytangleofwires,andthenhelpmetomyfeet.Ifeelstrongenough,buttheroomstillsways.I’mnotsurewhethermyunsteadinessisfromthetests’sideeffectsorthethoughtthatthismightallhaveworked.“IwanttoseeTess,”Isayaswestartheadingforthedoor.“Howquicklywillthecurestartworking?”
“We’renotsure,”Mikhaeladmitsasweenteralonghall.“Butoursimulationsaresolid,andweranseverallabcultureswithinfectedcells.WeshouldstartseeingTess’shealthimproveverysoon.”
WestopatthelongglasswindowsofTess’sroom.Sheliesinadelirioushalfsleeponherbed,andallaroundherarelabtechsrushingaboutinfullsuits,monitorsdictatinghervitalsigns,chartsandgraphsbeamedagainstthewalls.AnIV’sinjectedintooneofherarms.Istudyherface,searchingforsomesignofconsciousness,andfailtofindit.
Staticinmyearpiece.Anincomingcall.Ifrown,pressahandtomyear,andthenclickmymikeon.Asecondlater,IhearDay’svoice.“Areyouokay?”Hisfirstthought.Ofcourseitis.ThestaticissoseverethatIcanhardlyunderstandwhathe’ssaying.
“I’mfine,”Ireply,hopinghecanhearme.“Day,listentome—we’vefound
acure.”Noreply,juststatic,loudandunrelenting.“Day?”Isayagain,andonthe
othersideIhearsomecrackling,somethinglikethedesperationtocommunicatewithme.ButIcan’tgetushookedup.Unusual.Thereceptiononthesemilitarybandsisusuallycrystalclear.It’sasifsomethingelseisblockingallofourfrequencies.“Day?”Itryagain.
Ifinallycatchhisvoiceagain.Itholdsatensionthatremindsmeofwhenhe’dchosentowalkawayfrommesomanymonthsago.Itsendsariverofdreadthroughmyveins.“I’mgiving—announcementonboardaColoniesairship—ellorwon’thaveitanyotherway—”
OnboardaColoniesairship.TheChancellorwouldholdallthecardsinthatcase—ifDayweretomakeasuddenmove,ormakeanannouncementthatwentagainstwhattheyagreedto,theChancellorcouldhavehimarrestedormurderedrightonthespot.“Don’tdoit,”Iwhisperautomatically.“Youdon’thavetogo.We’vefoundthecure,Iwasthemissingpieceofthepuzzle.”
“—June?—”Thennoanswer,justmorestatic.ItryagaintwicemorebeforeIclickmy
mikeoffinfrustration.Besideme,Icanseethelabtechalsotryinginvaintomakeacall.
AndthenIremembertheshadowcastacrossthebuildingwe’rein.Myfrustrationfadesimmediately,followedbywavesofterrorandcomprehension.Ohno.TheColonies.They’reblockingourfrequencies—they’vetakenthemover.Ihadnotthoughtthattheywouldmaketheirmovesoquickly.IrushovertothewindowlookingoutatLosAngeles’scityscape,thenturnmyeyesskyward.IcanseetheenormousColoniesairshipthathoversoverhead—andwhenIlookmoreclosely,Inoticethatsmallerplanesareleavingitsdeckandcirclinglower.
Mikhaeljoinsme.“Wecan’treachtheElector,”hesays.“Itseemsallthefrequenciesarejammed.”
IsthisinpreparationforDay’sannouncement?He’sintrouble.Iknowit.Justasthisthoughtcrossesmymind,thedoorsattheendofthehallswing
open.Fivesoldierscomemarchingin,theirgunshoisted,andinaflashIcanseethatthesearenotRepublicsoldiersatall—butColoniestroops,withtheirnavybluecoatsandgoldstars.Panicrushesthroughmefromheadtotoe.InstinctivelyImovetowardEden’sroom,butthesoldiersseeme.Theirleaderwaveshisgunatme.Myhandfliestomygunstrappedtomywaist—andthenIrememberthatallofmyweapons(saveforoneankleknife)arelyinguseless
backinEden’sroom.“WiththeRepublic’ssurrender,”hesaysinagrandiosevoice,“allreinsof
powerhavebeentransferredtoColonies’officials.Thisisyourcommandertellingyoutostandasideandletuspass,sothatwecanrunathoroughsearch.”
Mikhaelthrowsuphishandsanddoesastheofficialsays.Theydrawcloser.Memorieswhirlinmymind—they’realllessonsfrommydaysatDrake,astreamofmaneuversthatrunthroughmyheadatthespeedoflight.Igaugethemcarefully.Asmallteamsentupheretoaccomplishsomespecifictask.Otherteamsmustbeswarmingeachofthefloors,butIknowthesesoldiersmusthavebeensentuptousforsomethinginparticular.Ibracemyself,readyforafight.It’smethey’reafter.
Asifhereadmymind,Mikhaelnodsonceatthesoldiers.Hisarmsstayuphighintheair.“Whatdoyouwant?”
Thesoldieranswers,“AboynamedEdenBataarWing.”IknowbetterthantosuckinmybreathandthusgiveawaythatEden’son
thisfloor—butatidalwaveoffearwashesoverme.Iwaswrong.They’renotafterme.TheywantDay’sbrother.IfDay’sforcedtogivehisannouncementonboardtheChancellor’sairship,alone,he’llbehelplessiftheChancellordecidestotakehimhostage—andifhegetshishandsonEden,he’llbeabletocontrolDayathiseverywhim.Mythoughtsrushevenfurther.IftheColoniestrulysucceedintakingovertheRepublictoday,thentheChancellorcoulduseDayindefinitelyashisownweapon,asamanipulatoroftheRepublic’speople,foraslongasthepeoplecontinuetobelieveinDayastheirhero.
IopenmymouthbeforeMikhaelcan.“Thisfloorjusthousesplaguevictims,”Isaytothesoldier.“Ifyou’relookingforDay’sbrother,he’llbeonahigherfloor.”
Thesoldier’sgunswivelstome.Henarrowshiseyesinrecognition.“You’rethePrinceps-Elect,”hesays.“Aren’tyou?JuneIparis.”
Iliftmychin.“OneofthePrinceps-Elects,yes.”Foramoment,IthinkhemightbelievewhatIsaidaboutEden.Someofhis
menevenstartshiftingbacktowardthestairs.Thesoldierwatchesmeforalongtime,studyingmyeyes,andthenlooksdownthehallwaybehindme,whereEden’sroomlies.Idon’tdareflinch.
Hefrownsatme.“Iknowyourreputation.”BeforeIcanthinkofanythingelsetosayinordertothrowhimoff,hetiltshisheadathistroopsanduseshisguntogestureatthehall.“Doathoroughsearch.Theboyshouldbeonthisfloor.”
Toolatetolienow.IfIoweDayanything,Iowehimthis.Ishiftintothespacebetweenthesoldiersandthehallway.Calculationsrushthroughmyhead.(Thehallwayisalittleoverfourfeetwide—ifImoveintoit,Icanpreventthesoldiersfromattackingmeallatonceandbreakupmyopponentsintotwosmallerwavesinsteadofonelargeone.)“YourChancellorwon’twantmedead,”Ilie.Myheartpoundsfuriously.Besideme,thelabtechlooksonwithstrickeneyes,unsureofwhattodo.“He’llwantmealive,andtried.Youknowthis.”
“Suchbigliesoutofsuchasmallmouth.”Thesoldierhoistshisgun.Iholdmybreath.“Moveoutoftheway,orIshoot.”
IfIdidn’tseethehintofhesitationonhisface,Iwould’vedoneasheasked.NousetoDayorEdenifI’mjustdeadandgunneddown.Butthesoldier’sflashofuncertaintyisallIneed.Iholdmyarmsupslowlyandcarefully.Myeyesstayfixedonhim.“Youdon’twanttoshootme,”Isay.I’mshockedathowfirmmyvoicesounds—notarippleoffearinit,despitetheadrenalinerushingthroughmyveins.Mylegsswayalittle,stillatouchunsteadyfromtheexperiments.“YourChancellordoesn’tsoundlikeaforgivingman.”
Thesoldierhesitatesagain.Hedoesn’tknowwhattheChancellorhasinmindforme.Hehastogivemethebenefitofthedoubt.
Weholdourstandoffforseverallongseconds.Finallyhespitsoutacurseandlowershisgun.“Gether,”hesnapsathis
soldiers.“Don’tshoot.”Theworldzoomsinatme—everythingfades,exceptfortheenemy.My
instinctskickintooverdrive.Let’splay.Youhavenoideawhoyou’redealingwith.Icrouchintoafightingstanceasthesoldiersrushatmeallatonce.The
narrownessofthehallwayworksinstantlytomyadvantage—insteadofdealingwithfivesoldiersatthesametime,Ionlydealwithtwo.Iduckthefirstsoldier’sswing,ripmyknifeoutfrommyboot,andslashhiscalfasviciouslyasIcan.Thebladetearseffortlesslythroughbothhispantlegandhistendon.Heshrieks.Instantlyhislegbuckles,takinghimtothefloorinathrashingheap.Thesecondsoldierrushingatmetripsrightoverhisfallingcomrade.Ikickoutatthesecondsoldier’sface,knockinghimout,andstepofffromhisbacktolungeatthethirdsoldier.Hetriestopunchme.Iblockhisblowwithonearm—myotherhandshootsuptowardhisfaceandsmashesintohisnosesohardthatIfeelthecrunchofbreakingbone.Thesoldierstaggersbackwardonceandfalls,clutchinghisfaceinagony.
Threedown.
Myadvantageofsurprisevanishes—thelasttwosoldierstakemeonmorewarily.Oneofthemshoutsintohismikeforbackup.Behindthem,Mikhaelstartssneakingaway.EventhoughIdon’tdareglanceinhisdirection,Iknowthathemustbemovingtolockdownthecorridorsinthestairwell,makingitimpossibleformoreColoniessoldierstocomeswarmingup.Oneoftheremainingsoldiersliftshisgunandpointsitatmylegs.Ikickoutathim.Myboothitsthebarrelofhisgunrightashefiresit,sendingabulletricochetingwildlyovermyshoulder.Analarmblaresacrosstheentirebuilding’sintercoms—thestairwellsarelockeddown,analert’sbeensentout.Ikickthegunagainsothatitarcsbackward,hittingthesoldierhardintheface.Itstunshimmomentarily.Ispinandstrikehimhardinthejawwithmyelbow—
—butthensomethinghitsmehardinthebackofmyhead.Starsexplodeacrossmyvision.Istumble,fallingtooneknee,andstruggletoswimupthroughmyblindness.Thesecondsoldiermust’vestruckmefrombehind.Iswingoutagain,tryingmybesttoguessatwherethesoldieris,butImissandfallagain.Throughmyhazyvision,Iseethesoldierraisethebuttofhisguntostrikemeagainintheface.Theblowwillknockmeunconscious.Itryinvaintorollaway.
Thestrikedoesn’tcome.Iblink,strugglingtomyfeet.Whathappened?Whenmyvisionclearsabit,Inoticethelastsoldierlyingonthegroundandlabtechsrushingovertotietheirhandsandfeet.Suddenlytherearepeopleeverywhere.StandingovermeisTess,paleandsicklyandbreathinghard,clutchingariflefromoneoftheotherfallensoldiers.Ihadnotnoticedherleavingherroom.
Shemanagesaweaksmile.“You’rewelcome,”shesays,extendingahandtohelpmeup.
Ismileback.Shepullsme,trembling,tomyfeet.WhenIswayonuncertainlegs,sheoffersmehershouldertoleanon.Neitherofusisverysteady,butwedon’tfall.
“Ms.Iparis,”Mikhaelgaspsoutashehurriesovertous.“We’vemanagedtoreachtheElector—we’vetoldhimaboutthecure.ButwealsojustreceivedawarningtoevacuatetheBankTower.TheysaythefakesurrenderwillendverysoonandthatoneoftheColonies’firsttargetsofretaliationwillbe—”
Ashuddershakesthehospital.Weallfreezewhereweare.Iglanceatthehorizon—atfirsttheshudderfeltabitlikeanearthquake,ortherumbleofapassingairship,buttheshakingissetoffinshort,regularintervalsinsteadofthesharprollofaseismicwaveorthelow,steadyhumofairships—andaninstantlater,Irealizethattheairshipbases’bombsmusthavebegungoingoff.Irunto
thewindowwithTess,wherewelookonasbrightplumesoforangeandgraybillowupfromthebasesliningthehorizon.Panictakesholdofme.Daymusthavemadehisannouncement.Whetherornothesurvivedit,Ihavenoidea.
Thephonysurrender’sover;theceasefirehasended.ThefinalfightfortheRepublichasbegun.
WHENIWASFIFTEEN,IBROKEINTOABANKINLOSANGELESafterguardsstandingatitsbackentrancedidn’tbelieveIcoulddoitintenseconds.Thenightbefore,Ihadmadeadetailedmentalchecklistofthelayoutofthatbank,notingeveryfootholdandwindowandledge,andguesstimatedeveryfloorinside.Iwaiteduntilitsguardsrotatedatmidnight,andthenIsnuckintothebuilding’sbasement.There,Isetatinyexplosiveonthevault’slock.TherewasnowayIcouldbreakinatnightwithouttriggeringtheiralarms...butthenextmorning,whenguardsheadeddowntothevaulttocheckontheinventory,mostofthelaser-guidedalarmsthroughoutthebuildingwouldbeoff.Itimedmyentrancethenextdaytocoincide.AsItauntedtheguardsatthebank’sbackentrance,theguardsinsidethebankwereopeningthevaultdoor.Andtheexplosivewentoff.Atthesametime,Ileapedthroughthebank’ssecondfloorwindow,thendownthesteps,thenintothevaultthroughsmokeanddust,andmademywayoutofthebuildingbyhookingthebank’swaitinglinechainstomyselfandswingingoutofthetopfloor.Youshould’veseenme.
Now,asIwalkstraightuptheinnerrampsofapyramiddockandtowardtheentranceofmyveryfirstColoniesairship,flankedonbothsidesbyColoniessoldiers,Irunthroughmyoldbankstuntandfeelanoverwhelmingurgetoflee.Toswingontothesideoftheship,losethetroopstailingme,andweaveintoitsvents.Myeyessweeptheshipandtrytomapoutthebestescaperoutes,theclosesthidingplaces,andmostconvenientfootholds.Walkingstraightuptoitlikethisleavesmefeelingwaytooopenandvulnerable.Still,Idon’tshowitonmyface.WhenIreachtheentranceandapairoflieutenantsushersmeinside,thenpatsmedownthoroughlyforanyweapons,Ijustsmilepolitelyatthem.IftheChancellorwantstoseemeintimidated,hemightbedisappointed.
Thesoldiersdon’tcatchthetiny,coin-sizerounddiscssewnintomyboots.Oneisarecorder.Ifthere’sanyconversationIwanttohavetouse
againsttheColonies,it’sthisone,tobeshowntotheentirepublic.Theothersaretinyexplosives.Outside,somewherebeyondtheairshipbaseandhiddeninthebuildings’shadows,arePascaoandseveralotherPatriots.
Ihopethepeoplearereadyformysignal.Ihopethey’relisteningformyfinalstep,watchingandwaiting.
It’sthefirsttimeI’vebeeninanairshipthathasnoportraitsoftheElectorhangingonitswalls.Instead,interspersedbetweenswallowtail-shapedblue-and-goldflagsareads,screensashighasthewallsthatadvertiseeverythingfromfoodtoelectronicstohouses.Igetanuncomfortablesenseofdéjàvu,recallingthetimeJuneandIhadstumbledintotheColonies,butwhenthelieutenantsglancemyway,Ijustshrugatthemandkeepmyeyesdown.Wemakeourwaythroughthecorridorsanduptwoflightsofstairsbeforetheyfinallyushermeintoalargechamber.Istandthereforamoment,unsureofwhattodonext.Thislookslikesomesortofobservationdeck,withalongglasswindowthatgivesmeaviewofLosAngeles.
Alonemanstandsbythewindow,thecity’slightpaintinghissilhouetteblack.Hewavesmeover.“Ah,you’refinallyhere!”heexclaims.InstantlyIrecognizethesmooth,coaxingvoiceoftheChancellor.HelooksnothinglikehowIpicturedhim:He’sshortandsmall,frail,hishairrecededandgray,hisvoicewaytoobigforhisbody.There’saslighthunchtohisshoulders,andhisskinlooksthinandtranslucentinsomeareas,likeit’smadeofpaperandmightcrumpleifIweretotouchit.Ican’tkeepthesurpriseoffmyface.ThisisthemanwhorulesovercorpslikeDesCon,whothreatensandbulliesanentirenationandnegotiateswithmanipulativeprecision?Alittleanticlimactic,tobehonest.IalmostwritehimoffbeforeIgetagoodlookathiseyes.
Andthat’swhereIrecognizetheChancellorI’vespokentobefore.Hiseyescalculate,analyze,anddeducemeinawaythatchillsmetothebone.Somethingisincrediblywrongaboutthem.
ThenIrealizewhy.Hiseyesaremechanical.“Well,don’tjuststandthere,”hesays.“Comeonover.Enjoytheview
withme,son.Thisiswherewe’llhaveyoumakeyourannouncement.Anicevantagepoint,isn’tit?”
Aretort—“Theview’sprobablybetterwithoutalltheColoniesairshipsintheway”—isonthetipofmytongue,butIswallowitwithsomeeffortanddoashesays.HesmilesasIstopbesidehim,andIdomybestnotto
lookintohisfalseeyes.“Well,lookatyou,allyoungandfreshfaced.”Heclapsmeontheback.
“Youdidtherightthing,youknow,cominghere.”HegazesbackatLosAngeles.“Doyouseeallthat?What’sthepointofstayingloyaltothat?You’reaColoniannow,andyouwon’thavetoputupwiththeRepublic’stwistedlawsanymore.We’lltreatyouandyourbrothersowellthatyou’llsoonwonderwhyyoueverhesitatedtojoinus.”
Fromthecornerofmyeyes,Imakenoteofpossibleescaperoutes.“What’llhappentothepeopleintheRepublic?”
TheChancellortapshislipsinadisplayofthoughtfulness.“TheSenators,unfortunately,mightbelesshappyaboutthewholething—andasfortheElectorhimself...well,youcanonlyhaveonerealrulerforonecountry,andIamalreadyhere.”Heoffersmeasmilethatbordersonkindness,astartlingcontrasttohisactualwords.“HeandIaremorealikethanyoumightthink.Wearenotcruel.Wearesimplypractical.Andyouknowhowtrickyitcanbetodealwithtraitors.”
Ashiverrunsdownmyspine.“AndthePrinceps-Elects?”Irepeat.“WhataboutthePatriots?Thiswaspartofourdeal,remember?”
TheChancellornods.“OfcourseIremember.Day,therearethingsyou’lllearnaboutpeopleandsocietywhenyougetolder.Sometimes,youjusthavetodothingsthehardway.Now,beforeyouworkyourselfupintoapanic,knowthatMs.Ipariswillbeunharmed.Wealreadyhaveplanstopardonherforyoursake,giventhatyou’llbehelpingusout.Partofourdeal,justlikeyousaid,andIdonotgobackonmyword.TheotherPrinceps-ElectswillbeexecutedalongwiththeElector.”
Executed.Soeasy,justlikethat.IgetanauseousfeelinginmystomachatthememoryofAnden’sbotchedassassination.Thistimehemightnotbesolucky.“AslongasyouspareJune,”Imanagetochokeout,“andaslongasyoudon’thurtthePatriotsormybrother.Butyoustillhaven’tansweredmyfirstquestion.WhatwillhappentothepeopleoftheRepublic?”
TheChancelloreyesme,thenleanscloser.“Tellme,Day,doyouthinkthemasseshavetherighttomakedecisionsforanentirenation?”
Iturntostareatthecity.It’salongdropfromheretothebottomofthenavalbase;I’llhavetofindawaytoslowmyselfdown.“Thelawsthataffectanentirenationwillalsoaffectthatnation’sindividuals,yeah?”Ireply,goadinghim.Ihopemyrecorder’spickingallthisup.“Soofcoursethepeoplehavearighttocontributetothosedecisions.”
TheChancellornods.“Afairanswer.Butfairnessdoesnotpowernations,Day,doesit?Ihavereadhistoriesaboutnationswhereeverypersonisgivenanequalstartinlife,whereeveryonecontributestothegreatergoodandnooneisricherorpoorerthananyoneelse.Doyouthinkthatsystemworked?”Heshakeshishead.“Notwithpeople,Day.That’ssomethingyou’lllearnwhenyougrowup.Peoplebynatureareunjust,unfair,andconniving.Youhavetobecarefulwiththem—youhavetofindawaytomakethemthinkthatyouarecateringtotheireverywhim.Themassescan’tfunctionontheirown.Theyneedhelp.Theydon’tknowwhat’sgoodforthem.AndasforwhatwillhappentothepeopleoftheRepublic?Well,Day,I’lltellyou.Thepeopleasawholewillbethrilledtobeintegratedintooursystem.Theywillknoweverythingthattheyneedtoknow,andwewillmakesuretheyareallputtogooduse.Itwillbeawell-oiledmachine.”
“Everythingtheyneedtoknow?”“Yes.”Hefoldshishandsbehindhisbackandstickshischinup.“Do
youreallybelievethatthepeoplecanmakealloftheirowndecisions?Whatafrighteningworld.Peopledon’talwaysknowwhattheyreallywant.Youshouldknowthatbetterthananyone,Day,whatwithyourannouncementsolongagoinfavoroftheElector,andwiththeannouncementyou’llgiveustoday.”Hetiltshisheadalittleashetalks.“Youdowhatyouneedtodo.”
Youdowhatyouneedtodo.EchoesofthephilosophyoftheRepublic’sownformerElector—echoesofsomethingthat,nomatterwhatcountryI’min,neverseemstochange.Onthesurface,Ijustnod,butinside,Ifeelasuddenhesitationtogothroughwithmyplan.He’sbaitingyou,Iremindmyself,lostinthestruggle.YouarenotliketheChancellor.Youfightforthepeople.
Youarefightingforsomethingreal.Aren’tyou?I’vegottogetoutofhere,beforeheworkshiswaydeeperintomymind.
Mymusclestenseup,readyfortheannouncement.Istudytheroomfrommyperipheralvision.“Well,”Isaystiffly,“let’sgetthisoverwith.”
“Moreenthusiasm,myboy,”theChancellorsays,clickinghistongueinmockdisapproval,andthengivesmeaseriouslook.“Wethoroughlyexpectyoutosellyourpointtothepeople.”
Inod.Istepforwardtowardthewindow,thenlettwosoldiershookmymikeuptobroadcastfromtheairship.Atransparent,livevideoofmesuddenlyappearsontheglass.Shiversrundownmyentirebody.Thereare
Coloniessoldiersallovertheplace,andthey’veensuredthatifIdon’tmakemymovejustright,I’llhavesentencedmyselfandmostlikelyallofmylovedonestodeath.Thisisit.Thereisnoturningbackfromhere.
“PeopleoftheRepublic,”Ibegin.“Today,IstandherewiththeChancelloroftheColonies,onboardhisveryownairship.Ihaveamessageforallofyou.”Myvoicesoundshoarse,andIhavetoclearmythroatbeforecontinuing.WhenIshiftmytoes,Icanfeelthebumpofthetwotinyexplosivesonthebottomofmyboots’soles,readyformynextmove.IhopetohellthatthemarkersthatPascao,theotherRunners,andIleftacrossthecityhavedonetheirwork,andthatthepeopleareprepared.
“We’vebeenthroughalottogether,”Icontinue.“ButfewthingshavebeenmoretryingthanthelastfewmonthsintheRepublic.Believeme,Iknow.AdjustingtoanewElector,seeingthechangesthathavecomearound...andasyouallknowbynow,Ihaven’tbeendoingsowellmyself.”Myheadachethrobsasifinresponse.Outsidetheairship,myvoiceechoesacrossthecityfromthevideofeedplayingfromdozensofColoniesairshipsandhundredsofLosAngelesJumboTrons.Itakeadeepbreath,asifthismightbethelasttimeIeverspeaktothepeople.“YouandIwillprobablynevergetachancetomeet.ButIknowyou.Youhavetaughtmeaboutallthegoodthingsinmylife,andwhyI’vefoughtformyfamilyalltheseyears.Ihopeforgreatthingsforyourownlovedones,thattheycangothroughlifewithoutsufferingthewayminehave.”Ipausehere.MyeyesturntofacetheChancellor,andhenodsonce,coaxingmeon.MyheartisbeatingsoloudlythatIcanbarelyhearmyownvoice.
“TheColonieshavemuchtoofferyou,”Isay,myvoicegrowingstronger.“Theirshipsarenowinourskies.ItwillnotbelongbeforeyouseeColoniesbannersflyingaboveyourchildren’sschoolsandoveryourhomes.PeopleoftheRepublic,Ihaveonefinalmessageforyou,beforeyouandIsayfarewelltoeachother.”
It’stime.Mylegstense,andmyfeetshifteversoslightly.TheChancellorlookson.
“TheRepublicisweakandbroken.”Inarrowmyeyes.“Butitisstillyourcountry.Fightforit.Thisisyourhome,nottheirs.”
InthesamemomentthatIseetheChancellor’senragedexpression,IspringfromwhereI’mstandingandkickattheglassashardasIcan.Coloniessoldiersrushtowardme.Mybootshitthewindow—theexplosivesembeddedinmysolesgivetwobriefpops,sendingtremorsthroughmyfeet.
Theglassshatters.AndnowI’mmidair,sailingthroughtheopenspace.Myarmswhipup
andgrabthetopedgeofthebrokenwindowpane.Abulletzipsby.TheChancellor’sfuriousshoutrisesupfrominside.Guessthey’renotgoingtotrykeepingmealiveafterthat.Allmyadrenalinerushesforwardinafloodofheat.
Ishimmyupandoutintotheeveningair.Notimetowaste.Mycapthreatenstoblowoff—Ihangoutthewindowforasecondandtrytoadjustitmoresnuglyontomyhead.LastthingIneedrightnowistohavemyhairblowingaroundlikeabeaconforanyoneonthegroundtosee.Whenthegustsdiedownabit,Ipullmyselfcompletelyoutandclingtothewindowframe.Ilookup,gaugingthedistancetothenextwindow.ThenIjump.Myhandsgrabontothebottomledgeoftheframe,andwithdifficulty,Imanagetopullmyselfup.Igruntfromtheeffort.Neverwould’vehadaproblemwiththisayearago.
WhenI’vehoppedtoafourthwindow,Ihearthefaintsoundofsomethingpopping.Then,thefirstexplosion.
Atremorrunsdeepthroughtheentireairship,nearlyshakingloosemygrip,andwhenIglancedown,Iseeaballoforangeandgrayexplodefromwheretheairshipisdockedtoitspyramidbase.ThePatriotsaremakingtheirmove.Asecondexplosionfollows—thistimetheairshipcreaksslightly,tiltingtotheeast.Grittingmyteeth,Ipickupspeed.Oneofmyfeetslipsagainstawindowframeatthesametimeagustofwindblowsby—Ialmostlosemybalance.Forasecondmylegdanglesprecariously.“C’mon,”Iscoldmyself.“Youcallthisarun?”ThenIthrowonearmupasfarasIcanandmanagetocatchthenextwindowbeforemylegsgivewaycompletely.Theefforttriggersadullflashofpainatthebackofmyhead.Iwince.No,notnow.Anytimebutnow.Butit’snouse.Ifeeltheheadachecoming.IfIgethitwithitrightnow,I’llbeinsomuchpainthatI’llplummettomydeathforsure.Desperately,Iclimbfaster.Myfeetslipagainonthetopmostwindow.Imanagetocatchmyselfatthelastsecond,thengrabtheledgeoftheupperdeckasmyheadacheexplodesinfullforce.
Blindingwhitepain.Idanglethere,clingingonfordearlife,fightingagainsttheagonythatthreatenstopullmeunder.Twomoreexplosionsfollowthefirstcoupleinrapidsuccession,andnowtheairshipcreaksandgroans.Ittriestolaunch,firingawayfromthebase,butallitmanagestodoisshudder.IftheChancellorgetshishandsonmenow,he’llkillmehimself.
Somewherefaraway,Ihearasirensound—soldiersontheupperdeckmustknowbynowthatI’mheadingthere,andthey’llbereadyforme.
Mybreathscomeinshortgasps.Openyoureyes,Icommandmyself.Youhavetoopenthem.Throughablurryveiloftears,Iseeaglimpseoftheupperdeckandsoldiersrunning.Theirshoutsringoutacrossthedeck.Foraninstant,IlosemymemoryagainofwhereIam,whatI’mdoing,whatmymissionis.Theunfamiliaritymakesmystomachheave,andIhavetokeepmyselffromthrowingup.Think,Day.You’vebeeninbadsituationsbefore.Mymemoryblurs.WhatdidIneeduphereagain?FinallyIclearmymind—Ineedsomewaytoswingdowntothebottomoftheship.ThenIrememberthesleekmetalchainrailingsliningtheedgeofthedeck,andmyoriginalplan—myeyesswiveluptothenearestchain.Withenormouseffort,Ireachoutandgrabatit.Imissthefirsttime.Thesoldiersseemenow,andseveralofthemruninmydirection.Igritmyteethandtryagain.
ThistimeIreachthechain.Igrabitwithbothhands,thenyankdown.Thechainpopsfreefromitshooks.Ithrowmyselfoffthesideoftheship—andletmyselffall.Ihopetohellthischaincansupportmyweight.There’sachorusofpopsasthechainsnapsfreeofhooksonbothsides,sendingmedownatdizzyingspeed.Thepaininmyheadthreatenstoweakenmygrip.IhangonwitheveryshredofstrengththatIhave.Myhairbillowsaroundme,andIrealizemycapmust’vefallenoff.Down,down,downIfall.Theworldzipspastmeatthespeedoflight.Throughtherushingwind,myheadslowlyclears.
SuddenlyonesideofthechainsnapslooserightasIreachthebottomoftheship.AlungfulofairescapesmeasI’mvaultedtooneside.ImanagetograbtheremainingchainwithbothhandsandhangontightlyasIswingalongthebottomsideoftheship.Thepyramidbaseisalmostcloseenoughundermyfeetformetojump,butI’mgoingwaytoofast.Iswingclosertothesideoftheship,thenscrapetheheelsofmybootshardagainstthesteel.There’saloud,longscreech.Mybootsfinallyfindtraction—theforcespinsmefrommyswingandsendsmetwirling.Ifighttosteadymyself.BeforeIcan,though,thechainfinallybreaksandItumbleontotheoutsideofthepyramidbase.
Theimpactknocksallthewindoutofme.Iskidagainstthesmooth,slantedwallsforafewseconds,untilmybootscatchagainstthesurfaceandIstopthere,bruisedandlimp,convincedsoldiersaregoingtofillmewithbulletsasIlievulnerableagainstthepyramid.Pascaoandtheotherswill
knowbynowthatI’vemademymove,andthey’llbesettingoffthebombsallalongthenavalbases.IbettergetoffthisthingbeforeI’mburnttoacrisp.Thatthoughtfillsmymindandgivesmethestrengthtopullmyselfup.IslidedownthesideasfastasIcan—below,IcanalreadyseeColoniessoldiersrushingtostopme.Asenseofhopelessnessstabsme.There’snowayinhellI’llgetpastallofthemintime.Still,Ikeepmoving.Ihavetogetawayfromtheexplosionsite.
I’mseveraldozenyardsfromthebottom.Soldiersareclamberinguptoseizeme.Itenseup,pushmyselfupintoacrouch,andquicklymovesidewaysagainsttheslantedbase.I’mnotgoingtomakeit.
Theinstantthiscrossesmymind,thetwofinalexplosionsgooffundertheairship.
Ahugeroarabovemeshakestheearth,andwhenIglancebehindme,Iseeanenormousfireballriseupfromwheretheairshipisdockedwiththetopofthebase.Allalongthenavalbase,orangeflamesburstfromeverysinglepyramiddock.They’vegoneoffinunison.Theresultisabsolutelyjaw-dropping.QuicklyIglancebacktothesoldierswhowerechasingme—they’vepaused,shockedbywhatthey’rewitnessing.Anotherdeafeningburstofflameeruptsaboveusandthetremorsknockeveryoneofftheirfeet.Istruggletostabilizemyselfagainsttheslantedwall.Move,move,move!Istaggerdownthelastfewyardsofthebase’swallandfalltomykneesontheground.Theworldspins.AllIcanheararetheshoutsofsoldiersandtheroaroftheinfernoslightingupthenavalbases.
Handsgrabme.Istruggle,butIhavenomorestrengthleft.SuddenlytheydropmeandIhearafamiliarvoiceatmyside.Iturninsurprise.Whoisthis?Pascao.HisnameisPascao.
Hisbrightgrayeyescrinkleatme—hegrabsmyhandandurgesmetorun.“Nicetoseeyoualive.Let’skeepitthatway.”
FROMTHEBANKTOWERINDOWNTOWNLA,I
CANSEEthegiantplumesoforangeflamelightingupthenavalbasesalongthecoast.Theblastsareenormous,illuminatingtheedgeoftheskywithblindinglightandechoingthroughtheair,theforceshakingtheglasswindowsofthetowerasIlookon.Hospitalstaffmillaroundmeinasceneofcommotion.ThelabteamsarepreppingbothTessandEdenforevacuation.
AcallcomesinfromPascao.“I’vegotDay,”heshouts.“Meetusoutside.”Mykneesturnweakwithrelief.He’salive.Hemadeit.IpeekinsideTess’s
room,whereshe’sbeingsecuredtoawheelchair,andgiveherathumbs-up.Shebrightens,eveninherweakenedstate.Outsidethetower,Iseetheshadowengulfingourbuildingbegintomove—theColoniesairshiphoveringoverheadisheadingawayfromustojoinintobattle.Asifourexplosionshaveunsettledanestofwasps,dozensofColoniesfighterjetsaretakingofffromitsdeckaswellasthedecksofthedistant,crippledairships,theirshapesformingsquadronsinthesky.Republicjetsmeettheminmidair.
Hurry,Antarctica.Please.IrushoffthelabflooranddownthestairstothelobbyoftheBankTower.
There’schaoseverywhere.Republicsoldiershurrypastmeinablurofmotion,whileseveralgatheratthefrontdoorstopreventanyoneelsefromgettinginside.“Thishospitalisofflimits!”onebarks.“Bringtheinjuredacrossthestreet—weareevacuating!”ThescreensliningthehallshowscenesofRepublicsoldiersclashingwithColoniestroopsinthestreets—and,tomysurprise,RepubliccivilianswieldingwhateverweaponstheycanfindandjoiningintopushtheColoniesback.Firesburnalongtheroads.Atthebottomofeveryscreeninbold,menacinglettersisthescrollingtext:ALLREPUBLICSOLDIERSTOBREAKSURRENDER.ALLREPUBLICSOLDIERSTOBREAKSURRENDER.Icringeatthescene,eventhoughthisisexactlywhatwehadplannedfor.
Outside,thenoiseofbattledeafensme.Fighterjetsroarpastusoverhead,
whileothershoverdirectlyovertheBankTower,preparedtodefendthetallestbuildinginLAif—when—theColoniestrytoattack.Iseesimilarformationsoverotherprominentdowntownbuildings.“Comeon,Day,”Imutter,scanningthestreetsnearbyforsignsofhisbrighthair,orofPascao’spaleeyes.Adeeptremorshakestheground.Anotherballoforangeflameexplodesbehindseveralrowsofbuildings,thenapairofColoniesjetszoomby,followedcloselybyaRepublicplane.ThesoundissoloudthatIpressbothhandstomyearsuntilthey’vepassed.
“June?”Pascao’svoicecomesovermymike,butIcanbarelyhearhim.“We’realmosthere.Whereareyou?”
“InfrontoftheBankTower,”Ishoutoverthenoise.“We’vegottaevacuate,”herepliesimmediately.“Gettingsomefeedback
fromourHackers—theColoniesareaimingtoattackthebuildingwithinthehour—”
Asifoncue,aColoniesjetscreamsby,andaninstantlater,anenormousexplosiongoesoffattheverytopoftheBankTower.Soldiersallaroundmeletoutshoutsofwarningasglassfallsfromthehighestfloors.Ijumpbackwardintothesafetyofthebuilding’sentrance.Debrisrainsdowninathunderousstorm,crushingjeepsandshatteringintoamillionpieces.
“June?”Pascao’svoicecomesbackon,clearlyalarmednow.“June—areyouokay?”
“I’mfine!”Ishoutback.“I’llhelpwithevacuationsonceIseeyou.Seeyousoon!”ThenIhangup.
Threeminuteslater,IfinallyspotDayandPascaostaggeringtowardtheBankToweragainstthetideofciviliansescapingtheareaandsoldiersrushingtodefendthestreets.Theystumblethroughthedebris.IrushfromtheentrancetowardDay,who’sleaningheavilyagainstPascao’sgoodshoulder.
“Areeitherofyouinjured?”Iask.“I’mfine,”Pascaoreplies,noddingatDay.“Notsureaboutthisguy.Ithink
he’smoreexhaustedthananything.”IswingDay’sotherarmaroundmyshoulder.PascaoandIhelphiminside
thelobbyofabuildingseveralblocksfromtheBankTower,wherewestillhaveadirectviewofthetowerandthechaotic,debris-filledsquarethatsitsbetweenthetwobuildings.Inside,rowsofinjuredsoldiersarealreadycampedout,withmedicsrunningfranticallybetweenthem.“We’reclearingoutthetower,”IexplainaswegentlyhelpDaydowntotheground.Hegrimacesinpain,eventhoughIcan’tfindanyspecificwoundsonhim.“Don’tworry,”Ireassurehim
whenheglancesupatmeinalarm.“EdenandTessarebeingevacuatedrightnow.”
“Andsoshouldyou,”headds.“Thefight’sjustbeginning.”“IfItellyoutostopworrying,willyou?”Myreplygetsawrysmilefromhim.“AretheAntarcticanscomingtohelp
us?”Dayasks.“DidyoutellAndenaboutthecure—”“Calmdown,”Iinterrupthim,thenstandupandputahandonPascao’s
shoulder.“Watchoutforhim.I’mgoingbacktothetowertohelpwiththeevacuations.I’lltellthemtobringhisbrotherhere.”Pascaonodsquickly,andIcastonelastglancetowardDaybeforerunningoutofthebuilding.
Astreamofpeopleismakingitswayoutofthetower,withRepublicsoldiersflankingthemoneitherside.Someareoncrutchesorinwheelchairs,whileothersarestrappedtogurneysandbeingwheeledoutbyateamofmedics.Republicsoldiersbarkordersatthem,theirgunshoistedandtheirbodiestense.Ihurrypastthemandtowardtheentrance,thenpushmywayinsidetothestairs.IhopupthestepstwoatatimeuntilIfinallyreachthelabfloor,wherethedoor’sproppedopenandanurseisdirectingpeopletowardtheelevator.
Ireachthenurseandgrabherarm.Sheturnstolookatme,startled.“Princeps-Elect,”shemanagestoblurtout,hastilybowingherhead.“Whatareyou—”
“EdenBataarWing,”Isaybreathlessly.“Ishereadytogoyet?”“Day’sbrother?”shereplies.“Yes—yes,he’sinhisroom.We’repreparingto
movehimcomfortably.Hestillneedstobeinawheelchair,but—”“AndTess?Thegirlwhowasunderquarantine?”“She’salreadyonherwaydownstairs—”Idon’twaitforthenursetofinishbeforerushingintothemainlabroomand
towardthecorridor.Attheveryend,IseeapairofdoctorswheelingEdenout.Helookslikehe’sunconscious,restingonasmallpillowproppedbetweenhisheadandthechair’sback,hisforeheaddampwithsweat.
Igivethedoctorsinstructionsonwheretotakehimasweallhurrytogethertowardtheelevator.“You’llseeDaythere.Keephimwithhisbrother.”
Anotherexplosionripsthroughthebuilding,forcinghalfofustoourknees.Someofthemedicsscream.Dustrainsdownfromtheceiling,makingmyeyeswater—Iunbuttonmycoat,thenshrugoutofitandthrowitacrossEdentoshieldhim.“Noelevator,”Igaspout,headingtowardthestairsinstead.“Canwecarryhimdown?”
OneofthenursesgingerlypicksEdenupandholdshimtightinherarms.
Wehurrydownthestairsasmoredustshowersusandmuffledsoundsofshouts,guns,andexplosionsechofromoutside.
Werushoutintoalengtheningeveninglitcompletelybythefireofbattle.StillnocallfromAnden.Myeyessweeptheroofsaswepauseunderneaththeentrance,otherevacueesstreamingaroundusandbetweenRepublicguards.Oneoftheguardsrecognizesmeandhurriesover,throwingaquicksalutebeforehespeaks.“Princeps-Elect!”heshouts.“Gettotheadjacentshelter,asquickasyoucan—we’llsendajeeptotakeyoutotheElector.”
Ishakemyheadrightaway.“No.I’mstayinghere.”Asparkfromtheroofsmakesmelookup,andinstantlyweallcringewhenabullethitstheoverhanginfrontofthemainentrance.ThereareColoniesgunmenontheroofs.SeveraloftheRepublicsoldierspointtheirgunsandopenfire.Theguardwhohadspokentomeputsahandonmyshoulder.“Thenmoveout,”heyells,gesturingwildlyforus.
ThenurseholdingEdentakesseveralstepsforward,hereyesstillfixedinterrorontherooftops.Iputahandouttostopher.“Notyet,”Isay.“Stayhereamoment.”Nottwosecondsafterthewordsleavemymouth,Iseeabullethitoneoftheevacuees—bloodsprays,andinstantlythepeoplearoundhimflee,screamsreverberatingintheair.MyheartpoundsasIscantheroofsagain.OneoftheRepublicsoldiersfinallycatchesagunman,andIseesomebodyinaColoniesuniformfallfromthetopofanearbybuilding.Ilookawaybeforethebodyhitstheground,butI’mstillstruckbyaviolentwaveofnausea.HowdowegetEdentosafety?
“Stayhere,”IcommandthenurseholdingEden.ThenItapfouroftheRepublicsoldiers.“Coverme.I’mheadingupthere.”Igestureforoneoftheguardstohandmethegunathisbelt,andhepassesitoverwithouthesitation.
Imoveintothecrowdsandmakemywaytowardthebuildings.ItrytoimitatetheeffortlessgracethatDayandPascaohaveinthisurbanjungle.Asthechaoticevacuationscontinueandsoldiersfrombothsidesfaceoffagainstoneanother,Ihurryintotheshadowsofanarrow,nearbyalleyandstartmakingmywayupthesideofthebuilding.I’msmall,dressedindarkclothes,andalone.Theywon’texpectmetoheaduphere.Mymindrunsthroughallofmysharpshootinglessons.IfIcanthrowthemoff,it’llgivetheevacueesthatmuchmoreofachancetomakeitoutinonepiece.EvenasIthinkthis,anotherColoniesjetzoomsoverheadandahugeplumeofbrightredflameeruptsontheBankTower.ARepublicjettailsclosebehindit,firingasitgoes—asIlookon,itmanagestohittheColoniesplaneandigniteoneofitsengines,sendingit
careeningwildlytoonesideandleavingatrailofdarksmokebehindit.Adeafeningroarfollows;itmusthavecrashedseveralblocksdown.Ilookbackupattheburningtower.Wedon’thavemuchtime.Thisbuildingisgoingtocomedown.IgritmyteethandmakemywayupasfastasIcan.IfonlyIwereasgoodaRunnerasDayandPascao.
Ifinallyreachthetopfloor’sledge.Fromhere,Igetagoodviewofthebattlezonebelowme.TheBankTowerisundersiegefromtheskyandtheground,wherehundredsofRepublictroopsarepushingbackinthestreetsagainstasteadytideofenemysoldiers.Patientsandmedicsalikestillstreamfromthetoweranddownthestreettowardthemakeshiftshelter,alongwithgovernmentofficialsfromthehigherfloors,manyofthemcoveredcompletelyinwhitedustandblood.Ipeeroverthetopledge.
Nogunmenhere.Ipullmyselfupontotheroof,carefultostayintheshadows.MyhandgripsthegunsotightlythatIcanbarelyfeelmyfingers.Iscantheroofsinthedangerzoneleadinguptotheshelter,untilfinallyIseeseveralColoniessoldierscrouchedontopoftheneighboringbuildings,takingaimattheRepublictroopsheadinguptheevacuation.Imakemywaysilentlytowardthem.
Itakethefirstonedownquickly,aimingathimfrombehindasIpeeroverthebuilding’stopledge.It’sasifIcanfeelMetiasguidingmygun,makingsureIhithimsomewherethatisn’tfatal.Ashecollapseswithamuffledshriekthat’slostinallthechaos,Irushoverandgrabhisgun,thenflingitoverthesideoftheroof.ThenIhithiminthefacehardenoughtoknockhimout.Myeyessettleonthenextsoldier.Ipressonehandagainstmyearpieceandclickmymikeon.
“Tellthenursetokeepwaiting,”IhissurgentlyattheguardbytheBankTower.“I’llsendasignalwhenit’s—”
Inevergetachancetofinishmysentence.Anexplosionthrowsmedownflatontotheroof.WhenIopenmyeyesandlookdown,theentirestreetiscompletelycoveredinashanddust.Dustbombs?Throughtheveilofsmokeanddirt,evacueesarerunninginpanictowardtheshelterandbreakingthroughthelinesofRepublicsoldiersflankingthem,completelyignoringtheirshouts.TheColoniesgunmenhavevisorson.Theymustbeabletoseethroughallthissmoke.Theyfiredownatthecrowds,scatteringtheminalldirections.Ilookfranticallytowardthetower.Where’sEden?Ihurrytomynexttarget,takinghimdowninthesamewayasthelast.Anothergunmandown.Ilockontomythirdtarget,thenspitoutacurseasIrealizethatmygunhasjustrunoutofbullets.
I’mabouttomakemywayofftheroofwhensomethingbrightglintsfroma
rooftop.Ifreezeinmytracks.Notfarfrommeonahigherbuilding,CommanderJamesoncrouchesona
roof.AchillshakesmefromheadtotoewhenIseethatshehasaguninherhand.No.No.
She’spickingoffRepublicsoldiers,onebulletatatime.Then,myheartstopsasshecatchessightofsomethingthatpiquesherinterest.Shetakesaimatanewtargetontheground.Myeyesfollowthelineofhergun.Andthat’swhenIseeaboywithbrightblondhairpushinghiswayagainstthestreamofthecrowdandtowardtheBankTower.
She’saimingatDay.
TESSGETSEVACUATEDFIRST—ISEEHERLIMPFORMBEINGcarriedinthearmsofanurseastheyexittheBankTower.Itakeherfromthenurse’sarmsassoonastheyreachgroundlevel,thencarryheralongsidethestreamofotherevacuees.Sheseemsonlyhalfconscious,unawareofmypresence,herheadlollingtooneside.Halfwaytotheshelter,Islowdown.Damn,I’msoexhaustedandinsomuchpain.
PascaotakesTessfrommyarms.Hehoistsheruptohischest.Ontheroofs,sparksfly—signsofgunfire.“GetbacktotheBankTowerentrance,”heyellsatmebeforeturninghisback.“I’llgetherover!”Andthenhe’soffbeforeIcanargue.
Iwatchthemgoforawhile,unwillingtolookawayuntilI’msureTessissafelyacrossthesquare.Whentheyreachtheshelter,Iturnmyattentionbacktothetower.Edenshouldbedownbynow.Icranemyneck,squintingthroughthecrowdsforaheadofblondcurls.HasJunecomebackdownstairsyet?Idon’tseeherinthepanickingmasseseitherandherabsencesendsajoltofworrythroughme.
Then,anexplosion.I’mthrowntotheground.Dust.Adustbomb,Imanagetothinkthroughthepoundinginmyhead.
AtfirstIcan’tseeanythingthroughallthesmoke—there’schaoseverywhere,sparksflying,andtheoccasionalmuffledsoundofgunfire;throughthefloatingwhitedust,IseeablurofpeoplerunningtowardthesafetyoftheRepublicbarricades,theirlegsmovingasifinslowmotion,theirmouthsopeninsilentshouts.Ishakemyheadwearily.Myownlimbsfeellikethey’redraggingthroughthemud,andthebackofmyheadthrobs,threateningtodrownmeinpain.Iblinkagainstit,tryingtokeepmysensesstraight.DesperatelyIcalloutagainforEden,butIcan’tevenhearmyownvoice.IfIcan’thearit,howcanhe?
Thepeoplethinoutforamoment.AndthenIseehim.It’sEden.He’sunconsciousinthearmsofaterrified
Republicnurse,onewhoseemstobestumblingblindlythroughthedust,headedinthewrongdirection—straighttowardtheColoniestroopsliningtheleftsideofthesquare,oppositeofwheretheshelteris.Idon’tstoptothinkorshoutathim,Idon’thesitateorwaitforagoodintervalinthegunfire.Ijuststartrunningtowardhim.
COMMANDERJAMESON’SGOINGTOSHOOTHIM—THEdirectionshe’saiminghergunisunmistakable.
Day’ssprintingthroughthedustthatblanketsthestreet.Day,whatareyoudoing?Hestumblesinhisdash,andevenfromtheroofsIcantellthathe’sstrugglingtomakehisbodymove,thateverylastinchofhimisscreamingfromexhaustion.He’sgoingtopushhimselftoofar.Iglanceinthedirectionhe’sgoing,searchingoutwhathasdrawnhisattention.
Eden.Ofcourse.ThenurseholdingEdentripsandfallsinthemidstofallthebillowingsmoke,andwhenshegetsup,feargetsthebestofherbecauseshejuststartsrunningaway.Furyrisesupinsideme.LeftbehindisEden,slowlystirringandcompletelyvulnerableintheopenstreet,blind,separatedfromthegroup,andcoughinguncontrollablyfromthesmoke.
Ijumptomyfeet.WiththewayDay’srunningoppositeofeveryoneelse,he’llsoonbeinanareawherehe’sanopentarget.
Myhandfliestomywaist—andthenIrememberthatmyowngunisoutofbullets.Isprintbackacrosstherooftoptowardmylasttarget,whereIhadn’tyetdroppedhisgunofftheroof.WhenIglancetowardCommanderJamesonagain,Iseehertenseandaim.No.No!Shefiresashot.
ThebulletmissesDaybyacoupleoffeet.Hestumblesinhisrush,throwinganarmbrieflyoverhisheadoutofinstinct,butpickshimselfupandcontinuesdoggedlyon.Myheartthudsfranticallyagainstmychest.Faster.Itakeaflyingleapfromonerooftothenext.Downbelow,IseeDaynearingEden.Thenhe’sthere,he’sreachedhim,he’sskiddingtoahaltnexttoEdenandthrowinghisarmsprotectivelyaroundhislittlebrother.Thedustaroundthemmakesthemhardtofocuson,asifthey’rebothghostsinfadedcolors.MybreathcomesinshallowgaspsasIdrawclosertothefallensoldiers.IhopethedustisthrowingCommanderJameson’saimoff.
Ireachthedownedsoldier.Igrabhisgun.Onebulletleft.
Below,DaypicksupEden,putsonehandprotectivelyagainstthebackofhisbrother’shead,andthenstartsstaggeringbacktowardtheshelterasfastashisbrokenbodywillallowhim.CommanderJamesontakesaimagain—Iscreaminmyheadandpushmyselftogofaster.Allofmyadrenaline,everyfiberofmyattentionandconcentration,isnowfocusedlikeanarrowonher.Shefires.Thistimethebulletmissesthebrothers,butitsparksbarelyafootawayfromDay.Hedoesn’tevenbothertolookup.HeonlyclutchesEdentighter,thenstumblesonward.
Ifinallyneartheroofwheresheis.Ileapontoit,landingonitsflatconcretesurface.Fromhere,IcanseeboththeroofI’monandthestreetbelow.Threedozenyardsaheadofme,partiallyobscuredbychimneysandvents,CommanderJamesoncroucheswithherbackturnedtome,herfocusonthestreets.
Shefiresagain.Downbelow,IhearahoarseshriekofpainfromavoiceIknowalltoowell.Allmybreathescapesme.IglancequicklytothestreettoseeDayfalltohisknees,droppingEdenforamoment.Thesoundsaroundmedull.
He’sbeenshot.Heshudders,thenpickshimselfupagain.HoistsEdenintohisarmsagain.
Staggersonward.CommanderJamesonfiresonemoretime.Thebulletmakesimpact.Ihoisttheguninmyhands,thenpointitstraightather.I’mcloseenoughnow,closeenoughtoseetheridgesofherbulletproofvestliningherback.Myhandsshake.Ihaveaperfectvantage,astraightshotrightatCommanderJameson’shead.She’sgettingreadytofireagain.
Iaim.Asiftheworldhassuddenlyslowedtoamillionframesasecond,
CommanderJamesonspinsaround.Shesensesmypresence.Hereyesnarrow—andthensheswivelsherguntowardme,takingherfocusoffDay.Thoughtsflashthroughmymindatthespeedoflight.Ipullmygun’strigger,firingmylastbulletstraightatherhead.
AndImiss.Inevermiss.Notimetodwellonthis—CommanderJamesonhashergunpointedatme,
andasmybulletwhizzespastherface,Iseehersmileandfire.Ithrowmyselftotheground,thenroll.Somethingsparksbarelyaninchfrommyarm.IdartbehindanearbychimneyandpressmyselfastightlyagainstthewallasIcan.Somewherebehindme,thesoundofheavybootsapproaches.Breathe.Breathe.Ourlastconfrontationflashesthroughmymind.WhycanIfaceeverythingintheworldexceptCommanderJameson?
“Comeoutandplay,LittleIparis,”shecallsout.WhenIstaysilent,shelaughs.“Comeout,soyoucanseeyourprettyboybleedingtodeathonthestreet.”
Sheknowsexactlyhowtoslicerightintomyheart.ButIgritmyteethandforcetheimageofableeding,dyingDayoutofmyhead.Idon’thavetimeforthisbullshit.WhatIneedtodoisdisarmher—andatthatthought,Ilookdownatmyuselessgun.Timetoplayagameofpretend.
She’ssilentnow.AllIcanhearisthesofttapofapproachingboots,thesteadynearingofmybrother’skiller.Myhandstightenonmygun.
She’scloseenough.Ishutmyeyesforaninstant,mutteraquickwhisperforgoodluck—andthenwhirloutfrommyhidingplace.IpointmygunupatCommanderJamesonasifI’mabouttofire.ShedoeswhatIhope—sheflinchestotheside,butthistimeI’mready,andIlungestraightforher.Ijump,thenkickherfaceashardasIcan.Mybootsmakeasatisfyingsoundonimpact.Herheadsnapsbackward.Hergriponhergunloosens,andItaketheopportunitytokickitrightoutofherhands.Shecollapsesontotheroofwithathud—hergunfliesofftooneside,thenfallsrightofftheroofandtothesmoke-filledstreetsbelow.
Idon’tdarestopmymomentum.Whileshe’sstilldown,Iswingmyelbowatherfaceinanefforttoknockherunconscious.Myfirstblowhits—butmysecondonedoesn’t.CommanderJamesongrabsmyelbow,snapsherotherhandonmywristlikeashackle,andthentwists.Iflipwithit.Painshootsupmyarmasitbendsinhergrasp.Beforeshecanbreakit,Itwistaroundandstomponherarmwiththesharpheelofmyboot.Shewinces,butdoesn’tletgo.Istompagain,harder.
Hergriploosensbyahair,andIfinallymanagetoslipoutofhergrasp.ShehopstoherfeetrightasIputsomedistancebetweenusandturnagainto
faceher.Westarttocircleeachother,bothofusbreathingheavily,myarmstillscreaminginpainandherfacemarredbyatrickleofbloodcomingfromhertemple.IalreadyknowIcan’twinagainstherinanall-outbrawl.She’stallerandstronger,equippedwithyearsoftrainingthatmytalentscan’tmatch.Myonlyhopeistocatchherbysurpriseagain,tofindawaytoturnherownforceagainsther.AsIcontinuetocircle,waitingandwatchingforanopening,theworldaroundusfadesaway.Idrawonallmyanger,lettingitreplacemyfearandgivemestrength.
It’sjustyouandmenow.Thisisthewayitwasalwaysmeanttobe,thisisthemomentI’vebeenwaitingforsinceitallbegan.We’llfaceeachotherattheveryendwithourbarehands.
CommanderJamesonstrikesfirst.Herspeedterrifiesme.Onesecondshe’sbeforeme,andthenextshe’satmyside,herfistflyingtowardmyface.Idon’thavetimetododge.AllImanagetodoisjerkmyshoulderupatthelastsecond,andherfisthitsmeinsteadasaglancingblow.Starsexplodeacrossmyeyes.Istumblebackward.Imanagetododgehernextblow—barely.Irollawayfromher,fightingtoclearmyvision,andpopbackontomyfeet.Whenshelungesagain,Ijumpupandkickatherhead.Itcatchesher,butshe’stoofastforittobehead-on.Idartawayagain.ThistimeIbackupslowlytowardtheedgeoftheroof,myeyesterrifiedtoleaveher.Good,Iremindmyself.Lookasfrightenedasyoucan.Finally,thebackofmyboothitstheroof’sledge.Iglancedown,thenbackupatCommanderJameson.Despiteaslightunsteadiness,shelooksundaunted.Itisn’thardformetofakethefearinmywideeyes.
Shestalkstowardmelikeapredator.Shedoesn’tsayaword,butshedoesn’tneedto—everythingshe’severwantedtotellmehasalreadybeensaidbefore.Itrunsthroughmyheadlikeapoison.LittleIparis,howmuchyouremindmeofmyselfatyourage.Adorable.Someday,you’lllearnthatlifeisn’talwayswhatyouwantittobe.Thatyouwon’talwaysgetwhatyouwant.Andthatthereareforcesoutofyourcontrolthatwillshapeyouintowhoyouare.Toobadyourtimeendshere.Itwould’vebeenfuntoseewhatyougrowuptobecome.
Hereyeshypnotizeme.Inthismoment,Icanimaginenoworsesight.Shelungesforward.Ihaveonlyonechance.Iduck,grabherarm,andflipherrightovermy
head.Hermomentumsendshersailingovertheedgeoftheroof.Butherhandclampsdownonmyarm.I’myankedhalfwayovertheledge—
myleftshoulderpopsoutofitssocket.Iscream.Myheelsdiginagainsttheledge,fightingtokeepmefromfallingover.CommanderJamesonflattensherselfagainstthesideofthebuilding,grapplingforfootholds.HernailsdigsodeepintomyfleshthatIcanfeelmyskinripping.Tearsspringtomyeyes.Downbelow,Republicsoldiersarestillherdingevacuees,firingonenemysoldiersonotherroofs,shoutingordersintotheirmikes.
IscreamatthemwitheverythingIhaveleft.“Shoother!”Ishout.“Shoother!”
TwoRepublicsoldierssnaptheirheadsinmydirection.Theyrecognizeme.Astheylifttheirgunsinmydirection,CommanderJamesonlooksupintomyeyesandgrins.“Iknewyoucouldn’tdoityourself.”
Thenthesoldiersopenfire,CommanderJameson’sbodyconvulses,hergripsuddenlyloosens,andsheplummetslikeawoundedbirdtothestreet.Iturn
awaysoIdon’thavetolook,butIstillhearthesickeningsoundofherbodyagainstpavement.She’sgone.Justlikethat.I’mleftwithherwordsandmyownringingthroughmyears.
Shoother.Shoother.Metias’swordsflashthroughmymind.Fewpeopleeverkillfortheright
reasons.Ihurriedlywipethetearsfrommyface.WhatdidIjustdo?Herbloodstains
myhands—Irubmygoodhandagainstmyclothes,butIcan’tgetitoff.Idon’tknowifI’lleverbeableto.“Thisistherightreason,”Iwhisperrepeatedly.
Perhapsshedestroyedherself,andIonlyhelped.Buteventhisthoughtseemshollow.
Theagonyofmydislocatedshouldermakesmelight-headed.Iliftmyrightarm,gripmywoundedleftarm,gritmyteeth,andpushhard.Iscreamagain.Theboneresistsforaninstant—andthenIfeelmyshoulderpopbackintoplace.Freshtearscoursedownmyface.Myhandstrembleuncontrollably,andmyearsring,blockingoutanysoundaroundmeexceptthebeatingofmyheart.
Howlonghasitbeen?Hours?Afewseconds?Thepulsinglightoflogicseepsintomymind,cuttingthroughthepain.As
always,itsavesme.Dayneedsyourhelp,itwhispers.Gotohim.IsearchforDay.Hehasreachedtheothersideofthestreetandthesafer
areasaroundtheshelter,whereRepublicsoldiershavesetuptheirbarricades...butevenasIstartrushingtotheedgeoftheroof,InoticethatothershavepulledEden’sunconsciousformawayfromDayandaretakinghimtosafety.AfewhoveroverDayasheliesontheground,momentarilyobscuringhimfrommyview.IscrambledownthebuildingasfastasIcan,untilIreachafireescapeandrushdownthemetalsteps.Fearandadrenalinenumbmyinjuries.
Please,Ibegsilently.Pleaselethimbeokay.BythetimeIreachhim,acrowdhasformed.Icanhearoneofthem
shouting,“Moveit!Getback,giveussomeroom!Tellthemtohurryup!”Alumpinmythroatchokesme,leavingmeshortofbreath.Mybootspoundagainsttheground,keepingrhythmwithmyheart.IshovepeopleasideanddroptomykneesatDay’sside.ThepersonshoutingwasPascao.Hegivesmeafranticlook.
“Staywithhim,”hetellsme.“I’mgoingforthemedics.”Inodonce,andhedashesoff.
Ibarelynoticeallthepeoplecrowdedaroundusinaring.AllIcandoislookdownatDay.He’stremblingfromheadtotoe,hiseyeswideopeninshock,
hishairclingingtohisface.WhenIlookcloserathisbody,Inoticetwowoundsspillingdarkbloodacrosshisshirt,onewoundinhischestandtheothernearhiship.Astrangledcrycomesfromsomeone.Maybeit’sfromme.Asifinadream,Ibendoverhimandtouchhisface.
“Day,it’sme.It’sJune.I’mrighthere.”Helooksatme.“June?”hemanagestogaspout.Hetriestoliftahandtomy
face,buthe’sshakingsohardthathecan’t.Ireachoutandcradlehisfacewithbothofmyhands.Hiseyesarefulloftears.“I—Ithink—I’vebeenshot—”Twopeoplefromthecrowdplacetheirhandsoverhiswounds,pressingdownhardenoughtoforceapainfulsobfromhismouth.Hetriestolookdownatthem,buthasnostrengthtolifthishead.
“Medicsareontheirway,”Itellhimfirmly,leaningcloseenoughtopressmylipsagainsthischeek.“Hangon.Okay?Staywithme.Keeplookingatme.You’llbeokay.”
“Idon’t—thinkso,”Daystammers.Heblinksrapidly,spillingtearsdownthesidesofhisface.Theywetthetipsofmyfingers.“Eden—ishesafe—?”
“He’ssafe,”Iwhisper.“Yourbrotherissafeandsoundandyou’llgettoseehimverysoon.”
Daystartstoreply,butcan’t.Hisskinlookssoashen.Please,no.Irefusetoletmyselfthinktheworst,butithangsoveruslikeablackshadow.Ifeeltheheavinessofdeathloomingovermyshoulder,hissightlesseyesstaringdownintoDay’ssoul,waitingpatientlytooverwhelmhislight.
“Idon’twant—togo—”Dayfinallymanagestosay.“Idon’twant—toleaveyou—Eden—”
Ishushhimbytouchingmylipstohistremblingones.“NothingbadwilleverhappentoEden,”Ireplygently,desperatetokeephimwithme.“Stayfocused,Day.You’regoingtothehospital.They’recomingbackforyou;itwon’tbelongnow.”
Itwon’tbelongnow.Dayjustsmilesatme,anexpressionsosadthatitbreaksthroughmy
numbness,andIbegintocry.Thosebrightblueeyes.BeforemeistheboywhohasbandagedmywoundsonthestreetsofLake,whohasguardedhisfamilywitheveryboneinhisbody,whohasstayedbymysideinspiteofeverything,theboyoflightandlaughterandlife,ofgriefandfuryandpassion,theboywhosefateisintertwinedwithmine,foreverandalways.
“Iloveyou,”hewhispers.“Canyoustayawhile?”Hesayssomethingelse,buthisvoicetrailsoffsoquietlythatIcan’tmakeoutwhatitis.No.No.You
can’t.Hisbreathinggrowsshallower.Icantellthatheisfightingtostayconscious,thatwitheverypassingsecond,hiseyeshavemoreandmoretroublefocusingonme.Foramoment,Daytriestolookatsomethingbehindme,butwhenIglanceovermyshoulder,there’snothingtherebutopensky.Ikisshimagainandthenleanmyheadagainsthis.
“Iloveyou,”Iwhisperoverandoveragain.“Don’tgo.”Iclosemyeyes.Mytearsfallonhischeeks.
AsIcrouchthereagainsthim,feelinghislifeslowlyebbaway,I’mconsumedwithgriefandrage.Ihaveneverbeenareligiousperson.Butrightnow,asIseemedicsinthedistancehurryingtowardus,Isendadesperateprayertosomehigherpower.Towhat,Idon’tknow.ButIhopethatSomeone,Anyone,hearsme.ThatIt’llliftusbothintoItsarmsandtakepityonus.IthrowthisprayerintotheskywitheveryshredofstrengthIhaveleft.
Lethimlive.Pleasedon’ttakehimawayfromthisworld.Pleasedon’tlethimdieherein
myarms,notaftereverythingwe’vebeenthroughtogether,notafterYou’vetakensomanyothers.Please,IbegYou,lethimlive.Iamwillingtosacrificeanythingtomakethishappen—I’mwillingtodoanythingYouask.MaybeYou’lllaughatmeforsuchanaïvepromise,butImeanitinearnest,andIdon’tcareifitmakesnosenseorseemsimpossible.Lethimlive.Please.Ican’tbearthisasecondtime.
Ilookdesperatelyaroundus,myvisionblurredwithtears,andeverythingisasmearofbloodandsmoke,lightandash,andallIcanhearisscreamingandgunfireandhatred,andIamsotiredofthefighting,sofrustrated,angry,helpless.
Tellmethereisstillgoodintheworld.Tellmethereisstillhopeforallofus.Throughanunderwaterveil,Ifeelhandsonmyarmspullmeawayfrom
Day.Istrugglestubbornlyagainstthem.Painlancesupmyinjuredshoulder.Medicsbenddownoverhisbody.Hiseyesareclosednow,andIcan’tseehimbreathing.ImagesofMetias’sbodyflashbacktome.WhenthemedicstryagaintopullmefromDay,Ishovethemroughlyawayandscream.Iscreamforeverythingthathasgonewrong.Iscreamforeverythingbrokeninourlives.
ITHINKJUNEISLEANINGOVERME,BUTIHAVETROUBLEmakingoutthedetailsofherface.WhenItrytoohard,theedgesofmyvisionfilteroutintoblindingwhite.Thepain,atfirstexcruciating,isnothingnow.Memoriesfadeinandout—memoriesofmyfirstdaysfrightenedandaloneonthestreets,withmybleedingkneeandhollowstomach;ofyoungTess,andthenofJohnwhenhefirstlearnedthatIwasstillalive;ofmymother’shome,myfather’ssmile,ofEdenasababy.IrememberthefirsttimeImetJuneonthestreets.Herdefiantstance,herfierceeyes.Then,gradually,Ihavetroublerememberinganything.
Ialwaysknew,onsomelevel,thatIwouldn’tlivelong.It’ssimplynotwritteninmystars.
SomethingbrighthoveringbehindJune’sshouldercatchesmyattention.IturnmyheadasmuchasIcantoseeit.Atfirstitlookslikesomeglowingorboflight.AsIkeepstaring,though,Irealizethatit’smymother.
Mom,Iwhisper.Istandandtakeasteptowardher.Myfeetfeelsolight.Mymothersmilesatme.Shelooksyoungandhealthyandwhole,her
handsnolongerwrappedinbandages,herhairthecolorofwheatandsnow.WhenIreachher,shegentlycupsmyfacebetweenhersmooth,uninjuredpalms.Myheartstopsbeating;itfillswithwarmthandlightandIwanttostayhereforever,lockedinthismoment.Ifalterinmysteps.MomcatchesmebeforeIcanfall,andwekneelthere,togetheragain.“Mylittlelostboy,”shemurmurs.
Myvoicecomesoutasabrokenwhisper.“I’msosorry.I’msosorry.”“Hush,mybaby.”Ibowmyheadasshekneelsoverme.Shekissesmy
forehead,andIamachildagain,helplessandhopeful,burstingwithlove.Pasttheblurry,goldenlineofherarm,Icanlookdownatmypale,brokenbodylyingontheground.There’sagirlcrouchedoverme,herhandsonmyface,herlongdarkhairdrapedoverhershoulder.She’scrying.
“AreJohnandDad...?”Ibegintosay.
Momjustsmiles.Hereyesaresoincrediblyblue,likeIcanseetheentireworldinsidethem—theskyandthecloudsandeverythingbeyond.
“Don’tworry,”shereplies.“Theyarewell,andtheyloveyouverymuch.”
Ifeelanoverwhelmingneedtofollowmymotherwherevershe’sgoing,whereverthatmighttakeus.“Imissyouguys,”Ifinallysaytoher.“Ithurtseveryday,theabsenceofsomeonewhowasoncethere.”
Momcombsagentlehandthroughmyhair,thewaysheusedtowhenIwaslittle.“Mydarling,there’snoneedtomissus.Weneverleft.”Sheliftsherheadandnodsatthestreet,pastthecrowdsofpeoplewhohavegatheredaroundmybody.Nowateamofmedicsisliftingmeontoastretcher.“GobacktoEden.He’swaitingforyou.”
“Iknow,”Iwhisper.IcranemynecktoseeifIcancatchaglimpseofmybrotherinthecrowds,butIdon’tseehimthere.
Momrises;herhandsleavemyface,andIfindmyselfstrugglingtobreathe.No.Pleasedon’tleaveme.Ireachoutahandtoher,butsomeinvisiblebarrierstopsit.Thelightgrowsbrighter.“Whereareyougoing?CanIcomewithyou?”
Momsmiles,butshakesherhead.“Youstillbelongontheothersideofthelookingglass.Someday,whenyou’rereadytotakethestepovertoourside,I’llcomeseeyouagain.Livewell,Daniel.Makethatfinalstepcount.”
FORTHEFIRSTTHREEWEEKSTHATDAYISINTHEHOSPITAL,Ineverleave.Thesamepeoplecomeandgo—Tess,ofcourse,who’sinthewaitingroomasmuchasIam,waitingforDaytocomeoutofhiscoma;Eden,whostaysaslongasLucyallowshimto;theotherremainingPatriots,especiallyPascao;anendlessassortmentofdoctorsandmedicswhoIbegintorecognizeandknowbynameafterthefirstweek;andAnden,whohasreturnedfromthewarfrontwithhisownscars.Hordesofpeoplecontinuetostaycampedoutaroundthehospital,butAndendoesn’thavethehearttotellthemtodisperse,evenwhentheycontinuetostakeoutthegroundsforweeksandthenmonths.Manyofthemhavethefamiliarscarletstreakspaintedintotheirhair.Forthemostpart,theystaysilent.Sometimestheychant.I’vegrownusedtotheirpresencenow,tothepointwhereit’scomforting.TheyremindmethatDayisstillalive.Stillfighting.
ThewarbetweentheRepublicandtheColonies,atleastfornow,isover.TheAntarcticansfinallycametoourrescue,bringingwiththemtheirfearsometechnologyandweaponsthatintimidatedAfricaandtheColoniesintoreturningtoourceasefireagreement,bringingbothAndenandtheChancellorbeforetheinternationalcourt,imposingthepropersanctionsagainstusandthemandfinally,finallybeginningtheprocessforapermanentpeacetreaty.Theashesofourbattlegroundsarestillhere,though,alongwithalingeringhostility.Iknowitwilltaketimetoclosethewounds.Ihavenoideahowlongthisceasefirewilllast,orwhentheRepublicandtheColonieswillfindtruepeace.Maybeweneverwill.Butfornow,thisisgoodenough.
OneofthefirstthingsthedoctorshadtodoforDay,afterstitchingupthehorrificbulletwounds,wastooperateonhisbrain.Thetraumahe’dsufferedmeanthecouldn’treceivethefullcourseofmedicationsneededtoproperlyprephimforthesurgery...buttheywentaheadwithit.Whetherornothewasreadywasirrelevantatthatpoint;iftheydidn’t,hewould’vediedanyway.Yet,still.
Thiskeepsmeawakenights.Noonereallyknowswhetherhe’llwakeupatall,orwhetherhe’llbeanaltogetherdifferentpersonifhedoes.
Twomonthspass,andthenthree.Gradually,weallstarttodoourwaitingathome.Thehospital’scrowds
finallybegintothin.Fivemonths.Winterpasses.At0728hoursonanearlyspringThursdayinMarch,Iarriveatthe
hospital’swaitingroomformyusualcheck-in.Asexpectedatthishour,I’mtheonlyonehere.Eden’sathomewithLucy,gettingsomeneededsleep.Hecontinuestogrow,andifDaywereawaketoseehimnow,Iknowhe’dcommentonhowhisbrotherisstartingtoleanout,losingthebabyfatonhisfaceandtakingtheearlystepsintoadulthood.
EvenTessisn’thereyet.Shetendstocomeinthelatemorningtoworkasamedicassistant,shadowingthedoctors,andwhenIcatchheronherbreaks,wehuddletogetherandexchangeconversationinhushedvoices.Sometimessheevenmakesmelaugh.“Helovesyou,reallyhedoes,”shetoldmeyesterday.“He’dloveyouevenifitdestroyedhim.Hematchesyou.Iguessit’skindofcute.”Shesaidthiswithashy,grudgingsmileonherface.Somehow,shehadmanagedtoreturntotheplacewhereI’dfirstknownher,butnowassomeoneolder,taller,andwiser.
Inudgedheraffectionately.“YouguyshaveabondIcouldnevertouch,”Ireplied.“Evenwhenwe’reatourworst.”
Sheblushedatthat,andIcouldn’thelpopeningmyhearttoher.AlovingTessisoneofthesweetestsightsintheworld.“Justbegoodtohim,”shewhispered.“Promise?”
NowIgreetthenurseatthewaitingroom’swindow,thensettledownintomyusualchairandlookaround.Soemptythismorning.IfindmyselfmissingTess’scompanionship.Itrytodistractmyselfwiththenewsheadlinesrunningonthemonitor.
ANTARCTICANPRESIDENTIKARI,UNITEDNATIONS,SHOWAPPROVALFORNEWPEACETREATYBETWEENREPUBLICANDCOLONIES
ELECTORPRIMOANNOUNCESSTARTOFNEW
RANKINGSYSTEMTOREPLACEFORMERTRIALS
NEWBORDERCITIESBETWEENREPUBLICANDCOLONIESTOBERENAMEDTHEUNITEDCITIES,TOBEGINALLOWINGIMMIGRATIONFROMBOTHNATIONSSTARTINGLATENEXTYEAR
SENATORMARIANADUPREEOFFICIALLYINDUCTEDASPRINCEPSOFTHESENATE
Thenewsheadlinesbringafaintsmiletomyface.Lastnight,AndenhadstoppedbymyapartmenttotellmeinpersonaboutMariana.I’dtoldhimthatIwouldextendmycongratulationstoherdirectly.“She’sverygoodatwhatshedoes,”Isaid.“MoresothanIwas.I’mhappyforher.”
Andenbowedhishead.“Youwouldhavebeenbetterinthelongrun,Ithink,”herepliedwithagentlesmile.“Youunderstandthepeople.ButI’mhappythatyou’rebackwhereyoufeelthemostcomfortable.Ourtroopsareluckytohaveyou.”Hehesitatedthen,andforamomenthetookmyhandinhis.Irememberthesoftneopreneliningofhisgloves,thesilvershineofhiscufflinks.“Imightnotgettoseemuchofyounow.Maybeit’sbestthatway,isn’tit?Still,pleasedodropbynowandthen.It’llbenicetohearfromyou.”
“Likewise,”Ireplied,squeezinghishandinreturn.Mythoughtssnapbacktothepresent.Oneofthedoctorshasemergedfrom
thehallwaynearDay’sroom.Hecatchessightofme,takesadeepbreath,andapproaches.Istraighten,tensing.It’sbeenalongtimesinceI’veheardanyrealupdatesonDay’sconditionfromDr.Kann.Apartofmewantstojumpupinexcitement,becauseperhapsthenewsisgood;anotherpartofmecringesinfear,incasethenewsisbad.Myeyesscanthedoctor’sface,searchingforclues.(Pupilsslightlydilated,faceanxious,butnotinthemannerofonewhoisabouttobreaktheworstnews.Therearehintsofjoyonhisface.)Mypulsequickens.Whatishegoingtotellme?Orperhapsit’snonewsatall—perhapshe’ssimplygoingtotellmewhatheusuallydoes.Notmuchchangetoday,I’mafraid,butatleasthe’sstillstable.I’vegrownsousedtohearingthat.
Dr.Kannpausesbeforeme.Headjustshisglassesandscratchesunconsciouslyathistrimmedsalt-and-pepperbeard.“Goodmorning,Ms.Iparis,”hesays.
“Howishe?”Iask,myusualgreeting.Dr.Kannsmiles,buthesitates(anotheroddity;thenewsmustbesignificant).
“Wonderfulnews.”Myheartstopsforasecond.“Dayhaswokenup.Lessthananhourago.”
“He’sawake?”Ibreathe.He’sawake.Suddenlythenewsistoooverwhelming,andI’mnotsurewhetherIcanbearit.Istudyhisfacecarefully.
“There’smoretoitthanthat,though.Isn’tthere?”Dr.Kannputsbothhandsonmyshoulders.“Idon’twanttoworryyou,Ms.
Iparis,notatall.Dayhaspulledthroughhissurgeryremarkablywell—whenhewokeup,heaskedforwaterandthenforhisbrother.Heseemsquitealertandcoherent.Weranaquickscanofhisbrain.”Hisvoiceturnsmoreexcited.“We’llneedtodoamorethoroughcheck,ofcourse,butuponfirstglanceitseemseverythinghasnormalized.Hishippocampuslookshealthy,andsignalsseemtobefiringnormally.Inalmosteveryaspect,theDaythatweknowisback.”
Tearsprickleattheedgesofmyeyes.TheDaythatweknowisback.Afterfivemonthsofwaiting,thenewsissosudden.Oneminutehewaslyingunconsciousinbed,hangingontolifenightbynight,andnowhe’sawake.Justlikethat.Ibreakintoasmilewiththedoctor,andbeforeIcanstopmyself,Ihughim.Helaughs,pattingmyheadawkwardly,butIdon’tcare.IwanttoseeDay.“Canhehavevisitors?”Iask.Then,abruptly,Irealizewhatthedoctoractuallysaid.“Whydoyousay‘almost’?”
Thedoctor’ssmilewavers.Headjustshisglassesagain.“It’snothingwecan’tfixoverthecourseofextendedtherapy.Yousee,thehippocampusregionaffectsmemories,bothshort-andlong-term.ItseemsthatDay’slong-termmemories—hisfamily,hisbrotherEden,hisfriendTess,andsoon—areintact.Afterafewquestions,however,itseemslikehehasverylittlerecollectionofbothpeopleandeventsfromthelastyearortwo.Wecallitretrogradeamnesia.Heremembershisfamily’sdeaths,forinstance...”Dr.Kann’svoicetrailsoffuncomfortablyhere.“ButhedoesnotseemfamiliarwithCommanderJameson’sname,ortherecentColonies’invasion.Healsodoesn’tseemtorecallyou.”
Mysmilefades.“He...doesn’trememberme?”“Ofcourse,thisissomethingthatcanhealovertime,withpropertherapy,”
Dr.Kannagainreassuresme.“Hisshort-termmemoryabilitiesareworkingwell.HeremembersmostthingsItellhim,andformsnewmemorieswithouttoomuchissue.Ijustwantedtowarnyoubeforeyouseehim.Don’tbestartledthathemightnotrememberyou.Takeyourtimeandreintroduceyourselftohim.Gradually,perhapsinafewyears’time,hisoldmemoriesmightcomeback.”
Inodatthedoctorasifinadream.“Okay,”Iwhisper.“Youcanseehimnow,ifyou’dlike.”Hesmilesatme,asifhe’sdelivering
thegreatestnewsintheworld.Andheis.Butwhenheleavesme,Ijuststandthereforamoment.Mymindinahaze.
Thinking.Lost.ThenItakeslowstepstowardthehallwaywhereDay’shospitalroomis,thecorridorclosinginaroundmelikeafoggy,blurrytunnel.Theonly
thingrunningthroughmyheadisthememoryofmydesperateprayeroverDay’swoundedbody,thepromiseIhadoffereduptotheheavensinexchangeforhislife.
Lethimlive.Iamwillingtosacrificeanythingtomakethishappen.Myheartsinks,turnsgray.Iunderstandnow.Iknowthatsomethinghas
answeredmyprayer,andatthesametimehasalsotoldmewhatmysacrificemustbe.IhavebeenofferedachancetoneverhurtDayagain.
Istepintothehospitalroom.Dayisalert,proppeduponpillowsandstartlinglyhealthierthanthetimesI’veseenhimlyingunconsciousandwanoverthepastfewmonths.Butsomethingisdifferentnow.Day’seyesfollowmewithoutahintoffamiliarityinthem;he’swatchingmewiththepolite,warydistanceofastranger,thewayhelookedatmewhenwefirstmet.
Hedoesn’tknowwhoIam.Myheartaches,pullingatmeasIdrawclosertohisbedside.IknowwhatI
havetodo.“Hi,”hesayswhenIsitonhisbed.Hiseyeswandercuriouslyacrossmy
face.“Hi,”Ireplysoftly.“DoyouknowwhoIam?”Daylooksguilty,whichonlydigstheknifeindeeper.“ShouldI?”Ittakesallofmyeffortnottocry,tobearthethoughtthatDayhasforgotten
everythingbetweenus—ournighttogether,theordealswe’vebeenthrough,allthatwe’vesharedandlost.Wehavebeenerasedfromhismemory,leavingnothingbehind.TheDaythatIknewisnothere.
Icouldtellhimrightnow,ofcourse.IcouldremindhimofwhoIam,thatI’mJuneIparis,thegirlhehadoncesavedonthestreetsandfalleninlovewith.Icouldtellhimeverything,justlikeDr.Kannsaid,anditcouldpossiblytriggerhisoldmemories.Tellhim,June.Justtellhim.You’llbesohappy.It’dbesoeasy.
ButIopenmymouthandnosoundcomesout.Ican’tdoit.Begoodtohim,Tesshadtoldme.Promise.SolongasIremaininDay’slife,Iwillhurthim.Anyotheralternativeis
impossible.Ithinkofthewayhehadcrouched,sobbing,athisfamily’skitchentable,mourningwhatIhadtakenawayfromhim.Nowfatehashandedthesolutiontomeonasilverplatter—Daysurvivedhisordeal,andinreturn,Ineedtostepoutofhislife.Eventhoughhelooksatmenowlikeastranger,henolongerhasthelookofpainandtragedythatalwaysseemedtocomewiththepassionandlovehegazedatmewith.Nowheisfree.
Heisfreeofus,leavingmeastheonlybearerofourpast’sburden.SoIswallowhard,smile,andbowmyheadtohim.“Day,”Iforcemyselfto
say,“it’sgoodtomeetyou.IwassentbytheRepublictoseehowyou’redoing.It’swonderfultoseeyouawakeagain.Thecountryisgoingtorejoicewhentheyhearthegoodnews.”
Daynodspolitelyinreturn,histensenessunmistakable.“Thankyou,”hesayswarily.“ThedoctorstellmethatI’vebeenoutforfivemonths.Whathappened?”
“YouwereinjuredduringabattlebetweentheRepublicandtheColonies,”Ireply.EverythingI’msayingsoundslikeit’scomingfromsomeoneelse’smouth.“YousavedyourbrotherEden.”
“IsEdenhere?”Day’seyeslightupwithrecognition,andabeautifulsmileblossomsonhisface.ThesightofitbringsmepainevenasIamhappythatheremembershisbrother.Iwantsomuchtoseethatlookoffamiliarityonhisfacewhenhe’stalkingaboutme.
“Edenwillbesohappytoseeyou.Thedoctorsaresendingforhim,sohe’llarriveshortly.”Ireturnhissmile,andthistimeit’sagenuineone,ifbittersweet.WhenDaystudiesmyfaceagain,Iclosemyeyesandbowslightlytohim.
It’stimetoletgo.“Day,”Isay,carefullychoosingwhatmyfinalwordstohimshouldbe.“It
hasbeensuchaprivilegeandhonortofightbyyourside.You’vesavedmanymoreofusthanyou’lleverknow.”Forasmallmoment,Ifixmyeyesonhis,tellinghimsilentlyeverythingthatI’llneversaytohimaloud.“Thankyou,”Iwhisper.“Foreverything.”
Daylookspuzzledbytheemotioninmyvoice,buthebowshisheadinreturn.“Thehonor’smine,”hereplies.Myheartbreaksinsorrowatthelackofwarmthinhisvoice,thewarmthIknowIwouldhaveheardhadherememberedeverything.IfeeltheabsenceoftheachinglovethatI’vecometoyearnfor,thatIwantedsomuchtoearn.Itisgonenow.
IfheknewwhoIwas,Iwouldsaysomethingelsetohimnow,somethingIshould’vesaidtohimmoreoftenwhenIhadthechance.NowIamsureofmyfeelings,andit’stoolate.SoIfoldthethreewordsbackintomyheart,forhissake,andrisefromhisbed.Isoakineverylast,wonderfuldetailofhisfaceandstoreitinmymemory,hopingIcantakehimwithmewhereverIgo.Weexchangequietsalutes.
ThenIturnawayforthelasttime.
***
Twoweekslater,whatfeelsliketheentirecityofLosAngelesturnsouttoseeDayleavethecountryforgood.OnthemorningIleftDay’sbedside,Antarcticacamecallingforbothhimandhisbrother.They’dtakennoteofEden’sgiftedtouchwithengineeringandofferedhimaplaceinoneoftheiracademies.Atthesametime,theyofferedDaythechancetogoalong.
Idon’tjointhecrowds.Istayinmyapartmentinstead,watchingtheeventsunfoldwhileOlliesleepscontentedlybesideme.Thestreetsaroundmycomplexareteemingwithpeople,alljostlingwithoneanothertowatchtheJumboTrons.TheirmuffledchaosturnsintowhitenoiseasIwatchitunfoldonmyscreen.
DANIELALTANWINGANDBROTHERTOLEAVETONIGHTFORROSSCITY,ANTARCTICA
That’swhattheheadlinessay.Onthescreen,DaywavesatthepeoplegatheredaroundhisapartmentasheandEdenareescortedtoajeepbyacitypatrol.IshouldcallhimDaniel,likethescreendoes.PerhapshetrulyisjustDanielnow,withnoneedforanaliasanymore.Ilookonasheletshisbrothergetintothevehicle,andthenfollows,lostcompletelyfromview.It’ssostrange,IthinktomyselfasmyhandmovesabsentlyacrossOllie’sfur.Notlongago,thecitypatrolswouldhavearrestedhimonsight.Now,he’sleavingtheRepublicastheirchampion,tobecelebratedandrememberedforalifetime.
Iturnthemonitoroff,thensitinthequietdarknessofmyapartment,savoringthesilence.Outsideonthestreets,peoplearestillchantinghisname.Theychantitdeepintothenight.
Whenthecommotionfinallydiesdown,Igetupfrommycouch.Ipullonmybootsandacoat,thenwrapathinscarfaroundmyneckandheadoutintothestreets.Myhairblowsinthebalmynightbreeze,wispscatchingnowandthenonmylashes.ForawhileIwanderthequietroadsonmyown.I’mnotsurewhereI’mgoing.MaybeI’mtryingtofindmywaybacktoDay.Butthat’sillogical.He’salreadygone,andhisabsenceleavesahollow,achingpaininmychest.Myeyeswaterfromthewind.
IwalkforanhourbeforeIfinallytakeashorttrainridetoLakesector.There,Istrollalongtheedgeofthewater,admiringthelightsofdowntownaswellasthenow-unused,unlitTrialstadium,ahauntingreminderofeventslonggone.Giantwaterwheelschurninthelake,therhythmoftheirmovement
settlingintoacomfortingbackgroundsymphony.Idon’tknowwhereI’mgoing.AllIknowisthat,inthismoment,LakesectorseemsmorelikehometomethanRubydoes.Here,I’mnotsoalone.Onthesestreets,IcanstillfeelthebeatingofDay’sheart.
Ibegintoretracemyoldsteps,pastthesamelakesidebuildingsandthesamecrumblinghomes,thestepsI’dtakenwhenIwasacompletelydifferentperson,fullofhateandconfusion,lossandignorance.It’sanoddfeelingtowanderthesesamestreetsasthepersonIamnow.Atoncefamiliarandstrange.
Anhourlater,Ipausealonebeforeanondescriptalleywaythatbranchesoffanemptystreet.Attheendofthisalley,anabandonedhigh-risetowerstwelvestoriesup,eachofitswindowsboardedupanditsfirstfloorjustthewayIrememberit,withmissingwindowsandbrokenglassonthefloor.Istepintotheshadowsofthebuilding,remembering.ThisiswhereDayhadfirstreachedhishandouttomeinthemidstofsmokeanddustandsavedmesolongago,beforeweevendiscoveredwhotheotherwas;thiswasthestartofthefewpreciousnightswhenwesimplykneweachotherasaboyonthestreetsandagirlwhoneededhelp.
Thememorycomesintosharpfocus.There’savoicetellingmetogetup.WhenIlooktomyside,Iseeaboy
holdingouthishandtome.Hehasbrightblueeyes,dirtonhisface,andabeat-upoldcapon,andatthismoment,IthinkhemightbethemostbeautifulboyI’veeverseen.
Mywanderinghasledmetothebeginningofourjourneytogether.Isupposeit’sonlyfittingformetobehereatthatjourney’send.
Istandinthedarknessforalongtime,lettingmyselfsinkintothememoriesweonceshared.Thesilencewrapsmeincomfortingarms.OneofmyhandsreachesovertomysideandfindstheoldscarfromwhereKaedehadwoundedme.Somanymemories,somuchjoyandsadness.
Tearsstreamdownmyface.IwonderwhatDayisthinkingatthismomentwhileonhiswaytoaforeignland,andwhetherornotsomesmallpartofhim,evenifitisburieddeep,holdssliversofme,piecesofwhatweoncehad.
ThelongerIstandhere,thelightertheburdenonmyheartfeels.Daywillmoveonandlivehislife.SowillI.Wewillbeokay.Someday,perhapsinthefaranddistantfuture,we’llfindeachotheragain.Untilthen,Iwillrememberhim.Ireachouttotouchoneofthewalls,imaginingthatIcanfeelhislifeandwarmththroughit,andIlookaroundagain,uptowardtherooftopsandthenallthewaytothenightskywhereafewfaintstarscanbeseen,andthereIthinkIreallycan
seehim.Icanfeelhispresencehereineverystonehehastouched,everypersonhehasliftedup,everystreetandalleyandcitythathehaschangedinthefewyearsofhislife,becauseheistheRepublic,heisourlight,andIloveyou,Iloveyou,untilthedaywemeetagainIwillholdyouinmyheartandprotectyouthere,grievingwhatweneverhad,cherishingwhatwedid.Iwishyouwerehere.
Iloveyou,always.
LOSANGELES,CALIFORNIAREPUBLICOFAMERICA
TENYEARSLATER
1836HOURS,JULY11.BATALLASECTOR,LOSANGELES.78°F.
TODAYISMYTWENTY-SEVENTHBIRTHDAY.Icelebratemostofmybirthdayswithouttoomuchtrouble.Onmy
eighteenth,IjoinedAnden,acoupleofSenators,PascaoandTess,andseveralformerDrakeclassmatesforalow-keydinneratarooftoploungeinRubysector.MynineteenthhappenedonaboatinNewYorkCity,theColonies’rebuiltversionofanolddrownedcitywhoseoutskirtsnowslopegentlyintotheAtlanticOcean.I’dbeeninvitedtoapartythrownforseveralinternationaldelegatesfromAfrica,Canada,andMexico.Ispentmytwentiethcomfortablyalone,tuckedintobedwithOlliesnoringonmylap,watchingabriefnewscastabouthowDay’sbrotherEdenhadgraduatedearlyfromhisacademyinAntarctica,tryingtocatchaglimpseofhowDaylookedasatwenty-year-old,takinginthenewsthathehimselfhadbeenrecruitedbyAntarctica’sintelligenceagency.Mytwenty-firstbirthdaywasanelaborateaffairinVegas,whereAndeninvitedmetoasummerfestivalandthenendedupkissingmeinmyhotelroom.Twenty-second:thefirstbirthdayIcelebratedwithAndenasmyofficialboyfriend.Twenty-third:spentataninductionceremonythatplacedmeasthecommanderofallsquadronsinCalifornia,theyoungestleadcommanderinRepublichistory.Twenty-fourth:abirthdayspentwithoutOllie.Twenty-fifth:dinneranddancingwithAndenonboardtheRSConstellation.Twenty-sixth:spentwithPascaoandTessasItoldthemaboutbeingfreshlybrokenupfromAnden,howtheyoungElectorandIcametoamutualagreementthatIsimplycouldn’tlovehimthewayhewishedIwould.
Someoftheseyearswerespentinjoy,othersinsadness—butthesaddesteventswerealwaystolerable.Farworsethingshavehappened,andnothingtragicduringtheselateryearscouldcomparewiththeeventsfrommyteenage
years.Buttodayisdifferent.I’vebeendreadingthisparticularbirthdayforyears,becauseittakesmebacktosomeoftheeventsfrommypastthatI’vetriedsohardtokeepburied.
Ispendmostofthedayinafairlyquietmood.Iriseearly,followmyusualwarm-uproutinesatthetrack,andthenheadtoBatallasectortoorganizemycaptainsfortheirvariouscityoperations.TodayI’mleadingtwoofmybestpatrolstoescortAndenduringameetingwithColonies’delegates.Wemaynotsharethesameapartmentanymore,butthatdoesn’tchangehowfiercelyIwatchoverhissafety.HewillalwaysbemyElector,andIintendtokeepitthatway.Today,heandtheColoniesaredeepinthemiddleofdiscussionsaboutthesmoothimmigrationstatusalongourborder,wheretheUnitedCitieshaveturnedintoflourishingareaswithbothColoniesandRepubliccivilians.Whatwasonceaharddividinglinebetweenusnowlookslikeagradient.IlookonfromthesidelinesasAndenshakeshandswiththedelegatesandposesforphotos.I’mproudofwhathe’sdone.Slowsteps,butstepsnonetheless.Metiaswould’vebeenhappytoseeit.SowouldDay.
Whenlateafternooncomes,IfinallyleaveBatallaHallandheadtoasmooth,ivory-whitebuildingattheeastendofBatallaSquare.There,IshowmyIDattheentranceandmakemywayuptothebuilding’stwelfthfloor.Itracefamiliarstepsdownthehall,mybootsechoingagainstthemarblefloors,untilIstopinfrontofafour-square-inchtombstonemarkerwiththenameCAPTAINMETIASIPARISembeddedinitscrystal-clearsurface.
Istandthereforawhile,thensitcross-leggedbeforeitandbowmyhead.“Hi,Metias,”Isayinasoftvoice.“Today’smybirthday.DoyouknowhowoldIamnow?”
Iclosemyeyes,andthroughthesilencesurroundingmeIthinkIcansenseaghostlyhandonmyshoulder,mybrother’sgentlepresencethatI’mabletofeeleverynowandthen,inthesequietmoments.Iimaginehimsmilingdownatme,hisexpressionrelaxedandfree.
“I’mtwenty-seventoday,”Icontinueinawhisper.Myvoicecatchesforamoment.“We’rethesameagenow.”
Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Iamnolongerhislittlesister.NextyearIwillstepacrossthelineandhewillstillbeinthesameplace.Fromnowon,Iwillbeolderthanheeverwas.
Itrytomoveontootherthoughts,soItellmybrother’sghostaboutmyyear,mystrugglesandsuccessesincommandingmyownpatrols,myhecticworkweeks.Itellhim,asIalwaysdo,thatImisshim.Andasalways,Icanhear
thewhisperofhisghostagainstmyear,hisgentlereplythathemissesmetoo.Thathe’slookingoutforme,fromwhereverheis.
Anhourlater,whenthesunhasfinallysetandthelightstreaminginfromthewindowsfadesaway,Irisefrommypositionandslowlymakemywayoutofthebuilding.Ilistentosomemissedmessagesonmyearpiece.Tessshouldbeleavingherhospitalshiftsoon,mostlikelyarmedwithaslewofnewstoriesaboutherpatients.InthefirstyearsafterDayleft,thetwoofthemstayedinclosecontact,andTesswouldkeepmeconstantlyupdatedabouthowhewasdoing.ThingslikeEden’simprovingeyesight.Day’snewjob.Antarcticangames.Butastheyearswenton,theirchattergrewlessfrequent,Tessgrewupandintoherownlife,andgradually,theirconversationsdwindledtobriefannualgreetings.Sometimesnoneatall.
I’dbelyingifIsaidIdidn’tmissherstoriesaboutDay.Butstill,IfindmyselflookingforwardtosomedinnerchatterwithherandPascao,whoshouldbeheadingoverfromDrakeUniversity,probablyeagertosharehislatestadventuresintrainingcadets.IsmileasIthinkaboutwhattheymightsay.Myheartfeelslighternow,alittlefreeraftermyconversationwithmybrother.MythoughtswanderbrieflytoDay.Iwonderwhereheis,whohe’swith,whetherhe’shappy.
Ireally,sincerely,deeplyhopethatheis.Thesectorisn’tbusytonight(wehaven’tneededasmanystreetpoliceinthe
lastfewyears),andasidefromafewsoldiershereandthere,I’malone.Mostofthestreetlightshaven’tturnedonyet,andinthegatheringdarknessIcanseeahandfulofstarsflickeringoverhead.TheglowfromJumboTronscastsakaleidoscopeofcolorsacrossthegraypavementofBatallasector,andIcatchmyselfwalkingdeliberatelyunderneaththem,holdingahandouttostudythecolorsthatdanceacrossmyskin.Iwatchsnippetsofnewsonthescreenswithmilddisinterestwhileskimmingthroughmymissedmessages.Theepaulettesonmyshouldersclinksoftly.
ThenIpauseonamessageTesshadleftmeearlierintheafternoon.Hervoicefillsmyears,fullofwarmthandplayfulness.
“Hey.Checkthenews.”That’sallshesays.Ifrown,thenlaughalittleatTess’sgame.What’sgoing
oninthenews?Myeyesreturntothescreens,thistimewithmorecuriosity.Noneofitcatchesmyeye.Ikeepsearching,lookingforwhatTessmighthavebeentalkingabout.Stillnothing.Then...onesmall,nondescriptheadline,sobriefthatImusthavebeenskippingoveritallday.Iblink,asifImighthave
misunderstoodit,andreaditagainbeforeitcyclesout.
EDENBATAARWINGINLOSANGELESTOINTERVIEWFORBATALLAENGINEERINGPOSITION
Eden?Arippleglidesacrossthesilencethathasstilledmeallday.IreadtheheadlineoverandoveragainbeforeIfinallyconvincemyselfthattheyareindeedtalkingaboutDay’syoungerbrother.Edenisheretointerviewforapotentialjob.
HeandDayareintown.Ilookaroundthestreetsinstinctively.They’rehere,walkingthesamestreets.
He’shere.Ishakemyheadatthelittleadolescentgirlwhohassuddenlywokenupinmyheart.Evenafterallthistime,Ihope.Calmdown,June.Butstill,myheartsitsinmythroat.Tess’smessageechoesinmymind.Ireturntowalkingdownthestreet.MaybeIcanfindoutwherethey’restaying,justgetaglimpseofhowhe’sdoingafterallthistime.IdecidetocallTessbackonceI’vereachedthetrainstation.
Fifteenminuteslater,I’mattheoutskirtsofBatallasector;thetrainstationleadingtoRubyappearsaroundthecorner.Thedarknesshaslengthenedenoughforthestreetlightstoturnon,andafewsoldiersareheadingdowntheoppositesidewalk;asidefromthem,I’mtheonlyoneonthisblock.
ButwhenIreachaslightcurveinthestreet,Iseetwootherpeopleheadedinmydirection.Istopinmytracks.ThenIfrownandpeercloseratthestreetbeforeme.I’mstillnotsureofwhatI’mseeing.
Apairofyoungmen.Detailsflitautomaticallythroughmymind,sofamiliarnowthatIhardlythinktwiceaboutthem.Botharetallandlean,withpaleblondhairthatstandsoutinthedimlylitnight.InstantlyIknowthattheymustberelated,withtheirsimilarfeaturesandeasygaits.Theoneontheleftwearsglassesandistalkinganimatedly,brushinggoldencurlsoutofhiseyesashegoes,hishandspaintingsomesortofdiagraminfrontofhim.Hekeepsrollinghissleevesbackuptohiselbows,andhiscollarshirtislooseandrumpled.Acarefreesmilelightsuphisface.
Theyoungmanontherightseemsmorereserved,listeningpatientlytohiscurly-hairedcompanionwhilehekeepshishandstuckedcasuallyinhispockets.Asmallgrintouchesthecornersofhislips.HishairisdifferentfromwhatIremember,nowshortandendearinglyunruly,andashewalksheoccasionallyrunsahandthroughit,leavingitevenmorewayward.Hiseyesareasblueas
ever.Eventhoughhe’soldernow,withthefaceofayoungmaninsteadoftheteenagerI’dknownsowell,hestillshowshintsofthatoldfirewheneverhelaughsathisbrother’swords,momentsofstartlingbrightnessandlife.
Myheartbeginstobeat,cuttingthroughtheheavinessthatweighsonmychest.DayandEden.
Ikeepmyheaddownastheydrawcloser.Butfromthecornerofmyvision,IseeEdennoticemefirst.Hepausesforasecondinthemiddleofhissentence,andaquicksmileappearsonhisface.Hiseyesflickertohisbrother.
Daycastsmealook.Theintensityofitcatchesmeoffguard—Ihaven’tbeensubjectedtohisgaze
insolongthatsuddenlyIcan’tcatchmybreath.Istraightenandquickenmypace.Ineedtogetoutofhere.Otherwise,I’mnotsurewhetherIcankeepmyemotionsfromspillingontomyface.
Wepasseachotherwithoutaword.Mylungsfeelliketheymightburst,andItakeafewquickbreathstosteadymyself.Iclosemyeyes.AllIcanhearistherushofbloodinmyears,thesteadythumpingofmyheart.GraduallyIhearthesoundoftheirfootstepsfadebehindme.Asinkingfeelingslowlysettles.Iswallowhard,forcingafloodofmemoriesoutofmymind.
I’mheadingtowardthetrainstation.I’mgoinghome.I’mnotgoingtolookback.
Ican’t.Then...Ihearfootstepsbehindmeagain.Hurriedbootsagainstpavement.I
pause,steelmyself,andlookovermyshoulder.It’sDay.Hecatchesuptome.Somedistancebehindhim,Edenwaitswith
hishandsinhispockets.Daystaresintomyeyeswithasoft,puzzledexpression—itsendsanelectricshiverdownmyspine.“Excuseme,”hesays.Oh,thatvoice.Deeper,gentlerthanIremember,withouttherawnessofchildhoodandwiththeneweleganceofanadult.“Havewemetbefore?”
Foramoment,I’matalossforwords.WhatdoIsay?I’vespentsomanyyearsconvincingmyselfthatwenolongerknoweachother.“No,”Iwhisper.“Sorry.”Inmymind,Ibegmyselftotellhimotherwise.
Dayfrowns,confusedforamoment.Herunshishandthroughhishair.Inthatgesture,Icatchaglimpseofsomethingshinyonhisfinger.It’saringmadeoutofwires.Ofpaperclips.Abreathescapesmeinshock.
HeisstillwearingthepaperclipringI’doncegivenhim.“Oh,”hefinallyreplies.“I’msorrytobotheryou,then.Ijust...Youlook
reallyfamiliar.Areyousurewedon’tknoweachotherfromsomewhere?”
Isearchhiseyesinsilence.Ican’tsayanything.Thereisasecretemotionemergingonhisfacenow,somewherebetweenstrangenessandfamiliarity,somethingthattellsmehe’sstrugglingtoplaceme,tofindwhereIbelong.Myheartprotests,reachingoutforhimtodiscoverit.Still,nowordscomeout.
Daysearchesmyfacewithhissoftgaze.Thenheshakeshishead.“Ihaveknownyou,”hemurmurs.“Alongtimeago.Idon’tknowwhere,butIthinkIknowwhy.”
“Why,then?”Iaskgently.He’squietforamoment.Thenhetakesastepcloser,closeenoughformeto
seethattinyrippleofimperfectioninhislefteye.Helaughsalittle,pinkcreepingontohischeeks.“I’msorry.Thisisgoingtosoundsostrange.”IfeellikeI’mlostinahaze.LikethisisadreamIdon’tdarewakefrom.“I...,”hebegins,asiflookingfortherightwords.“I’vebeensearchingalongtimeforsomethingIthinkIlost.”
Somethinghelost.Thewordsbringalumptomythroat,asuddensurgeofwildhope.“It’snotstrangeatall,”Ihearmyselfreply.
Daysmilesinreturn.Somethingsweetandyearningappearsinhiseyes.“IfeltlikeIfoundsomethingwhenIsawyoubackthere.Areyousure...doyouknowme?DoIknowyou?”
Idon’tknowwhattosay.Thepartofmethathadoncedecidedtostepoutofhislifetellsmetodoitagain,toprotecthimfromthisknowledgethathadhurthimsolongago.Tenyears...hasitreallybeenthatlong?Theotherpartofme,thegirlwhohadfirstmethimonthestreets,urgesmetotellhimthetruth.Finally,whenIdomanagetoopenmymouth,Isay,“Ihavetogomeetupwithsomefriends.”
“Oh.Sorry.”Dayclearshisthroat,unsureofhimself.“Idotoo,actually.AnoldfrienddowninRuby.”
AnoldfrienddowninRuby.Myeyeswiden.SuddenlyIknowwhyTesssoundedsomischievousonhermessage,whyshetoldmetowatchthenewstonight.“Isyourfriend’snameTess?”Iaskhesitantly.
It’sDay’sturntolooksurprised.Hegivesmeanintrigued,puzzledsmile.“Youknowher.”
WhatamIdoing?What’shappening?Thisreallyisalladream,andI’mterrifiedtowakeupfromit.I’vehadthisdreamtoomanytimes.Idon’twantittakenawayagain.“Yes,”Imurmur.“I’mhavingdinnerwithhertonight.”
Westareateachotherinsilence.Day’sfaceisseriousnow,andhisgazeissointensethatIcanfeelwarmthrunningthrougheveryinchofmybody.We
standtogetherlikethisforalong,longmoment,andforonce,Ihavenoideahowmuchtimehaspassed.“Idoremember,”hefinallysays.Isearchhiseyesforthatsameachingsadness,thetormentandanguishthathadalwaysbeentherewheneverweweretogether.ButIcannolongerseeit.Instead,Ifindsomethingelse...Iseeahealedwound,apermanentscarthathasneverthelessclosed,somethingfromachapterofhislifethathehasfinally,afteralltheseyears,madepeacewith.Isee...Canitbepossible?Canthisbetrue?
Iseepiecesofmemoriesinhiseyes.Piecesofus.Theyarebroken,andscattered,buttheyarethere,graduallycomingtogetheragainatthesightofme.Theyarethere.
“It’syou,”hewhispers.Thereiswonderinhisvoice.“Isit?”Iwhisperback,myvoicetremblingwithalltheemotionsI’vekept
hiddenforsolong.Dayissoclose,andhiseyesaresobright.“Ihope,”herepliessoftly,“toget
toknowyouagain.Ifyouareopentoit.ThereisafogaroundyouthatIwouldliketoclearaway.”
Hisscarswillneverfade.Iamcertainofthatmuch.Butperhaps...perhaps...withtime,withage,wecanbefriendsagain.Wecanheal.Perhapswecanreturntothatsameplaceweoncestood,whenwewerebothyoungandinnocent.Perhapswereallycanmeetlikeotherpeopledo,onsomestreetonebalmyevening,whereweeachcatchtheother’seyeandstoptointroduceourselves.EchoesofDay’soldwishcomebacktomenow,emergingfromthemistofourearlydays.
Perhapsthereissuchathingasfate.StillIwait,toounsureofmyselftoanswer.Icannottakethefirststep.I
shouldn’t.Thatstepbelongstohim.Foramoment,Ithinkitwon’thappen.ThenDayreachesoutandtouchesmyhandwithhis.Heenclosesitina
handshake.Andjustlikethat,Iamlinkedwithhimagain,Ifeelthepulseofourbondandhistoryandlovethroughourhands,likeawaveofmagic,thereturnofalong-lostfriend.Ofsomethingmeanttobe.Thefeelingbringstearstomyeyes.Perhapswecantakeastepforwardtogether.
“Hi,”hesays.“I’mDaniel.”“Hi,”Ireply.“I’mJune.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Theendofthepathisastrangeandwistfulplace.Forthepastfewyears,I’vebreathedtheworldofLegend;mylifebecamethelivesofDayandJune,andthroughthemIsawmyownfears,hopes,andaspirationsplayoutacrosstheircanvas.NowI’vereachedthepointwhereourstoriesdiverge.Theyareofftolivebeyondtheconfinesofthetrilogy;Iamleftwavingtothemfromthesidelines.Idon’tknowwherethey’llgo,butIthinkthey’regoingtobeokay.
I’mnotaloneonthesidelines,ofcourse.WithmearethoseIstartedwithandthoseImetalongtheway:
Myinimitableliteraryagent,KristinNelson,andTeamNLA:AnitaMumm,SaraMegibow,LoriBennett,andAngieHodapp.Thankyou,thankyou,thankyouforstandingwithmeoneveryhill.
Myamazingeditors,JenBesser,AriLewin,andShaunaFayRossano,whovanquishedmyBook3demonswithstalwartbattlecries.Wemadeit!Idon’tknowwhatI’ddowithoutyou.Loveyouladies.
TeamPutnamChildren’s,TeamSpeak,andTeamPenguin:DonWeisberg,JenniferLoja,MarisaRussell,LauraAntonacci,AnnaJarzab,JessicaSchoffel,ElyseMarshall,JillBailey,ScottieBowditch,LoriThorn,LindaMcCarthy,ErinDempsey,ShantaNewlin,EmilyRomero,ErinGallagher,MiaGarcia,LisaKelly,CourtneyWood,MarieKent,SaraOrtiz,ElizabethZajac,KristinGilson,andEileenKreit.Youguysarethemostepicteamsagirlcouldhaveonherside.
TheincrediblepeopleatCBSFilms,TempleHill,UTA,andALF&L:WolfgangHammer,GreyMunford,MattGilhooley,AllyMielnicki,IsaacKlausner,WyckGodfrey,MartyBowen,GinaMartinez,WayneAlexander,andmyfabulousfilmagent,KassieEvashevski.Thankyouallforcontinuingtobelieveinthiswriter’sdreams.
WickedSweetGames:MattSherwood,PhilHarvey,KoleHicks,BobbyHernandez,andofcourse,theElectorPrimo.CitiesofLegendisagamefullofbadassery,becauseyouguysarebadass.
MyincredibleforeignpublishersfortakingLegendaboveandbeyond,andsometimesevenstraighttoPasadenawithfansintow!(I’mlookingatyou,marvelousRuth.)
Myirreplaceablewriterfriends:JJ,Ello,Andrea,Beth,JessSpotswood,Jess
Khoury,Leigh,Sandy,Amie,Ridley,Kami,Margie,Tahereh,Ransom,Cindy,Malinda,andthefabulousPubCrawlladies.Findingone’stribeisapreciousthing.Icannotproperlyexpresswhatyouallmeantome.Thankyouforyourfriendship.
Thefambam,myfriends,Andre,myauntanduncle,mywonderfulfiancé,andmostofall,mymom.Youarealwaysthere,nomatterwhat.Loveyou.
Finally,Ineedtogiveaspecialacknowledgmentattheendofthispath:Tomyreaders.ItisbecauseofyouthatIcancontinuetodowhatIlove.Iam
sograteful.Tomyyoungreaders,inparticular:thebooksIreadasachildoccupyaprotected,goldenspaceinmyheart.ItisadeeplyhumblingthoughtthatLegendmighthavetheprivilegeofsittinginthatgoldenspaceinsomeofyourhearts.Iamsotouchedbythee-mailsandlettersthatyouallhavesentovertheyears.Youarearemarkablegenerationofyoungpeople,andyouareallgoingtodoamazingthingswithyourlives.
Thankyouforthehonoroftellingyoustories.