"A bullet scraped me."

"A bunch of fools," he replies.

"A fake death—a claim that John’s infected with the plague. If I can help him escape from Batalla Hall tomorrow night, I’ll need you and a couple of Patriots to get him out of the sector. Keep him safe."

"A family I know had their door marked recently."

"A foolish attempt," she says.

"A good boy, that Metias was. A great apprentice. Imagine my disappointment when he was reassigned to the city patrols. He told me he just didn’t have the smarts to judge the Trials or organize the kids who finished taking them. Such a modest one. Always smarter than he thought he was—just like you." He grins at me.

"A lamp’s lit. Look at those candles. Mom would never waste candles if no one was home."

"A lie like that is treason against the Republic. Besides, why would Congress authorize such a thing?"

"A little sleep will do you good."

"A perfect score . . . hah. I don’t know anyone who’s ever gotten a fifteen hundred."

"A pity you chose the life of a criminal. You could have become a celebrity in your own right, you know, with a face like that. Free plague vaccinations every year. Wouldn’t that have been nice?"

"A pleasure to meet you, young sir. Tell me, Mr. Graham, why did the Colonies send you over to our fine Republic? To spread their lies?"

"A pleasure," I reply, unsure of what else to say.

"A poor choice for a hero," Thomas goes on.

"A www. Is that what’s got you down? I’ve seen the way you look at her. You want her bad, yeah? Is that something you’re also trying to earn your way up to, trot? Hate to burst your bubble, but I didn’t force her into anything."

"About all of it."

"According to the Republic’s databases," she goes on, "Daniel Altan Wing died five years ago from smallpox, in one of our labor camps."

"After the first eruptions," he said, "white volcanic ash rained from the sky for months. The dead and dying were covered in it. So now to wear white is to remember the dead."

"Agent Iparis! Tonight is your night. You’re a star! I tell you, my dear, everyone in the higher circles is talking about your prodigious performance. Especially your commander—she’s gushing about you like you’re her daughter. Congratulations on your agent promotion and that nice little reward. Two hundred thousand Notes should buy you a dozen elegant dresses."

"Agent Iparis, head this up. Check on him now and then and make sure he doesn’t die before his execution date."

"Agent Iparis," he says.

"Ah, Captain!" she exclaims.

"Ah, that’s right," she says, as if it is the first time she’s heard it.

"Ah, there’s the announcement now." Thomas glances back to the movie screen and points at the commercial that comes on.

"All right," Kaede says.

"All right. We’ll go to the warfront and find out where Eden is, then cross the border. The Colonies will probably welcome us—maybe even help us."

"Almost enough for cures. How’s Eden?"

"Almost there," he says.

"Am I all right?" she says.

"An electro-bomb’s gone missing." The dangling lights overhead cast mean shadows across his face.

"An impressive effort tonight. You are truly as agile as Agent Iparis claimed. I hate seeing such talents wasted on worthless criminals, but life isn’t very fair, is it?" She smiles at me.

"And I don’t know why. That’s the worst part, Day. I don’t know why he died. Why would someone want him dead?"

"And I hope to hell you’re right."

"And I know you won’t leave your family to die."

"And Tess is safe? No one’s arrested her?"

"And apparently, so were you."

"And cut those too."

"And does everyone around here know how to make a dust bomb?"

"And forty-four seconds. How do you like that?"

"And there’s more where that came from. But I need you to listen to me, and I don’t have much time."

"And they’ve pitted us against each other."

"And to think you were forced to spend so much time in his company. I’m amazed he didn’t kill you in your sleep. I’m—" Thomas pauses, then decides against finishing his sentence.

"And what about your old knee injury?"

"And why?"

"And?" I say.

"Answer the question, June."

"Any final requests? If you wish a last look at your brother or a last prayer, you’d better let us know now. It’s the only privilege you’ll get before you die."

"Any listening devices?"

"Any luck today?"

"Are they both alive?"

"Are you all right? It’s almost ten hundred hours, and I haven’t seen you. Commander Jameson wants to know where you are."

"Are you all right?"

"Are you all right?" I ask.

"Are you all right?" I remember asking him.

"Are you cooking a chicken in there?" he says.

"Are you going to help me?"

"Are you going to help me?" I ask again.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I run my hands down her other arm, then gently touch her waist and her legs.

"Are you sure?" Thomas sounds more alert now.

"Are you there, Iparis?" It’s Commander Jameson.

"As do you." As we settle down to watch the stands, I make some notes to myself.

"As soon as the rain stops," he says, "I want to head out toward Vegas. I want to find Tess and make sure she’s safe with the Patriots before we move on to the warfront to find Eden. I can’t just leave her behind. I have to know that she’s better off with them than with us." It’s as if he’s trying to convince me that this is the right thing to do.

"At least Day’s good for something." His hair is carefully combed back, and he looks taller than usual in a flawless, tasseled captain’s uniform.

"At least we got ourselves another medic in the Patriots now." She pats her cast and winks at Tess.

"At the hands of that nasty boy. What a shame!" Chian narrows his eyes, making his eyebrows look even bushier.

"Be careful," I murmur.

"Be quick about it."

"Because today the plague patrol is coming for your family. They’re taking them away."

"Because you were right," she whispers.

"Before floods, before thousands of data centers were wiped out." He would let out a mock sigh, then wink at me.

"Believe me when I say I would love to stay and chat with you, but I have a training session to lead. There’s also a person much more eager to see you than I am. I’ll let her take it from here." The commander exits without another word.

"Believe what you want."

"Best place might be somewhere obvious to everyone. Give it to one of the boys, maybe as a locket. People will think it’s just a child’s ornament. But if soldiers find it in the house in a raid, hidden under some floorboard, they’ll know for sure that it’s important."

"Better than expected."

"Bite your tongue, cousin. Haven’t you had enough brushes with death for one day?"

"Breathe in for me." I do as she says.

"But I did find it strange that you spent so much time questioning Day. Do you feel sorry for him now? Did you set something up to—"

"But I don’t really have much choice."

"But I have to say I am looking forward to it. Do you know the details about how it’ll go?"

"But I thought it was quite a coincidence. Few people have access down here, and everyone else was more or less accounted for last night."

"But I’d rather not wake her."

"But he gave me clues."

"But it’s Commander Jameson." I blinked through swollen eyes.

"But that doesn’t mean we won’t find his body later."

"But the Republic must know by now that they made a mistake. You have to run, Day. While you can."

"But they might know something about Day."

"But think of it this way. You can walk away right now, with two hundred thousand Notes and a rather handy weapon, and never lift a finger to help me. I’m putting my trust in you and in the Patriots. I’m begging you to put your trust in me."

"But we can’t destroy it. We have to safeguard it—for all we know, this might be the last coin of its kind in the world." He folded my mother’s fingers over the coin.

"But you won’t. I can see it on your face."

"But you’re a fool to stay with someone like me."

"But you’re right—it might be enough to convince my boss to let me help you out. But how can we be sure this isn’t a trap? You sold Day to the Republic. What if you’re lying to me too?"

"Bye, Thomas. Thanks for the ride." I smile back at him before stepping out of the jeep.

"Calling it a night," I murmur.

"Can I ask you a question now?" Day asks.

"Can I be admitted, cousin?" I call to her.

"Can I help you get home?"

"Can you hear me?" she says.

"Can you repeat that, Ms. Iparis?"

"Can’t let your stolen goods go to waste, can I?"

"Captain Metias Iparis is outside the gate," a voice replies.

"Captain says he’ll arrive shortly."

"Cheer up, Thomas." Metias reaches over and claps him on the back.

"Chian has a personal grudge against Day," he whispers.

"Choose! Choose! Choose!"

"Choose! Choose!"

"Come here, boy." He sighs, then envelops me in a hug.

"Come on, Captain," he says.

"Come on, June," he said.

"Come on, let’s follow him!" Tess exclaims.

"Come on," I said.

"Come on," he urges.

"Come on. You’re going to get a girlfriend someday."

"Come out," I say.

"Commander Jameson asked me to detain you," he says.

"Commander Jameson has requested that you come with me to the hospital as soon as possible." Thomas hesitates for a second.

"Commander Jameson says to keep you on your mission if your injury isn’t bothering you too much. She’s preoccupied with the patrol right now. But I’m warning you. If your mike goes dark again for more than a few hours, I’m going to send soldiers after you—whether or not it blows your cover. Understand?"

"Commander Jameson suggested it, and she got the courts to approve it. I think she’s still pretty mad about how hard Day bit her hand when he tried to escape."

"Commander Jameson," he says, "are you ready for him to proceed to sentencing?"

"Commander Jameson’s here to see the prisoner." The prisoner.

"Commander, don’t!" I blurt out, but she ignores me.

"Commander?"

"Congratulations, June." He smiles.

"Connect the two circuits," he murmurs.

"Consider this a pop quiz. This soldier’s identity should motivate you to get it right."

"Cop her."

"Corner of Figueroa and Watson. That’s the special plague case we’re meant to investigate tomorrow morning. You’re sure it’s Day?" he asks again.

"Create chaos in Batalla Square, as much chaos as you can manage. Enough chaos to force most of the soldiers guarding the back exits to enter the square and help contain the crowd—if only for a couple of minutes. That’s what the electro-bomb might help you with. Set it off in the air, and it’ll shake up the ground in Batalla Hall and around it. It shouldn’t hurt anyone, but it’ll definitely stir up some panic. And if the guns in the vicinity are disabled, they can’t shoot at Day even if they see him escaping along a rooftop. They’ll have to chase him or try their luck with less accurate stun guns."

"Damn it, June," he says.

"Damn it," Day says under his breath.

"Daniel is dead," I reply.

"Daniel?" Her fingers brush the hair from my eyes.

"Daniel?" she whispers.

"Day . . . it didn’t go according to my plan. I wanted to get both of you out. I could have done it. But . . ."

"Day can’t hide from the government forever—sooner or later we’ll dig that street brat out and make an example out of him. He’s no match for you, especially when you put your mind to something."

"Day doesn’t seem like the kind of boy who goes around saving people."

"Day is just a criminal on death row. His words shouldn’t matter to a girl of your standing."

"Day may be a popular figure out here on the streets, but he’s still one guy. What’s in it for us? Just the joy of getting him on board? The Patriots aren’t going to risk a dozen lives just to free a single criminal. It’s inefficient."

"Day will be dead in less than a week."

"Day, can you say, honestly and truly . . . that you didn’t kill Metias?"

"Day," Tess whispers.

"Day."

"Day." Her voice echoes down the street.

"Day’s heading toward Figueroa and Watson right now. I’m on his tail."

"Delicious," he says.

"Despite your reflexes."

"Did he say who’s sick? Is it Eden? Mom?"

"Did you assault a cadet standing guard at the edge of the Alta sector’s quarantine zone?"

"Did you find anything yet?"

"Did you hear something?" she whispers.

"Did you hear that Day’s sick brother, the little one, tried to spit on Commander Jameson yesterday? Tried to infect her with whatever mutated plague he’s carrying?"

"Did you set fire to a series of ten F-472 fighter jets parked at the Burbank air force base right before they were to head out to the warfront?"

"Didn’t want to completely crush your ego."

"Dismissed," the Elector calls as he goes.

"Diversion." My eyes lock onto Kaede’s.

"Do you know anything about Tess yet? If she’s alive?"

"Do you know what he’s been telling people?"

"Do you know where Eden is?" John finally breaks the silence.

"Does she honestly think we can guard anything after pulling an all-nighter? I was so out of it today that the Colonies’ Chancellor himself could’ve walked into Batalla Hall and I wouldn’t have known it."

"Doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t I be in your position? Isn’t that the point of your precious Trial?" Day looks like he wants to stop, hesitates, and then continues.

"Doesn’t seem like a fair fight," she calls out.

"Don’t be so suspicious. He had a son who worked at the warfront. He died of the plague a few years ago." I yelp when Tess ties a finishing knot on the bandage.

"Don’t be stupid, Junebug. Of course Mom took care of you. And she was much better at it than I am."

"Don’t be stupid. If the soldiers catch you, you’ll all die. You know that." John’s frustrated expression makes me feel guilty for dismissing his help so quickly.

"Don’t bother, Thomas." I reach out and touch his arm, to distract him.

"Don’t call people that, Junebug. It’s rude. And she can’t kick me off her patrol for missing the ceremony. Besides," he added with a wink, "I can always hack into their database and wipe my record clean."

"Don’t ever do that again, you hear me? Don’t you dare."

"Don’t go back out there. It’s too dangerous."

"Don’t go out alone. News from the warfront is they’re cutting power to residences tonight to save energy for the airfield bases. So stay put, okay? The streets’ll be darker than usual."

"Don’t know if that’s what you wanted to hear."

"Don’t question it. You don’t have time for that." I hesitate.

"Don’t try it again," she says, "because you won’t be able to do it alone. You’ll need my help."

"Don’t worry," she says.

"Drop your weapons."

"Duck." I release my grip and shove him hard enough to make him fall to his knees.

"EAT SOMETHING, YEAH?"

"Each day means a new twenty-four hours. Each day means everything’s possible again. You live in the moment, you die in the moment, you take it all one day at a time." He looks toward the railway car’s open door, where streaks of dark water blanket the world.

"East, maybe. I’m more used to the inner sectors."

"Easy, there."

"Eden always gets sick, you know," I say after a while.

"Eden first," Mom whispers.

"Eden is dead," she says.

"Eden will be okay. Maybe this virus is less dangerous and he’ll recover on his own." There’s a pause.

"Elector’s Waltz," I murmur, recognizing the song.

"Emerson Adam Graham."

"Emerson what? Be specific."

"Emerson."

"Ever seen something like this?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even.

"Everyone out. I want a private word with the prisoner." She nods up at the security cameras positioned in each corner.

"Everyone will keep an eye on you," he reassures me.

"Everything is in place, Iparis," the commander replies.

"Everything working?"

"Exciting, don’t you think?"

"Execute him! Kill him now! Make sure the square broadcasts it!"

"Executioners."

"Fair enough."

"Fair enough." And with that, he leans his head back against the wall, sighs, and closes his eyes.

"Fantastic."

"Fetch me what you have. And see if you can raise a better brat."

"Few people ever kill for the right reasons, June," he said after a long silence.

"Fifteen."

"Fine Republic," he snaps.

"Fine."

"Fire at will!" he shouts.

"First things first. Day’s brother John. I plan to help him escape tomorrow night. No earlier than eleven P.M., no later than eleven thirty." Kaede gives me an incredulous look, but I ignore her.

"First your parents, and now your brother. I can’t imagine how hard it is for you."

"Five minutes. Say what you want and be done with it." I nod wordlessly.

"Follow Thomas down to the lobby, and I’ll meet you there."

"Follow me, Agent Iparis. And you too, Captain," Chian instructs.

"Follow me. And please gag him, if you don’t mind. We wouldn’t want him yelling obscenities the whole time, would we?" The soldier salutes again, then stuffs a cloth into my mouth.

"For John. An early birthday gift." My older brother turns nineteen later this week.

"For figuring out that the Republic killed your parents? And Day’s been framed?"

"For once, Iparis," she’d said, "do what you’re told and don’t question it." Then she added something about a surprise, the unexpected appearance of someone I care very much about.

"For once, I’d appreciate it if you would let me do my daily tours of duty without worrying myself sick over what you’re up to."

"For the moment. I’m glad to see you’re okay too. What are you doing here?"

"Forever and ever, kid, until you’re sick and tired of seeing me."

"Form up," she says.

"Found it missing in the early morning after I went knocking on your apartment door. You said you were up on the roof last night, right? Do you know anything about this?"

"Four forty-five P.M.," she says.

"Fourteen floors," I call back.

"Freeze. Stay where you are."

"From here, the sewers will take him deeper into the city or west to the ocean. He’ll choose the city—he’s probably too wounded to do otherwise. But it’s impossible to track him accurately now. If he has any sense, he’ll have taken half a dozen turns down there and done it in the sewer water too. He wouldn’t have touched the walls. He’ll give us nothing to track."

"GET ON YOUR FEET. IT’S TIME."

"Get back here!" one of them yells.

"Get him!" Commander Jameson yells out.

"Get this boy off the gurney and put him in some chains," she barks.

"Get up." He grabs one of my arms and pulls me roughly to my feet.

"Girl," he says, looking at Tess, "do you think he can leave by tomorrow night?"

"Glad to hear it," I say, looking sideways at Tess.

"Go to your induction. I’ll be sick either way."

"Going dark." I click my microphone off.

"Good morning, Day," she says.

"Good night, Ms. Iparis." He hurries away down the hall before I can respond.

"Good to find another person who knows what a Canto knot is. But I travel a lot, my friend. I see and know a lot of people, people who I might not be affiliated with."

"Good to know the flood warnings are still in place."

"Good to know," I said.

"Good. I’m glad to hear it."

"Good. Now, Day is obviously going to be trickier. His execution happens two evenings from now, at exactly six P.M. Ten minutes before that, I’ll be the first person leading him to the firing squad yard. I have a secure access ID—I should be able to get Day out through one of the east hall’s six back exits. Have some Patriots wait for us there. I expect a crowd of at least two thousand to show up for the execution, which means a crew of at least eighty security guards. The back exits need to be as sparsely guarded as possible. Do something—anything—to make sure most of the soldiers have to go help there. If the first block past Batalla Hall doesn’t have a lot of security, you’ll have enough of a head start to escape."

"Good. Send him in." She releases the button and points a finger at me.

"Good." Commander Jameson addresses me one final time.

"Got a minor injury in a Skiz fight. Nothing serious."

"Got it," Thomas says, and his side falls silent.

"Got what approved?"

"Grace," he said to Mom, "look what I found."

"Great birthday."

"Guess you can go now."

"Hands up. You’re under arrest for theft, vandalism, and trespassing."

"Hardly. They’ve graduated you early. Follow me—there’s something I want you to see."

"Have some."

"He almost died once when he was a baby. He caught some kind of pox, and had fevers and rashes and cried nonstop for a week. The soldiers came close to marking our door. But it obviously wasn’t the plague, and no one else seemed to have it." I shake my head.

"He did."

"He didn’t mean it, sir," John repeats.

"He knew what he was doing, Day." Tears appear in her eyes, too.

"He left," I whisper.

"He likes to be acquainted with cute girls."

"He looks thinner," I mutter.

"He might need our help."

"He never mentioned this to me. Last night he—well, I’ll take it up with Commander Jameson."

"He said it was all classified," I lie.

"He shouldn’t have done it," I whisper.

"He was exposed to his brothers. That young one’s Patient Zero, isn’t he? Maybe the medics didn’t pick it up back then."

"Hear that, Ollie?" I whisper.

"Hell if I know what that means. Neither does anyone else, for that matter." She leans over the counter toward me and lowers her voice.

"Hello, Ms. Iparis," he says.

"Hello," she says.

"Here. Have some water. I’m not allowed to let you die yet." I dribble water on his lips.

"Here’s how it works, Mr. Wing. I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to give me an answer. Let’s start with an easy one. How old are you?"

"Hey!" I said.

"Hey," I called out to her.

"Hey," I said again, "mind if I join you?"

"Hey," I say, tugging his ear the way I did when I was a kid, "I’m sorry I made you worry."

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," he replies.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey." I remember something else now.

"He’ll have no time to get them out, so he’ll probably hide them somewhere in the house. We should take them to Batalla Hall’s hospital wing. No one’s to be hurt. I want them there for questioning."

"He’ll start cooperating if he knows what’s good for him."

"He’s alive and walking around," Tess replies.

"He’s also left-handed. Interesting. He’s ambidextrous."

"He’s awake, ma’am."

"He’s here for his sister."

"He’s lost more weight. But he’s still alert, and he recognizes us. I think he has a few more weeks."

"He’s talking about me," I agree.

"He’s telling people that he has plague cures for someone who needs it. He says he knows that you’re injured. He never gave a name, but he must be talking about you."

"He’s too smart for that," I say under my breath.

"He’s very perceptive, isn’t he?"

"Hide it somewhere." My father paused for a second, then looked at John and me.

"Hmm? Do what?"

"Hmm? Oh, I’m fine." Thomas runs a hand through his slicked hair.

"Hold steady, June. Pay attention to the crowd."

"Hold still! Damn it, boy, I’m not going to hurt you."

"Hold still," he mutters.

"Hollow?" I put my ear against the ice-cold metal.

"How about this one?"

"How about this?"

"How about you answer that question first?" she snaps.

"How are my boys?" my father said after he finally let go of Mom.

"How are my brothers?"

"How are you feeling, my dear?" he asks.

"How are you feeling?"

"How are you?"

"How did you escape the labor camps? How did you end up terrorizing Los Angeles when you should’ve been working for the Republic?"

"How did you get that thing in your eye?" I gesture at my own.

"How do they know we’re in the Lake sector?"

"How do you do that?" I ask her.

"How do you know?"

"How do you know?" I ask.

"How fast did you climb those fourteen stories?"

"How is Day? Is he okay?"

"How old are you?"

"How’s your wound healing, by the way?"

"Hurry up," Commander Jameson snaps at me.

"I SHOULD BE THE ONE GOING OUT THERE. NOT YOU."

"I am right."

"I am so sorry for your loss," they say.

"I assume you made someone angry," she says, then snaps her fingers at the soldiers.

"I can barely stay awake," Metias had told me after his first night shift.

"I can see silver Notes peeking out of that man’s purse, for example." She flicks her eyes toward one of the customers at a vendor.

"I can see why Drake labeled you a troublemaker," she says.

"I can see why you’ve survived on the streets."

"I can take care of myself. Day isn’t a fool—if I have a team following me through the city, he’ll notice it in no time."

"I can tell subtle differences between colors, even though they may look a little blurry," Tess replies.

"I can’t say. Much of it is confidential. But I do know that several generals from the warfront have come to see him."

"I congratulate you, my dear."

"I couldn’t find any cures, and I didn’t have time to do a search."

"I couldn’t help it. But at least now it’s over with."

"I couldn’t sleep. I went up to the roof for a while and watched the streets."

"I could’ve taken it. I’ll fight back."

"I did not kill your brother." I reach out to touch her hand and wince at the pain that shoots up my arm.

"I did see you visit your family’s quarantine zone last night, and I overheard some guards talking about today’s sweep. They mentioned the house with the three-lined X. Hurry. I’m trying to help you—and I’m telling you that you have to go to them right now."

"I did."

"I didn’t do it," I say.

"I didn’t do it," she replies.

"I didn’t kill your brother." He pulls me close.

"I didn’t know the Elector’s son would be there." I see a mysterious emotion in his eyes—anger?

"I didn’t mean to hit him!" I yell back.

"I don’t deserve it."

"I don’t have a home."

"I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this," he begins.

"I don’t know who did. I’m sorry for injuring him at all—but I had to save my own life. I wish I’d had more time to think it through."

"I don’t know, but I think so."

"I don’t know," I murmur back.

"I don’t know. I have no interest in her." She nods at one of the soldiers.

"I don’t know."

"I don’t need girlfriends. I’ve got a baby sister to take care of."

"I don’t think so," she replies.

"I don’t think ‘excited’ is the best term for how I’m feeling," I reply.

"I don’t trust you enough for that. You can talk to us two, and I’ll see if it’s worth passing along."

"I don’t want to do this." Thomas’s voice grows softer.

"I don’t want you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. If there’s any way for me to help you, I’ll do it. Maybe I can sneak out with you sometimes and—"

"I don’t work for the government."

"I found these caught in the folds of your clothes and figured you might want them for your slingshot or something." She stuffs the bag into one of my pockets.

"I get back from a morning of dealing with the Patriot rebels and what do I hear about? Helicopters two blocks from Drake. A girl scaling a skyscraper."

"I guess so."

"I guess suppressants are better than nothing. I’ve dropped it off at your mother’s home already, along with your gift bundle. I went through the back and handed them all off to John. He says to tell you thanks."

"I hang around the edge of Batalla a lot. I like to watch the cadets practice."

"I have a few questions for you."

"I have no access to Eden, although I’m sure he’s still alive. John is doing as well as can be expected." When she looks up again, I see confusion and sadness in her eyes.

"I have no way of knowing where she is. She should be safe, as long as she stays low. I haven’t mentioned her to anyone. She hasn’t appeared in any of the recent arrests . . . or deaths."

"I have what you need," I say, and wave around the vial for emphasis.

"I haven’t gotten anything useful out of him yet. He’ll be dead soon, anyway."

"I hear he’s telling people he wants to give a plague cure to someone—one person only. That this person will know who he’s talking about."

"I heard you had a private conversation with Day this afternoon," Thomas says to me as we sit together, eating bowls of edame in a café.

"I hope that brother of yours starts doing a better job of minding you, because if you end up in my office one more time this quarter—"

"I hope you don’t mind waiting a few hours before eating," he says to me.

"I just don’t want you to go alone."

"I just heard about a man who’s been looking for you."

"I just want to make sure they’re okay."

"I knew you’d be a bigger nuisance than you’re worth. You have a knack for wasting my soldiers’ time. Not to mention the soldiers of several other commanders."

"I know I’m slowing you down." But I feel a surge of regret even as the words come out of my mouth.

"I know this is a rather warm morning, so we’ll keep the sentencing brief. As you can see, our soldiers are present and serve to remind you all to keep calm during these proceedings. Let me begin with an official announcement that on December twenty-first, at eight thirty-six A.M., Ocean Standard Time, the fifteen-year-old criminal known as Day was arrested and taken into military custody."

"I know what you mean." I reach over and pat his hand to reassure him.

"I know you need this," I say, gesturing again at the vial.

"I know you’re here, and I know why." She points toward John and my mother.

"I know you’re looking for me. You want t’see me so badly that you’ve been wandering through Alta’s bars for over an hour. What do you want? A rematch or something?"

"I know," I reply.

"I know." I take off my backpack and toss it to Kaede.

"I left him behind a long time ago."

"I live on the sector’s edge. Pretty safe there so far."

"I lost both my knives," I mutter, so that the man doesn’t hear me.

"I love you," I whispered, hoping to get something out of him.

"I loved your brother very much, you know," he continues with overdone sympathy.

"I might as well be talking to a dog." But to myself I think, Day’s words will matter if he’s telling the truth.

"I missed that ball on purpose." John laughs as he turns and jogs over to the ball.

"I need the bathroom," I whisper, my voice hoarse.

"I never did ask you about your street name. Why ‘Day’?"

"I never got your name. Guess it’s no big deal now, is it? You already know mine."

"I passed my Trial!"

"I promise I’ll have the money soon. All I need is one more lucky break, and I’ll be there, and we’ll have it for him."

"I promise you, I couldn’t have."

"I really miss him," she whispers.

"I received a full history of your grades there. Perfect scores—you’ve already finished most of your courses in half the number of years, yes? They also say you’re quite a troublemaker. Is this true?"

"I remember him as a kid—you should’ve seen him. He used to run around your parents’ living room, holding out his hand like a little gun. He was destined to enter our squads."

"I said I’ll see you tomorrow."

"I saw the helicopters over Drake at noon and had a . . . . suspicion June might’ve been involved."

"I scavenge on the streets. I end up traveling a lot."

"I shot a girl. She’d failed her Trial and tried to escape the stadium. Chian screamed at me to shoot her . . . and I listened."

"I shot someone at the Trial stadium today."

"I shouldn’t have watched the Skiz fight at all, but what can I say? Your friend looked like she could use some help." Then she shifts her gaze to me.

"I should’ve never saved you from that Skiz fight. I should’ve left you to die."

"I studied my brother’s crime scene report again last night." Her voice trickles to a whisper so that I have to lean forward to hear her.

"I suppose I should call you Daniel, though. Daniel Altan Wing. I managed to get that much out of your brother John."

"I suppose you must be excited, what with everything that’s going on," Thomas says as we file into the theater.

"I think I can leave you guys alone after another day," I say after a while.

"I think I got stabbed."

"I think I really did it."

"I think he would have preferred the firing squad."

"I think you really did it. What a run! Did you see the look on Day’s face?"

"I thought he would be around for a long time, you know, someone I could always lean on. He was all I had left. And now he’s gone, and I wish I knew why." She shakes her head slowly, as if defeated, and then lets her eyes meet mine again.

"I thought you were a smart one. . . ."

"I tied him up and delivered food to some quarantined families. Bite me."

"I told him that our airships will target his hometown next." She turns back to the prisoner.

"I want justice. And I want to free the boy who didn’t kill my brother."

"I want the current guards dismissed and thrown off my patrol."

"I want to ask you something, just out of curiosity. You heard anything about a man around here in the last few days, someone who says he has plague meds?"

"I want to give you this," I reply, handing the money to Kaede.

"I want to help Day escape before his execution. And I’ve heard that the Patriots have wanted to recruit him for a long time. You probably don’t want to see him dead, either. Maybe the Patriots and I can come to some sort of arrangement."

"I want to know why they took Eden away. The plague. I know you rich folks have it easy—new plague vaccinations every year and whatever meds you need. But haven’t you wondered . . . haven’t you wondered why it never goes away? Or why it comes back so regularly?"

"I want to leave too."

"I want to see my brother John," I say.

"I want to see you stand for your execution, and I won’t have you dying from infection before I’m through with you."

"I wanted my family to be safe too."

"I was afraid they’d mistake you for Day and shoot at you."

"I was pretty sick when you first met me. Remember how grimy I looked?"

"I was so excited when they told me you were awake. I just had to come and see you myself. You should feel pretty lucky—the medics say you’re plague-free, even after spending time with that infected lot you call a family."

"I was so pleased when Commander Jameson told me that you’d be tracking him. His case needs a pair of fresh eyes, and you’re just the doll to do it. What a gem of a test mission, eh?"

"I was wondering when you’d come." I hesitate for a second.

"I wish I could have stopped Thomas. You and I are enemies, make no mistake about that . . . but I did not wish for such a thing to happen." Then she straightens and begins to turn away.

"I wish him great luck in the election, then, although I’m sure he will not need it."

"I wonder what we would’ve been like if I’d been born into a life more like yours, and you had been born into mine. Would we be just like we are now? Would I be one of the Republic’s top soldiers? And would you be a famous criminal?"

"I won’t be long, I promise. I’m really sorry."

"I won’t have you saying that in my house, John."

"I won’t hurt you," I whisper in his ear.

"I won’t."

"I work for the Republic. We know a lot of things, some that might surprise you."

"I would highly suggest you not try that again," she snaps.

"I would rather die than see them hurt you. Understand?"

"I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those rings. Just taking a break from the sun. You seem like nice company, you know. I mean, as long as you don’t have the plague."

"If I ever kill, I’ll do it on my own terms."

"If I hear so much as one pair of footsteps heading our way," Kaede says, "I’ll kill you right here. Understand?"

"If I knew any of these people, do you really think I’d tell you?"

"If a boy killed someone you loved, wouldn’t you keep trying to figure out why he’d done it? I thought he might talk to me if the guards weren’t around. But I’ve given up on him. I’ll be happier when he’s dead."

"If there’s something we need to hear about, the generals will tell us."

"If they don’t back down soon, the commanders will make them regret it."

"If you don’t mind, Commander," he says, "has something happened? What’s going on?"

"If you see me floating unconscious out to sea, though—by all means, come and get me."

"If you want to leave in the morning, just go," I said to her.

"If you wanted me to wake up, you could’ve just tapped me."

"If you’re still feeling sick by tonight, I’ll file a report and send the plague patrol over to check you. You know, protocol. And if you need me to come over, just call me."

"Ill-tempered until the end, aren’t you?" She releases my head and tilts my chin up with a finger.

"Impressive aim. The knife is one of a pair, correct? See this pattern painted on the bottom of the blade? It cuts off abruptly."

"In case you didn’t know."

"In central Lake now. I’m going dark for a bit."

"In the southern swamplands between the two warfronts. It’s a genuine coin from nineteen-ninety. See the name? United States. It was real."

"Injured your hand yesterday, Ms. Whitaker?" I say after a while.

"Investigation?" I ask him with a frown.

"Iparis, accompany the guards back to this boy’s cell. I’ll return shortly." June salutes, then follows John out of the cell while soldiers approach me and tie my hands behind my back.

"Is he alive?"

"Is it my turn?"

"Is it true? How high up did you get?"

"Is my family okay? Did some of the medicine survive my fall?"

"Is she alive? What’d you do with her?"

"Is that a challenge, kid?" she shouts.

"Is that a serious question? Don’t we all want more money? Can you ever have enough?"

"Is that so?" I whisper back.

"Is that what you’re saving up all that money for? A plague cure?"

"Is that you?"

"Is there any particular reason why you’re nicer than usual today?"

"Is there still room tonight? I can pay."

"Is this some kind of trick?" Day moves his injured leg a little and tenses up in pain.

"It depends. Do you have money?"

"It doesn’t seem to be contagious. And Eden’s skin still looks good. No bleeding."

"It doesn’t seem to be helping you. I can ask Commander Jameson to send someone else to give Day his water rations. I hate to think of you having to interact so much with your brother’s murderer."

"It has all its official labels, the stamp of approval. I assure you it’s the real thing."

"It matters because if you hadn’t escaped, my brother would be alive right now. And I want to make sure no other filthy street con assigned to the labor camps escapes the system—so that this scenario won’t play out ever again."

"It means a lot. I know Metias would be proud that he gave his life for his country."

"It seems like you’re in an awful hurry to stock up."

"It should’ve been me!"

"It sounded like . . . something gurgling," she whispers.

"It was quite a precise job. And when I think of precise, I think of one person. You."

"It’s Daniel."

"It’s Eden. John says everyone else is fine for now. But Eden can talk and seems alert enough. He tried to get out of bed and help your mother fix the leak under your sink, to prove he felt strong, but of course she sent him back to bed. She ripped up two of her shirts to use as cool cloths for Eden’s fever, so John said if you find any more clothes that fit Mom, he’d be happy to take them."

"It’s a pleasure to see you."

"It’s a trap. We’ll leave immediately."

"It’s all right. Let us hear what our friend has to say against the Republic."

"It’s five past midnight. I’ll give you two minutes. Then I leave."

"It’s hardly your fault. Your sister was caught scaling a high-rise during her lunch hour today. She’d wandered two blocks off campus to do it. As you know, students are to use only the climbing walls on campus for physical training, and leaving the campus in the middle of the day is forbidden—"

"It’s hollow."

"It’s me, Mom," I say.

"It’s more of an order than a request."

"It’s more proof." At first my father tried to show it only to Mom, but I managed to get a good look as he turned it over in his hands.

"It’s not that bad," she lies.

"It’s strange being here with you. I hardly know you. But . . . sometimes it feels like we’re the same person born into two different worlds."

"It’s strange," I say to Day later, as we both curl up on the floor.

"It’s the only way to survive, isn’t it?"

"It’s too dangerous for you if I stay. Trust me." My eyes flick to Mom, who’s working hard to keep her own fear in check while telling Eden a story.

"It’s too dangerous here, Day. You know it is. Arizona or Colorado would be safer—or come on, even Barstow. I don’t mind the outskirts."

"It’s unfortunate it’s under these circumstances again," he replies.

"It’s you," I say.

"I—" I begin.

"I—I can pay you. We don’t have much, but you can take whatever you want. Please." John’s hand comes down and grabs my arm.

"I’d be careful if I were you, boy," he spits.

"I’d be happy to take you in dead, if you prefer."

"I’d like to know what you’ve been up to, Ms. Iparis. I’ve been trying to contact you for the past twenty-four hours. I was ready to send some soldiers to collect you—and you and I both know how happy Commander Jameson would be about that."

"I’d like you to meet my mother," I say to her.

"I’d say that’s a win."

"I’ll be counting down the minutes!" Then she storms away and slams the cell door behind her.

"I’ll be fine," I reply.

"I’ll be fine." I smile.

"I’ll be home as early as I can. We have a lot to talk about." He puts his hands on my shoulders, ignores my puzzled look, and gives me a quick kiss on my forehead.

"I’ll be home late tonight," he says.

"I’ll be inducted either way," he said.

"I’ll be right back."

"I’ll go get us some water." She jumps up and heads down the open stairwell to the water’s edge.

"I’ll have some if you do," I say.

"I’ll leave that to you."

"I’ll let you know. Thanks." I hang up.

"I’ll look less suspicious than you," I reply.

"I’ll make a metal casing for it, something that covers both sides. I’ll weld it shut so the coin’s secure inside."

"I’ll see you on your execution day."

"I’ll see you soon."

"I’ll see you tomorrow."

"I’ll take my chances. And you didn’t have to come with me. You could’ve waited for me back in Alta."

"I’ll tell you nothing. You can try as hard as you want, but I’ll tell you nothing."

"I’ll tell you why it matters," she hisses.

"I’m a careful girl, when I’m not angry."

"I’m afraid that’s as long as I can keep you. The plague patrol’s going to do another sweep soon." He hesitates.

"I’m befriending a criminal, and pushing away people I’ve known my entire life."

"I’m faster this way. Seriously. Better that only one of us is out there hunting for the money. You won’t do Mom any good if you’re dead."

"I’m glad you think so." He drops fifty Notes on our table as the waiter comes by.

"I’m glad you’re relieved," Thomas says.

"I’m going to head down to the water. I’ll be back in a minute."

"I’m going to leave you here for a bit, so you can collect your thoughts. Meet me in two minutes in the third-floor stairwell so you can give the photographers some room." She glances once at Metias’s body before she turns away—for a brief second, her face softens.

"I’m going to see what we have for soup." I hear him leave the bedroom.

"I’m going to show you a series of photos, Mr. Wing," he says.

"I’m going to sleep awhile longer."

"I’m going to throw them off."

"I’m grateful for your help."

"I’m grateful for yours."

"I’m guessing Kaede was no friend of yours."

"I’m guessing they didn’t catch the person," I say to Thomas.

"I’m heading out to the track. Where’s Metias?"

"I’m here to negotiate with you." I meet her stare with calm eyes.

"I’m here," I murmur.

"I’m kinda proud of that one."

"I’m letting go," I whisper to the doctor.

"I’m looking forward to your execution, Day," she snarls at me.

"I’m not accusing you of anything, June." His expression turns tragic, even pleading.

"I’m not as good as she is," he whispers.

"I’m not cold and I’m not bleeding," I say to him.

"I’m not feeling well," I manage.

"I’m not going to wait for him to kill off my soldiers," she snaps back at me.

"I’m not going to wait up for you," I call after him, but by now he’s already inside and the jeep’s pulling away with him inside of it.

"I’m of the understanding that you are almost done with your training as an agent, correct? That you’ve already finished your courses on tracking?"

"I’m okay." When I push wet strands of her hair behind her ears, she looks up at me.

"I’m overseeing the lab at Los Angeles Central. They’re delivering vials of some mutated virus there—it shouldn’t take all night. And I already told you no. No missions." Metias hesitates.

"I’m personally devastated by the way he died," he says.

"I’m proud of you, Johnny. Good job."

"I’m so sorry for that," he says.

"I’m sorry about that, by the way," I say, gesturing at her arm.

"I’m sorry about your mother. My commander had promised me she wouldn’t hurt any civilians, and she went back on her word. I . . ." Her voice quivers.

"I’m sorry you had to deal with Thomas yesterday."

"I’m sorry," I whispered.

"I’m sorry," Thomas says abruptly to me.

"I’m sorry. Metias has been killed."

"I’m sure as hell not meeting him, whoever he is—but I got to admit, I’m curious to see what he has to say. What if he does have plague cures?"

"I’m sure you understand why I did it. I still have the wound you gave me."

"I’m well," I say again.

"I’m well."

"I’ve also included an electro-bomb. Level three. Worth six thousand Notes. It’ll disable guns for two minutes in a half-mile radius. I’m sure you know how difficult it can be to get one on the black market."

"I’ve got sixteen hundred Notes," I whisper.

"I’ve got to go," I say.

"I’ve never heard of the plague showing up there."

"I’ve never worked with the Patriots," I snap.

"John and I never got sick."

"June, I’m sorry about your brother. I didn’t know anything would happen to him."

"June, I’ve been meaning to ask you . . ." He hesitates.

"June, are you listening to me?"

"June," Day murmurs.

"June," a boy named Dorian says as he tags alongside us.

"June," he said, "I think I’m going to appeal for a different mentor tomorrow."

"June." Thomas’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

"June?" he says.

"June—"

"June—ah—Ms. Iparis won’t learn a thing if you keep praising her for breaking the rules."

"June’s heading home." Then he puts a hand firmly on my shoulder and guides me away from my classmates.

"Just because you pulled some pranks and played charity worker to some street scum? Well, let me tell you a secret. I’m from a poor sector too. But I followed the rules. I worked my way up, I earned my country’s respect. The rest of you people just sit around and complain and blame the state for your bad luck. Bunch of dirty, lazy cons." He punches me again.

"Just decided to waltz in here and break a few girls’ hearts? Or are you fighting?" She nods toward the Skiz fight.

"Just dehydrated and feverish. I think I ate something bad last night at the café. Tell Commander Jameson I should feel a little better by evening."

"Just some water, please," I say.

"Kaede, I need your help. I need to talk to the Patriots."

"Keep him up here for two days," Commander Jameson says.

"Keep moving, cousin," I mutter under my breath as Tess stops to laugh at some young gambler’s joke.

"Keep your clothes on."

"Kind of a luxury for a family of your type. You like wasting money often?"

"Know this person?"

"Know what I think? I think this guy’s just crazy."

"Lake boy, yeah?" she asks.

"Lake isn’t safe right now," I say.

"Leftover cases from an imported gift sent straight to our glorious Elector himself. Goes until six o’clock." His eyes dart around nervously as he says this.

"Let me ask you this, though. How the hell are you going to get Day out of the building at all? You think you’re going to be the only soldier escorting him to the firing squad? Other soldiers will probably flank you. Hell, a whole patrol might join you."

"Let me tell you a short story," she says.

"Let’s get this over with," I whisper.

"Let’s just go home."

"Let’s start again, shall we? What’s your name?"

"Let’s take him in," he says.

"Look!" he said.

"Look," I say.

"Look. Don’t worry about me." Through the glass, I see the spy arch his back in agony.

"Looks like you’re finally behaving. Better late than never." Then she walks away and disappears into the elevator with the Girl, leaving the rest of the soldiers to stand guard.

"Love you, Junebug," he says, his trademark good-bye.

"Lucky person, yeah?"

"Make sure it’s exactly five minutes, not a second more." Then she presses a hand to her ear and starts barking out more orders.

"Make them work for it. Punch someone if you have to." John gives me a sad, crooked smile.

"Maybe it’s the plague."

"Maybe the hospital will let down its guard after a couple weeks." But in my heart I know better.

"Maybe their reader’s broken," she suggests.

"Maybe they’re not home?"

"Maybe you should be the one to help us steal some food, not me," he continues.

"Maybe you should stop seeing him," he suggests after another long silence.

"Maybe you’ll be of use after all. I’ve called ahead to Drake and told them that you are dismissed from further training. You were almost done with your coursework anyway."

"Maybe you’ve forgotten that you still have two brothers. Both at the mercy of the Republic. Watch your tongue, unless you want to see their bodies lined up next to your mother’s."

"Maybe," I say.

"Medic trucks will be at the house tomorrow. We’re to take the inhabitants to the Central Hospital."

"Metias is doing a better job than our dead parents," I reply, maybe more sharply than I intended.

"Metias was very attentive during the time I mentored him. Natural leader. Did he ever tell you about that?"

"Metias, did our mother take care of me when I was sick? Did she do things like this?"

"Mom, listen. The plague patrol is coming, and they have a medic truck with them. Whatever virus Eden has . . . They’re coming to get him. We have to hide you all."

"Money is the most important thing in the world, you know. Money can buy you happiness, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. It’ll buy you relief, status, friends, safety . . . all sorts of things."

"More or less accounted for?" I say it sarcastically enough to make him blush.

"Morning," I say to her.

"Most do it for the wrong reasons. I just hope you never have to be in either category."

"Move it, Iparis. Time is of the essence." Her eyes flicker to Ollie in the backseat.

"Move out!"

"Mr. Emerson Adam Graham, of East Texas." Commander Jameson says it in a light, coaxing voice.

"Mr. Wing," he says.

"Mr. Wing," she says to me after a while.

"Ms. Iparis told me about what you did to her on the streets. How dare you force yourself onto someone of her rank."

"Ms. Iparis," he says, "you’re under investigation. Follow me."

"Ms. Iparis." Thomas’s voice comes out as a tiny hum that only I can hear.

"Ms. Iparis?" Thomas says.

"Must be a stronger strain."

"My Daniel. You’re alive. This must be a dream."

"My apologies."

"My brother was a better leader than I’ll ever be."

"My commander wants me to ask you some standard procedural questions before your execution date. We’ll try to keep it cordial, although of course we started off on the wrong foot."

"My dear boy," she says.

"My hands are tired," she says.

"My men will be at the entrances tonight."

"My mother will punish him for his behavior. He’s young and doesn’t know any better."

"My name is June Iparis."

"My name is Tess," she whispered.

"My name’s Metias. If you have any questions, come see me."

"My name’s Tess," I hear her say.

"My orders were to ask you a series of questions," he says tightly.

"My own soldiers had to be called in to help, which means my schedule is entirely disrupted. I’ve already had one of my best men sent in here with lacerations on his face. Filthy cons like you don’t know how to treat our military boys." She shoves my face away in disgust and turns her back on me.

"My son will run for the Elector’s position in late spring." The Elector smiles at Anden, who bows.

"Nah. I got this a long time ago." He hesitates, then decides against saying anything more about it.

"Neither of us is sick yet," she says.

"Never seen her in my life."

"Never seen him before."

"Nice of you to ask." I’m amazed she even cares.

"Nice of you to say so."

"Nice to hear something honest." I can’t break away from his stare.

"Nice try. You’re not going anywhere until you graduate and get assigned to your own patrol."

"No big deal." But I grit my teeth even as I say it.

"No goddy clue. You cost me a thousand Notes."

"No kidding. He said he wants this person to meet him at midnight, tonight, at the ten-second place."

"No matter. Time for you to get in a jeep. Back to headquarters." She makes a quick motion with her hand, and Thomas barks out an order.

"No offense. Just thought I’d ask. And how do you know I don’t work for someone else? Don’t you think you’re giving the government too much credit?"

"No way I’m taking you to see any other Patriots," she says.

"No, sir."

"No, stay with us!"

"No, you didn’t. You got a perfect score."

"No, you’re not."

"No," I snap.

"No," she said.

"No. I don’t think so." I lower my voice until it’s barely a whisper.

"No. I’m okay." I peer in the open window at my mother’s house, then catch my first glimpse of a familiar face.

"No. Tess was down there because she likes seeing the action and she’s a little nearsighted. I like watching from a distance."

"No. They’re using him. They’re using him." His voice grows quiet.

"No. They’ve tried recruiting me before, but I prefer to work alone."

"No. You take care of me the best," I murmured.

"No." It’s John’s voice.

"Nonsense, my dear," he says.

"Nope, no luck. I’ll try some public places tomorrow."

"Nope."

"Not a problem, Captain." The dean secretary waves her hand dismissively.

"Not good," he says.

"Not so loud, cousin." My voice comes out in a whisper through dry lips.

"Not sure. A boy and girl helped me get out of the Skiz chaos. The girl bandaged up my wound. I’m staying with them temporarily until I can walk better."

"Not that. The way you looked at him. Don’t you have any brains at all? You never look at an officer like that, do you understand? You want to get us all killed?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Not yet," John replies.

"Nothing more than a wounded shoulder? Maybe you should’ve double-checked." There’s a deep fury in her eyes, something that takes me aback.

"Nothing," I reply.

"Now I’m giving you a chance to save yours. Turn yourself in. Please. No one will get hurt."

"Now stop nagging me."

"Of course not." The Girl leans back and carefully lies down.

"Of course," I mutter.

"Of course. You’re fifteen. You went fourteen floors up a—" He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and steadies himself.

"Oh, Iparis," she replies.

"Oh, come on, that’s not all. I can tell you’d give anything to take a swing at me. So do it. I dare you."

"Oh, is that all you’re worried about? A bunch of renegade Trial takers who managed to escape their deaths? Those ten-year-olds are a dangerous bunch, yeah? I’m telling you that you got your facts wrong. I didn’t kill your brother. But you killed my mother. You might as well have held the gun to her head!"

"Oh, sure, even kids. It’s easy." I look at her.

"Oh, sure. You killed my mother. You can imagine I’m dying to help you out."

"Oh, that was the other reason I wanted to see you last night. I wasn’t supposed to tell you—it’s supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh, trust me. I know."

"Oh." A pause.

"Oh." I didn’t know it back then, but now I can tell that Metias felt like he had shot me when he killed that little girl.

"Oh? What’s that?"

"Okay, Iparis," she says to the Girl.

"Okay, genius." Kaede laughs, a little too sarcastically.

"Okay, then. Sorry to hear it. Feel better soon." Another pause.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Okay," she replies.

"Okay," she whispered, so softly that I could barely hear her.

"Okay. We’ll have people over here twenty-four seven."

"Okay."

"One last time. Please."

"One more thing," Day whispers as I stand.

"One night a week, remember? Just let me check up on them one night a week."

"One of your headaches coming on?"

"Only once. A long time ago." Some of his dark hair falls across his face.

"Open up!"

"Open up," a man calls out.

"Open your eyes again and look at me."

"Or do you have skills to offer, as I’m sure you do—"

"Order! Please, order in the crowd." The judge’s voice crackles over the JumboTrons’ loudspeakers, but the people continue to shout, and soldiers push back against them.

"Ouch," I mutter as I rub my forehead.

"Over there," he snaps.

"Pat him down."

"Patched things up a bit. You’ll be able to stand for your execution." He pauses.

"People may find it easier to trust me." We’re standing in front of a window in Batalla Hall’s north wing, watching Commander Jameson at work on the other side of the glass.

"Perhaps he found me attractive. But most likely it was because he drank some cheap wine. I went with it. Didn’t want to compromise the mission after coming so far."

"Plague patrol," a voice calls out.

"Plague’s popped up in the Zein sector this time."

"Please continue."

"Please what?" Then I sighed, embarrassed by my irritation.

"Please, please."

"Please," she said.

"Please. Just let me in. I want to see you."

"Poor Eden." After a pause, she continues.

"Poor boy. You truly believed you could break out of a military stronghold, didn’t you?"

"Probably a month or more. We’ll find plague medicine before then, I’m sure of it."

"Protesters in front of Batalla Hall," she snaps.

"Protesters?"

"Put your hands up."

"Really? You think so?"

"Really?" I shake my head.

"Release the doctor!" he shouts.

"Ridiculous. Couldn’t the commander pick a less dramatic moment for this nonsense?"

"Right," he mutters.

"Right. We’ve already deployed. See you in a few."

"See for yourself."

"See that pitiful bunch?"

"See you later, Ms. Iparis," he says, tipping his hat.

"See? Evidence." He pressed it into her palm.

"Seen this girl before?"

"She always drags me past the bars around here and makes us wait nearby while she listens to whatever anthems they’re playing inside. I don’t know. Must be a girl thing."

"She did you a favor by not assigning you to the warfront. . . . She’ll be upset you’re skipping. Won’t she mark it on your record? You don’t want to be kicked out like some street con."

"She must’ve come in handy when she fixed up your leg."

"She prefers for me to escort you."

"She says to stay put and wait for her command."

"She seems very fragile," I whisper.

"She’s a bartender from the rim of Alta and Winter. Just a recent acquaintance."

"She’s just one less slum con to deal with."

"She’s looking forward to your execution, Mr. Wing. I can guarantee you that."

"Shoot, and you’ll hit him instead," I call out to the soldiers from beneath my handkerchief.

"Should be hard for any patrol to track us in this weather." I pause to watch him.

"Show me." The doctor lifts a trembling hand and pulls the fridge door open.

"Sir! Sir!" John darts in front of me and holds his hands out to the policeman.

"Sit back down," he says.

"Six minutes," I whisper back to my brother.

"So John turned back. He bought us time and he went back to the hall. They thought he was you. He even wore your blindfold. They grabbed him and took him back to the firing squad yard." She shakes her head again.

"So soon?"

"So tell me," I decide to ask.

"So there is, Daniel." He glanced up at our mother.

"So they are."

"So you want revenge for your brother’s death or something? Gonna turn your back on the Republic for Day’s sake?"

"So your brother’s friend murdered him, huh?" Kaede lets out a low whistle.

"So, Girl," I say after a while, "thanks for your help today. For Tess, I mean. Where’d you learn to fight like that? You broke Kaede’s arm without even trying."

"So, tell me," he whispers.

"So. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll continue with my patrol’s projects. For you, let’s test out your skills with a practice run. Show me how you’d track Day. Maybe you’ll get somewhere. Maybe not. But you’re a set of fresh young eyes, and if you impress me, I’ll promote you to be a full agent on this patrol. I’ll make you famous—the youngest agent out there."

"So. You’re Day, then."

"Some chili for you. It’s not the best, but it’ll fill you up. I’ll bring you some bread, too." Before either of us can say anything, he hurries out of the room with the rest of his groceries.

"Some of it." Tess helps me back down before leaning her elbows on my bed.

"Some of our tech used to be better," he’d tell me.

"Some of the stuff we saved up this week. It’ll make for a nice celebration once they pass the inspection." I dig through the little pile of goodies inside the bundle, then hold up a used pair of goggles.

"Some years ago, we caught a young renegade who had a great deal in common with you. Bold and brash, stupidly defiant, just as inconvenient. He tried to escape before his execution date too. Do you know what happened to him, Mr. Wing?" She reaches over, puts her hand on my forehead, and pushes me backward until my head presses against the wall.

"Somebody has to keep an eye on you." Two years younger than me—although sometimes she sounds old enough to be my caretaker.

"Someday you’ll die in a worse way than he did," I snap back.

"Someone needs to save Eden. So John saved you. As any brother would."

"Someone tampered with the security cams down here, so we have no footage." He taps his gun.

"Someone you care about will wish you’d come out to greet me." I look at the time on my goggles.

"Something bothering you?"

"Something to be said for writing my journals by hand, eh?"

"Something’s wrong," I whisper.

"Sometimes, Commander. Am I in trouble? Did they expel me?"

"Soon the plague will have blown through, and you can come back to visit. We have more than enough money for two train tickets."

"Sore loser, huh? Here, I’ll make you feel better. I’ll tell you all about what it was like. Hearing about it is the next best thing, isn’t it?"

"Sore," I mutter.

"Sorry to hear it, Day," Tess says.

"Sorry to hear it. You should try to swing more from your arm and not from your wrist."

"Sorry t’hear it."

"Sorry!" I shout.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"Sorry," he murmurs.

"Sorry," she replies.

"Sounds like you’re a fan of Lincoln, yeah?"

"Stay back!"

"Stay back, June!"

"Stay back, Tess," she says.

"Stay here," I whisper.

"Still don’t see them?" Tess whispers.

"Stop crying. I’m not going to hurt you." I knelt down beside her.

"Stop her!"

"Stop, please!" John rushes back to the policeman and stands firmly between the two of us.

"Street brats," he mutters.

"Such an honor to meet you, sir. It is my pleasure, Elector, to do what I can for our country." I’m amazed by how calm my voice is.

"Surely breaking a rule once in a while is tolerable, especially if you’re doing it to beef up your skills for the Republic’s sake. Victory against the Colonies. Right?"

"Suspended for a week? Do you want to explain this to me?" he demands.

"Take good care of her. She’s worth it."

"Take him away," she calls out to the soldiers holding me.

"Take him down to the hospital wing and get that leg of his fixed. Give him some food and water. He won’t last the night otherwise."

"Talk to me," he says.

"Tanagashi is pretty far away. You came all this way to see a Skiz fight?"

"Tanagashi sector. I mean, I used to live there."

"Tell me about what might have happened here, cadet," Commander Jameson demands.

"Tell me what happened. Why did he do it?" I shout.

"Tell me where my brothers are."

"Tell me where to get the plague cures."

"Tell me," I say, pausing to look at Thomas.

"Tell them—"

"Tell your boys outside to open the door," I say to the soldier I’m holding hostage.

"Tell your men to stand down," I shout, scrambling out of his grasp.

"Ten-second place?"

"Terrace accident. I tend cows."

"Tess loves music," he replies.

"Tess," I say.

"Tess. Is she your younger sister?"

"Tess?" I squint into the darkness.

"Thank you again, sir, for letting us stay here."

"Thank you for coming," I say.

"Thank you for finding this." I wonder if she can hear the sadness in my voice.

"Thank you for giving it back to me."

"Thank you for your cooperation," he begins.

"Thank you for your help," Metias says to the dean secretary.

"Thank you, my dear. That will be all. Please, Agent Iparis, enjoy yourself tonight. I hope we have a chance to meet again." Then he turns away.

"Thank you, sir," I say.

"Thank you," she murmurs to Tess.

"Thanks, I guess," I whisper.

"Thanks, but I prefer to work alone."

"Thanks, cousin, but I don’t drink. I like to stay alert."

"Thanks, cousin," I say.

"Thanks," I say.

"Thanks," I whisper.

"Thanks," he whispers.

"Thanks. But I’ll be fine. We’ll execute Day tomorrow, and I’ll feel much better afterward. Like you said. Won’t be long now."

"Thanks. When I feel better, I’m tracking Kaede down."

"Thanks. You too."

"Thanks. You’re very kind."

"Thanks." He doesn’t look back at me, but I can see his lips tilt up at the edges.

"Thanks." I blink water out of my eyes.

"That dress polishes you up like a fresh snow blossom."

"That imperfection was a gift from the Republic."

"That imperfection?"

"That is—I mean, you look well for the circumstances, given all that’s happened."

"That kid made it as far as the stairwell before we got him. When his execution date came, the court granted me permission to kill him personally instead of putting him in front of the firing squad." Her hand tightens on my forehead.

"That must be some sort of record. Not that, you know, you’re supposed to do it."

"That should heal soon, if it doesn’t get infected. But you might want to rest a couple of days. You can stay with us."

"That sounds vague. Did I show up on the security cams? Did Commander Jameson put you up to this?"

"That was fun."

"That was when you began your little crime spree on the streets, I guess. Five years. Seems like you grew used to getting away with things. Started letting your guard down, didn’t you? Did you ever work for anybody? Did anybody ever work for you? Were you ever affiliated with the Patriots?"

"That will be all, Mr. Wing," he says in a low voice.

"That will be all, Mr. Wing."

"That’ll do for now."

"That’s John!" I shout over the rain.

"That’s a nasty one, but nothing that can’t heal. I’ll try to find some goat milk for you in the morning. It’s good for you. Until then you’ll just have to spit on it. It’ll help with infections."

"That’s better." The Girl lowers her gun a little.

"That’s good." I study his face.

"That’s irrelevant."

"That’s it. We’re done here."

"That’s nonsense. The medics checked him already."

"That’s not a police dog, kid." Even now, her demeanor is unflinching.

"That’s odd," I say out loud.

"That’s our guy. And I’m going to get him."

"That’s really something," I continue.

"That’s ridiculous."

"That’s right. My brother."

"That’s the guy. I don’t think he’s very happy that I got a kiss from you and he hasn’t. So he interrogated me about the Patriots. Apparently Kaede’s a Patriot. Small world, huh?"

"That’s where he made his getaway," I say.

"That’s why I brought this. There are two hundred thousand Notes in there, minus what I handed you earlier. A decent fortune. It’s my reward money for capturing Day, and it should be enough payment for your assistance." My voice lowers.

"That’s why they wanted Eden, right?" he whispers.

"The Colonies want our land," the ads declare.

"The boy is John! What was he doing out there, out in the yard?"

"The captain named Metias."

"The commander informed me that they’ll sentence Day tomorrow morning," Thomas says a moment later, after we finish greeting a captain from the Emerald sector.

"The night of your tenth birthday? What were you doing in the lab? You were supposed to be on your way to the labor camps."

"The pauses in your keystrokes are off. You’re favoring your left hand."

"The people you’ll see are suspected of Patriot involvement."

"The prisoner in 6822. Cut off his fingers."

"The reception must have been bad, because I had it on. It was pretty windy last night."

"The rest of you, keep your rifles on him," he says over his shoulder.

"The second knife is stuck in the wall of the stairwell."

"The sooner the better, right?" The sudden edge in his voice startles me.

"Then fetch me that chicken too," the policeman says.

"Then send for extra troops. I want backup when Day shows up to protect his family." I remember the way Day had crawled under the floorboards.

"Then you must be responsible for stealing sixteen thousand five hundred Notes from there as well."

"There wasn’t enough time." She pauses.

"There will be other soldiers. But who says they can’t be Patriots in disguise?"

"There’s no time to explain." I try to ignore the expression in her eyes.

"There’s no time to run."

"There’s someone who wants to meet you."

"There’s something brewing," one of the police says.

"There’s something in your vest pocket, Dad," I said.

"These gentlemen tell me great things about you. That you’re a prodigy. And more important, you’ve put one of our most irritating criminals behind bars. So I thought it fitting that I congratulate you in person. If we had more patriotic young people like you, with minds as sharp as yours, we’d have won the war against the Colonies long ago. Wouldn’t you agree?" He pauses to look around at the others, and everyone murmurs in agreement.

"They are no longer your concern." She takes several steps forward.

"They came just for him?"

"They didn’t do anything . . . and Eden . . . he’s not a lab rat, you know." He’s silent for a minute.

"They don’t," I reply.

"They found another one," Tess says.

"They haven’t eaten dinner. They haven’t sat down by the table in hours." I shift and stretch out my bad knee.

"They injected something into one of my eyes that stung like wasp poison. They also cut up my knee. With a scalpel. Then they force-fed me some kind of medicine, and the next thing I knew . . . I was lying in a hospital basement with a bunch of other corpses. But I wasn’t dead." He laughs again.

"They want an execution? They’ll get one." He starts running away from us.

"They want to prevent whatever new disease he’s spreading."

"They want what they don’t have. Don’t let them conquer your homes! Support the cause!"

"They were good knives."

"They’re attacking the street police."

"They’re coming for Eden. You have to hide him."

"They’re here!" she shouts.

"They’re not dispersing them, Thomas. They’re trapping them in."

"They’re using him. . . ." His eyes grow heavy.

"They’ve lost their minds." We’re standing on the raised platform outside Batalla Hall with his entire patrol facing the crowd in front of us, while another of Commander Jameson’s patrols is pushing people back with shields and batons.

"Think about it this way. How do they know what vaccines to give you every year? They always work. Don’t you find it strange that they can make vaccines that match the new plague that’s popped up? How can they predict which vaccine they’ll need?"

"Think he’s Day?" Thomas asks.

"Think you can get away with something like that, boy?" he shouts.

"Think you’re a star, don’t you?" he says.

"This is Daniel, my little brother. He didn’t mean it."

"This is a dangerous thing to own," she whispered.

"This is my son, Anden. Today is his twentieth birthday, so I thought I would bring him with me to this lovely celebration."

"This is pocket change to the Patriots," she says after she finishes.

"This isn’t college. You don’t question my actions."

"Thomas!" I want to say more, but at that instant, shots ring out from both the roofs and the platform.

"Thomas, I’ll see you tomorrow."

"Thomas," I whisper, "I found him."

"Thomas. Take him back to his cell. And put some qualified guards on his watch, for once." She releases my chin and rubs her gloved hands together.

"Thomas." I tap him and point up to the roofs.

"Thomas?"

"Those street cons are all the same," Thomas goes on, echoing what I said to Day in his cell.

"Time for a few confessions. Were you responsible for the break-in at the Arcadia bank?"

"Tipped him off about whom you work for, didn’t you? Well, it’s your first time on your own. I have the recordings at any rate. See you back at Batalla Hall." Her rebuke stings a little.

"Tired?"

"To see the results of their mutated plague virus? Why else?"

"Today?"

"Tonight. Isn’t it great? You won’t have to agonize through another whole day."

"Try as hard as you want."

"Twelve hundred Notes can’t buy you this vial. What else do you have? Valuables? Jewelry?"

"Twelve hundred Notes."

"Unchain him," I order one of the soldiers.

"Under the porch," she whispers.

"Vendors always trust a girl more, especially one like you."

"Very clever of you."

"Very funny."

"Very well." I let myself think over my plans again, details of which have been running through my mind ever since I met Kaede last night.

"Wait for my word—no one’s to be harmed—" I start to say, but the static cuts off.

"Wait." With great effort, I swallow my temper and clear my throat.

"Waiting room’s on the left. Have a seat."

"Walk better?" Thomas’s voice rises.

"Was in a fight," I say, panting.

"Wasting a day of your life watching me sit in a cell. What fun."

"We have real Tsingtao beer today," he murmurs.

"We have to brace ourselves for the worst, Mom. In case Eden . . ."

"We haven’t caught the guy," he admits after a moment.

"We lost the Skiz bet, so there’s no money left for food right now."

"We met the Elector himself. Can you believe it? I call that a successful night. I’m glad you and Commander Jameson convinced me to wear something nice."

"We need to leave the city," she says.

"We should change those bandages." He gets up and, without disturbing Tess, deftly pulls a roll of white wraps from her pocket.

"We should leave the city for a couple weeks, yeah?" She tries to keep her voice calm, but the fear is there.

"We shouldn’t have traveled so much today—but y’know, putting some distance between you and the Skiz folks wasn’t such a bad idea."

"Well . . . can’t be any more dangerous than your crazy hospital break-in, yeah?"

"Well done, Agent Iparis." June gives her a quick salute.

"Well, I don’t want to stick around in here if it is some weird mutated plague. Call for a bio team. Let’s have him brought to the medical ward cells." The other soldier nods, then raps on the door.

"Well, I know I’ll be monitoring the soldiers in the square." Thomas keeps his attention on the rotating commercials (our side currently shows a bright, gaudy Is your child ’s Trial coming up? Send him to Ace Trials for a free tutoring consultation!).

"Well, I stopped by your apartment in the middle of the night. I knocked for a long time, but you didn’t answer. It sounded like Ollie was there, so I knew you didn’t go to the track. Where were you?"

"Well, I’ll say." He lets out a laugh that makes me cringe.

"Well, I’m sorry you lost your chicken," I blurt out.

"Well, be careful." Thomas pauses for a moment.

"Well, don’t kill them," he murmurs.

"Well, go on. What about the square?"

"Well, many of them are here for a meeting of some sort. But they did make a point of stopping by the lab."

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, you heard Mr. Graham," she says.

"Well, you’re not going to go that long again with your mike off, you hear me?" he says.

"Were you responsible for the death of a city patrol captain during a raid on the Los Angeles Central Hospital? Did you steal medical supplies and break into floor three?"

"Were you responsible for vandalizing the Department of Intra-Defense two years ago, and destroying the engines of two warfront airships?"

"We’d be here all night if we kept negotiating. See how much faster that was? Much more persuasive to our target." She looks away.

"We’ll be on our way by then." Tess picks up a bottle of something clear—alcohol, I guess—and wets the edge of the bandage with it.

"We’ll be there, if you can make it."

"We’ll see," I finally say.

"We’ll see. Guess I’m picky like that."

"We’ll stay here for the night." I look at the Girl.

"We’ll stay here until late morning," he says as he works.

"We’re in Valencia. On the outskirts. The Patriots took us as far as they were willing. They’ve moved on to Vegas." June blinks water from her eyes.

"We’re moving up Day’s execution time."

"We’re not going to make it." Between us, Day has faded into a semiconscious state.

"We’re not keeping this in our house."

"We’re taking him alive!"

"We’re very grateful," I say.

"We’ve always wanted Day. He’d make a perfect Runner for us, y’know? But we’re not in the business of doing good deeds. We’re professionals, we have a long agenda, and it doesn’t involve charity projects." Tess opens her mouth to protest, but Kaede motions for her to stay quiet.

"We’ve tried a variety of tactics to catch Day in the past, but none of them have worked," Jameson told me just before she sent me home.

"We’ve tried your tactic. Now let’s try mine." She turns to the dark-haired captain and nods once.

"What . . . what happened? Are you all right? How did you get me out of Batalla Hall? Do they know you helped me?"

"What I’m trying to say . . . yesterday, when they dragged me out of my cell, I saw that red zero stamped on some double doors in Batalla Hall. I’ve seen numbers like it in Lake too. Why would they show up in the poor sectors? What are they doing out there—what are they pumping into the sectors?"

"What a beautiful boy you are." She gives me a smile laced with poison.

"What a joke! Poor little rich girl’s fallen in love with the Republic’s most famous criminal. And it’s even worse since you’re the reason he’s there in the first place. Right?"

"What a pleasure to formally meet you. I was beginning to worry that I’d never get the chance."

"What a shame. You sure you don’t wanna beer to go with that? Must hurt."

"What a waste of a good soldier." Then she shakes her head and leaves.

"What about our plan? Commander, with all due respect, we didn’t discuss killing civilians."

"What about you? Were you in the crowd?"

"What am I doing?" I whisper to Ollie, who tilts his head at me from where he’s lying on the couch.

"What are they doing with Eden?"

"What are they doing?" My voice rises.

"What are they going to do?"

"What are you doing here? Tell me what happened." He tries to steady his voice, but he knows something’s terribly wrong—something so serious that it forced me to reveal myself to my entire family.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"What are you talking about? I failed my Trial."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What are your symptoms?"

"What did you do?"

"What did you hear the first time?"

"What did you say to him?"

"What do I want?" I ask him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"What do you mean, they’re coming for my family? How do you know this?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean?" Day says.

"What do you want for the cure, cousin?"

"What does it matter? I’m here now."

"What else can I tell you? Did they do at least another pass on the inventory check? Are you sure something’s missing?"

"What exactly does the Republic want with that boy? Why take him to the hospital lab?"

"What fun you are, my beautiful boy."

"What happened to your eye, kid?"

"What happened?"

"What happened?" she asks.

"What have you done with Eden?"

"What if you get sick?"

"What is it?"

"What is it?" June replies.

"What kind of minor injury is this?"

"What makes ya think I fight?"

"What makes you think I’m a Patriot?"

"What makes you think that, Ms. Iparis?"

"What part of Lake are you from? Are you from another sector?" She studies the Girl’s wound.

"What the hell is this!" She continues to shout at her soldiers.

"What the hell were you thinking? Did you know you’d wandered right off campus?"

"What was that?" she blurts out.

"What was your Trial score?"

"What were you doing at my door in the middle of the night? Was it anything urgent? I didn’t miss something from Commander Jameson, did I?"

"What will we do with it?"

"What?" He stops wringing out his hair.

"Whatever," she says.

"What—" I begin to say, until I see John pull the blindfold off of Day’s neck.

"What’d you bring them?"

"What’d you say to him?" I ask Commander Jameson.

"What’ll it be?" she asks.

"What’s Commander Jameson telling you?" I ask Thomas.

"What’s going on? Where are you?"

"What’s wrong with these people?" I ask Thomas.

"What’s wrong?" His face turns pale at my expression.

"What’s wrong?" one of them snaps at me.

"What’s your name?" Commander Jameson asks him again.

"When June returns to campus, she’ll be on her best behavior."

"When you stand out there," John continues in a hoarse voice, "keep your chin up, all right? Don’t let them get to you."

"When you were out with Day in Lake sector, did he kiss you?"

"Where am I? Are you all right?"

"Where am I?"

"Where are my brothers?" My voice comes out as a hoarse croak.

"Where are my brothers?" he whispers.

"Where are they going?" she asks.

"Where are you going? Can I come with you?"

"Where did you find this?" Mom asked.

"Where will you go?" the boy asks.

"Where’s my brother?"

"Who did this to you?"

"Who do you think gave him that scar?"

"Who do you think is looking for you?" she asks after a while.

"Who knows what the crowd might do. They’re probably already gathering. As for you—you’ll probably be inside. Leading Day to the yard. Commander Jameson will tell us more when it’s time."

"Who said anything about you, sweetheart?" He takes off his vest, folds it neatly, and places it on the ground next to one of the trash bin’s wheels.

"Who would want to hurt Metias?" I ask him.

"Whoever hit him with this knife either stabbed him from close range or has an incredibly strong throwing arm. Right-handed." I run my fingers along the blood-caked handle.

"Whoever it was survived a two-and-a-half-story jump and still had enough strength to escape."

"Whose house are we in?"

"Who’s next?"

"Why did you save me?" she asks.

"Why didn’t she just call me?" I ask.

"Why do you ask?"

"Why do you care?"

"Why do you need so much money?"

"Why would the Republic give you those wounds, Day? Why would they want to damage someone who got a perfect fifteen hundred on his Trial score?"

"Why would the warfront be interested in Day’s little brother?"

"Why wouldn’t I be? You’ve probably lived on the streets as long as I have. You should know the answer to that, yeah?"

"Why? You afraid of me or something? Only brave enough to shoot people’s mothers?"

"Why?" My voice starts to rise.

"Why’d he do it?"

"Why’s he helping us?" I ask Tess in a low voice.

"Wipe some of that filth off your face. And if you touch me again, I’ll fill you with bullets."

"Withhold water from him for the rest of the day and move him to a cell at the end of the hall. Maybe he’ll be less temperamental in the morning." It’s weird to see the soldier salute someone so young.

"Won’t be long now."

"Wow, you’re a risk-taker. But your fighting is pretty impressive. I bet you don’t have much trouble on your own."

"Wrong answer. Let me be clear. You give me another wrong answer, and I’ll make sure you can hear your brother John’s screams all the way from here. You give me a third wrong answer, and your little brother, Eden, can share the same fate."

"Ya look like fun." Tess looks around, bewildered.

"Yeah . . . but she’s tougher than she looks."

"Yeah, I heard about that. There’s a bunch of people trying to find him."

"Yeah, close enough. It was really Tess I wanted to keep safe with my dust bomb, you know."

"Yeah, guess so."

"Yeah, is that what you told Metias?"

"Yeah, that’s a sad story. Tell me what the hell this has t’do with the Patriots."

"Yeah, you looked pretty awful."

"Yeah," I say to Thomas.

"Yeah. I’ve never seen Commander Jameson look so proud of any of her soldiers before. You’re the Republic’s golden girl." But then he falls right back into silence.

"Yeah. That’s what you say every time, Junebug. Is Drake not keeping your brain busy enough? If not, then I don’t know what will."

"Yeah. You’ve been coming here every night this week."

"Yes I do. What could possibly take this long?"

"Yes, Captain," the nurse says.

"Yes, Commander," I manage to say.

"Yes, I’m aware of that," Metias interrupts, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes, June. I twisted my wrist yesterday in a game of kivaball."

"Yes, ma’am."

"Yes, ma’am." As several of them hurry to click off the cameras, I see her take out two knives sheathed at her belt.

"Yes, ma’am." The soldier clicks his heels together before shouting a dismissal to the others.

"Yes, ma’am." Thomas salutes again, then starts barking out orders.

"Yes, ma’am." Thomas salutes and steps forward.

"Yes, sir," I say.

"Yes," I reply steadily, "he did."

"Yes," I say.

"Yes. No doubt about it."

"Yes. Rioters." Commander Jameson grabs my face.

"Yes."

"Yes." I look over to the elevator, where a new rotation of guards has just arrived.

"Yes." I nod at him.

"Yes." I pause.

"Yes?"

"You and I may have the same enemy," I say.

"You are very kind, sir."

"You bet big, don’t you? Sorry about that. She made me angry." She shifts.

"You call this a republic? You kill your own people and torture those who used to be your brothers?" I roll my eyes at that.

"You called for me, Commander," I say.

"You can ask."

"You can get out through the back door. Straight into the hall, on your left."

"You can see how well I did on my own today." She shakes her head.

"You can stay longer, if all you’re going to do is wander the streets somewhere else. I could use a good fighter like you. We can make quick cash in Skiz fights and split our food supplies. We’ll both do better."

"You can thank your captain friend for this."

"You can’t just leave like that!"

"You can’t stay there forever," the commander shouts up at me.

"You can’t trace or tag them online," he always said.

"You did!" My father clapped John on the back and shook his hand as if he were a man.

"You did? You’re the prodigy with the perfect score?"

"You didn’t bring your earpiece with you. I tried calling you but just got static."

"You didn’t do it," he repeats back at me.

"You didn’t have to stand up for me," I snap.

"You didn’t tell John what happened, did you?"

"You do the honors."

"You don’t have to come. Take a different route to the warfront and meet me there. We can decide on a rendezvous point. Better just to risk one of us than both."

"You don’t have to sit here with me, you know," I said to him after the pledge finished.

"You don’t have to talk me into it. But I’m coming with you."

"You don’t have to wake me up or say good-bye or anything." My eyelids were growing heavy, but she stayed wide awake, staring unblinkingly at me, even as I fell asleep.

"You don’t know that."

"You don’t like Chian?"

"You don’t need my help. You’re lying," she says.

"You don’t wanna see this."

"You don’t want two infected knees. I’ll help you clean them up and then you can be on your way again. You can have some of my food too. Pretty good deal, right?"

"You don’t? Where are your parents?"

"You followed me last night." I tell myself that I should be angry—but I don’t feel anything except confusion.

"You found it at the hospital that night, didn’t you? That’s how you recognized me when you finally found me—I must’ve reached for it."

"You get right to the point."

"You got that right."

"You guys must be loving this," I say after a while.

"You had it," I whisper.

"You have a right to be suspicious of me," I say.

"You have any tracking gear?" she says.

"You hit it too far," I protest.

"You like answering all my questions with your own questions?"

"You live close by?" I asked her.

"You look lovely, June."

"You look terrible."

"You managed to pass your Trial," I say.

"You may claim no affiliation with them, but perhaps some have crossed your path. And perhaps you’d like to help us find them."

"You might catch the plague down here."

"You might have a crack in one of your ribs, but definitely no breaks. You should heal quickly enough. Anyway, the man didn’t ask our names and so I didn’t ask his. Best not to know. I told him why you got yourself injured like this. I think it reminded him of his son."

"You must be Agent Iparis." His lips tug upward at my stunned expression, but there is little warmth in his smile.

"You must be as thrilled as I am to meet again. Call it an act of extreme kindness that I requested your leg be bandaged up," she snaps.

"You must be exhausted today. You’d better tell Commander Jameson, if you don’t want her to work you too hard."

"You need backup. Be reasonable. If something happens to you along the way, how will I know you’re in trouble?"

"You need more time," John says.

"You pulled a close one there—closest one yet. If I hadn’t found someone to take us in, I don’t think you would’ve made it."

"You really scared me today," he says.

"You should go find her," I say.

"You should have taken me with you," I whisper to him.

"You should leave now," he whispers.

"You should still be careful what you’re encouraging Ms. Iparis to do, especially with your parents gone."

"You still have time," Tess says to me.

"You sure you can make it by yourself?" she asks.

"You think I can keep that from him? Everyone’s heard about the break-in at the hospital by now, and John knows you’re hurt. He’s pretty angry about it."

"You think I did this?"

"You think the Republic is intentionally poisoning people? Day, you’re on dangerous ground."

"You think we go to labor camps if we fail? June, the only labor camps are the morgues in hospital basements."

"You threw everything away." I bring a hand up to touch her face, to wipe rain from her eyelashes.

"You try to walk in the light."

"You wait here. I’ll follow him. Keep low and stay quiet—someone will come back for you."

"You want a sip?" he asks me.

"You want your family to be safe. I understand that," she continues.

"You weren’t home last night."

"You won’t find it if you haven’t found it yet."

"You, there," he calls out.

"You. You’re just a kid—you never even went to college, you failed your Trial! How were you ever able to outsmart soldiers on the streets? How do you cause so much trouble?" She bares her teeth at me.

"Your Republic gave me that, too. On the same night I got my eye imperfection."

"Your Republic won’t last another decade. And all the better, too—once the Colonies take over your land, they’ll make better use of it than you have—"

"Your brother, Metias, is dead," she says.

"Your brother. I didn’t kill him—I couldn’t have. Unlike you trigger-happy trots, I don’t kill people."

"Your cloak knot. Don’t know what it is, but it sure doesn’t look civilian."

"Your entire life—your beliefs . . . Why would you do that for me?"

"Your face looks awful." There’s concern—and something else—in her expression.

"Your family had their door marked, didn’t they?"

"You’ll have your troops," he manages to say.

"You’ll need better reflexes than that if you want to pass your Trial’s physical tier."

"You’re a Republic soldier, and you turned Day in. Why should we trust you?"

"You’re a perceptive one, Girl," the boy says quietly.

"You’re a scary kid. So scare them. Okay? All the way until the end."

"You’re absolutely sure."

"You’re all dismissed for now. Tell your men to get some water and shade. And send an order up for your replacements to come early."

"You’re awake," he says to me.

"You’re awake."

"You’re being careful, right?" he asks.

"You’re brilliant," he says.

"You’re completely cracked. Listen to me, and listen to me good. All right? You never fight back. Ever. You do what the officers tell you, and you don’t argue with them." Some of the anger fades from his eyes.

"You’re delirious," I reply.

"You’re free. Get out of California while you can. They’ll keep hunting for us."

"You’re in Batalla Hall’s hospital wing. Agent Iparis ordered me to fix up your leg. Apparently we’re not allowed to let you die before your formal execution."

"You’re living a sweet life, you know. Tucked in a cozy apartment in some rich sector. You know if the Republic finds out you’ve been talking to me, they’ll put you in front of a firing squad. Same as Day."

"You’re lucky to have her with you." My eyes go to his leg.

"You’re lucky, then." I grow serious.

"You’re nearsighted. How can you see so much of what’s around you?"

"You’re not alone out there unless you choose to be."

"You’re not from the Lake sector, are you?"

"You’re not going to leave me too, are you? You’ll stay with me longer than Mom and Dad did?"

"You’re not going to take me in alive."

"You’re right," I say without missing a beat.

"You’re so kind," she says.

"You’re suicidal. You know how impossible this sounds?"

"You’re too late," she says.

"You’re very attractive."

"You’re very kind," I reply.

"You’re wasting your time," I call back to him.

"You’ve been knocked out for over two days. How are you feeling?"

"Yup," I murmur.

"—and to report any suspicious activity immediately to the street police or to the police headquarters closest to you. This officially concludes our sentencing."

"—by firing squad, to be carried out four days from today, on December twenty-seventh at six P.M., Ocean Standard Time, in an undisclosed location—"

"—from around the lake’s edge." The man tightens his gloves.

"—to be broadcast live across the city. Civilians are encouraged to stay vigilant for any possible criminal activity that may occur before and after the event—"

("The shutters on that building’s third-floor windows must’ve been scavenged from a rich sector. Solid cherrywood.")

(A serrated knife, just as I thought. Kaede is not a normal street beggar. She has the skills to get her hands on a nice weapon like that—which means she might be in the same line of business as Day. If I weren’t undercover, I’d arrest her right now and take her in for questioning.)

(Actually, she finds me.)

(Brass buttons, military boots, a blue pin on his sleeve. Which means he had disguised himself as a soldier, and we caught him near San Diego, the only city that requires everyone to wear those blue pins. I can tell what gave him away too. One of the brass buttons looks slightly flatter than those made in the Republic. He must have stitched on that button by himself—a button from an old Colonies uniform. Stupid. A mistake only a Colonies spy would make.)

(Can’t these street beggars stay a little farther from our jeep?)

(Eleven seconds so far. One hundred and nine seconds left before guns are functional again.)

(He’s discovered his gun is useless.)

(His accent’s from Ruby sector, and his uniform’s row of buttons are freshly polished. Pays attention to details.)

(I don’t know why, but she’s crazy good at this game.)

(I know why we’re down here now. They’ve discovered the missing electro-bomb that I gave to Kaede. Normally, inventory check wouldn’t happen until the end of the month. But Thomas must’ve had it done this morning.)

(Male. He has a light accent—he’s not from Oregon or Nevada or Arizona or New Mexico or West Texas or any other Republic state. Native Southern Californian. He uses the familiar term cousin, something Lake sector civilians often use. He’s close enough to have seen me put the vial away. He’s not so close that the speakers can catch his voice clearly. He must be on an adjacent block with a good vantage point—a high floor.)

(Ninety-seven seconds left. Thirty-three soldiers heading opposite me—twelve heading in my direction—some flat screens have gone dark—must be the power cut—others show pandemonium in the crowd outside—something’s falling from the sky into the square—money! The Patriots are raining money down from the roofs. Half the crowd’s fighting to get out of the square while the other half’s scrambling for the Notes.)

(Not his first time. He’s definitely kissed other girls before, and quite a few at that. He’s—he seems like he’s short of breath. . . . )

(Notes, not Republic gold. He robs the upper class but doesn’t have the ability to rob the extremely wealthy. He’s probably a one-man operation.)

(Perhaps fifteen stories tall, judging from how the buildings on the shore sit and how the land slopes from the shoreline. Approximately six stories should be underwater.)

(Six feet long, human; feet and limbs look intact under the cloth; definitely didn’t fall naturally like that, so someone had to lay him out.)

(So far, every Patriot we’ve hunted down has killed himself before getting taken in.)

(That’s what the clicking sound was. He’s rewired the speakers so he can talk to me without giving away his location.)

(The Patriots. The electro-bomb. They’ve set it off in the square. They came after all, right on schedule, right before Day is to enter the firing squad yard. Which means all the guns in this building should be disabled for exactly two minutes. Thank you, Kaede.)

(The alley is narrow. He could have found enough footholds to jump his way up the walls to the second or third floors—all while using the guards’ weapons against them. Probably got them to shoot at each other. Probably smashed through a window. That would’ve taken just a few seconds. What he did once he got inside, I have no idea.)

(There is a streak of black grease on his forehead, probably from his own index finger. Which means he just finished polishing his rifle earlier in the evening, and his patrol’s inspection is tomorrow.)

(They have blue stripes on their sleeves—soldiers back from the warfront, or soldiers rotating out to the warfront. They keep their guns by their sides, with both hands on the weapon.)

(Waiting room is empty; they’ve cleared out all patients; guards are clustered near the stairwell entrance; that’s probably where the crime scene starts.)

(We’re covering about 5 feet a second; 27 times 5 equals 135 feet. In 135 feet, guns will be reactivated. I can already hear soldiers’ boots in the corridors adjacent to ours, pounding on the floor. Probably searching for us. We need at least 23 more seconds to get to the doors before they catch us in this hall. They’ll shoot us dead long before we can get out.)

, the soldiers remove my shackles and unchain me from my prison wall.

------------------------------------–

0001 HOURS.

0100 HOURS.

0317 HOURS.

0625 HOURS.

0800 HOURS.

1.

1347 HOURS.

1912 HOURS.

2.

200,000 REPUBLIC NOTES FOR

2329 HOURS.

2340 HOURS.

26

318

3A

52°F.

64°F OUTSIDE.

72°F INDOORS.

78°F.

A CRACK OF LIGHTNING, AN EXPLOSION OF THUNDER, the sound of pounding rain.

A Republic agent is going to help me escape.

A Sunday afternoon.

A bad fall, maybe.

A beautiful mystery.

A bird on one side, a man’s profile on the other.

A bit of gel comes off on his glove.

A black mask covers my face and infrared goggles shield my eyes.

A body.

A bottle of nectar wine sits between us.

A breath.

A bright afternoon in Lake sector.

A bright streak of blood stains one thick strand of my hair, painting a dark red streak into it.

A clicking sound echoes from somewhere far away, and the cat sitting on the trash can makes a run for it.

A couple of soldiers try to help her, but she shoves them away.

A cracked thought hits me and I want to laugh.

A criminal, a fugitive.

A dagger.

A dark, long-sleeved shirt is tied around my waist.

A decades-old car rattles by.

A deep gash runs across her shoulder, staining her shirt with blood.

A deep scarlet rage flashes across his face.

A dirty pair of goggles—probably protection against bar fights—hangs around her neck.