ALSOBYMARIELU

LEGENDPRODIGY

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Summary:“JuneandDayhavesacrificedsomuchforthepeopleoftheRepublic—andeachother—andnowtheircountryisonthebrinkofanewexistence.Justwhenapeacetreatyisimminent,aplagueoutbreakcausespanicintheColonies,andwarthreatenstheRepublic’sbordercities”—Providedby

publisher.[1.Plague—Fiction.2.Love—Fiction.3.Sciencefiction.]I.Title.

PZ7.L96768Ch2013[Fic]—dc232013028221

ISBN978-0-698-13541-3MapillustrationbyPeterBollinger.

Thepublisherdoesnothaveanycontroloveranddoesnotassumeanyresponsibilityforauthororthird-

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Contents

AlsobyMarieLuTitlePageCopyrightDedicationMapDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJuneDayJune

DayJuneTenYearsLaterAcknowledgments

SANFRANCISCO,CALIFORNIAREPUBLICOFAMERICA

POPULATION:24,646,320

OUTOFALLTHEDISGUISESI’VEWORN,THISONEmightbemyfavorite.

Darkredhair,differentenoughfrommyusualwhite-blond,cuttojustpastmyshouldersandpulledbackintoatail.Greencontactsthatlooknaturalwhenlayeredovermyblueeyes.Acrumpled,half-tuckedcollarshirt,itstinysilverbuttonsshininginthedark,athinmilitaryjacket,blackpantsandsteel-toedboots,athickgrayscarfwrappedaroundmyneck,chin,andmouth.Adarksoldiercapispulledlowovermyforehead,andacrimson,paintedtattoostretchesalloverthelefthalfofmyface,changingmeintosomeoneunfamiliar.Asidefromthis,Iwearanever-presentearpieceandmike.TheRepublicinsistsonit.

Inmostothercities,I’dprobablygetevenmorestaresthanIusuallydobecauseofthatgiantgoddytattoo—notexactlyasubtlemarker,Igottaadmit.ButhereinSanFrancisco,Iblendrightinwiththeothers.ThefirstthingInoticedwhenEdenandImovedtoFriscoeightmonthsagowasthelocaltrend:youngpeoplepaintingblackorredpatternsontheirfaces,somesmallanddelicate,likeRepublicsealsontheirtemplesorsomethingsimilar,othershugeandsprawling,likegiantpatternsoftheRepublic’slandshape.Ichoseaprettygenerictattootonight,becauseI’mnotloyalenoughtotheRepublictostampthatloyaltyrightonmyface.LeavethattoJune.Instead,Ihavestylizedflames.Goodenough.

Myinsomnia’sactinguptonight,soinsteadofsleeping,I’mwalkingalonethroughasectorcalledMarina,whichasfarasIcantellisthehillier,FriscoequivalentofLA’sLakesector.Thenight’scoolandprettyquiet,andalightdrizzleisblowinginfromthecity’sbay.Thestreetsarenarrow,glisteningwet,andriddledwithpotholes,andthebuildingsthatriseuponbothsides—mostofthemtallenoughtovanishintotonight’slow-lyingclouds—areeclectic,paintedwithfadingredandgoldandblack,theirsidesfortifiedwithenormoussteelbeamstocountertheearthquakesthatroll

througheverycoupleofmonths.JumboTronsfiveorsixstorieshighsitoneveryotherblock,blaringtheusualbarrageofRepublicnews.Theairsmellssaltyandbitter,likesmokeandindustrialwastemixedwithseawater,andsomewhereinthere,afaintwhiffoffriedfish.Sometimes,whenIturndownacorner,I’llsuddenlyendupcloseenoughtothewater’sedgetogetmybootswet.Herethelandslopesrightintothebayandhundredsofbuildingspokeouthalfsubmergedalongthehorizon.WheneverIgetaviewofthebay,IcanalsoseetheGoldenGateRuins,thetwistedremnantsofsomeoldbridgeallpiledupalongtheothersideoftheshore.Ahandfulofpeoplejostlepastmenowandthen,butforthemostpartthecityisasleep.Scatteredbonfireslightalleyways,gatheringspotsforthesector’sstreetfolks.It’snotthatdifferentfromLake.

Well—Iguesstherearesomedifferencesnow.TheSanFranciscoTrialStadium,forone,whichsitsemptyandunlitoffinthedistance.Fewerstreetpoliceinthepoorsectors.Thecity’sgraffiti.Youcanalwaysgetanideaofhowthepeoplearefeelingbylookingattherecentgraffiti.AlotofthemessagesI’veseenlatelyactuallysupporttheRepublic’snewElector.Heisourhope,saysonemessagescrawledonthesideofabuilding.Anotherpaintedonthestreetreads:TheElectorwillguideusoutofthedarkness.Alittletoooptimistic,ifyouaskme,butIguessthey’regoodsigns.Andenmustbedoingsomethingright.Andyet.Everynowandthen,I’llalsoseemessagesthatsay,TheElector’sahoax,orBrainwashed,orTheDayweknewisdead.

Idon’tknow.SometimesthisnewtrustbetweenAndenandthepeoplefeelslikeastring...andIamthatstring.Besides,maybethehappygraffiti’sfake,paintedbypropagandaofficers.Whynot?

YouneverknowwiththeRepublic.EdenandI,ofcourse,haveaFriscoapartmentinarichsectorcalled

Pacifica,wherewestaywithourcaretaker,Lucy.TheRepublic’sgottatakecareofitssixteen-year-oldmost-wanted-criminal-turned-national-hero,doesn’tit?IrememberhowmuchIdistrustedLucy—astern,stout,fifty-two-year-oldladydressedinclassicRepubliccolors—whenshefirstshowedupatourdoorinDenver.“TheRepublichasassignedmetoassistyouboys,”shetoldmeasshebustledintoourapartment.HereyeshadsettledimmediatelyonEden.“Especiallythelittleone.”

Yeah.Thatdidn’tsitwellwithme.Firstofall,it’dtakenmetwomonthsbeforeIcouldevenletEdenoutofmysight.Weatesidebyside;weslept

sidebyside;hewasneveralone.I’dgoneasfarasstandingoutsidehisbathroomdoor,asifRepublicsoldierswouldsomehowsuckhimoutthroughavent,takehimbacktoalab,andhookhimuptoabunchofmachines.

“Edendoesn’tneedyou,”I’dsnappedatLucy.“He’sgotme.Itakecareofhim.”

Butmyhealthstartedfluctuatingafterthosefirstcoupleofmonths.SomedaysIfeltfine;otherdays,I’dbestuckinbedwithacripplingheadache.Onthosebaddays,Lucywouldtakeover—andafterafewshoutingmatches,sheandIsettledintoagrudgingroutine.Shedoesmakeprettyawesomemeatpies.AndwhenwemovedheretoFrisco,shecamewithus.SheguidesEden.Shemanagesmymedications.

WhenI’mfinallytiredofwalking,InoticethatI’vewanderedrightoutofMarinaandintoawealthierneighboringdistrict.IstopinfrontofaclubwithTHEOBSIDIANLOUNGEscoredintoametalslaboveritsdoor.Islideagainstthewallintoasittingposition,myarmsrestingonmyknees,andfeelthemusic’svibrations.Mymetallegisice-coldthroughthefabricofmytrousers.Onthewallacrossfromme,graffitiscrawledinredreads,Day=Traitor.Isigh,takeasilvertinfrommypocket,andpulloutalongcigarette.IrunafingeracrosstheSANFRANCISCOCENTRALHOSPITALtextimprinteddownitslength.Prescriptioncigarettes.Doctor’sorders,yeah?Iputittomylipswithtremblingfingersandlightitup.Closeeyes.Takeapuff.GraduallyIlosemyselfinthecloudsofbluesmoke,waitingforthesweet,hallucinogeniceffectstowashoverme.

Doesn’ttakelongtonight.Soontheconstant,dullheadachedisappears,andtheworldaroundmetakesonablurrysheenthatIknowisn’tonlyfromtherain.Agirl’ssittingnexttome.It’sTess.

ShegivesmethegrinIwassofamiliarwithbackonthestreetsofLake.“AnynewsfromtheJumboTrons?”sheasksme,pointingtowardascreenacrosstheroad.

Iexhalebluesmokeandlazilyshakemyhead.“Nope.Imean,I’veseenacoupleofPatriot-relatedheadlines,butit’slikeyouguysvanishedoffthemap.Whereareyou?Whereareyougoing?”

“Doyoumissme?”Tessasksinsteadofanswering.Istareattheshimmeryimageofher.She’showIrememberfromthe

streets—herreddish-brownhairtiedintoamessybraid,hereyeslargeandluminous,kindandgentle.LittlebabyTess.Whatweremylastwordsto

her...backwhenwehadbotchedthePatriots’assassinationattemptonAnden?Please,Tess—Ican’tleaveyouhere.Butthat’sexactlywhatIdid.

Iturnaway,takinganotherdragonmycigarette.DoImissher?“Everyday,”Ireply.

“You’vebeentryingtofindme,”Tesssays,scootingcloser.IswearIcanalmostfeelhershoulderagainstmine.“I’veseenyou,scouringtheJumboTronsandairwavesfornews,eavesdroppingonthestreets.ButthePatriotsareinhidingrightnow.”

Ofcoursethey’reinhiding.Whywouldtheyattack,nowthatAnden’sinpowerandapeacetreatybetweentheRepublicandtheColoniesisadonedeal?Whatcouldtheirnewcausepossiblybe?Ihavenoidea.Maybetheydon’thaveone.Maybetheydon’tevenexistanymore.“Iwishyouwouldcomeback,”ImurmurtoTess.“It’dbenicetoseeyouagain.”

“WhataboutJune?”Assheasksthis,herimagevanishes.She’sreplacedbyJune,withher

longponytailandherdarkeyesthatshinewithhintsofgold,seriousandanalyzing,alwaysanalyzing.Ileanmyheadagainstmykneeandclosemyeyes.EventheillusionofJuneisenoughtosendastabbingpainthroughmychest.Hell.Imisshersomuch.

IrememberhowI’dsaidgood-byetoherbackinDenver,beforeEdenandImovedtoFrisco.“I’msurewe’llbeback,”I’dtoldherovermymike,tryingtofilltheawkwardsilencebetweenus.“AfterEden’streatmentisdone.”Thiswasalie,ofcourse.WeweregoingtoFriscoformytreatment,notEden’s.ButJunedidn’tknowthis,soshejustsaid,“Comebacksoon.”

Thatwasalmosteightmonthsago.Ihaven’theardfromhersince.Idon’tknowifit’sbecauseeachofusistoohesitanttobothertheother,tooafraidthattheotherdoesn’twanttotalk,ormaybebothofusarejusttoodamnproudtobetheonedesperateenoughtoreachout.Maybeshe’sjustnotinterestedenough.Butyouknowhowitgoes.Aweekpasseswithoutcontact,andthenamonth,andsoontoomuchtimehaspassedandcallingherwouldjustfeelrandomandweird.SoIdon’t.Besides,whatwouldIsay?Don’tworry,doctorsarefightingtosavemylife.Don’tworry,they’retryingtoshrinktheproblemareainmybrainwithagiantpileofmedicationbeforeattemptinganoperation.Don’tworry,Antarcticamightgrantmeaccesstotreatmentintheirsuperiorhospitals.Don’tworry,I’llbejustfine.

What’sthepointofkeepingintouchwiththegirlyou’recrazyabout,

whenyou’redying?Theremindersendsathrobbingpainthroughthebackofmyhead.“It’s

betterthisway,”Itellmyselfforthehundredthtime.Anditis.Bynotseeingherforsolong,thememoryofhowwe’doriginallymethasgrowndimmer,andIfindmyselfthinkingaboutherconnectiontomyfamily’sdeathslessoften.

UnlikeTess’s,forsomereasonJune’simageneversaysaword.Itrytoignoretheshimmerymirage,butsherefusestogoaway.Sodamnstubborn.

Finally,Istand,stubmycigaretteintothepavement,andstepthroughthedooroftheObsidianLounge.Maybethemusicandlightswillshakeherfrommysystem.

Foraninstant,Ican’tseeathing.Theclubispitch-black,andthesound’sdeafening.I’mstoppedimmediatelybyanenormouspairofsoldiers.Oneofthemputsafirmhandonmyshoulder.“Nameandbranch?”heasks.

Ihavenointerestinmakingmyrealidentityknown.“CorporalSchuster.Airforce,”Ireply,blurtingoutarandomnameandthefirstbranchthatcomestomind.Ialwaysthinkoftheairforcefirst,mostlybecauseofKaede.“I’mstationedatNavalBaseTwo.”

Theguardnods.“Airforcekidsoverinthebackleft,nearthebathrooms.AndifIhearyoupickinganyfightswiththearmybooths,you’reoutandyourcommanderhearsaboutitinthemorning.Gotit?”

Inod,andthesoldiersletmepass.Iwalkdownadarkhallandthroughaseconddoor,thenmeltintothecrowdsandflashinglightsinside.

Thedancefloorisjammedwithpeopleinlooseshirtsandrolled-upsleeves,dressespairedwithrumpleduniforms.Ifindtheairforceboothsinthebackoftheroom.Good,thereareseveralemptyones.Islideintoabooth,propupmybootsagainstthecushionedseats,andleanmyheadback.AtleastJune’simagehasdisappeared.Theloudmusicsendsallmythoughtsscattering.

I’veonlybeenintheboothforafewminuteswhenagirlcutsherwaythroughthecrowdeddancefloorandstumblestowardme.Shelooksflushed,hereyesbrightandteasing;andwhenIglancebehindher,Inoticeaclusteroflaughinggirlswatchingus.Iforceasmile.Usually,Iliketheattentioninclubs,butsometimes,Ijustwanttoclosemyeyesandletthechaostakemeaway.

Sheleansoverandpressesherlipsagainstmyear.“Excuseme,”she

shoutsoverthenoise.“Mygirlfriendswanttoknowifyou’reDay.”I’vebeenrecognizedalready?Ishrinkinstinctivelyawayandshakemy

headsotheotherscansee.“Yougotthewrongguy,”Ireplywithawrygrin.“Butthanksforthecompliment.”

Thegirl’sfaceisalmostentirelycoveredinshadows,butevenso,Icantellshe’sblushingfuriously.Herfriendsburstoutlaughing.Noneofthemlookliketheybelievemydenial.“Wanttodance?”thegirlasks.Sheglancesoverhershouldertowardtheflashingblueandgoldlights,thenbackatme.Thismustbesomethingherfriendsdaredhertodotoo.

AsI’mtryingtothinkupsomesortofpoliterefusal,Itakeinthegirl’sappearance.Theclub’stoodarkformetogetagoodlookather,andallIseeareglimpsesofneonhighlightsonherskinandlongponytail,herglossylipscurvedintoasmile,herbodyleanandsmoothinashortdressandmilitaryboots.Myrefusalfadesonmytongue.SomethingaboutherremindsmeofJune.IntheeightmonthssinceJunefirstbecameaPrinceps-Elect,Ihaven’tfeltexcitedaboutmanygirls—butnow,withthisshadowydoppelgängerbeckoningmeontothedancefloor,Iletmyselffeelhopefulagain.

“Yeah,whynot?”Isay.Thegirlbreaksintoawidesmile.WhenIgetupfromtheboothand

takeherhand,herfriendsallletoutagaspofsurprise,followedbyaloudcheer.Thegirlleadsmethroughthem,andbeforeIknowit,we’vepushedourwayintothecrowdsandcarvedoutatinyspacerightinthemiddleoftheaction.

Ipressmyselfagainsther,sherunsahandalongthebackofmyneck,andweletthepoundingbeatcarryusaway.She’scute,Iadmittomyself,blindedinthisseaoflightsandlimbs.Thesongchanges,thenchangesagain.Ihavenoideahowlongwe’relostlikethis,butwhensheleansforwardandbrushesherlipsovermyown,Iclosemyeyesandlether.Ievenfeelashiverrundownmyspine.Shekissesmetwice,hermouthsoftandliquid,hertonguetastingofvodkaandfruit.Iflattenonehandagainstthesmallofthegirl’sbackandpullhercloser,untilherbody’ssolidlyagainstmine.Herkissesgrowmoreurgent.SheisJune,Itellmyself,choosingtoindulgeinthefantasy.Withmyeyesclosed,mymindstillhazyfrommycigarette’shallucinogens,Icanbelieveitforamoment—Icanpictureherkissingmehere,takingeverylastbreathfrommylungs.Thegirlprobablysensesthechangeinmymovements,mysuddenhungerand

desire,becauseshegrinsagainstmylips.SheisJune.ItisJune’sdarkhairthatbrushesagainstmyface,June’slonglashesthattouchmycheeks,June’sarmwrappedaroundmyneck,June’sbodyslidingagainstmine.Asoftmoanescapesme.

“Comeon,”shewhispers.Mischieflacesherwords.“Let’sgogetsomeair.”

Howlonghasitbeen?Idon’twanttoleave,becauseitmeansI’llhavetoopenmyeyesandJunewillbegone,replacedwiththisgirlthatIdon’tknow.ButshepullsonmyhandandI’mforcedtolookaround.Juneisnowheretobeseen,ofcourse.Theclub’slightsflashandI’mmomentarilyblinded.Sheguidesmethroughthethrongsofdancers,downtheclub’sdarkhallway,andoutanunmarkedbackdoor.Westepintoaquietbackalley.Afewweakspotlightsshinedownalongthepath,givingeverythinganeerie,greenishglow.

Shepushesmeagainstthewallanddrownsmeinanotherkiss.Herskinismoist,andIfeelhergoosebumpsrisebeneathmytouch.Ikissherback,andasmalllaughofsurpriseescapesherwhenIflipusaroundandpinheragainstthewall.

She’sJune,Itellmyselfonrepeat.Mylipsworkgreedilyalongherneck,tastingsmokeandperfume.

Faintstaticsizzlesinmyearpiece,thesoundofrainandfryingeggs.Itrytoignoretheincomingcall,evenasaman’svoicefillsmyears.Talkaboutabuzzkill.“Mr.Wing,”hesays.

Idon’tanswerit.Goaway.I’mbusy.Afewsecondslater,thevoicestartsupagain.“Mr.Wing,thisisCaptain

DavidGuzmanofDenverCityPatrolFourteen.Iknowyou’rethere.”Oh,thisguy.Thispoorcaptain’salwaystheonetaskedwithtryingtoget

holdofme.Isighandbreakawayfromthegirl.“Sorry,”Isaybreathlessly.Igive

heranapologeticfrownandgestureatmyear.“Givemeaminute?”Shesmilesandsmoothesdownherdress.“I’llbeinside,”shereplies.

“Lookforme.”Thenshestepsthroughthedoorandbackintotheclub.Iturnmymikeonandstartslowlypacingupanddownthealley.“What

doyouwant?”Isayinanannoyedwhisper.Thecaptainsighsovertheearpieceandlaunchesintohismessage.“Mr.

Wing,yourpresenceisrequestedinDenvertomorrownight,onIndependenceDay,attheCapitolTower’sballroom.Asalways,youarefree

toturndowntherequest—asyouusuallydo,”hemuttersunderhisbreath.“However,thisbanquetisanexceptionalmeetingofgreatimportance.Shouldyouchoosetoattend,we’llhaveaprivatejetwaitingforyouinthemorning.”

Anexceptionalmeetingofgreatimportance?Everheardsomanyfancywordsinonesentence?Irollmyeyes.Everymonthorso,Igetaninvitationtosomegoddycapitalevent,likeaballforallthehigh-rankingwargeneralsorthecelebrationtheyheldwhenAndenfinallyendedtheTrials.Buttheonlyreasontheywantmetogotothesethingsissotheycanshowmeoffandremindthepeople,“Look,justincaseyouforgot,Dayisonourside!”Don’tpushyourluck,Anden.

“Mr.Wing,”thecaptainsayswhenIstaysilent,asifhe’sresortingtosomefinalargument,“thegloriousElectorpersonallyrequestsyourpresence.SodoesthePrinceps-Elect.”

ThePrinceps-Elect.Mybootscrunchtoahaltinthemiddleofthealley.Iforgettobreathe.Don’tgettooexcited—afterall,therearethreePrinceps-Elects,andhe

mightbereferringtoanyoneofthem.AfewsecondspassbeforeIfinallyask,“WhichPrinceps-Elect?”

“Theonewhoactuallymatterstoyou.”Mycheekswarmatthetauntinhisvoice.“June?”“Yes,Ms.JuneIparis,”thecaptainreplies.Hesoundsrelievedtofinally

havemyattention.“Shewantedtomakeitapersonalrequestthistime.ShewouldverymuchliketoseeyouattheCapitolTower’sbanquet.”

Myheadaches,andIfighttosteadymybreathing.Allthoughtsofthegirlintheclubgooutthewindow.Junehasnotpersonallyaskedformeineightmonths—thisisthefirsttimethatshe’srequestedIattendapublicfunction.“What’sthisfor?”Iask.“JustanIndependenceDayparty?Whysoimportant?”

Thecaptainhesitates.“It’samatterofnationalsecurity.”“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”Myinitialexcitementslowlywanes—

maybehe’sjustbluffing.“Look,Captain,I’vegotsomeunfinishedbusinesstotakecareof.Tryconvincingmeagaininthemorning.”

Thecaptaincursesunderhisbreath.“Fine,Mr.Wing.Haveityourway.”HemumblessomethingIcan’tquitemakeout,thengoesoffline.Ifrowninexasperationasmyinitialexcitementfadesawayintoasinkingdisappointment.MaybeIshouldheadhomenow.It’stimeformetogoback

andcheckuponEden,anyway.Whatajoke.Chancesarehe’sprobablylyingaboutJune’srequestinthefirstplace,becauseifshe’dreallywantedmetogobacktothecapitalthatbadly,she—

“Day?”Anewvoicecomesovermyearpiece.Ifreeze.Havethehallucinogensfromthemedswornoffyet?DidIjustimagine

hervoice?EventhoughIhaven’thearditinalmostayear,Iwouldrecognizeitanywhere,andthesoundaloneisenoughtoconjuretheimageofJunestandingbeforeme,asifI’drunacrossherbychanceinthisalley.Please,don’tletitbeher.Please,letitbeher.

Didhervoicealwayshavethiseffectonme?IhavenoideahowlongIwasfrozenlikethis,butitmust’vebeena

while,becausesherepeats,“Day,it’sme.June.Areyouthere?”Ashiverrunsthroughme.

Thisisreal.It’sreallyher.HertoneisdifferentfromwhatIremember.Hesitantandformal,like

she’sspeakingtoastranger.Ifinallymanagetocomposemyselfandclickmymikebackon.“I’mhere,”Ireply.Myowntoneisdifferenttoo—justashesitant,justasformal.Ihopeshedoesn’theartheslighttremorinit.

There’sashortpauseontheothersidebeforeJunecontinues.“Hi.”Thenalongsilence,followedby,“Howareyou?”

SuddenlyIfeelastormofwordsbuildingupinsideme,threateningtopourout.Iwanttoblurtouteverything:I’vethoughtaboutyoueverydaysincethatfinalfarewellbetweenus,I’msorryfornotcontactingyou,Iwishyouhadcontactedme.Imissyou.Imissyou.

Idon’tsayanyofthis.Instead,theonlythingImanageis,“Fine.What’sup?”

Shepauses.“Oh.That’sgood.Iapologizeforthelatecall,asI’msureyou’retryingtosleep.ButtheSenateandtheElectorhaveaskedmetosendthisrequesttoyoupersonally.Iwouldn’tdoitunlessIfeltitwastrulyimportant.DenveristhrowingaballforIndependenceDay,andduringtheevent,we’llbehavinganemergencymeeting.Weneedyouinattendance.”

“Why?”GuessI’veresortedtoone-wordreplies.Forsomereason,it’sallIcanthinkofwithJune’svoiceontheline.

Sheexhales,sendingafaintburstofstaticthroughtheearpiece,andthensays,“You’veheardaboutthepeacetreatybeingdraftedbetweentheRepublicandtheColonies,right?”

“Yeah,ofcourse.”Everyoneinthecountryknowsaboutthat:ourpreciouslittleAnden’sgreatestambition,toendthewarthat’sbeengoingonforwhoknowshowlong.Andsofar,thingsseemtobegoingintherightdirection,wellenoughthatthewarfronthasbeenataquietstalemateforthepastfourmonths.Whoknewadaylikethatcouldcome,justlikehowwe’dneverexpectedtoseetheTrialstadiumssittingunusedacrossthecountry.“SeemsliketheElector’sontracktobecomingtheRepublic’shero,yeah?”

“Don’tspeaktoosoon.”June’swordsdarken,andIfeellikeIcanseeherexpressionthroughtheearpiece.“YesterdaywereceivedanangrytransmissionfromtheColonies.There’saplaguespreadingthroughtheirwarfrontcities,andtheybelieveitwascausedbysomeofthebiologicalweaponswe’dsentacrosstheirborders.They’veeventracedtheserialnumbersontheshellsoftheweaponstheybelievestartedthisplague.”

Herwordsareturningmuffledthroughtheshockinmymind,thefogthat’sbringingbackmemoriesofEdenandhisblack,bleedingeyes,ofthatboyonthetrainwhowasbeingusedasapartofthewarfare.“Doesthatmeanthepeacetreatyisoff?”Iask.

“Yes.”June’svoicefalls.“TheColoniessaytheplagueisanofficialactofwaragainstthem.”

“Andwhatdoesthishavetodowithme?”Anotherlong,ominouspause.ItfillsmewithdreadsoicycoldthatIfeel

likemyfingersareturningnumb.Theplague.It’shappening.It’sallcomefullcircle.

“I’lltellyouwhenyougethere,”Junefinallysays.“Bestnottotalkaboutitoverearpieces.”

IDESPISEMYFIRSTCONVERSATIONWITHDAYAFTEReightmonthsofnocommunication.Ihateit.WhendidIbecomesomanipulative?WhymustIalwaysusehisweaknessesagainsthim?

Lastnightat2306hours,Andencametomyapartmentcomplexandknockedonmydoor.Alone.Idon’teventhinkguardswerestationedinthehallwayforhisprotection.Itwasmyfirstwarningthatwhateverheneededtotellmehadtobeimportant—andsecret.

“Ihavetoaskafavorofyou,”hesaidasIlethimin.AndenhasalmostperfectedtheartofbeingayoungElector(calm,cool,collected,aproudchinunderstress,anevenvoicewhenangered),butthistimeIcouldseethedeepworryinhiseyes.Evenmydog,Ollie,couldtellthatAndenwastroubled,andtriedreassuringhimbypushinghiswetnoseagainstAnden’shand.

InudgedOllieawaybeforeturningbacktoAnden.“Whatisit?”Iasked.Andenranahandthroughhisdarkcurls.“Idon’tmeantodisturbyousolate

atnight,”hesaid,leaninghisheaddowntowardmineinquietconcern.“ButI’mafraidthisisnotaconversationthatcanwait.”HestoodcloseenoughsothatifIwantedto,Icouldtiltmyfaceupandaccidentallybrushmylipsagainsthis.Myheartbeatquickenedatthethought.

Andenseemedtosensethetensioninmypose,becausehetookanapologeticstepawayandgavememoreroomtobreathe.Ifeltastrangemixtureofreliefanddisappointment.“Thepeacetreatyisover,”hewhispered.“TheColoniesarepreparingtodeclarewaragainstusonceagain.”

“What?”Iwhisperedback.“Why?What’shappened?”“Wordfrommygeneralsisthatacoupleofweeksago,adeadlyvirusstarted

sweepingthroughtheColonies’warfrontlikewildfire.”Whenhesawmyeyeswideninunderstanding,henodded.Helookedsoweary,burdenedwiththeweightofanentirenation’ssafety.“ApparentlyIwastoolateinwithdrawingourbiologicalweaponsfromthewarfront.”

Eden.TheexperimentalvirusesthatAnden’sfatherhadusedinattemptstocauseaplagueintheColonies.Formonths,I’dtriedtopushthattothebackofmymind—afterall,Edenwassafenow,underthecareofDayand,lastIheard,slowlyadjustingtosemblancesofanormallife.Forthelastfewmonths,thewarfronthadstoodsilentwhileAndenattemptedtohashoutapeacetreatywiththeColonies.I’dthoughtthatwewouldbelucky,thatnothingwouldcomeoutofthatbiologicalwarfare.Wishfulthinking.

“DotheSenatorsknow?”Iaskedafterawhile.“OrtheotherPrinceps-Elects?Whyareyoutellingmethis?I’mhardlyyourclosestadvisor.”

Andensighedandsqueezedthebridgeofhisnose.“Forgiveme.IwishIdidn’thavetoinvolveyouinthis.TheColoniesbelievethatwehavethecuretothisvirusinourlaboratoriesandaresimplywithholdingit.Theydemandweshareit,orelsetheyputalloftheirstrengthbehindafull-scaleinvasionoftheRepublic.Andthistime,itwon’tbeareturntoouroldwar.TheColonieshavesecuredanally.TheystruckatradedealwithAfrica—theColoniesgetmilitaryhelp,andinreturn,Africagetshalfourland.”

Afeelingofforebodingcreptoverme.Evenwithouthimsayingit,Icouldtellwherethiswasgoing.“Wedon’thaveacure,dowe?”

“No.Butwedoknowwhichformerpatientshavethepotentialtohelpusfindthatcure.”

Istartedshakingmyhead.WhenAndenreachedouttotouchmyelbow,Ijerkedaway.“Absolutelynot,”Isaid.“Youcan’taskthisofme.Iwon’tdoit.”

Andenlookedpained.“IhavecalledforaprivatebanquettomorrownighttogatherallofourSenators.WehavenochoiceifwewanttoputastoptothisandfindawaytosecurepeacewiththeColonies.”Histonegrewfirmer.“YouknowthisaswellasIdo.Iwanthimtoattendthisbanquetandhearusout.Weneedhispermissionifwe’regoingtogettoEden.”

He’sserious,Irealizedinshock.“You’llnevergethimtodoit.Yourealizethat,don’tyou?Thecountry’ssupportforyouisstillsoft,andDay’salliancewithyouishesitantatbest.Whatdoyouthinkhe’llsaytothis?Whatifyouangerhimenoughforhimtocallthepeopletoaction,totellthemtorebelagainstyou?Orworse—whatifheasksthemtosupporttheColonies?”

“Iknow.I’vethoughtthroughallofthis.”Andenrubbedhistemplesinexhaustion.“Iftherewasabetteroption,I’dtakeit.”

“Soyouwantmetomakehimagreetothis,”Iadded.Myirritationwastoostrongtobotherhiding.“Iwon’tdoit.GettheotherSenatorstoconvinceDay,ortryconvincinghimyourself.OrfindawaytoapologizetotheColonies’

Chancellor—askhimtonegotiatenewterms.”“YouareDay’sweakness,June.He’lllistentoyou.”Andenwincedevenas

hesaidthis,asifhedidn’twanttoadmitit.“Iknowhowthismakesmesound.Idon’twanttobecruel—Idon’twantDaytoseeusastheenemy.ButIwilldowhatittakestoprotecttheRepublic’speople.Otherwise,theColonieswillattack,andifthathappens,youknowit’slikelytheviruswillspreadhereaswell.”

Itwasworsethanthat,eventhoughAndendidn’tsayitaloud.IftheColoniesattackuswithAfricaattheirside,thenourmilitarymightnotbestrongenoughtoholdthemback.Thistime,theymightwin.He’lllistentoyou.Iclosedmyeyesandbowedmyhead.Ididn’twanttoadmitit,butIknewthatAndenwasright.

SoIdidasherequested.IcalledDayandaskedhimtoreturntothecapital.Justthethoughtofseeinghimagainleavesmyheartpounding,achingfromhisabsenceinmylifeoverthesepastmonths.Ihaven’tseenorspokentohimforsolong...andthisisgoingtobehowwereunite?Whatwillhethinkofmenow?

WhatwillhethinkoftheRepublicwhenhefindsoutwhattheywantwithhislittlebrother?

1201HOURS.DENVERCOUNTYCOURTOFFEDERALCRIME.72°FINDOORS.SIXHOURSUNTILISEEDAYATTHEEVENINGBALL.289DAYSAND12HOURSSINCEMETIAS’SDEATH.

ThomasandCommanderJamesonareontrialtoday.I’msotiredoftrials.Inthepastfourmonths,adozenformerSenatorshave

beentriedandconvictedofparticipatingintheplantoassassinateAnden,theplanthatDayandIhadbarelymanagedtostop.ThoseSenatorshaveallbeenexecuted.Razorhasalreadybeenexecuted.SometimesIfeellikesomeonenewisconvictedeachweek.

Buttoday’strialisdifferent.Iknowexactlywhoisbeingsentencedtoday,andwhy.

Isitinabalconyoverlookingthecourtroom’sroundstage,myhandsrestlessintheirwhitesilkgloves,mybodyconstantlyshiftinginmyvestandblackruffledcoat,mybootsquietlytappingagainstthebalconypillars.Mychairis

madeoutofsyntheticoakandcushionedwithsoft,scarletvelvet,butsomehowIjustcan’tmakemyselfcomfortable.Tokeepmyselfcalmandoccupied,I’mcarefullyentwiningfourstraightenedpaperclipsinmylaptoformasmallring.Twoguardsstandbehindme.Threecircularrowsofthecountry’stwenty-sixSenatorssurroundthestage,uniformintheirmatchingscarlet-and-blacksuits,theirsilverepaulettesreflectingthechamber’slight,theirvoicesechoingalongthearchedceilings.Theysoundlargelyindifferent,asifthey’remeetingabouttraderoutesinsteadofpeople’sfates.ManyarenewfacesthathavereplacedthetraitorSenators,whoAndenhasalreadycleanedout.I’mtheonewhosticksoutwithmyblack-and-goldoutfit(eventheseventy-sixsoldiersstandingguardherearecladinscarlet;twoforeachSenator,twoforme,twoforeachoftheotherPrinceps-Elects,fourforAnden,andfourteenatthechamber’sfrontandbackentrances,whichmeansthedefendants—ThomasandCommanderJameson—areconsideredfairlyhighriskandcouldpossiblymakeasuddenmove).

I’mnoSenator,clearly.IamaPrinceps-Electandneedtobedistinguishedassuch.

Twoothersinthechamberwearthesameblack-and-golduniformthatIdo.Myeyeswanderovertothemnow,wheretheysitonotherbalconies.AfterAndentappedmetotrainforthePrincepsposition,Congressurgedhimtoselectseveralothers.Afterall,youcannothaveonlyonepersonpreparingtobecometheleaderoftheSenate,especiallywhenthatpersonisasixteen-year-oldgirlwithoutashredofpoliticalexperience.SoAndenagreed.HepickedouttwomorePrinceps-Elects,bothofthemalreadySenators.OneisnamedMarianaDupree.Mygazesettlesonher,hernoseturnedupandhereyesheavywithsternness.Thirty-sevenyearsold,Senatorfortenyears.Shehatedmetheinstantshelaideyesonme.IlookawayfromherandtowardthebalconywherethesecondPrinceps-Electsits.SergeCarmichael,ajumpythirty-two-year-oldSenatorandgreatpoliticalmind,whowastednotimeshowingmethathedoesn’tappreciatemyyouthandinexperience.

SergeandMariana.MytworivalsforthePrincepstitle.Ifeelexhaustedjustthinkingaboutit.

Onabalconyseveraldozenyardsaway,sittingflankedbyhisguards,Andenseemscalm,reviewingsomethingwithoneofthesoldiers.He’swearingahandsomegraymilitarycoatwithbrightsilverbuttons,silverepaulettes,andsilversleeveinsignias.Heoccasionallyglancesdowntowardtheprisonersstandinginthechamber’scircle.Iwatchhimforamoment,admiringhisappearanceofcalm.

ThomasandCommanderJamesonaregoingtoreceivetheirsentencesforcrimesagainstthenation.

Thomaslookstidierthanusual—ifthat’spossible.Hishairisslickedback,andIcantellthathemust’veemptiedanentirecanofshoepolishontoeachofhisboots.HestandsatattentioninthecenterofthechamberandstaresstraightaheadwithanintensitythatwouldmakeanyRepubliccommanderproud.Iwonderwhat’sgoingthroughhismind.Ishepicturingthatnightinthehospitalalley,whenhemurderedmybrother?IshethinkingofthemanyconversationshehadwithMetias,themomentswhenhehadtakendownhisguard?OrthefatefulnightwhenhehadchosentobetrayMetiasinsteadofhelphim?

CommanderJameson,ontheotherhand,looksslightlydisheveled.Hercold,emotionlesseyesarefixedonme.Shehasbeenwatchingmeunflinchinglyforthepasttwelveminutes.Istarebackforamoment,tryingtoseesomehintofasoulinhereyes,butnothingexiststhereexceptforanicyhatred,anabsolutelackofconscience.

Ilookaway,takedeep,slowbreaths,andtrytofocusonsomethingelse.MythoughtsreturntoDay.

It’sbeen241dayssincehevisitedmyapartmentandbidmegood-bye.SometimesIwishDaycouldholdmeinhisarmsagainandkissmethewayhedidonthatlastnight,soclosethatwecouldbarelybreathe,hislipssoftagainstmine.ButthenItakebackthatwish.Thethoughtisuseless.Itremindsmeofloss,justlikehowsittinghereandlookingdownonthepeoplewhokilledmyfamilyremindsmeofallthethingsIusedtohave;itremindsmetooofmyguilt,ofallthethingsDayusedtohavethatItookfromhim.

Besides,Daywillprobablyneverwanttokissmeagain.NotafterhefindsoutwhyI’veaskedhimtoreturntoDenver.

Anden’slookinginmydirectionnow.WhenIcatchhisgaze,henodsonce,excuseshimselffromhisbalcony,andaminutelaterhestepsintomybalcony.Iriseand,alongwithmyguards,snaptoasalute.Andenwavesahandimpatiently.“Sit,please,”hesays.WhenI’verelaxedbackintomychair,hebendsdowntomyeyelevelandadds,“Howareyouholdingup,June?”

Ifighttheblushasitspreadsacrossmycheeks.AftereightmonthswithoutDayinmylife,IfindmyselfsmilingatAnden,enjoyingtheattention,occasionallyevenhopingforit.“Doingfine,thanks.I’vebeenlookingforwardtothisday.”

“Ofcourse.”Andennods.“Don’tworry—itwon’tbelongbeforebothofthemareoutofyourlifeforever.”Hegivesmyshoulderareassuringsqueeze.

Thenheleavesasswiftlyashearrived,vanishingwiththefaintclinkofmedalsandepaulettes,thenreappearingmomentslaterinhisownbalcony.

Iliftmyheadinavainattemptatbravery,knowingthatCommanderJameson’sicyeyesmuststillbeuponme.AseachoftheSenatorsrisestocastaloudhisvoteonherverdict,IholdmybreathandcarefullypushawayeachmemoryIhaveofhereyesstaringmedown,foldingthemintoaneatcompartmentatthebackofmymind.Thevotingseemstotakeforever,eventhoughtheSenatorsareallquicktosaywhattheythinkwillpleasetheElector.NoonehasthecouragetoriskcrossingAndenafterwatchingsomanyothersconvictedandexecuted.Bythetimemyturncomes,mythroatisparched.Iswallowafewtimes,thenspeakup.

“Guilty,”Isay,myvoiceclearandcalm.SergeandMarianacasttheirvotesafterme.Werunthroughanotherroundof

votingforThomas,andthenwe’redone.Threeminuteslater,aman(bald,witharound,wrinkledfaceandscarletfloor-lengthrobeshe’sclutchingwithhislefthand)hurriesintoAnden’sbalconyandgiveshimarushedbow.Andenleanstowardthemanandwhispersinhisear.Iwatchtheirinteractioninquietcuriosity,wonderingwhetherIcanpredictthefinalverdictbytheirgestures.Afterashortdeliberation,Andenandthemessengerbothnod.Thenthemessengerraiseshisvoicetotheentireassembly.

“WearenowreadytoannouncetheverdictsforCaptainThomasAlexanderBryantandCommanderNatashaJamesonofLosAngelesCityPatrolEight.AllriseforthegloriousElector!”

TheSenatorsandIstandwithauniformclatter,whileCommanderJamesonsimplyturnstofaceAndenwithalookofutterdisdain.ThomassnapstoasharpsaluteinAnden’sdirection.HeholdsthepositionasAndenstandsup,straightens,andputshishandsbehindhisback.There’samomentofsilenceaswewaitforhisfinalverdict,theonevotethatreallymatters.Ifightbackarisingurgetocough.MyeyesdartinstinctivelytotheotherPrinceps-Elects,somethingInowdoallthetime;Marianahasasatisfiedfrownonherface,whileSergejustlooksbored.OneofmyfistsclenchestightlyaroundthepaperclipringI’mworkingon.Ialreadyknowitwillleavedeepgroovesinmypalm.

“TheSenatorsoftheRepublichavesubmittedtheirindividualverdicts,”Andenannouncestothecourtroom,hiswordsbearingalltheformalityofatraditions-oldspeech.Imarvelatthewayhisvoicecansoundsosoft,yetcarrysowellatthesametime.“Ihavetakentheirjointdecisionintoaccount,andnowIgivemyown.”Andenpausestoturnhiseyesdowntowardwherebothofthem

arewaiting.Thomasisstillinfullsalute,stillstaringintentlyattheemptyairinfrontofhim.“CaptainThomasAlexanderBryantofLosAngelesCityPatrolEight,”hesays,“theRepublicofAmericafindsyouguilty...”

Theroomstayssilent.Ifighttokeepmybreathingeven.Thinkaboutsomething.Anything.WhataboutallthepoliticalbooksI’vebeenreadingthisweek?ItrytorecitesomeofthefactsI’velearned,butsuddenlyIcan’trememberanyofit.Mostuncharacteristic.

“...ofthedeathofCaptainMetiasIparisonthenightofNovemberthirtieth—ofthedeathofcivilianGraceWingwithoutthewarrantsnecessaryforexecution—ofthesingle-handedexecutionoftwelveprotestersinBatallaSquareontheafternoonof—”

Hisvoicecomesinandoutoftheblurofnoiseinmyhead.Ileanahandagainstmychair’sarmrest,letoutaslowbreath,andtrytopreventmyselffromswaying.Guilty.ThomashasbeenfoundguiltyofkillingbothmybrotherandDay’smother.Myhandsshake.

“—andtherebysentencedtodeathbyfiringsquadtwodaysfromtoday,atseventeenhundredhours.CommanderNatashaJamesonofLosAngelesCityPatrolEight,theRepublicofAmericafindsyouguilty...”

Anden’svoicefadesawayintoadull,unrecognizablehum.Everythingaroundmeseemssoslow,asifI’mlivingtooquicklyforitallandleavingtheworldbehind.

AyearagoI’dbeenstandingoutsideBatallaHallonadifferentsortofcourtstage,lookingonwithahugecrowdasajudgegaveDaytheexactsamesentence.NowDayisalive,andaRepubliccelebrity.Iopenmyeyesagain.CommanderJameson’slipsaresetinatightlineasAndenreadsoutherdeathpenalty.Thomaslooksexpressionless.Isheexpressionless?I’mtoofarawaytotell,buthiseyebrowsseemfurrowedintoastrangesortoftragedy.Ishouldfeelgoodaboutthis,Iremindmyself.BothDayandIshouldberejoicing.ThomaskilledMetias.HeshotDay’smotherincoldblood,withoutasecond’shesitation.

ButnowthecourtroomfallsawayandallIcanseearememoriesofThomasasateenager,backwhenheandMetiasandIusedtoeatporkedameinsideawarmfirst-floorstreetstand,withtherainpouringdownallaroundus.IrememberThomasshowingoffhisfirstassignedguntome.IevenrememberthetimeMetiasbroughtmetohisafternoondrills.IwastwelveandhadjustbegunmycoursesatDrakeforaweek—howinnocenteverythingseemedbackthen.Metiaspickedmeupaftermyclassesthatafternoon,rightontime,andweheadedovertotheTanagashisector,wherehewasrunninghispatrolthrough

drills.Icanstillfeelthewarmthofthesunbeatingdownonmyhair,stillseetheswooshofMetias’sblackhalfcape,thegleamofhissilverepaulettes,andstillhearthesharpclicksofhisshiningbootsonthecement.WhileIsettleddownonacornerbenchandturnedmycomponto(pretendto)dosomeadvancereading,Metiaslineduphissoldiersforinspection.Hepausedbeforeeachsoldiertopointoutflawsintheiruniforms.

“CadetRin,”hebarkedatoneofthenewersoldiers.Thesoldierjumpedatthesteelinmybrother’svoice,thenhungherheadinshameasMetiastappedthelonemedalpinnedonthecadet’scoat.“IfIworemymedallikethis,CommanderJamesonwouldstripmeofmytitle.Doyouwanttoberemovedfromthispatrol,soldier?”

“N-no,sir,”thecadetstammered.Metiaskepthisglovedhandstuckedbehindhisbackandmovedon.He

criticizedthreemoresoldiersbeforehereachedThomas,whostoodatattentionneartheendoftheline.Metiaslookedoverhisuniformwithastern,carefuleye.Ofcourse,Thomas’soutfitwasabsolutelyspotless—notasinglethreadoutofplace,everymedalandepaulettegroovepolishedtoabrightshine,bootssoflawlessthatIcouldprobablyseemyreflectioninthem.Alongpause.Iputmycompdownandleanedforwardtowatchmoreclosely.Finally,mybrothernodded.“Welldone,soldier,”hesaidtoThomas.“Keepupthegoodwork,andI’llseethatCommanderJamesonpromotesyoubeforetheendofthisyear.”

Thomas’sexpressionneverchanged,butIsawhimlifthischinwithpride.“Thankyou,sir,”hereplied.Metias’seyeslingeredonhimforasecond,andthenhemovedon.

Whenhefinallyfinishedinspectingeveryone,mybrotherturnedtofacehisentirepatrol.“Adisappointinginspection,soldiers,”hecalledouttothem.“You’reundermywatchnow,andthatmeansyou’reunderCommanderJameson’swatch.Sheexpectsahighercaliberfromthislot,soyou’ddowelltotryharder.Understood?”

Sharpsalutesansweredhim.“Yes,sir!”Metias’seyesreturnedtoThomas.Isawrespectonmybrother’sface,even

admiration.“IfeachofyoupaidattentiontodetailthewayCadetBryantdoes,we’dbethegreatestpatrolinthecountry.Lethimserveasanexampletoyouall.”Hejoinedtheminafinalsalute.“LonglivetheRepublic!”Thecadetsechoedhiminunison.

Thememoryslowlyfadesfrommythoughts,andMetias’sclearvoiceturnsintoaghost’swhisper,leavingmeweakandexhaustedinmysadness.

MetiashadalwaystalkedaboutThomas’sfixationonbeingtheperfectsoldier.IremembertheblinddevotionThomasgavetoCommanderJameson,thesameblinddevotionhenowgivestohisnewElector.ThenIseeThomasandmesittingacrossfromeachotherinaninterrogationroom—Iremembertheanguishinhiseyes.Howhe’dtoldmethathewantedtoprotectme.Whathappenedtothatshy,awkwardboyfromLosAngeles’spoorsectors,theboywhousedtotrainwithMetiaseveryafternoon?SomethingblursmyvisionandIquicklywipeahandacrossmyeyes.

Icouldbecompassionate.IcouldaskAndentosparehislifeandlethimliveouthisyearsinprison,andgivehimachancetoredeemhimself.ButinsteadIjuststandtherewithmyclosedlipsandunwaveringposture,myhearthardasstone.Metiaswouldbemoremercifulinmyposition.

ButIwasneverasgoodapersonasmybrother.“ThisconcludesthetrialforCaptainThomasAlexanderBryantand

CommanderNatashaJameson,”Andenfinishes.HeholdsahandoutinThomas’sdirectionandnodsonce.“Captain,doyouhaveanywordsfortheSenate?”

Thomasdoesn’tflinchintheslightest,doesn’tshowasinglehintoffearorremorseorangeronhisface.Iwatchhimclosely.Afteraheartbeat,heturnshiseyesuptowhereAndenstands,thenbowslow.“MygloriousElector,”herepliesinaclear,unwaveringvoice.“IhavedisgracedtheRepublicbyactinginawaythathasbothdispleasedanddisappointedyou.Ihumblyacceptmyverdict.”Herisesfromhisbow,thenreturnstohissalute.“LonglivetheRepublic.”

HeglancesupatmewhentheSenatorsallvoicetheiragreementwithAnden’sfinalverdict.Foraninstant,oureyesmeet.ThenIlookdown.Afterawhile,Ilookbackupandhe’sstaringstraightaheadagain.

AndenturnshisattentiontoCommanderJameson.“Commander,”hesays,extendinghisglovedhandinherdirection.Hischinliftsinaregalgesture.“DoyouhaveanywordsfortheSenate?”

Shedoesn’tflinchfromlookingattheyoungElector.Hereyesarecold,darkslates.Afterapause,shefinallynods.“Yes,Elector,”shesays,hertoneharshandmocking,astarkcontrasttoThomas’s.TheSenatorsandsoldiersshiftuneasily,butAndenraisesahandforsilence.“Idohavesomewordsforyou.Iwasnotthefirsttohopeforyourdeath,andIwon’tbethelast.YouaretheElector,butyouarestilljustaboy.Youdon’tknowwhoyouare.”Shenarrowshereyes...andsmiles.“ButIknow.Ihaveseenfarmorethanyouhave—I’vedrainedthebloodfromprisonerstwiceyourage,I’vekilledmenwithtwiceyour

strength,I’veleftprisonersshakingintheirbrokenbodieswhoprobablyhavetwiceyourcourage.Youthinkyou’rethiscountry’ssavior,don’tyou?ButIknowbetter.You’rejustyourfather’sboy,andlikefather,likeson.Hefailed,andsowillyou.”Hersmilewidens,butitnevertoucheshereyes.“Thiscountrywillgodowninflameswithyouatthehelm,andmyghostwillbelaughingatyouallthewayfromhell.”

Anden’sexpressionneverchanges.Hiseyesstayclearandunafraid,andinthismoment,Iamdrawntohimlikeabirdtoanopensky.Hemeetsherstarecoolly.“Thisconcludestoday’strial,”hereplies,hisvoiceechoingthroughoutthechamber.“Commander,Isuggestyousaveyourthreatsforthefiringsquad.”Thenhefoldshishandsbehindhisbackandnodsathissoldiers.“Removethemfrommysight.”

Idon’tknowhowAndencanshowsolittlefearinfrontofCommanderJameson.Ienvyit.BecauseasIwatchthesoldiersleadheraway,allIcanfeelisadeep,ice-coldpitofterror.Likeshe’snotdonewithusyet.Likeshe’swarningustowatchourbacks.

WETOUCHDOWNINDENVERONTHEMORNINGOFTHEEMERGENCYbanquet.Eventhewordsthemselvesmakemewanttolaugh:emergencybanquet?Tome,abanquetstillmeansafeast,andIdon’tseehowanyemergencyshouldbecauseforagoddymountainoffood,evenifitisforIndependenceDay.IsthathowtheseSenatorsdealwithcrises—bystuffingtheirfatfaces?

AfterEdenandIsettleintoatemporarygovernmentapartmentandEdendozesoff,exhaustedfromourearlymorningflight,IreluctantlyleavehimwithLucyinordertomeettheassistantassignedtoprepmefortonight’sevent.

“Ifanyonetriestoseehim,”IwhispertoLucyasEdensleeps,“foranyreason,pleasecallme.Ifanyonewants—”

Lucy,usedtomyparanoia,hushesmewithawaveofherhand.“Letmeputyourmindatease,Mr.Wing,”shereplies.Shepatsmycheek.“NoonewillseeEdenwhileyou’regone.Ipromise.I’llcallyouinaninstantifanythinghappens.”

Inod.MyeyeslingeronEdenasifhe’lldisappearifIblink.“Thanks.”Toattendaneventthisfancy,Ineedtodressthepart—andtodressthe

part,theRepublicassignsaSenator’sdaughtertotakemethroughthedowntowndistrict,wherethecity’smainshoppingareasareclustered.Shemeetsmerightwherethetrainstopsinthecenterofthedistrict.There’snomistakingwhosheis—she’sdeckedoutinastylishuniformfromheadtotoe,herlightbrowneyessetagainstdarkbrownskinandthickblackcurlsofhairtiedupintoaknottedbraid.Whensherecognizesme,sheflashesmeasmile.Icatchherlookingmeover,asifalreadycritiquingmyoutfit.“YoumustbeDay,”shesays,takingmyhand.“MynameisFalineFedelma,andtheElectorhasassignedmetobeyourguide.”Shepausestoraiseaneyebrowatmyclothes.“Wehavesomeworktodo.”

Ilookdownatmyoutfit.Trouserstuckedintoscuffed-upboots,a

rumpledcollarshirt,andanoldscarf.Would’vebeenconsideredluxuriousonthestreets.“Gladyouapprove,”Ireply.ButFalinejustlaughsandloopsanarmthroughmine.

Assheleadsmetoagovernmentclothingstreetthatspecializesineveningwear,Itakeinthecrowdsofpeoplerushingaroundus.Well-dressed,upper-classfolks.Atrioofstudentspass,gigglingaboutsomethingorother,dressedinpristinemilitaryuniformsandpolishedboots.Asweroundacornerandstepinsideashop,Irealizethatsoldiersarestandingguardupanddownthestreet.Alotofsoldiers.

“Arethereusuallythismanyguardsdowntown?”IaskFaline.Shejustshrugsandholdsupanoutfitagainstme,butIcanseethe

uneaseinhereyes.“No,”shereplies,“notreally.ButI’msureit’snothingforyoutoworryabout.”

Iletitdrop,butapulseofanxietyrushesthroughmymind.Denver’sbeefingupitsdefenses.Junehasn’texplainedwhysheneededmetoattendthisbanquetsobadly,badlyenoughtocontactmeherselfaftersomanymonthsofnoword.Whatthehellwouldsheneedfromme?WhatdoestheRepublicwantthistime?

IftheRepublicreallyisgoingbacktowar,thenmaybeIshouldfindawaytogetEdenoutofthecountry.Wehavethepowertoleavenow,afterall.Don’tknowwhat’skeepingmehere.

Hourslater,afterthesunhassetandfireworksfortheElector’sbirthdayhavealreadystartedgoingoffinrandompartsofthecity,ajeeptakesmefromourapartmenttowardColburnHall.Ipeerimpatientlyoutthewindow.Peopletravelupanddownthesidewalksindenseclusters.Tonighteachofthemisdressedinveryspecificclothing—mostlyred,withhintsofgoldmakeupandRepublicsealsstampedprominentlyhereandthere,onthebackofwhiteglovesoronthesleevesofmilitarycoats.IwonderhowmanyofthesefolksagreewiththeAndenisoursaviorgraffitiandhowmanysidewiththeAndenisahoaxmessage.Troopsmarchupanddownthestreets.AlltheJumboTronshaveimagesofenormousRepublicsealsondisplay,followedbylivefootagestreamingfromthefestivitieshappeninginsideColburnHall.ToAnden’scredit,there’sbeenasteadydeclineinRepublicpropagandalatelyontheJumboTrons.Stillnonewsabouttheoutsideworld,though.Guessyoucan’thaveeverything.

BythetimewereachthecobbledstepsofColburnHall,thestreetsareamessofcelebrations,throngsofpeople,andunsmilingguards.The

onlookersletoutahugecheerwhentheyseemestepoutofthejeep,aroarthatshakesmybonesandsendsaspasmofpainthroughthebackofmyhead.Iwavehesitantlyback.

Faline’swaitingformeatthebottomofthestepsthatleaduptoColburnHall.Thistimeshe’scladinagolddress,andgolddustshimmersonhereyelids.WeexchangebowsbeforeIfollowbehindher,lookingonasshemotionsforotherstoclearapath.“Youcleanupnicely,”shesays.“Someone’sgoingtobeverypleasedtoseeyou.”

“Idon’tthinktheElectorwillbeasexcitedasyouthink.”Shesmilesatmeoverhershoulder.“Iwasn’ttalkingabouttheElector.”Myheartjumpsatthat.Wemakeourwaythroughtheshoutingmob.Icranemyneckandstare

attheelaboratebeautyofColburnHall.Everythingglitters.TonightthepillarsareeachadornedwithtallscarletbannersdisplayingtheRepublicseal,andhangingrightinthemiddleofthepillarsandabovethehall’sentranceisthelargestportraitI’veeverseen.Anden’sgiantface.Falineguidesmedownthecorridor,whereSenatorsarecarryingonrandomconversationsandotherelitegueststalkandlaughwithoneanotherlikeeverythinginthecountryisgoinggreat.Butbehindtheircheerfulmasksaresignsofnervousness,flickeringeyes,andfurrowedbrows.They’vegottasensetheunusualnumberofsoldiersheretoo.Itrytomimictheproper,precisewaytheyhaveofwalkingandtalking,butstopwhenFalinenoticesmedoingit.

Wewanderthelush,opensettingofColburnHallforseveralminutes,lostintheseaofpoliticians.Thetasselsofmyepaulettesclinktogether.I’mlookingforher,eventhoughIdon’tknowwhatI’llsaywhen—if—Ifindher.HowwillIevencatchaglimpseofherinthemiddleofallthisgoddyluxury?Whereverweturn,Iseeanotherflurryofcolorfulgownsandpolishedsuits,fountainsandpianos,waiterscarryingskinnyglassesofchampagne,fancypeoplewearingtheirfakesmiles.Ifeelasuddensenseofclaustrophobia.

WhereamI?WhatamIdoinghere?Asifoncue,theinstantIaskmyselfthesequestionsistheinstantI

finallyseeher.Somehow,inthemidstofthesearistocratswhoblendintooneblurryportrait,myeyescatchhersilhouetteandpause.June.Thenoisearoundmefadesintoadullhum,quietanduninteresting,andallofmyattentionturnshelplesslytothegirlIthoughtI’dbeabletoface.

She’sdressedinafloor-lengthgownofdeepscarlet,andherthick,shininghairispiledhighonherheadindarkwaves,pinnedintoplacewithred,gem-studdedcombsthatcatchthelight.She’sthemostbeautifulgirlI’veeverseen,easilythemostbreathtakinggirlintheroom.She’sgrowntallerintheeightmonthssinceI’veseenher,andthewaysheholdsherself—poisedandgraceful,withherslender,swanlikeneckandherdeep,darkeyes—istheimageofperfection.

Almostperfection.Atcloserlook,Inoticesomethingthatmakesmefrown.There’sanairofrestraintabouther,somethinguncertainandunconfident.NotliketheJuneIknow.Asifpowerlessagainstthesight,IfindmyselfguidingbothFalineandmetowardher.Ionlystopwhenthepeoplearoundhermoveapart,revealingthemanstandingatherside.

It’sAnden.Ofcourse,Ishouldn’tbesurprised.Offtotheside,severalwell-dressedgirlsaretryinginvaintocatchhisattention,butheseemsfocusedonlyonJune.Iwatchasheleansintowhispersomethinginherear,thencontinueshisrelaxedconversationwithherandseveralothers.

WhenIturnsilentlyaway,Falinefrownsatmysuddenshift.“Areyouokay?”sheasks.

Iattemptareassuringsmile.“Oh,absolutely.Don’tworry.”Ifeelsooutofplaceamongthesearistocrats,withtheirbankaccountsandposhmanners.NomatterhowmuchmoneytheRepublicthrowsatme,Iwillforeverbetheboyfromthestreets.

AndI’dforgottenthataboyfromthestreetsisnomatchforthefuturePrinceps.

1935HOURS.COLBURNHALL,MAINBALLROOM.68°F.

ITHINKISEEDAYINTHECROWD.AFLASHOFWHITE-

GOLDHAIR,ofbrightblueeyes.MyattentionsuddenlybreaksfrommyconversationwithAndenandtheotherPrinceps-Elects,andIcranemyneck,hopingtogetabetterlook—buthe’sgoneagain,ifhewaseverthere.Disappointed,Ireturnmygazetotheothersandgivethemmywell-rehearsedsmile.WillDayshowuptonight?SurelyAnden’smenwouldhavealertedusifDayhadrefusedtogetontheprivatejetsentforhimthismorning.Buthe’dsoundedsodistantandawkwardoverthemikethatnight,perhapshejustdecideditwasn’tworthcomingouthereafterall.Maybehehatesme,nowthatwe’vehadenoughtimeapartforhimtothinkclearlyaboutourfriendship.IscanthecrowdagainwhentheotherPrinceps-ElectsarelaughingatAnden’sjokes.

AfeelinginmystomachtellsmeDaywillbehere.ButIamhardlyapersonwhoreliesongutinstinct.Iabsentlytouchthejewelsinmyhair,makingsurethey’reallstillintherightplaces.They’renotthemostcomfortablethingsI’veeverworn,butthehairdresserhadgaspedathowtherubiesstoodoutagainstmydarklocks,andthatreactionwasenoughformetothinkthey’reworththetrouble.I’mnotsurewhyIbotheredtolooksonicefortonight.ItisIndependenceDay,Isuppose,andtheoccasionisalargeone.

“MissIparisisasprecociousasweallassumedshewouldbe,”Anden’ssayingtotheSenatorsnow,turninghissmileonme.Hisapparenthappinessisallforshow,ofcourse.I’veshadowedAndenforlongenoughnowtoknowwhenheistense,andtonightthenervousnessreflectsoffeverygesturehemakes.I’mnervoustoo.Amonthfromnow,theRepublicmighthaveColoniesflagsflyingoverhercities.“Hertutorssaythey’veneverseenastudentprogresssorapidlythroughherpoliticaltexts.”

“Thankyou,Elector,”Ireplyautomaticallytohiscompliment.TheSenatorsbothchuckle,butunderneaththeirjollyexpressionsliesthelingeringresentmenttheyhaveagainstme,thischildwhohasbeentappedbytheElectortopotentiallybecometheirleaderoneday.Marianagivesmeadiplomatic,albeitstern,nod,butSergedoesn’tlooktoopleasedwiththewayAndensinglesmeout.IignorethedarkscowlthattheSenatorcastsinmydirection.Hisscowlsusedtobotherme—nowI’mjusttiredofthem.

“Ah,well.”SenatorTanakaofCaliforniatugsonthecollarofhismilitaryjacketandexchangesalookwithhiswife.“That’swonderfulnews,Elector.Ofcourse,I’msurethetutorsalsoknowhowmuchofaSenator’sjobislearnedoutsideoftextsandfromyearsofexperienceintheSenatechamber.LikeourdearSenatorCarmichaelhere.”HepausestonodgraciouslyatSerge,whopuffsup.

Andenwavesoffhisconcern.“Ofcourse,”heechoes.“Allingoodtime,Senator.”

Besideme,Marianasighs,leansover,andtiltsherchinatSerge.“Ifyoustareathisheadlongenough,itmightsproutwingsandtakeflight,”shemutters.

Ismileatthat.Theysteeroffthetopicofmeandontothetopicofhowtobettersort

studentsintohighschoolsnowthattheTrialsarediscontinued.Thepoliticalchattergratesonmynerves.IstartscanningthecrowdagainforDay.Aftermorefutilesearching,IfinallyputahandonAnden’sarmandleanovertowhisper,“Excuseme.I’llberightback.”Henodsinreturn.WhenIturnawayandstartblendinginwiththecrowd,Icanfeelhisstarelingeringonme.

Ispendseveralminuteswalkingtheballroominvain,greetingvariousSenatorsandtheirfamiliesasIgo.WhereisDay?Itrytohearsnatchesofconversations,ornoticewhereclustersofpeoplemightbegathering.Dayisacelebrity.Hemustbeattractingattentionifhealreadyarrived.I’mabouttomakemywayacrosstheotherhalfoftheballroomwhenI’minterruptedbytheloudspeakers.Thepledge.Isigh,thenturnbacktowhereAndenhasalreadytakenhisplaceonthefrontstage,flankedonbothsidesbysoldiersholdingupRepublicflags.

“IpledgeallegiancetotheflagoftheRepublicofAmerica...”Day.Thereheis.He’sstandingaboutfiftyfeetaway,hisbackpartiallyturnedtomesothatI

canonlyseeatinysliverofhisprofile,hishairlooseandthickandperfectlystraight,andonhisarmisagirlinashininggolddress.WhenIobservehim

moreclosely,Inoticethathismouthisn’tmovingatall.Hestayssilentthroughouttheentirepledge.IturnmyattentionbacktothefrontasapplausefillsthechamberandAndenbeginshispreparedspeech.Fromthecornerofmyeye,IseeDayturntolookoverhisshoulder.Myhandstrembleatthismomentaryglimpseofhisface—haveIreallyforgottenhowbeautifulheis,howhiseyesreflectsomethingwildanduntamed,freeeveninthemidstofallthisorderandelegance?

Whenthespeechends,IheadstraightinDay’sdirection.He’sdressedinaperfectlytailoredblackmilitaryjacketandsuit.Ishealsothinner?HelookstohavelostagoodtenpoundssincethelasttimeIsawhim.He’sbeenillrecently.AsIgetcloser,Daycatchessightofmeandpausesinhisconversationwithhisdate.Hiseyeswidenalittle.Icanfeeltheheatrisingonmycheeks,butforceitdown.Thiswillbeourfirstface-to-facemeetinginmonths,andIrefusetomakeafoolofmyself.

Istopafewfeetaway.Myeyeswandertohisdate,agirlwhomIrecognizeasFaline,theeighteen-year-olddaughterofSenatorFedelma.

FalineandIexchangeaquicknod.Shegrins.“Hi,June,”shesays.“Youlookgorgeoustonight.”

Shemakesagenuinesmileescapefromme,areliefafterallthepracticedsmilesI’vebeengivingtheotherPrinceps-Elects.“Sodoyou,”Ireply.

Falinedoesn’twasteasingleawkwardsecond—shecatchestheslightblushonmycheeksandcurtsiestobothofus.Thensheheadsbackintothecrowd,leavingDayandmealoneintheseaofpeople.

Forasecond,wejuststareateachother.Ibreakthesilencebeforeitstretchesonfortoolong.“Hi,”Isay.Itakeinhisface,refreshingmymemorywitheverylittledetail.“It’sgoodtoseeyou.”

Daysmilesbackandbows,buthiseyesneverleaveme.Thewayhestaressendsriversofheatracingthroughmychest.“Thanksfortheinvite.”Hearinghisvoiceinpersonagain...Itakeadeepbreath,remindingmyselfofwhyIinvitedhimhere.Hiseyesdanceacrossmyfaceandtomydress—heseemsreadytocommentonit,butthendecidesagainstitandwaveshishandattheroom.“Nicelittlepartyyouhavehere.”

“It’sneverquiteasfunasitlooks,”Ireplyinahushedvoice,sothattheotherscan’thearme.“IthinksomeoftheseSenatorsmightburstfrombeingforcedtotalktopeopletheydon’tlike.”

MyteasingbringsasmallsmileofrelieftoDay’slips.“GladI’mnottheonlyunhappyone.”

Andenhasalreadyleftthestage,andDay’scommentremindsmethatIshouldbeescortinghimtothebanquetsoon.Thethoughtsobersme.“It’salmosttime,”Isay,motioningforDaytofollowme.“Thebanquetisveryprivate.You,me,theotherPrinceps-Elects,andtheElector.”

“What’sgoingon?”Dayasksashefallsintostepbesideme.Hisarmbrushesonceagainstmine,sendingshiversdancingacrossmyskin.Istruggletocatchmybreath.Focus,June.“Youweren’texactlyspecificinourlastconversation.IhopeI’mputtingupwithallofthesesnobbyCongresstrotsforagoodreason.”

Ican’thelpmyamusementatthewayDayreferstotheSenators.“You’llfindoutwhenwegetthere.Andkeepyourinsultstoaminimum.”Ilookawayfromhimandtowardthesmallcorridorwe’reheadingfor,JasperChamber,adiscreethallbranchingawayfromthemainballroom.

“I’mnotgoingtolikethis,amI?”Daymuttersclosetomyear.Guiltrisesinme.“Probablynot.”Wesettledownintheprivatebanquetroom(asmall,rectangularcherrywood

tablewithsevenseats),andafterawhile,SergeandMarianafilterin.TheyeachtakeaseatoneithersideofAnden’sreservedchair.IstaynexttoDay,asAndenhadwished.Twoserversgoaroundthetable,placingdaintyplatesofwatermelonandporksaladbeforeeachseat.SergeandMarianamakepolitesmalltalk,butneitherDaynorIsaysanotherword.Nowandthen,Imanagetostealaglanceathim.He’seyeingthelinesofforks,spoons,andknivesathisplacesettingwithanuncomfortablefrown,tryingtofigurethemoutwithoutaskingforhelp.Oh,Day.Idon’tknowwhythisgivesmeapainful,flutteringfeelinginmystomach,orwhyitpullsmyhearttohim.I’dforgottenhowhislonglashescatchthelight.

“What’sthis?”hewhisperstome,holdinguponeofhisutensils.“Abutterknife.”Dayscowlsatit,runningafingeralongitsblunt,roundededge.“This,”he

mutters,“isnotaknife.”Besidehim,Sergenoticeshishesitationtoo.“Itakeityou’renotaccustomed

toforksandkniveswhereyou’refrom?”hesayscoollytohim.Daystiffens,buthedoesn’tmissabeat.Hegrabsalargercarvingknife,

purposelydisturbinghisplace’scarefulsetup,andgesturescasuallywithit.BothSergeandMarianaedgeawayfromthetable.“WhereIcomefrom,we’remoreaboutefficiency,”hereplies.“Aknifelikethis’llskewerfood,smearbutter,andslitthroatsallatthesametime.”

OfcourseDay’sneverslitathroatinhislife—butSergedoesn’tknowthat.Hesniffsindisdainatthereply,buttheblooddrainsfromhisface.IhavetopretendtocoughsothatIdon’tlaughatDay’smock-seriousexpression.Forthosewhodon’tknowhimwell,hiswordsactuallysoundintimidating.

IalsonoticesomethingIhadn’tearlier—Daylookspale.MuchpalerthanIremember.Myamusementwavers.IshisrecentillnesssomethingmoreseriousthanI’dfirstassumed?

Andenarrivesintheroomaminutelater,causingtheusualstirasweallriseforhim,andgesturesforallofustotakeourseats.He’saccompaniedbyfoursoldiers,oneofwhomclosesthedoorbehindhimandfinallysealsusintoourprivatemeal.

“Day,”Andengreets.HepausestonodcourteouslyinDay’sdirection.Daylooksunhappywiththeattention,butmanagestoreturnthegesture.“It’sapleasuretoseeyouagain,ifunderunfortunatecircumstances.”

“Veryunfortunate,”Daysaysinreturn.Ishiftuncomfortablyinmyseat,tryingtoimagineamoreawkwardscenariothanthisdinnersetup.

Andenletsthestiffreplyslide.“Letmecatchyouuponthecurrentsituation.”Heputshisforkdown.“Thepeacetreatywe’vebeenworkingonwiththeColoniesisnowshelved.AvirushashittheColonies’southernwarfrontcitieshard.”

Besideme,Daycrosseshisarmsandregardsthecrowdwithasuspiciousexpressiononhisface,butAndengoeson.“Theybelievethisviruswascausedbyus,andtheyaredemandingthatwesendthemacureifwewanttocontinuepeacetalks.”Sergeclearshisthroatandstartstosaysomething,butAndenholdsupahandforsilence.Hethengoesontospillallthedetails—howtheColoniesfirstsentaharshmessagetotheRepublic,demandinginfoontheviruswreakinghavocamongsttheirtroops,hastilywithdrawingtheiraffectedsoldiers,andthenbroadcastingtheirultimatumtothewarfrontgenerals,warningofdireconsequencesifacurewasnotdeliveredimmediately.

Daylistenstoallofitwithoutmovingamuscleorutteringaword.Oneofhishandsgripstheedgeofthetabletightlyenoughtoturnhisknuckleswhite.Iwonderwhetherhe’sguessedwherethisisgoingandwhatallthishastodowithhim,buthejustwaitsuntilAndenhasfinished.

Sergeleansbackinhischairandfrowns.“IftheColonieswanttoplaygameswithourpeaceoffer,”hescoffs,“thenletthem.We’vebeenatwarlongenough—wecanhandlesomemore.”

“No,wecan’t,”Marianainterjects.“DoyouhonestlythinktheUnited

Nationswillacceptthenewsthatourpeacetreatyfellapart?”“DotheColonieshaveanyevidencethatwecausedit?Oraretheseempty

accusations?”“Exactly.Iftheythinkwe’regoingto—”Daysuddenlyspeaksup,hisfaceturnedtowardAnden.“Let’sstopdragging

ourfeet,”hesays.“TellmewhyI’mhere.”He’snotloud,buttheominoustoneofhisvoicehushestheconversationintheroom.Andenreturnshislookwithanequallygraveone.Hetakesadeepbreath.

“Day,Ibelievethisistheresultofoneofmyfather’sbioweapons—andthattheviruscamefromyourbrotherEden’sblood.”

Day’seyesnarrow.“And?”Andenseemsreluctanttocontinue.“There’smorethanonereasonwhyI

didn’twantallmySenatorsinherewithus.”Heleansforward,lowershisvoice,andgivesDayahumbledlook.“Idon’twanttohearanyoneelserightnow.Iwanttohearyou.Youaretheheartofthepeople,Day—youalwayshavebeen.You’vegiveneverythingyouhaveinordertoprotectthem.”Daystiffensbesideme,butAndengoeson.“Ifearforthepeople.Iworryabouttheirsafety,thatwe’llbehandingthemovertotheenemyjustaswe’restartingtoputthepiecestogether.”Hegrowsquieter.“Ineedtomakesomedifficultdecisions.”

Dayraisesaneyebrow.“Whatkindofdecisions?”“TheColoniesaredesperateforacure.Theywilldestroyustogetit,

everythingbothyouandIcareabout.TheonlychancewehaveoffindingoneistotakeEdenintotemporary—”

Daypusheshischairfromthetableandrises.“No,”hesays.Hisvoiceisflatandicy,butIremembermyold,heatedargumentwithDaywellenoughtorecognizethedeepfurybeneathhiscalmness.Withoutanotherword,heturnsfromthegroupandwalksaway.

Sergestartstogetup,nodoubttoshoutatDayabouthisrudeness,butAndenshootshimawarningstareandmotionsforhimtosit.ThenAndenturnstomewithalookthatsays,Talktohim.Please.

IwatchDay’sretreatingfigure.Hehaseveryrighttorefuse,everyrighttohateusforaskingthisofhim.ButIstillfindmyselfrisingfrommyownchair,steppingawayfromthebanquettable,andhurryinginhisdirection.

“Day,wait,”Icallout.Mywordssendmeapainfulreminderofthelasttimewe’dbeeninthesameroomtogether,whenwehadsaidourgood-byes.

Weheadintothesmallercorridorthatleadsouttothemainballroom.Daydoesn’tturnaround,butheseemstoslowhisstepsdowninanattempttoletme

catchup.WhenIfinallyreachhim,Itakeadeepbreath.“Look,Iknow—”Daypressesafingertohislips,silencingme,andthengrabsmyhand.His

skiniswarmthroughthefabricofhisglove.ThefeelofhisfingersaroundmineissuchashockafterallthesemonthsthatIcan’tremembertherestofmysentence—everythingabouthim,histouch,hiscloseness,feelsright.“Let’stalkinprivate,”hewhispers.

Weheadinsideoneofthedoorsliningthecorridor,thencloseitbehindusandturnthelock.Myeyesdoacategoricalsweepoftheroom(privatediningchamber,nolightson,oneroundtableandtwelvechairsallcoveredinwhitecloths,andasinglelarge,archedwindowatthebackwallthatletsinastreamofmoonlight).Day’shairtransformsinheretoasilversheet.Heturnshisgazebacktomenow.

Isitmyimagination,ordoeshelookasflusteredasIamaboutourbriefhandhold?Ifeelthesuddentightnessofthedress’swaist,theairhittingmyexposedshouldersandcollarbone,theheavinessofthefabricandthejewelsinmyhair.Day’seyeslingerontherubynecklacesittingatthesmallofmythroat.Hispartinggifttome.Hischeeksturnalittlepinkinthedarkness.“So,”hesays,“isthisseriouslywhyI’mhere?”

Despitetheangerinhisvoice,hisdirectnessislikeacool,sweetbreezeafterallthesemonthsofcalculatedpoliticaltalk.Iwanttobreatheitin.“TheColoniesrefusetoacceptanyotherterms,”Ireply.“They’reconvincedthatwehaveacureforthevirus,andtheonlyonewhomightcarrythecureisEden.TheRepublic’salreadyrunningtestsonotherformer...experiments...toseewhethertheycanfindanything.”

Daycringes,thenfoldshisarmsinfrontofhischestandregardsmewithascowl.“Alreadyrunningtests,”hemutterstohimself,lookingofftowardthemoonlitwindows.“SorryIcan’tbemoreenthusiasticaboutthisidea,”headdsdryly.

Iclosemyeyesforamoment.“Wedon’thavemuchtime,”Iadmit.“Everydaywedon’thandoveracurefurtherangerstheColonies.”

“Andwhathappensifwedon’tgivethemanything?”“Youknowwhathappens.War.”AnoteoffearappearsinDay’seyes,buthestillshrugs.“TheRepublicand

theColonieshavebeenatwarforever.Howwillthisbeanydifferent?”“Thistimethey’llwin,”Iwhisper.“Theyhaveastrongally.Theyknow

we’revulnerableduringourtransitiontoayoungnewElector.Ifwecan’thandoverthiscure,wedon’tstandachance.”Inarrowmyeyes.“Don’tyou

rememberwhatwesawwhenwewenttotheColonies?”Daypausesforaheartbeat.Eventhoughhedoesn’tsayitaloud,Icanseethe

conflictwrittenclearlyonhisface.Finally,hesighsandtightenshislipsinanger.“YouthinkI’mgoingtolettheRepublictakeEdenagain?IftheElectorbelievesthat,thenIreallydidmakeamistakethrowingmysupportbehindhim.Ididn’thelphimoutjusttowatchhimtossEdenbackintoalab.”

“I’msorry,”Isay.NousetryingtoconvincehimofhowmuchAndenalsohatesthesituation.“Heshouldn’thaveaskedyoulikethis.”

“Heputyouuptothis,didn’the?Ibetyouresistedtoo,yeah?Youknowhowthissounds.”Histoneturnsmoreexasperated.“Youknewwhatmyanswerwouldbe.Why’dyoustillsendforme?”

Ilookintohiseyesandsaythefirstthingthatcomestomind.“BecauseIwantedtoseeyou.Isn’tthatwhyyouagreedtoo?”

Thismakeshimpauseforamoment.Thenhewhirlsaround,rakesbothhandsthroughhishair,andsighs.“Whatdoyouthink,then?Tellmethetruth.Whatwouldyouaskmetodo,ifyoufeltabsolutelynopressurefromanyoneelseinthiscountry?”

Ituckastrandofhairbehindmyear.Steelyourself,June.“I’d...,”Ibegin,thenhesitate.WhatwouldIsay?Logically,IagreewithAnden’sassessment.IftheColoniesdowhattheythreaten,iftheyattackuswiththefullforceofasuperpower’shelp,thenmanyinnocentliveswillbelostunlesswetakeariskwithonelife.Thereissimplynoeasierchoice.Besides,wecouldensurethatEdenwouldbetreatedaswellaspossible,withthebestdoctorsandthemostphysicalcomfort.Daycouldbepresentduringallofthepotentialprocedures—hecouldseeexactlywhatwashappening.ButhowdoIexplainthattoaboywhohasalreadylosthisentirefamily,whosawhisbrotherexperimentedonbefore,whohasbeenexperimentedonhimself?ThisisthepartthatAndendoesn’tunderstandaswellasIdo,eventhoughheknowsDay’spastonpaper—hestilldoesn’tknowDay,hasn’ttraveledwithhimandwitnessedthesufferinghe’sgonethrough.Thequestionistoocomplicatedtobeansweredwithsimplelogic.

Mostimportantly—Anden’sunabletoguaranteehisbrother’ssafety.Everythingwillcomewitharisk,andIknowwithdeadcertaintythatnothingintheworldcouldpossiblymakeDaytakethisrisk.

Daymustseethefrustrationdancingacrossmyface,becausehesoftensandstepscloser.Icanpracticallyfeeltheheatcomingoffhim,thewarmthofhisnearnessthatturnsmybreathshallow.“Icameheretonightforyou,”hesaysina

lowvoice.“There’snothingintheworldtheycould’vesaidtoconvinceme,exceptthatyouwantedmehere.AndIcan’tturndownarequestfromyou.Theytoldmeyouhadpersonally...”Heswallows.There’safamiliarwarofemotionsinhisexpressionthatleavesmewithasickfeeling—emotionsthatIknowaredesire,forwhatweoncehad,andanguish,fordesiringagirlwhodestroyedhisfamily.“It’ssogoodtoseeyou,June.”

Hesaysitlikehe’slettinggoofahugeburdenthat’sbeenholdinghimdown.Iwonderwhetherhecanhearmyheartpoundingfranticallyagainstmyribs.WhenIspeak,though,Imanagetokeepmyvoicesteadyandcalm.“Areyouokay?”Iask.“Youlookpale.”

Theweightreturnstohiseyes,andhisbriefmomentofintimacyfadesashestepsawayandfiddleswiththeedgeofhisgloves.He’salwayshatedgloves,Iremember.“I’vehadabadfluforthelastcoupleofweeks,”hereplies,flashingmeaquickgrin.“Gettingbetternow,though.”(Eyesflickeringsubtlytotheside,scratchingtheedgeofhisear,stiffnessofhislimbs,timingslightlyoffbetweenhiswordsandhissmile.)Itiltmyheadathimandfrown.

“You’resuchabadliar,Day,”Isay.“Youmightaswelltellmewhat’sonyourmind.”

“There’snothingtotell,”herepliesautomatically.Thistimehepointshiseyesatthefloorandputshishandsinhispockets.“IfIseemoff,it’sbecauseI’mworriedaboutEden.He’sgottenayearoftreatmentforhiseyesandhestillcan’tseemuch.Thedoctorstellmethathemayneedsomespecialcontacts,andeventhen,hemightnevergethisfulleyesightback.”

Icantellthisisn’ttherealreasonbehindDay’sexhaustedappearance,butheknowsthatbringingEden’srecoveryintothisconversationwillstopanyquestionsfromme.Well,ifhereallydoesn’twanttotellme,thenIwon’tpressurehim.Iclearmythroatawkwardly.“That’sterrible,”Iwhisper.“I’msosorrytohearit.Ishedoingokay,otherwise?”

Daynods.Wefallbackintoourmoonlitsilence.Ican’thelprecallingthelasttimewewerealoneinaroomtogether,whenhetookmyfaceinhishands,whenhistearswerefallingagainstmycheeks.IrememberthewayhewhisperedI’msorryagainstmylips.Now,aswestandthreefeetapartandstareateachother,Ifeelthefulldistancethatcomeswithspendingsomuchtimeapart,amomentfilledwiththeelectricityofafirstmeetingandtheuncertaintyofstrangers.

Dayleanstowardme,asifdrawnbysomeinvisibleforce.Thetragicpleaonhisfacetwistsmystomachintopainfulknots.Pleasedon’taskthisofme,hiseyesbeg.Pleasedon’taskmetogiveupmybrother.Iwoulddoanythingelsefor

you.Justnotthis.“June,I...,”hewhispers.Hisvoicethreatenstobreakwithalltheheartachehe’skeepingbottledinside.

Heneverfinishesthatsentence.Instead,hesighsandbowshishead.“Ican’tagreetoyourElector’sterms,”hesaysinasombertone.“I’mnotgoingtohandmybrothertotheRepublicasanotherexperiment.TellhimI’llworkwithhimtofindanothersolution.Iunderstandhowseriousthisallis—Idon’twanttoseetheRepublicfall.I’dbegladtohelpandfiguresomethingelseout.ButEdenstaysoutofthis.”

Andthat’stheendofourconversation.Daynodsatmeinfarewell,lingersforafewlastseconds,andthenstepstowardthedoor.Ileanagainstthewallinsuddenexhaustion.Withouthimnearby,there’salackofenergy,adullingofcolor,graymoonlightwheremomentsearliertherehadbeensilver.Istudyhispalenessafinaltime,analyzinghimfromthecornerofmyeye.Heavoidsmygaze.Somethingiswrong,andherefusestotellmewhatitis.

WhatamImissinghere?Hepullsthedooropen.Hisexpressionhardensrightbeforehestepsoutof

theroom.“AndifforsomereasontheRepublictriestotakeEdenbyforce,I’llturnthepeopleagainstAndensofastthatarevolutionwillbeonhimbeforehecanblink.”

SERIOUSLY,ISHOULDBEUSEDTOMYNIGHTMARESBYNOW.ThistimeIdreamaboutmeandEdenataSanFranciscohospital.A

doctor’sfittingEdenwithanewpairofglasses.Weendupatahospitalatleastonceaweek,sothattheycanmonitorhowEden’seyesareslowlyadjustingtomedication,butthisisthefirsttimeIseethedoctorsmileencouraginglyatmybrother.Mustbeagoodsign,yeah?

Edenturnstome,grins,andpuffshischestoutinanexaggeratedgesture.Ihavetolaugh.“Howdoesitlook?”heasksme,fiddlingwithhishugenewframes.Hiseyesstillhavethatweird,palepurplecolor,andhecan’tfocusonme,butInoticethathecannowmakeoutthingslikethewallsaroundhimandthelightcominginfromthewindows.Myheartjumpsatthesight.Progress.

“Youlooklikeaneleven-year-oldowl,”Ireply,walkingovertorufflehishair.Hegigglesandbatsmyhandaway.

Aswesittogetherintheoffice,waitingforpaperwork,IwatchEdenbusilyfoldingpiecesofpapertogetherintosomekindofelaboratedesign.Hehastohunchclosetothepaperstoseewhathe’sdoing,hisbrokeneyesalmostcrossedwithconcentration,hisfingersnimbleanddeliberate.Iswear,thiskid’salwaysmakingsomethingorother.

“Whatisit?”Iaskhimafterawhile.He’sconcentratingtoohardtoanswermerightaway.Finally,whenhe

tucksonelastpapertriangleintothedesign,heholdsitupandgivesmethatcheekygrin.“Here,”hesays,pointingtowhatlookslikeapaperleafstickingoutoftheballofpaper.“Pullthis.”

Idoashesays.Tomyamazement,thedesigntransformsintoanelaborate3-Dpaperrose.Ismilebackathiminmydream.“Prettyimpressive.”

Edentakeshispaperdesignback.Inthatinstant,analarmblaresthroughoutthehospital.Edendropsthe

paperflowerandjumpstohisfeet.Hisblindeyesarewideopeninterror.Iglancetothehospital’swindows,wheredoctorsandnurseshavegathered.OutalongthehorizonofSanFrancisco,arowofColoniesairshipssailcloserandclosertous.Thecitybelowthemburnsfromadozenfires.

Thealarmdeafensme.IgrabEden’shandandrushusoutoftheroom.“Wehavetogetoutofhere,”Ishout.Whenhestumbles,unabletoseewherewe’regoing,Ihoisthimontomyback.Peoplerushallaroundus.

Ireachthestairwell—andthere,alineofRepublicsoldiersstopsus.OneofthempullsEdenoffmyback.Hescreams,kickingoutatpeoplehecan’tsee.Istruggletofreemyselffromthesoldiers,buttheirgripisironclad,andmylimbsfeellikethey’resinkingintodeepmud.Weneedhim,someunrecognizablevoicewhispersintomyear.Hecansaveusall.

Iscreamoutloud,butnoonecanhearme.Offinthedistance,theColoniesairshipsaimatthehospital.Glassshattersallaroundus.Ifeeltheheatoffire.OnthefloorliesEden’spaperflower,itsedgescrispingfromflames.Icannolongerseemybrother.

He’sgone.He’sdead.

***

Apoundingheadachepullsmefrommysleep.Thesoldiersvanish—thealarmsilences—thechaosofthehospitaldisappearsintothedarkbluehueofourbedroom.ItrytotakeadeepbreathandlookaroundforEden,buttheheadachestabsintothebackofmyskulllikeanicepick,andIboltuprightwithagaspofpain.NowIrememberwhereIreallyam.I’minatemporaryapartmentbackinDenver,themorningafterseeingJune.Onthebedroomdressersitsmyusualtransmissionbox,thestationstilltunedtooneoftheairwavesIthoughtthePatriotsmight’vebeenusing.

“Daniel?”Inthebednexttomine,Edenstirs.Reliefhitsme,eveninthemidstofmyagony.Justanightmare.Likealways.Justanightmare.“Areyouokay?”Ittakesmeasecondtorealizethatdawnhasn’tquitearrived—theroomstilllooksdark,andallIcanseeismybrother’ssilhouetteagainstthebluishblackofthenight.

Idon’tanswerrightaway.Instead,Iswingmylegsoverthesideofthebedtofacehimandclutchmyheadinbothhands.Anotherjoltofpainhitsthebaseofmybrain.“Getmymedicine,”ImuttertoEden.

“ShouldIgetLucy?”

“No.Don’twakeher,”Ireply.Lucy’salreadyhadtwosleeplessnightsbecauseofme.“Medicine.”

Thepainmakesmeruderthanusual,butEdenjumpsoutofbedbeforeIcanapologize.Heimmediatelystartsfumblingforthebottleofgreenpillsthatalwayssitsonthedresserbetweenourbeds.Hegrabsitandholdsoutthebottleinmygeneraldirection.

“Thanks.”Itakeitfromhim,pourthreepillsintomypalmwithashakinghand,andtrytoswallowthem.Throat’stoodry.Ipushmyselfupfromthebedandstaggertowardthekitchen.Behindme,Edenuttersanother“Areyousureyou’reokay?”butthepaininmyheadissostrongthatIcanhardlyhearhim.Icanhardlyevensee.

Ireachthekitchensinkandturnthefauceton,cupsomewaterintomyhands,anddrinkitdownwiththemedicine.ThenIslidedowntothefloorinthedarkness,restingmybackagainstthecoldmetaloftherefrigeratordoor.

It’sokay,Iconsolemyself.Myheadacheshadworsenedoverthepastyear,butthedoctorsassuredmethattheseattacksshouldlastnolongerthanahalfhoureachtime.Ofcourse,theyalsotoldmethatifanyofthemfeltunusuallysevere,Ishouldberushedtotheemergencyroomrightaway.SoeverytimeIgetone,IwonderifI’mexperiencingatypicalday—orthelastdayofmylife.

Afewminuteslater,Edenstumblesintothekitchenwithhiswalkingmeteron,thedevicebeepingwheneverhegetstooclosetoawall.“MaybeweshouldaskLucytocallthedoctors,”hewhispers.

Idon’tknowwhy,butthesightofEdenfeelinghiswaythroughthekitchensendsmeintoafitoflow,uncontrollablelaughter.“Man,lookatus,”Ireply.Mylaughterturnsintocoughs.“Whatateam,yeah?”

Edenfindsmebyplacingatentativehandonmyhead.Hesitsbesidemewithhislegscrossedandgivesmeawrygrin.“Hey—withyourmetallegandhalfabrain,andmyfourleftoversenses,wealmostmakeawholeperson.”

Ilaughharder,butitmakesthepainofmyheadachethatmuchworse.“Whendidyouturnsosarcastic,littleboy?”Igivehimanaffectionateshove.

Westayhunchedinsilenceforthenexthourastheheadachegoesonandon.I’mnowwrithinginpain.Sweatsoaksmywhitecollarshirtandtearsstreakmyface.Edensitsnexttomeandgripsmyhandinhissmall

ones.“Trynottothinkaboutit,”heurgesunderhisbreath,squintingatmewithhispalepurpleeyes.Hepusheshisblack-rimmedglassesfartheruphisnose.Bitsandpiecesofmynightmarecomebacktome,imagesofhishandgettingyankedoutofmine.Soundsofhisscreams.Isqueezehishandsotightlythathewinces.“Don’tforgettobreathe.Thedoctoralwayssaystakingdeepbreathsissupposedtohelp,right?Breathein,breatheout.”

Iclosemyeyesandtrytofollowmylittlebrother’scommands,butit’shardtohearhimatallthroughthepoundingofmyheadache.Thepainisexcruciating,all-consuming,awhite-hotknifestabbingrepeatedlyintothebackofmybrain.Breathein,breatheout.Here’sthepattern—firstthere’sadull,numbingache,followedshortlybytheabsoluteworstpainyoucaneverimaginegoingintoyourhead,aspearshovedthroughyourskull,andtheimpactofitissohardthatyourentirebodygoesstiff;itlastsforasolidthreeseconds,followedbyasplitsecondofrelief.Andthenitrepeatsitselfalloveragain.

“Howlonghasitbeen?”IgaspouttoEden.Dimbluelightisslowlyfilteringinfromthewindows.

Edenpullsoutatinysquarecomandpressesitsloneknob.“Time?”heasksit.Thedeviceimmediatelyresponds,“Zerofivethirty.”Heputsitaway,aconcernedfrownonhisface.“It’sbeenalmostanhour.Hasitgoneonthislongbefore?”

I’mdying.Ireallyamdying.It’stimeslikethiswhenI’mgladthatIdon’tseemuchofJuneanymore.Thethoughtofherseeingmesweatinganddirtyonmykitchenfloor,clutchingmybabybrother’shandfordearlifelikesomeweepyweakling,whileshe’sbreathtakinginherscarletgownandjewel-studdedhair...Youknow,forthatmatter,inthismomentI’mevenrelievedthatMomandJohncan’tseeme.

WhenImoanfromanotherexcruciatingstabofpain,Edenpullsouthiscomagainandpressestheknob.“That’sit.I’mcallingthedoctors.”Whenthecombeeps,promptinghimforhiscommand,hesays,“Dayneedsanambulance.”Then,beforeIcanprotest,heraiseshisvoiceandcallsoutforLucy.

Secondslater,IhearLucyapproach.Shedoesn’tturnthelighton—sheknowsthatitonlymakesmyheadachesthatmuchworse.Instead,Iseeherstoutsilhouetteinthedarknessandhearherexclaim,“Day!Howlonghaveyoubeenouthere?”Sherushesovertomeandputsoneplumphandagainstmycheek.ThensheglancesatEdenandtoucheshischin.“Didyou

callforthedoctors?”Edennods.Lucyinspectsmyfaceagain,thencluckshertonguein

worrieddisapprovalandbustlesofftograbacooltowel.ThelastplaceIwanttoberightnowislyinginaRepublichospital—but

Eden’salreadyplacedthecall,andI’drathernotbedeadanyway.Myvisionhasstartedtoblur,andIrealizeit’sbecauseIcan’tstopmyeyesfromwateringnonstop.IwipeahandacrossmyfaceandsmileweaklyatEden.“Damn,I’mdrippingwaterlikealeakyfaucet.”

Edentriestosmileback.“Yeah,you’vehadbetterdays,”hereplies.“Hey,kid.RememberthattimewhenJohnaskedyoutobeinchargeof

wateringtheplantsoutsideourdoor?”Edenfrownsforasecond,diggingthroughhismemories,andthena

grinlightsuphisface.“Ididaprettygoodjob,didn’tI?”“Youbuiltthatlittlemakeshiftcatapultinfrontofourdoor.”Iclosemy

eyesandindulgeinthememory,atemporarydistractionfromallthepain.“Yeah,Irememberthatthing.Youkeptlobbingwaterballoonsatthosepoorflowers.Didtheyevenhaveanypetalsleftafteryouweredone?Ohman,Johnwassopissed.”HewasevenmadderbecauseEdenwasonlyfouratthetimeand,well,howdoyoupunishyourwide-eyedbabybrother?

Edengiggles.Iwinceasanotherwaveofagonyhitsme.“WhatwasitthatMomusedtosayaboutus?”heasks.NowIcantell

thathe’stryingtokeepmymindonotherthingstoo.Imanageasmile.“Momusedtosaythathavingthreeboyswaskindof

likehavingapettornadothattalkedback.”Thetwoofuslaughforamoment,atleastbeforeIsquintmyeyesshutagain.

Lucycomesbackwiththetowel.Sheplacesitagainstmyforehead,andIsighinreliefatitscoolsurface.Shechecksmypulse,thenmytemperature.

“Daniel,”Edenpipesupwhilesheworks.Hescootscloser,hiseyesstillstaringblanklyoffataspottotherightofmyhead.“Hanginthere,okay?”

Lucyshootshimacriticalfrownatwhathistoneimplies.“Eden,”shescolds.“Moreoptimisminthishouse,please.”

Alumprisesinmythroat,turningmybreathshallower.John’sgone,Mom’sgone,Dad’sgone.IwatchEdenwithaheavyacheinmychest.Iusedtohopethatsincehewastheyoungestofusboys,hemightbeabletolearnfromJohn’sandmymistakesandbetheluckiestoutofus,maybemakeitintoacollegeorearnagoodlivingasamechanic,thatwe’dbearoundtoguidehimthroughthedifficulttimesinlife.Whatwouldhappen

tohimifIweregonetoo?WhathappensifhehastostandaloneagainsttheRepublic?

“Eden,”Isuddenlywhispertohim,pullinghimclose.Hiseyeswidenatmyurgenttone.“Listenclose,yeah?IftheRepubliceverasksyoutogowiththem,ifI’mevernothomeorI’minthehospitalandtheycomeknockingonourdoor,don’tevergowiththem.Youunderstandme?Youcallmefirst,youscreamforLucy,you...”Ihesitate.“YoucallforJuneIparis.”

“YourPrinceps-Elect?”“She’snotmy—”Igrimaceatanotherwaveofpain.“Justdoit.Call

her.Tellhertostopthem.”“Idon’tunderstand—”“Promiseme.Don’tgowiththem,whateveryoudo.Okay?”My

answer’scutshortwhenajoltofpainhitsmehardenoughtosendmecollapsingtotheground,curledupintoatightball.Ichokeoutashriek—myheadfeelslikeit’sbeingsplitintwo.Ievenputatremblinghandtothebackofmyheadasiftomakesuremybrain’snotleakingoutontothefloor.Somewhereaboveme,Edenisshouting.Lucyplacesanothercalltothedoctor,thistimefrantic.

“Justhurry!”sheyells.“Hurry!”Bythetimethemedicsarrive,I’mfadinginandoutofconsciousness.

Throughacloudofhazeandfog,Ifeelmyselfgettingliftedoffthekitchenfloorandcarriedoutoftheapartmenttower,thenintoawaitingambulancethathasbeendisguisedtolooklikearegularpolicejeep.Isitsnowing?Afewlightflakesdriftontomyface,shockingmewithpinpricksofcoldness.IcalloutforEdenandLucy—theyrespondfromsomewhereIcan’tsee.

Thenwe’reintheambulanceandpullingaway.AllIseeforalongtimeareblobsofcolor,fuzzycirclesmovingbackand

forthacrossmyvision,likeI’mpeeringthroughthick,bumpyglass.Itrytorecognizesomeofthem.Aretheypeople?Isureashellhopeso—otherwiseIreallymusthavedied,ormaybeI’mfloatingintheoceananddebrisisjustdriftingallaroundme.Thatdoesn’tmakeanysense,though,unlessthedoctorsjustdecidedtotossmerightintothePacificandforgetaboutme.Where’sEden?Theymust’vetakenhimaway.Justlikeinthenightmare.They’vedraggedhimofftothelabs.

Ican’tbreathe.Myhandstrytoflyuptomythroat,butthensomeoneshoutssomething

andIfeelweightagainstmyarms,pinningmedown.Somethingcoldisgoingdownmythroat,chokingme.

“Calmdown!You’reokay.Trytoswallow.”Idoasthevoicesays.SwallowingturnsouttobemoredifficultthanI

thought,butIfinallymanageagulp,andwhateverthecoldthingisslidesrightdownmythroatandintomystomach,chillingmetomycore.

“There,”thevoicegoeson,lessagitatednow.“Shouldhelpwithanyfutureheadaches,Ithink.”Hedoesn’tseemtobetalkingtomeanymore—andasecondlater,anothervoicechimesin.

“Seemstobeworkingalittle,Doctor.”Imust’vepassedoutagainafterthat,becausethenexttimeIwakeup,

thepatternontheceiling’sdifferentandlateafternoonlightisslantingintomyroom.Iblinkandlookaround.Theexcruciatingpaininmyheadisgone,atleastfornow.IcanalsoseeclearlyenoughtoknowI’minahospitalroom,theever-presentportraitofAndenononewallandascreenagainstanotherwall,broadcastingnews.Igroan,thenclosemyeyesandletoutasigh.Stupidhospitals.Sosickofthem.

“Patientisawake.”Iturntoseeamonitornearmybedsidethatrecitesthephrase.Asecondlater,arealhuman’svoicepopsupoveritsspeakers.“MisterWing?”itsays.

“Yeah?”Imutterback.“Excellent,”thevoicereplies.“Yourbrotherwillbeinshortlytosee

you.”Nosoonerthanhervoiceclicksoff,mydoorburstsopenandEden

comesrunninginwithtwoexasperatednurseshotonhistail.“Daniel,”hegaspsout,“you’refinallyawake!Suretookyoulongenough.”Hislackofsightcatchesupwithhim—hestumblesagainsttheedgeofadrawerbeforeIcanwarnhim,andthenurseshavetocatchhimintheirarmstokeephimfromfallingtothefloor.

“Easythere,kid,”Icallout.Myvoicesoundstired,eventhoughIfeelalertandpain-free.“HowlongwasIout?Whereis...?”Ipause,confusedforamoment.That’sweird.Whatwasourcaretaker’snameagain?Igraspforitinmythoughts.Lucy.“Where’sLucy?”Ifinish.

Hedoesn’tanswerrightaway.WhenthenursesfinallysituateEdenbesidemeinbed,hecrawlsclosertomeandflingshisarmsaroundmyneck.Tomyshock,Irealizethathe’scrying.“Hey.”Ipathishead.“Calmdown—it’sokay.I’mawake.”

“Ithoughtyouweren’tgoingtomakeit,”hemurmurs.Hispaleeyessearchformine.“Ithoughtyouweregone.”

“Well,I’mnot.I’mrighthere.”Ilethimsobforalittlewhile,hisheadburiedagainstmychest,histearsblurringhisglassesandstainingmyhospitalgown.There’sacopingmechanismI’vestartedusingrecentlywhereIpretendtoretreatbackintotheshellofmyheartandcrawloutofmybody,likeI’mnotreallyhereandaminsteadobservingtheworldfromanotherperson’sperspective.Eden’snotmybrother.He’snotevenreal.Nothingisreal.Everythingisillusion.Ithelps.IwaitwithoutemotionasEdengraduallycomposeshimself,andthenIcarefullyletmyselfbackintomybody.

Finally,whenhe’swipedawaythelastofhistears,hesitsupandburrowsinbesideme.“Lucy’sfillingoutpaperworkupfront.”Hisvoicestillsoundsalittleshaky.“You’vebeenoutforabouttenhours.Theysaidtheyhadtorushyououtofourbuildingthroughthemainentrance—therejustwasn’tanytimetotrysneakingyouout.”

“Didanyonesee?”Edenrubshistemplesinanattempttoremember.“Maybe.Idon’t

know.Ican’tremember—Iwastoodistracted.Ispentallmorningoutinthewaitingroombecausetheywouldn’tletmeinside.”

“Doyouknow...”Iswallow.“Haveyouheardanythingfromthedoctors?”

Edensighsinrelief.“Notreally.Butatleastyou’reokaynow.Thedoctorssaidyouhadabadreactiontothemedicinetheyputyouon.They’retakingyouoffitandtryingsomethingdifferent.”

ThewayEdensaysthismakesmyheartbeatfaster.Hedoesn’tfullygrasptherealityofthesituation—hestillthinksthattheonlyreasonI’dcollapsedlikethatwasn’tbecauseI’mgettingworse,butbecauseIjusthadabadreaction.Asick,sinkingfeelinghitsmystomach.Ofcoursehe’dbeoptimisticaboutitall;ofcoursehethinksthisisjustatemporarysetback.I’dbeenonthatdamnmedicationforthelasttwomonthsafterthefirsttworoundsalsostoppedworking,andwithalltheextraheadachesandnightmaresandnausea,I’dhopedthatthepillshadatleastdonesomegood,thattheyweresuccessfullyshrinkingtheproblemspotinmyhippocampus—theirfancywordforthebottomofmybrain.Apparentlynot.Whatifnothingworks?

Itakeadeepbreathandputonasmileformybrother.“Well,atleast

theyknownow.Maybethey’lltrysomethingbetterthistime.”Edensmilesalong,sweetandnaïve.“Yeah.”Severalminuteslater,mydoctorcomesinandEdenmovesbackoutside

tothewaitingroom.Asthedoctortalksinalowvoicetomeabout“ournextoptions,”whattreatmentsthey’lltrytoexperimentwithnext,healsoquietlytellsmehowsmallofachancetheyhave.LikeIfeared,myreactionwasn’tjustsometemporarymedicineissue.“Themedicationisslowlyshrinkingtheaffectedarea,”thedoctorsays,buthisexpressionstaysgrim.“Still,theareacontinuestofester,andyourbodyhasbeguntorejecttheoldmedication,forcingustosearchfornewones.Wearequitesimplyracingagainsttheclock,Day,tryingtoshrinkitenoughandpullitoutbeforeitcandoitsworst.”Ilistentoitallwithastraightface;hisvoicesoundslikeit’sunderwater,unimportantandoutoffocus.

Finally,Istophimandsay,“Look,justtellmestraightup.HowmuchlongerdoIhave?Ifnothingworksout?”

Thedoctorpurseshislips,hesitates,andthenshakeshisheadwithasigh.“Probablyamonth,”headmits.“Maybetwo.We’redoingthebestwecan.”

Amonthortwo.Well,they’vebeenwronginthepast—amonthortwoprobablymeansmorelikefourorfive.Still.Ilooktowardthedoor,whereEden’sprobablypressedagainstthewoodandtryinginvaintohearwhatwe’resaying.ThenIturnbacktothedoctorandswallowthelumpinmythroat.“Twomonths,”Iecho.“Isthereanychance?”

“Wemighttrysomeriskiertreatments,althoughthosehavesideeffectsthatmaybefatalifyoureactbadlytothem.Asurgerybeforeyou’rereadywilllikelykillyou.”Thedoctorcrosseshisarms.Hisglassescatchthecoldfluorescentlightandshineinawaythatblocksouthiseyesentirely.Helookslikeamachine.“Iwouldsuggest,Day,thatyoubegingettingyourprioritiesinorder.”

“Myprioritiesinorder?”“Prepareyourbrotherforthenews,”hereplies.“Andsettleany

unfinishedbusiness.”

AT0810HOURSONTHEMORNINGAFTERTHEEMERGENCYbanquet,Andencallsme.“It’sCaptainBryant,”hesays.“Hehasputinhislastrequest,andhislastrequestistoseeyou.”

Isitattheedgeofmybed,blinkingawayanightoffitfulsleep,tryingtoworkuptheenergytounderstandwhatAndenistellingme.

“TomorrowwetransferhimtoaprisonontheothersideofDenvertoprepareforhisfinalday.He’saskedifhecanseeyoubeforethen.”

“Whatdoeshewant?”“Whateverhehastosay,hewantsitheardbyyourearsalone,”Anden

replies.“Remember,June—youhavetheoptiontorefusehim.Wedon’thavetograntthislastrequest.”

Tomorrow,Thomaswillbedead.IwonderwhetherAndenfeelsanyguiltoversentencingasoldiertodie.ThethoughtoffacingThomasaloneinajailcellsendsawaveofpanicthroughme,butIsteelmyself.MaybeThomashassomethingtosayaboutmybrother.DoIwanttohearit?

“I’llseehim,”Ifinallyreply.“Andhopefullythisisthelasttime.”Andenmusthearsomethinginmyvoice,becausehiswordssoften.“Of

course.I’llarrangeforyourescort.”

0930HOURS.DENVERSTATEPENITENTIARY.

ThehallwhereThomasandCommanderJamesonarebeingheldislitwithcold,fluorescentlight,andthesoundofmybootsechoesagainstthehighceiling.Severalsoldiersflankme,butasidefromus,thehallfeelsemptyandominous.PortraitsofAndenhangatsporadicintervalsalongthewalls.Myeyesstayfocusedoneachofthecellswepass,studyingthem,detailsrunningthroughmy

mindinanefforttokeepmyselfcalmandfocused.(32×32feetinsize,smoothsteelwalls,bulletproofglass,camsmountedoutsideofthecellsinsteadofinside.Mostofthemareempty,andtheonesthatarefilledholdthreeoftheSenatorswhohadplottedagainstAnden.ThisfloorisreservedforprisonersassociatedspecificallywithAnden’sattemptedassassination.)

“Ifyouexperienceanytroubleatall,”oneofthesoldierssaystome,tappinghiscapinapolitebow,“justcallusin.We’llhavethattraitordownonthegroundbeforehecanmakeamove.”

“Thankyou,”Ireply,myeyesstillfixedonthecellsaswedrawcloser.IknowIwon’tneedtodowhathejustsaid,becauseIknowThomaswon’teverdisobeytheElectorandtrytohurtme.Thomasismanythings,butheisn’trebellious.

Wereachtheendofthehallwheretwoadjacentcellssit,eachoneguardedbytwosoldiers.

Someonestirsinthecellclosesttome.Iturntowardthemovement.Idon’tevenhavetimetostudythecell’sinteriorbeforeawomanrapsherfingersagainstthesteelbars.Ijump,thenswallowthecrythatrisesupinmythroatasIstareintothefaceofCommanderJameson.

Asshefixeshereyesonmine,shegivesmeasmilethatmakesmebreakoutinacoldsweat.Irememberthissmile—she’dsmiledlikethisonthenightMetiasdied,whensheapprovedmetobecomeajunioragentinherpatrol.Thereisnoemotionthere,nothingcompassionateorevenangry.Fewthingsfrightenme—butfacingthecold,mercilessexpressionofmybrother’struekillerisoneofthem.

“Well,”shesaysinalowvoice.“Ifitisn’tIparis,comeheretoseeus.”Hereyesflickertome;thesoldiersgatherclosertomeinaprotectivegesture.Don’tbeafraid.IstraightenaswellasIcan,thenclenchmyjawandforcemyselftofaceherwithoutflinching.

“You’rewastingmytime,Commander,”Isay.“I’mnothereforyou.AndthenexttimeIseeyouwillbethedayyoustandbeforethefiringsquad.”

Shejustsmilesatme.“Sobrave,nowthatyouhaveyourhandsomeyoungElectortohidebehind.Isn’tthatso?”WhenInarrowmyeyes,shelaughs.“CommanderDeSotowould’vebeenabetterElectorthanthatboycouldeverbe.WhentheColoniesinvade,they’llburnthiscountrytotheground.Thepeoplewillregreteverputtingtheirsupportbehindalittleboy.”Shepressesagainstthebars,asiftryingtoedgeasclosetomeaspossible.Iswallowhard,buteventhroughmyfear,myangerboilsunderthesurface.Idon’tlookaway.

It’sstrange,butIthinkIseeasheenofglossacrosshereyes,somethingthatlooksdisconcertingaboveherunstablesmile.“Youwereoneofmyfavorites.DoyouknowwhyIwassointerestedinhavingyouonmypatrol?It’sbecauseIsawmyselfreflectedinyou.We’rethesame,youandI.Iwould’vebeenPrinceps,too,youknow.Ideservedit.”

Goosebumpsriseonmyarms.AmemoryflashesthroughmymindofthenightMetiasdied,whenCommanderJamesonescortedmetowherehisbodylay.“Toobadthatdidn’tworkout,isn’tit?”Isnap.ThistimeIcan’tkeepthevenomoutofmywords.IhopetheyexecuteyouasunceremoniouslyastheydidRazor.

CommanderJamesononlylaughsatme.Hereyesdilate.“Betterbecareful,Iparis,”shewhispers.“Youmightturnoutjustlikeme.”

Thewordschillmetothebone,andIfinallyhavetoturnawayandbreakmystareawayfromhers.Thesoldiersguardinghercelldon’tlookatme;theyjustkeepstaringforward.Icontinuewalking.Behindme,Icanstillhearhersoft,lowchuckle.Myheartpoundsagainstmyribs.

Thomasisbeingheldinsidearectangularcellwiththickglasswalls,thickenoughthatIcan’thearanythingofwhat’shappeninginside.Iwaitoutside,steadyingmyselfaftermyencounterwithCommanderJameson.ForaninstantIwonderwhetherIshouldhavestayedawayandturneddownhisfinalrequest;maybethatwouldhavebeenforthebest.

Still,ifIleavenow,I’llhavetofaceCommanderJamesonagain.Imightneedalittlemoretimetopreparemyselfforthat.SoItakeadeepbreathandsteptowardthesteelbarsliningThomas’scelldoor.Aguardopensit,letstwoadditionalguardsinafterme,andthenclosesitbehindus.Ourfootstepsechointhesmall,emptychamber.

Thomasgetsupwithaclankofhischains.HelooksmoredisheveledthanI’veeverseenhim,andIknowthatifhishandswerecompletelyfree,he’dgoaboutironinghisrumpleduniformandcombinghisunrulyhairrightaway.Butinstead,Thomasclickshisheelstogether.NotuntilItellhimtorelaxhisstancedoeshelookatme.

“It’sgoodtoseeyou,Princeps-Elect,”hesays.Isthereahintofsadnessinhisserious,sternface?“Thankyouforindulgingmyfinalrequest.Itwon’tbelongnowbeforeyou’reridofmeentirely.”

Ishakemyhead,angrywithmyself,irritatedthatinspiteofeverythinghehasdone,Thomas’sunshakableloyaltytotheRepublicstillstirsadropofsympathyfromme.“Sitdownandmakeyourselfcomfortable,”Itellhim.He

doesn’thesitateforasecond—inauniformmotion,webothkneeldownontothecoldcellfloor,himleaningagainstthecellwall,mefoldingmylegsunderneathme.Westaylikethatforamoment,lettingtheawkwardsilencebetweenuslinger.

Ispeakupfirst.“Youdon’tneedtobesoloyaltotheRepublicanymore,”Ireply.“Youcanletgo,youknow.”

Thomasonlyshakeshishead.“It’sthedutyofaRepublicsoldiertobeloyaltotheend,andI’mstillasoldier.IwillbeoneuntilIdie.”

Idon’tknowwhythethoughtofhimdyingtugsonmyheartstringsinsomanystrangeways.I’mhappy,relieved,angry,sad.“Whydidyouwanttoseeme?”Ifinallyask.

“Ms.Iparis,beforetomorrowcomes...”Thomastrailsoffforasecondbeforecontinuing.“IwanttotellyouthefulldetailsofeverythingthathappenedtoMetiasthatnightatthehospital.Ijustfeel...IfeellikeIoweittoyou.Ifanyoneshouldknow,it’syou.”

Myheartbeginstopound.AmIreadytoreliveallofthatagain—doIneedtoknowthis?Metiasisgone;knowingthedetailsofwhathappenedwillnotbringhimback.ButIfindmyselfmeetingThomas’sgazewithacalm,levellook.Hedoesoweittome.Moreimportantly,Ioweittomybrother.AfterThomasisexecuted,someoneshouldcarryonthememoryofmybrother’sdeath,ofwhatreallyhappened.

Slowly,Isteadymyheartbeat.WhenIopenmymouth,myvoicecracksalittle.“Fine,”Ireply.

Hisvoicegrowsquieter.“Iremembereverythingaboutthatnight.Everylastdetail.”

“Tellme,then.”Liketheobedientsoldierheis,Thomasbeginshisstory.“Onthenightof

yourbrother’sdeath,ItookacallfromCommanderJameson.Wewerewaitingwiththejeepsoutsidethehospital’sentrance.Metiaswaschattingwithanurseinfrontofthemainslidingdoors.Istoodbehindthejeepssomedistanceaway.Thenthecallcame.”

AsThomasspeaks,theprisonaroundusmeltsawayandisreplacedbythesceneofthatfatefulnight,thehospitalandthemilitaryjeepandthesoldiers,thestreetsasifIwerewalkingrightbesideThomas,seeingallthathesaw.Relivingtheevents.

“IwhisperedagreetingtoCommanderJamesonovermyearpiece,”Thomascontinues.“Shedidn’tbothergreetingmeback.

“‘Ithastobedonetonight,’shetoldme.‘Ifwedon’tactnow,yourcaptainmayplananactoftreasonagainsttheRepublic,orevenagainsttheElector.I’mgivingyouadirectorder,LieutenantBryant.FindawaytogetCaptainIparistoaprivatespottonight.Idon’tcarehowyoudoit.’”

Thomaslooksmeintheeyenowandrepeats,“AnactoftreasonagainsttheRepublic.Itightenedmyjaw.I’dbeendreadingthisinevitablecall,eversinceI’dfirstlearnedaboutMetias’shackingintothedeceasedcivilians’databases.KeepingsecretsfromCommanderJamesonwasdamnnearimpossible.Myeyesdartedtoyourbrotherattheentrance.‘Yes,Commander,’Iwhispered.

“‘Good,’shesaid.‘Tellmewhenyou’reready—I’llsendinseparateorderstotherestofyourpatroltobeatadifferentlocationduringthattime.Makeitquickandclean.’

“That’swhenmyhandbegantoshake.ItriedtoarguewiththeCommander,buthervoiceonlyturnedcolder.‘Ifyoudon’tdoit,Iwill.Believeme,Iwillbemessieraboutit—andnoone’sgoingtobehappythatway.Understood?’

“Ididn’tanswerherrightaway.InsteadIwatchedyourbrotherasheshookhandswiththenurse.Heturnedaround,searchingforme,andthenspottedmebythejeeps.Hewavedmeover,andInodded,carefultokeepmyfaceblank.‘Understood,Commander,’Ifinallyanswered.

“‘Youcandoit,Bryant,’shetoldme.‘Andifyou’resuccessful,consideryourselfpromotedtocaptain.’Thecallcutoff.

“IjoinedMetiasandanothersoldieratthehospitalentrance.Metiassmiledatme.‘Anotherlongnight,eh?Iswear,ifwe’restuckhereuntildawnagain,I’llwhinetoCommanderJamesonlikethere’snotomorrow.’

“Iforcedmyselftolaughalong.‘Let’shopeforanuneventfulnight,then.’Theliefeltsosmooth.

“‘Yes,let’shopeforthat,’Metiassaid.‘AtleastIhaveyouforcompany.’“‘Likewise,’Itoldhim.Metiasglancedbackatme,hiseyeshoveringfora

beat,thenlookedawayagain.“Thefirstminutespassedwithoutincident.Butthen,momentslater,aragged

slum-sectorboydraggedhimselfuptotheentranceandstoppedtotalktoanurse.Hewasamess—mud,dirt,andbloodsmearedacrosshischeeks,dirtydarkhairpulledawayfromhisface,andanastylimp.‘CanIbeadmitted,cousin?’heaskedthenurse.‘Istherestillroomtonight?Icanpay.’

“Thenursejustcontinuedscribblingonhernotepad.‘Whathappened?’shefinallyasked.

“‘Wasinafight,’theboyreplied.‘IthinkIgotstabbed.’

“Thenurseglancedoveratyourbrother,andMetiasnoddedtotwoofhissoldiers.Theywalkedovertopatdowntheboy.Afterawhile,theypocketedsomethingandwavedtheboyinside.Ashestaggeredpast,IleanedclosertoMetiasandwhispered,‘Don’tlikethelookofthatone.Hedoesn’twalklikesomeonewho’sbeenstabbed,doeshe?’

“Yourbrotherandtheboyexchangedabrieflook.Whentheboyhaddisappearedinsidethehospital,henoddedatme.‘Agreed.Keepaneyeonthatone.Afterourrotation’sdone,I’dliketoquestionhimabit.’”

Thomaspauseshere,searchingmyface,perhapsforpermissiontostoptalking,butIdon’tgiveit.

Hetakesadeepbreathandcontinues.“Iblushedthenathisnearness.Yourbrotherseemedtosenseittoo,andanawkwardsilencepassedbetweenus.I’dalwaysknownabouthisattractiontome,buttonightitseemedparticularlynaked.Maybeithadsomethingtodowithhiswearyday,youruniversityanticsthrowinghimoff,hisusualairofcommandsubduedandtired.Andunderneathmycalmexterior,myhearthammeredagainstmyribs.FindawaytogetCaptainIparistoaprivatespottonight.Idon’tcarehowyoudoit.Thisvulnerabilitywouldbemyonlychance.”

Thomaslooksbrieflydownathishands,butcarrieson.“So,sometimelater,ItappedMetiasontheshoulder.‘Captain,’Imurmured.

‘CanIspeaktoyouinprivateforamoment?’“Metiasblinked.Heaskedme,‘Isthisurgent?’“‘No,sir,’Itoldhim.‘Notquite.But...I’dratheryouknow.’“Yourbrotherstaredatme,momentarilyconfused,searchingforaclue.Then

hemotionedforasoldiertotakehisplaceattheentranceandthetwoofusheadedintoaquiet,darkstreetnearthebackofthehospital.

“Metiasimmediatelydroppedsomeofhisformalpretense.‘Somethingwrong,Thomas?Youdon’tlookwell.’

“AllIcouldthinkwastreasonagainsttheRepublic.Hewouldneverdoit.Wouldhe?We’dgrownuptogether,trainedtogether,grownclose....ThenIrememberedmycommander’sorders.Ifeltthesheathedknifesittingheavilyatmywaist.‘I’mfine,’Itoldhim.

“Butyourbrotherlaughed.‘Comeon.You’veneverneededtohideanythingfrommebefore.Youknowthat,right?’

“Justsayit,Thomas,Itoldmyself.IknewIwasteeteringbetweenthefamiliarandthepointofnoreturn.Forcethewordsout.Lethimhearit.Finally,Ilookedupandsaid,‘Whatisthisbetweenus?’

“Yourbrother’ssmilewavered.Hegrewverysilent.Thenhetookastepback.‘Whatdoyoumean?’

“‘YouknowwhatImean,’Itoldhim.‘This.Alltheseyears.’“NowMetiaswasstudyingmyfaceintently.Longsecondspassed.‘This,’he

finallyreplied,emphasizingtheword,‘can’thappen.You’remysubordinate.’“ThenIasked,‘Butitmeanssomethingtoyou,sir.Doesn’tit?’“SomethingjoyfulandtragicdancedacrossMetias’sface.Hedrewcloser.I

knewthatawallbetweenushadfinallyformedacrack.‘Doesitmeansomethingtoyou?’heaskedme.”

Again,Thomaspauses.Then,inasoftervoice,hesays,“Abladeofguilttwistedpainfullyinmychest,butitwastoolatetoturnback.SoItookastepforward,closedmyeyes,and—Ikissedhim.”

Anotherpause.“Yourbrotherfroze,likeIthoughthewould.Therewascompletestillness.Wedrewapart,thesilenceheavyaroundus,andforamomentIwonderedwhetherI’dmadeahugemistake,whetherI’dsimplymisreadeverysignalfromthepastfewyears.Orperhaps,perhapsheknewwhatIwasupto.Ifeltastrangesenseofreliefatthatthought.Maybeit’dbebetterifMetiasfiguredoutCommanderJameson’splansforhim.Maybethere’sawaytogetoutofthis.

“Butthenheleanedforwardandreturnedthekiss,andthelastofthatwallcrumbledaway.”

“Stop,”Isuddenlysay.Thomasfallssilent.Hetriestohidehisemotionsbehindsomesemblanceofnobility,buttheshameisplainonhisface.Ileanback,turnmyfaceawayfromhim,andpressmyhandstomytemples.Griefthreatenstooverwhelmme.Thomashadn’tjustkilledMetiasknowingthatmybrotherlovedhim.

Thomashadtakenthatknowledgeanduseditagainsthim.Iwantyoutodie.Ihateyou.Thetideofmyangergrowsstrongeruntil

finallyIhearthewhisperofMetias’svoiceinmyhead,thefaintlightofreason.It’sgoingtobeokay,Junebug.Listentome.Everythingisgoingtobeokay.Iwait,myheartbeatingsteadily,untilhisgentlewordsbringmeback.My

eyesopen,andIgiveThomasalevelstare.“Whathappenedafterthat?”IttakesThomasalongmomentbeforehespeaksagain.Whenhedoes,his

voicetrembles.“Therewasnowayout.Metiashadnoideawhatwasgoingon.He’dfallenintotheplanwithblindfaith.Myhandcrepttotheknifeatmywaist,butIcouldn’tbringmyselftodoit.Icouldn’tevenbreathe.”

Myeyesfillwithtears.Iwantsodesperatelytoheareverydetailandatthe

sametimeforThomastostoptalking,toshutthisnightawayandneverreturnagain.

“Analarmcutthroughtheair.Wejumpedapart.Metiaslookedflushedandconfused—onlyasecondlaterdidwebothrealizethatthealarmcamefromthehospital.

“Themomentbroke.Yourbrothersnappedbackintocaptainmodeandrantowardthehospitalentrance.‘Getinside,’heshoutedoverhisearpiece.Hedidn’tlookback.‘Iwanthalfofyouinthere—pinpointthesource.Gathertheothersattheentranceandwaitformycommand.Now!’

“Istartedrunningafterhim.Mychancetostrikehadvanished.IwonderedwhetherCommanderJamesonhadsomehowbeenabletoseemyfailure.TheRepublic’seyesareeverywhere.Theyknoweverything.Ipanicked.Ihadtofindanothermoment,anotherchancetogetyourbrotheralone.IfIcouldn’tdoit,thenMetias’sfatewouldfallintomuchharsherhands.

“BythetimeIcaughtupwithhimattheentrance,hisfacewasdarkwithanger.‘Break-in,’hesaid.‘Itwasthatboywesaw.I’msureofit.Bryant,getfiveandcircleeast.I’llgotheotherway.’Alreadyyourbrotherwasonthemove,gatheringhissoldiers.‘He’sgoingtohavetogetoutofthehospitalsomehow,’hetoldus.‘We’llbewaitingforhimwhenhetries.’

“IdidasMetiascommanded—buttheinstanthewasoutofearshot,Iorderedmysoldierstoheadeastandthensnuckawayintotheshadows.Ihavetofollowhim.Thisismylastchance.IfIfail,I’masgoodasdead,anyway.Sweattrickleddownmyback.Imeltedintotheshadows,remindingmyselfofallthelessonsMetiashadtaughtmeaboutsubtletyandstealth.

“ThenfromsomewhereinthenightIheardglassshatter.Ihidbehindawallasyourbrotherracedpast,aloneandunguarded,towardthesourceofthesound.ThenIfollowed.Thenight’sdarknessswallowedmewhole.Foramoment,IlostMetiasinthebackalleys.Whereishe?Iwhirledaroundinanalley,tryingtofigureoutwhereyourbrotherhadgone.

“Justthen,acallcamethrough.CommanderJamesonbarkedatme.‘You’dbetterfindasecondchancetotakehimdown,Lieutenant.Soon.’

“Finally,minuteslater,IfoundMetias.Hewasalone,strugglingupfromthegroundwithaknifeburiedinhisshoulder,surroundedbybloodandbrokenglass.Afewfeetfromhimlayasewercap.Irushedtohisside.Hesmiledbrieflyatme,whileclutchingtheknifeinhisshoulder.

“‘ItwasDay,’hegasped.‘Heescapeddownthesewers.’Thenhereachedouttome.‘Here.Helpmeup.’

“Thisisyourchance,Itoldmyself.Thisisyouronlychance,andifyoucan’tdoitnow,itwillneverhappen.”

Thomas’svoicefaltersasIsearchformyown.Iwanttostophimagain,butIcan’t.I’mnumb.

Thomasliftshisheadandsays,“IwishIcouldtellyoualltheimageswhirlingthroughmymind—CommanderJamesoninterrogatingMetias,torturinginformationoutofhim,tearingoffhisnails,slicinghimopenuntilhescreamedformercy,killinghimslowlyinthewaythatshedidtoallprisonersofwar.”Ashespeaks,thewordscomefaster,tumblingfromhismouthinafranticjumble.“IpicturedtheRepublic’sflag,theRepublic’sseal,theoathI’dtakenonthedayMetiasacceptedmeintoapatrol.ThatIwouldforeverremainfaithfultomyRepublicandmyElector,untilmydyingday.MyeyesdartedtotheknifeburiedinMetias’sshoulder.Doit.Doitnow,Itoldmyself.Iseizedhiscollar,yankedtheknifefromhisshoulder,andplungeditdeepintohischest.Rightuptothehilt.”

Ihearmyselfgasp.AsifIexpectedadifferentending.AsifonceIhearitenoughtimes,thestorywillchange.Itneverdoes.

“Metiasletoutabrokenshriek,”Thomaswhispers.“Orperhapsitcamefromme—Ican’trememberanymore.Hecollapsedbackontotheground,hishandstillclutchingmywrist.Hiseyeswerewidewithshock.

“‘I’msorry,’Ichokedout.”Thomaslooksatmeashecontinues,hisapologymeantforbothmeandmybrother.“Ikneltoverhistremblingbody.‘I’msorry,I’msorry,’Itoldhim.‘Ihadnochoice.Yougavemenochoice!’”

IcanbarelyhearThomasashecontinues.“Asparkofunderstandingappearedinyourbrother’seyes.Withitcamehurt,somethingthatwentbeyondhisphysicalpain,ableedingmomentofrealization.Thenrevulsion.Disappointment.‘NowIknowwhy,’hewhispered.Ididn’thavetoasktoknowthathewasreferringtoourkiss.

“No!Imeantit!Iwantedtoscream.Itwasagood-bye,theonlyoneIcouldgive.ButImeantit.Ipromise.

“InsteadIsaid,‘WhydidyouhavetocrosstheRepublic?Iwarnedyou,overandoveragain.CrosstheRepublictoomanytimes,andeventuallythey’llburnyou.Iwarnedyou!Itoldyoutolisten!’

“Butyourbrothershookhishead.It’ssomethingyou’llneverunderstand,hiseyesseemedtosay.Bloodleakedfromhismouth,andhisgriptightenedonmywrist.‘Don’thurtJune,’hesaid.‘Shedoesn’tknowanything.’Thenafierce,terrifiedlightappearedinhiseyes.‘Don’thurther.Promiseme.’

“SoItoldhim,‘I’llprotecther.Idon’tknowhow,butI’lltry.Ipromise.’“Thelightgraduallyfadedfromhiseyes,andhisgriploosened.Hestaredat

meuntilhecouldn’tstareanymore,andthenIknewthathewasgone.Move.Getoutofhere,Itoldmyself.ButIstayedcrouchedoverMetias’sbody,mymindblank.Hissuddenabsencehitme.Metiaswasgone,Metiaswasnevercomingback,anditwasallmyfault.No.LonglivetheRepublic.That’swhatreallymattered,Itoldmyself,yes,yes,thatwastheimportantthing.This—whateverthiswasbetweenMetiasandme—wasn’treal,couldneverhavehappenedanyway.NotwithMetiasasmycaptain.NotwithMetiasasacriminalworkingagainstthecountry.Itwasforthebest.Yes.Itwas.

“EventuallyIheardshoutsfromapproachingtroops.Ipickedmyselfup.Iwipedmyeyes.Ihadtocarrythroughnow.I’ddoneit,I’dstayedfaithfultotheRepublic.Somesurvivalinstinctkickedin.Everythingseemedmuted,likeafoghadsettledovermylife.Good.Ineededthestrangecalm,theabsenceofeverything,thatitbrought.Ifoldedmygriefcarefullybackintomychest,asifnothinghadhappened,andwhenthefirsttroopsarrivedonthescene,IplacedacalltoCommanderJameson.

“Ididn’tevenneedtosayaword.Mysilencetoldhereverythingsheneededtoknow.‘FetchLittleIpariswhenyougetachance,’shesaidtome.‘Andwelldone,Captain.’

“Ididn’treply.”Thomasstayssilent;thescenefades.Ifindmyselfbackinhisprisoncell,my

cheeksstreakedwithtears,myheartslicedopenasifhehadstabbedmeinthechestassurelyashe’dstabbedmybrother.

Thomasstaresatthefloorbetweenuswithholloweyes.“Ilovedhim,June,”hesaysafteramoment.“Ireallydid.EverythingIdidasasoldier,allmyhardworkandtraining,wastoimpresshim.”Hisguardisfinallydown,andIcanseethetruedepthofhistorturenow.Hisvoicehardens,asifheistryingtoconvincehimselfofwhathe’ssaying.“IanswertotheRepublic—MetiashimselftrainedmetobewhatIam.Evenheunderstood.”

I’msurprisedbyhowmuchmyheartisbreakingforhim.YoucouldhavehelpedMetiasescape.Youcouldhavedonesomething.Anything.Youcouldhavetried.Butevennow,Thomasdoesn’tbudge.Hewillneverchange,andhewillnever,everknowwhoMetiasreallywas.

Ifinallyrealizethetruereasonherequestedthismeetingwithme.Hewantedtogivearealconfession.Justlikeduringourconversationwhenhefirstarrestedme,heisfishingdesperatelyformyforgiveness,forsomethingtojustify—in

anysmallway—whathedid.Hewantstobelievewhathedidwaswarranted.Hewantsmetosympathize.Hewantspeacebeforehegoes.

Buthe’swastedhiseffortsonme.Icannotgivehimpeace,evenonhisfinalday.Somethingscannotbeforgiven.

“Ifeelsorryforyou,”Isayquietly.“Becauseyou’resoweak.”Thomastightenshislips.Stillsearchingforsomebitofvalidationhesays,“I

could’vechosenDay’sroute.Icouldhavebecomeacriminal.ButIdidn’t.Idideverythingright,youknow.ThatwaswhatMetiaslovedaboutme.Herespectedme.Ifollowedalltherules,Iobeyedallthelaws,IworkedmywayupfromwhereIstarted.”Heleanstowardme;hiseyesgrowmoredesperate.“Itookanoath,June.Iamstillboundbythatoath.IwilldiewithhonorforsacrificingeverythingIhave—everything—formycountry.Andyet,Dayisthelegend,whileIamtobeexecuted.”Hisvoicefinallybreakswithallhisanguishandinnertorment,theinjusticehefeels.“Itmakesnosense.”

Istandup.Behindme,theguardsmovetowardthecelldoor.“You’rewrong,”Isaysadly.“Itmakesperfectsense.”

“Why?”“BecauseDaychosetowalkinthelight.”Iturnmybackonhimforthelast

time.Thedooropens;thecell’sbarsmakewayforthehall,anewrotationofprisonguards,freedom.“AndsodidMetias.”

1532HOURS.

Thatafternoon,IheadtoDenverUniversity’strackwithOllieinanattempttoclearmythoughts.Outside,theskylooksyellowandhazywiththelightoftheafternoonsun.ItrytopicturetheskycoveredwiththeColonies’airships,ablazewiththefirefromaerialdogfightsandexplosions.TwelvedaysbeforeweneedtooffersomethingtotheColonies.WithoutDay’shelp,howareweevergoingtodothat?Thethoughttroublesme,butthankfullyithelpskeepthememoriesofThomasandCommanderJamesonoutofmyhead.Ipickupmypace.Myrunningshoespoundagainstthepavement.

WhenIarriveatthetrack,Inoticeguardsstationedateveryentrance.Atleastfoursoldierspergate.Andenmustbedoinghisexerciseroutinesomewhereoutheretoo.Thesoldiersrecognizeme,letmethrough,andushermeintothestadium,wherethetrackwrapsaroundalarge,openfield.Anden’snowheretobeseen.Perhapshe’sdowninthestadium’sundergroundlockers.

IdoaquickroundofstretcheswhileOlliewaitsimpatiently,dancingfrompawtopaw,andthenIbeginmakingmywaydownthetrack.IrunfasterandfasteralongthecurvedpathuntilI’msprintingaroundtheturns,myhairstreamingoutbehindme,Olliepantingatmyside.IimagineCommanderJamesonsprintingafterme,guninhand.Betterbecareful,Iparis.Youmightturnoutjustlikeme.WhenIlooparoundtothesideofthetrackwithtargetssetup,Iskidtoahalt,whipoutthegunatmybelt,andshootateachofthetargetsinrapidsuccession.Fourbull’s-eyes.Withoutpause,Ilooparoundthetrackagainandrepeatmyroutinethreetimes.Tentimes.Fifteentimes.FinallyIstop,myheartbeatingafrantictuneagainstmychest.

Ishifttoawalk,slowlycatchingmybreath,mythoughtswhirling.IfIhadnevermetDay,couldIhavegrownuptobecomeCommanderJameson?Cold,calculating,merciless?Hadn’tIturnedintoexactlythatwhenIfirstfiguredoutwhoDaywas?Hadn’tIledthesoldiers—ledCommanderJamesonherself—tohisfamily’sdoor,withoutasecondthoughtforwhetherornothisfamilymightbeharmed?Iresetmygun,thenaimatthetargetsagain.Mybulletsthudintothecentersoftheboards.

IfMetiaswerealive,whatwouldhehavethoughtofwhatIdid?No.Ican’tthinkaboutmybrotherwithoutrememberingThomas’s

confessionfromthismorning.Ifiremylastbullet,thensitdowninthemiddleofthetrackwithOllieandburymyheadinmyhands.I’msotired.Idon’tknowifIcaneveroutrunhowIusedtobe.AndnowI’mdoingitalloveragain—tryingtopersuadeDaytogiveuphisbrotheragain,tryingtousehimtotheRepublic’sadvantage.

FinallyIpickmyselfup,wipethesweatfrommybrow,andheadtotheundergroundlockers.Olliesettlesdowntowaitformeunderthecooloverhangnearthedoors;helapshungrilyatapouchofwaterIsetbeforehim.Iheaddownthestairs,thenturnthecorner.Theairishumidfromtheshowers,andthelonescreenembeddedattheendofthehallhasalightfilmofmistoverit.Iwalkdownthecorridorthatsplitsoffintothemen’sandwomen’slockerrooms.Afewvoicesechofromfartherdownthehall.

Asecondlater,IseeAndenemergefromthelockerroomwithtwoguardswalkingalongsidehim.Iblushinembarrassmentatthesight.Andenlookslikehejuststeppedoutoftheshowerafewminutesago,shirtlessandstilltowelingoffhisdamphair,hisleanmusclestenseafterhisworkout.Hehasacrispcollarshirtswungoveroneshoulder,thewhiteofthefabricastartlingcontrastagainsttheoliveofhisskin.Oneoftheguardstalkstohiminhushedtones,andwitha

sinkingfeeling,IwonderwhetherithassomethingtodowiththeColonies.Amomentlater,Andenglancesupandfinallynoticesmestaringatthem.Theconversationpauses.

“Ms.Iparis,”Andensays,apolitesmilecoveringupwhatevermighthavebeenbotheringhim.Heclearshisthroat,handshistoweltooneoftheguards,andpullsonearmthroughthesleeveofhiscollarshirt.“Iapologizeformyhalf-dressedstate.”

Ibowmyheadonce,tryinghardtolookunfazedasalloftheireyesfixateonme.“Noworries,Elector.”

Henodsathisguards.“Goahead.I’llmeetyoubothatthestairs.”Theguardsbowinunison,thenleaveusalone.Andenwaitsuntilthey’ve

disappearedaroundthecornerbeforeturningbacktome.“Ihopeyourmorningwentwellenough,”hesaysashestartsbuttoninguphisshirt.Hiseyebrowsfurrow.“Notrouble?”

“Notrouble,”Iconfirm,unwillingtodwellonmyconversationwithThomas.

“Good.”Andenrunsahandthroughhisdamphair.“Thenyou’vehadabettermorningthanI.IspentseveralhoursinaprivateconferencewiththePresidentofRossCity,Antarctica—we’veaskedthemformilitaryhelp,incaseofaninvasion.”Hesighs.“Antarcticasympathizes,buttheyaren’teasytoplease.Idon’tknowwhetherwecangetaroundusingDay’sbrother,andIdon’tknowhowtopersuadeDaytoallowit.”

“Noonewillbeabletoconvincehim,”Ireply,crossingmyarms.“Notevenme.YousaythatI’mhisweakness,buthisgreatestweaknessishisfamily.”

Andenstaysquietforamoment.Istudyhisfacecarefully,wonderingwhatthoughtsaregoingthroughhismind.Thememorycomesbacktomeofhowmercilesshecanbewhenhechooses,howhedidn’tflinchwhensentencingThomastodeath,howhe’dthrownCommanderJameson’sinsultrightbackinherface,howheneverhesitatedtoexecuteeverysinglepersonwhotriedtodestroyhim.Deepunderneaththesoftvoiceandkindheartliessomethingcold.“Don’tforcehim,”Isay.Andenlooksatmeinsurprise.“Iknowthat’swhatyou’rethinking.”

Andenfinishesbuttoninghisshirt.“IcanonlydowhatIhavetodo,June,”hesaysgently.Italmostsoundssad.

No.IwillneverletyouhurtDaylikethat.NotthewayI’vealreadyhurthim.“You’retheElector.Youdon’thavetodoanything.AndifyoucareabouttheRepublic,youwon’triskangeringtheonepersonwhothepublicbelievesin.”

Toolate,Ibitemytongue.ThepeoplebelieveinDay,buttheydon’tbelieveinyou.Andenwincesvisibly,andeventhoughhedoesn’tcommentonit,Isilentlycursemyselfformynotoriousturnsofphrase.“I’msorry,”Imurmur.“Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.”

AlongpausedragsonbeforeAndenspeaksagain.“It’snotaseasyasitseems.”Heshakeshishead.Atinybeadofwaterdropsfromhishairontohiscollar.“Youwoulddodifferently?Riskanentirenationinsteadofoneperson?Ican’tjustifyit.TheColonieswillstrikeifwedon’tgivethemanantidote,andthiswholemessstemmedfromsomethingthatI’mresponsiblefor.”

“No,yourfatherwasresponsible.Thatdoesn’tmeanyouare.”“Well,I’mmyfather’sson,”Andenreplies,hisvoicesuddenlystern.“What

differencedoesitmake?”Thewordssurprisebothofus.Itightenmylipsanddecidenottocomment

onit,butmythoughtschurnfrantically.Itdoesmakeadifference.ButthenIthinkbackonwhatAndenhadoncetoldmeabouttheRepublic’sfounding,howhisfatherandtheElectorsbeforehimhadbeenforcedtoactinthosedark,earlyyears.Betterbecareful,Iparis.Youmightturnoutjustlikeme.

PerhapsI’mnottheonlyonewhoneedstobecareful.Somethingshowingonthescreenattheendofthehalldistractsme.Ilook

towardit.There’ssomenewsaboutDay;thefootageshowssomeoldvideoclose-upofhimandthenabriefshotoftheDenverhospital,buteventhoughmostofthevideo’scutoff,Icancatchglimpsesofcrowdsgatheredinfrontofthebuilding.Andenturnstolookatthescreentoo.Aretheyprotesting?Whatcouldtheybeprotesting?

DanielAltanWingadmittedtohospitalforstandardmedicalexam,tobereleasedtomorrowAndenpressesahandtohisear.Anincomingcall.Heglancesbrieflyatme,

thenclicksonhismikeandsays,“Yes?”Silence.Asthescreen’sbroadcastcontinues,Anden’sfaceturnspale.It

remindsmeforaninstantofhowpaleDayhadlookedwhileatthebanquet,andthetwothoughtsconvergeintoasingle,frighteningthought.Isuddenlyknow,beyondtheshadowofadoubt,thatthisisthesecretDay’sbeenkeepingfromme.Ahorriblefeelingbuildsinmychest.

“Whoapprovedthisfootage’srelease?”Andensaysafteramoment,hisvoicenowawhisper.Ihearangerinit.“Therewon’tbeanexttime.Informme

first.Isthatunderstood?”Alumprisesinmythroat.Whenhiscallfinallyends,hedropshishandand

givesmealong,gravelook.“It’sDay,”hesays.“He’satthehospital.”“Why?”Idemand.“I’msosorry.”Hebowshisheadinatragicgesture,thenleansforwardto

whisperinmyear.Hetellsme.AndsuddenlyIfeellight-headed,liketheentireworldhasfunneledintoablurofmotion,likenoneofthisisreal,likeI’mstandingrightbackattheLosAngelesCentralHospitalonthenightIkneltbeforeMetias’scold,lifelessbody,staringintoafacethatInolongerrecognized.Myheartbeatslowstoastop.Everythingstops.Thiscan’tbereal.

Howcantheboywhostirredanentirenationbedying?

THEYKEEPMEATTHEHOSPITALOVERNIGHTBEFORETHEYreleasemetomyapartment.Bynow,thenewsisout—bystandershadseenmewheeledout,hadspreadthewordtootherfolks,andsoonthewildfirewasunstoppable,andtherumor’sbeenutteredineverycornerofthecity.I’veseenthenewscyclestrytohideittwicealready.Iwasinthehospitalforastandardcheckup;Iwasinthehospitaltovisitmybrother.Allsortsofgoddystories.Butnoone’sbuyingit.

Ispendalldayenjoyingtheluxuryofanon-hospitalbed,watchinglight,slushysnowfallingoutsideourwindow,whileEdencampsoutonthebedbymyfeetandplayswitharoboticskitwe’dgottenfromtheRepublicasagift.He’spiecingtogethersomesortofrobotnow;hematchesupamagneticLightcube—apalm-sizeboxwithminiscreensonitssides—withseveralArm,Leg,andWingcubestocreatewhat’sessentiallyalittleflyingJumboTronMan.Hesmilesindelightatit,thenbreaksthecubesapartandrearrangesthemintoapairofwalkingLegsthatdisplayJumboTronvideofeedswhenevertheystepdown.Ismiletoo,momentarilycontentthathe’scontent.Ifthere’sonegoodthingabouttheRepublic,it’sthattheyindulgeEden’sloveforbuildingstuff.EveryotherweekweseemtogetsomenewcontraptionthatI’veonlyeverseenupper-classkidsown.IwonderifJune’stheonewhoputinthisspecialrequestforEden,knowingwhatshedoes.OrmaybeAndenjustfeelsguiltyforallthestuffhisfatherputusthrough.

Iwonderifshe’sheardthenewsyet.Shemusthave.“Careful,”IsayasEdenclimbsupontomybedandleansovertostand

hisnewcreationupattheedgeofthewindow.Hishandsfumblearound,feelingforthewindowsillandtheglasspane.“Ifyoufallandbreaksomething,we’llhavetoheadbacktothehospital,andIamnotgoingtobehappyaboutthat.”

“You’rethinkingaboutheragain,aren’tyou?”Edenfiressmoothlyback.Hisblindeyesstaysquintedattheblocksstandingbarelyaninch

fromhisface.“Youalwayschangeyourvoice.”Iblinkathiminsurprise.“What?”Helooksinmydirectionandraisesaneyebrowatme,andthe

expressionlookscomicalonhischildlikeface.“Oh,comeon.It’ssoobvious.What’sthisJunegirltoyou,anyway?Thewholecountrygossipsaboutyoutwo,andwhensheaskedyoutocometoDenver,youcouldn’tpackusupfastenough.YoutoldmetocallherincasetheRepublicevercomestotakemeaway.You’regonnahavetospillsoonerorlater,yeah?You’realwaystalkingabouther.”

“Idon’ttalkaboutherallthetime.”“Uh-huh,right.”I’mgladEdencan’tseemyexpression.I’veyettotalkwithhimabout

Juneandherconnectiontotherestofourfamily—anothergoodreasontostayawayfromher.“She’safriend,”Ifinallyreply.

“Doyoulikeher?”Myeyesgobacktostudyingtherainysceneoutsideourwindow.

“Yeah.”Edenwaitsformetosaymore,butwhenIremainsilent,heshrugsand

goesbacktohisrobot.“Fine,”hemutters.“Tellmewhenever.”Asifoncue,myearpieceblaresoutasecondofsoftstatic,warningme

ofanincomingcall.Iacceptit.Amomentlater,June’swhisperedvoiceechoesinmyear.Shedoesn’tsayanythingaboutmyillness—shejustsuggests,“Canwetalk?”

Iknewit’donlybeamatteroftimebeforeIheardfromher.IwatchEdenplayingforasecondlonger.“Wegottadoitsomewhereelse,”Iwhisperback.Mybrotherglancesatme,momentarilycuriousatmywords.Idon’twanttoruinmyfirstdayoutofthehospitalbybreakingmydepressingprognosistoaneleven-year-old.

“Howaboutawalk,then?”Iglanceoutthewindow.It’sdinnertime,andthecafésdownonthe

street’sgroundlevelarecrowdedwithpatrons,almostallofthemhuddledunderhats,caps,umbrellas,andhoods,keepingtothemselvesinthistwilightslush.Mightbeagoodtimetowalkaroundwithoutattractingtoomuchattention.“Howaboutthis.Comeonover,andwe’llheadoutfromhere.”

“Great,”Junereplies.Shehangsup.Tenminuteslater,mydoorbellringsandstartlesEdentohisfeet—the

newcuberobothebuiltfallsfrommybed,threeofitslimbssnappingoff.Edenturnshiseyesinmydirection.“Who’sthere?”heasks.

“Don’tworry,kid,”Ireply,walkingovertothedoor.“It’sJune.”Eden’sshouldersrelaxatmywords;abrightgrinlightsuphisface,and

hehopsofftheedgeofthebed,leavinghisblockrobotbythewindow.Hefeelshiswaytowardtheotherendofthebed.“Well?”hedemands.“Aren’tyougonnaletherin?”

ItseemslikeduringthetimeI’dspentlivingonthestreets,I’dbeenmissingoutonseeingEdenblossom.Quietkidturnedstubbornandheadstrong.Can’timaginehowheinheritedthat.Isigh—Ihatekeepingthingsfromhim,buthowdoIexplainthisone?I’dtoldhimoverthepastyearwhoJuneis:aRepublicgirlwhodecidedtohelpusout,agirlwho’snowtrainingtobethecountry’sfuturePrinceps.Ihaven’tfiguredoutyethowtotellhimtherest—soIjustdon’tsayanythingaboutitatall.

Junedoesn’tsmilewhenIopenthedoor.SheglancesatEden,thenbacktome.“Isthatyourbrother?”shesaysquietly.

Inod.“Youhaven’tmethimyet,haveyou?”Iturnaroundandcallouttohim.“Eden.Manners.”

Edenwavesfromthebed.“Hi,”hecallsout.IstepasidesothatJunecancomein.Shemakesherwayovertowhere

Edenis,sitsdownnexttohimwithasmile,andtakeshissmallhandinhers.Sheshakesittwice.“Pleasedtomeetyou,Eden,”shesays,hervoicegentle.Ileanagainstthedoortowatchtheexchange.“Howareyoudoing?”

Edenshrugs.“Prettygood,Iguess,”hereplies.“Doctorssaymyeyeshavestabilized.I’mtakingtendifferentpillseveryday.”Hetiltshishead.“ButIthinkI’vebeengettingstronger.”Hepuffsouthischestalittle,thenstrikesamockposebyflexinghisarms.HiseyesareunfocusedandpointingslightlytotheleftofJune’sface.“HowdoIlook?”

Junelaughs.“Ihavetosay,youlookbetterthanmostpeopleIsee.I’veheardalotaboutyou.”

“Ihearaboutyoualottoo,”Edenrepliesinarush,“mostlyfromDaniel.Hethinksyou’rereallyhot.”

“Okay,that’senough.”Iclearmythroatloudenoughforhimtohear,thenshoothimacrankylookeventhoughhe’sblindasarock.“Let’sheadout.”

“Haveyoueatenyet?”sheasksasweheadtowardthedoor.“IwassupposedtobeshadowingAndenwiththeotherPrinceps-Elects,buthe’s

beencalledtotheArmorbarracksforaquickbriefing—somethingaboutfoodpoisoningamongthesoldiers.SoIhadacoupleoffreehours.”Afaintblushtoucheshercheeksasshesaysthis.“Ithoughtmaybewecouldgrababite.”

Iraiseaneyebrow.ThenIleanintowardhersothatmycheekbrushesagainsthers—tomyexcitement,Ifeelhershiveratmytouch.“Why,June,”Iteaseinalow,softvoice,smilingagainstherear.“Areyouaskingmeoutonadate?”

June’sblushdeepens,butitswarmthdoesn’ttouchhereyes.Mymomentofmischiefends.Iclearmythroat,thenlookovermy

shoulderatEden.“I’llbringsomefoodbackforyou.Don’tgooutonyourown.DowhatLucytellsyoutodo.”

Edennods,alreadyengrossedwiththeblockrobotagain.Minuteslater,weheadoutoftheapartmentcomplexandintothe

thickeningdrizzle.Ikeepmyheaddownandmyfacehiddenundertheshadowofasoldiercap;myneck’sprotectedbeneathmythickredscarf,andmyhandsareshoveddeepintothepocketsofmymilitarycoat.It’sstrangehowmuchI’vegottenusedtoRepublicclothing.Junepullshercoatcollarhigh,andherbreathbillowsoutaroundherincloudsofsteam.Theslushhaspickedupsome,sendingfreshiceandwaterintomyfaceandticklingmyeyelashes.Boldredbannersstillhangfromthewindowsofmosthigh-rises,andtheJumboTronshaveared-and-blacksymbolinthecornersoftheirbroadcastsinhonorofAnden’sbirthday.Othersalongthestreetrushpastinablurofmotion.Wewalkincomfortablesilence,savoringthesimplenearnessofeachother.

It’skindofweird,actually.Today’soneofmybetterdays,andIdon’thavealotoftroublekeepingupwithJune—today,itdoesn’tfeellikeIonlyhaveacoupleofmonthstolive.Maybethenewmedicinestheygavemearegoingtoworkthistime.

Wedon’tsayaworduntilJunefinallystopsusatasmall,steamingcaféseveralblocksfrommyapartment.RightawayIcanseewhyshechoseit—it’smostlyempty,atinylittlespotonthefirstfloorofatoweringhigh-risewashedwetwithslush,andnotverywelllit.Eventhoughit’sopentotheair,likemanyothercafésinthearea,ithasafewdarknooksthatareniceforustositat,anditsonlylightscomefromglowing,cube-shapedlanternsoneachofitstables.Ahostessushersusinside,seatingusatJune’srequestinoneoftheshadowycorners.Flatplatesofscentedwatersitscattered

throughoutthecafé.Ishiver,eventhoughourspotisprettywarmfromourheatlantern.

Whatarewedoinghereagain?Astrangefogwashesoverme,thenclears.We’reherefordinner,that’swhatwe’redoing.Ishakemyhead.IrecallthebriefstruggleI’dhadafewdaysago,whenIcouldn’trememberLucy’sname.Afrighteningthoughtemerges.

Maybethisisanewsymptom.OrmaybeI’mjustbeingparanoid.Afterweplaceourorders,Junespeaksup.Thegoldflecksinhereyes

shineinthelantern’sorangeglow.“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”shewhispers.Iholdmyhandsagainstthelantern,savoringtheheat.“Whatgood

wouldithavedone?”Junefurrowshereyebrows,andonlythendoInoticethathereyeslook

kindofswollen,likeshe’sbeencrying.Sheshakesherheadatme.“Therumorsareallovertheplace,”shecontinuesinavoiceIcanbarelyhear.“Witnessessaytheysawyoubeingcarriedoutofyourapartmentonastretcherthirty-fourhoursago—oneofthemapparentlyoverheardamedicdiscussingyourcondition.”

Isighandputmyhandsupindefeat.“Youknowwhat,ifthisisallsomehowcausingriotsinthestreetandmoretroubleforAnden,thenI’msorry.Iwastoldtokeepitasecret—andIdid,aswellasIcould.I’msureourgloriousElectorwillfigureoutawaytocalmfolksdown.”

Junebitesherliponce.“Theremustbesomesolution,Day.Haveyourdoctors—”

“They’realreadytryingeverything.”Iwinceasapainfulspasmrunsthroughthebackofmyhead,asifoncue.“I’vebeenthroughthreeroundsofexperiments.Slowandpainfulprogresssofar.”IexplaintoJunewhatthedoctorshadtoldme,theunusualinfectioninmyhippocampus,themedicationthat’sbeenweakeningme,suckingthestrengthoutofmybody.“Believeme,they’rerunningthroughsolutions.”

“Howlongdoyouhave?”shewhispers.Istaysilent,pretendingtobefascinatedwiththelantern.Idon’tknowif

Ihavethehearttosayit.Juneleanscloser,untilhershoulderbumpssoftlyagainstmine.“How

longdoyouhave?”sherepeats.“Please.Ihopeyoustillcareaboutmeenoughtotellme.”

Igazebackather,slowlyfalling—asIalwaysseemtodo—backunderherpull.Don’tmakemedothis,please.Idon’twanttosayitoutloudtoher;

itmightmeanthatit’sactuallytrue.ButshelookssosadandfearfulthatIcan’tkeepitin.Iletoutmybreath,thenrunahandthroughmyhairandlowermyhead.“Theysaidamonth,”Iwhisper.“Maybetwo.TheysaidIshouldgetmyprioritiesinorder.”

Junecloseshereyes—IthinkIseeherswayslightlyinherseat.“Twomonths,”shemurmursvacantly.TheagonyonherfaceremindsmeexactlywhyIdidn’twanttoletherknow.

Afteranotherlongsilencebetweenus,Junesnapsoutofherdazeandreachestopullsomethingoutofherpocket.Shecomesbackupwithsomethingsmallandmetallicinherpalm.“I’vebeenmeaningtogivethistoyou,”shesays.

Istareblanklyatit.It’sapaperclipring,thinlinesofwirepulledintoanelegantseriesofswirlsandclosedintoacircle,justliketheoneI’doncemadeforher.Myeyeswidenanddartuptohers.Shedoesn’tsayanything;instead,shelooksdownandhelpsmepushitontomyrighthand’sringfinger.“Ihadalittletime,”shefinallymutters.

Irunahandacrosstheringinwonder,myheartstringspulledtaut.Adozenemotionsrushthroughme.“I’msorry,”Istammeroutafterawhile,tryingtoputamorehopefulspinoneverything.That’sallIcansay,afterthisgiftfromher?“Theythinkthere’sstillachance.They’retryingoutsomemoretreatmentssoon.”

“Youoncetoldmewhyyouchose‘Day’asyourstreetname,”shesaysfirmly.Shemovesherhandsothatit’sovermine,hidingthepaperclipringfromview.Thewarmthofherskinagainstminemakesmybreathshort.“Everymorning,everything’spossibleagain.Right?”Ariveroftinglesrunsupmyspine.Iwanttotakeherfaceinmyhandsagain,kisshercheeksandstudyherdark,sadeyes,andtellherI’llbeokay.Butthatwouldjustbeanotherlie.Halfofmyheartisbreakingatthepainonherface;theotherhalf,Irealizeguiltily,isswellingwithhappinesstoknowthatshestillcares.There’sloveinhertragicwords,inthefoldsofthatthinmetalring.Isn’tthere?

Finally,Itakeadeepbreath.“Sometimes,thesunsetsearlier.Daysdon’tlastforever,youknow.ButI’llfightashardasIcan.Icanpromiseyouthat.”

June’seyessoften.“Youdon’thavetodothisalone.”“Whyshouldyouhavetobearit?”Imutterback.“Ijust...thoughtit

wouldbeeasierthisway.”

“Easierforwhom?”Junesnaps.“You,me,thepublic?Youwouldratherjustpassawaysilentlyoneday,withouteverbreathinganotherwordtome?”

“Yes,Iwould,”Ifindmyselfsnappingback.“IfI’dtoldyouthatnight,wouldyouhaveagreedtobecomeaPrinceps-Elect?”

WhateverwordssatonthetipofJune’stonguegounspoken.Shepausesatthat,thenswallows.“No,”sheadmits.“Iwouldn’thavehadthehearttodoit.Iwould’vewaited.”

“Exactly.”Itakeadeepbreath.“YouthinkIwantedtowhinetoyouaboutmyhealthinthatmoment?Tostandinthewayofyouandthepositionofalifetime?”

“Thatwasmychoicetomake,”Junesaysthroughclenchedteeth.“AndIwantedyoutomakeitwithoutmeintheway.”Juneshakesherhead,andhershouldersslightlydroop.“Youreally

thinkIcaresolittleaboutyou?”Ourfoodarrivesthen—steamingbowlsofsoup,platesofdinnerrolls,

andaneatlywrappedpackageoffoodforEden—andIlapsegratefullyintosilence.Itwould’vebeeneasierforme,Iaddtomyself.I’dratherstepawaythanberemindedeverydaythatIonlyhaveafewmonthslefttobewithyou.I’mashamedtosaythisoutloud,though.WhenJunelooksexpectantlyatmeforananswer,Ijustshakemyheadandshrug.

Andthat’swhenwehearit.Analarmwailsoutacrossthecity.It’sdeafening.Webothfreeze,thenlookupatthespeakersliningallthe

street’sbuildings.I’veneverheardasirenlikethisinmyentirelife—anendlessandearsplittingscreamthatdrenchestheair,drowningoutanythinginitspath.TheJumboTronshavegonedark.IshootJuneabewilderedlook.Whatthehellisthat?

ButJune’snolongerlookingatme.Hereyesarefixedonthespeakersblaringoutthealarmacrosstheentirestreet,andherexpressionisstrickenwithhorror.Together,wewatchastheJumboTronsflarebacktolife—thistimeeachscreenisbloodred,andeachhastwogoldwordsetchedinboldacrossitsdisplay:

SEEKCOVER“Whatdoesitmean?”Ishout.Junegrabsmyhandandstartstorun.“Itmeansthatanairstrike’s

coming.TheArmorisunderattack.”

“EDEN.”It’sthefirstwordoutofDay’smouth.TheJumboTronscontinue

broadcastingtheirominousscarletnoticeasthealarmechoesacrossthecity,deafeningmewithitsrhythmicroarandblottingoutallothersoundsinthecity.Alongthestreet,othersarepeekingoutofwindowsandpouringoutfrombuildingentrances,asbewilderedasweareovertheunusualalarm.Soldiersarefloodingintoformationonthestreet,shoutingintotheirearpiecesastheyseetheapproachingenemy.Irunrightbesidehim,thoughtsandnumbersracingthroughmymindaswego.(Fourseconds.Twelveseconds.Fifteensecondsablock,whichmeansseventy-fivesecondsuntilwereachDay’sapartmentifwekeepupourpace.Isthereafasterroute?AndOllie.Ineedtogethimoutofmyapartmentandtomyside.)Astrangefocusgripsme,justlikeithadthemomentIfirstfreedDayfromBatallaHallallthosemonthsago,likethemomentDayclimbedtheCapitolTowertoaddressthepeopleandIledsoldiersoffhistrail.Imayturnintoasilent,uncomfortableobserverintheSenatechamber,butouthereonthestreets,inthemidstofchaos,Icanthink.Icanact.

Irememberreadingaboutandrehearsingforthisparticularalarmbackinhighschool,althoughLosAngelesissofarawayfromtheColoniesthateventhosepracticedrillswererare.Thealarmwastobeusedonlyifenemyforcesattackedourcity,iftheywererightatthecity’sbordersandbargingtheirwayin.Idon’tknowwhattheprocessislikeinDenver,butIimagineitcan’tbethatdifferent—wearetoevacuateimmediately,thenseekouttheclosestassignedundergroundbunkerandboardsubwaysthatwillshuttleustoasafercity.AfterIenteredcollegeandofficiallybecameasoldier,thedrillchangedforme:Soldiersaretoreportimmediatelytoalocationtheircommandingofficersgivethemovertheirearpieces.Wemustbereadyforwaratamoment’snotice.

ButI’veneverheardthealarmusedforarealattackonaRepubliccity,becausetherehasn’tbeenoneyet.Mostattackswerethwartedbeforetheycould

reachus.Untilnow.AndasIrunalongsideDay,Iknowexactlywhatmustbegoingthroughhismind.Ittriggersafamiliarguiltinmystomach.

Dayhasneverheardthealarmbefore,norhasheevergonethroughadrillforit.Thisisbecausehe’sfromapoorsector.Iwasneversurebefore,andIadmitthatIneverthoughtmuchaboutit,butseeingDay’sconfusedexpressionmakesitallveryclear.Theundergroundbunkersareonlyfortheupperclass,thegemsectors.Thepoorarelefttofendforthemselves.

Overhead,anenginescreamsby.ARepublicjet.Thenseveralmore.Shoutsriseupandmixwiththealarm—IbracemyselfforacallfromAndenatanymoment.Then,faroffalongthehorizon,IseethefirstorangeglowslightupalongtheArmor.TheRepublicislaunchingacounterattackfromthewalls.Thisisreallyhappening.Butitshouldn’tbe.TheColonieshadgivenustime,howeverlittle,tohandoveranantidotetothem—andsincethatultimatum,onlyfourdayshavepassed.Myangerflares.Didtheywanttocatchusoffguardinsuchanextremeway?

IgrabDay’shandandpickupmypace.“CanyoucallEden?”Ishout.“Yeah,”Daygaspsout.ImmediatelyIcantellthathedoesn’thavethe

staminaheusedtohave—hisbreathingisslightlylabored,hisstepsslightlyslower.Alumplodgesinmythroat.Somehow,thisisthefirstevidenceofhisfadinghealththathitshome,andmyheartclenches.Behindus,anotherexplosionreverberatesacrossthenightair.Itightenmyholdonhishand.

“TellEdentobereadyatyourcomplex’sentrance,”Ishout.“Iknowwherewecango.”

Anurgentvoicecomesovermyearpiece.It’sAnden.“Whereareyou?”hesays.IshiverasIdetectafainthintoffearinhiswords—anotherthingIrarelyhear.“I’mattheCapitolTower.I’llsendajeeptopickyouup.”

“SendajeeptoDay’sapartment.I’llbethereinaminute.AndOllie—mydog—”

“I’llhavehimsenttothebunkersimmediately,”Andensays.“Becareful.”Thenaclicksoundsout,andIhearstaticforasecondbeforemyearpiecegoesdark.Besideme,DayrepeatsmyinstructionsforEdenoverhisownmike.

Bythetimewereachtheapartmentcomplex,Republicjetsarescreamingbyeveryothersecond,paintingdozensoftrailsintotheeveningsky.Crowdsofpeoplehavealreadystartedgatheringoutsidethecomplexandarebeingguidedinvariousdirectionsbycitypatrols.AjoltoffearseizesmewhenIrealizethatsomeofthejetsonthehorizonarenotRepublicjetsatall—butunfamiliarenemyones.Ifthey’rethisclose,thentheymust’vegottenpastourlongerrange

missiles.Twolargerblackdotshoverattheendofthesky.Coloniesairships.DayseesEdenbeforeIdo.He’sasmall,golden-hairedfigureclutchingthe

railingsbytheapartmentcomplex’sentrancedoor,squintinginvainattheseaofpeoplearoundhim.Theircaretakerstandsbehindhimwithbothofherhandsfirmlyonhisshoulders.“Eden!”Daycallsout.Theboyjerkshisheadinourdirection.Dayhopsupthestepsandscoopshimintohisarms,thenturnsbacktome.“Wheredowego?”heshouts.

“TheElector’ssendingajeepforus,”Ireplyinhisear,sothattheothersdon’thear.Alreadyafewpeoplearecastingusglancesofrecognitionevenastheystreampastusinahazeofpanic.Ipullmycoatcollarsashighupastheycango,thenbowmyhead.Comeon,Imuttertomyself.

“June,”Daysays.Imeethiseyes.“What’sgonnahappentotheothersectors?”

There’sthequestionI’vebeendreading.Whatwillhappentothepoorsectors?Ihesitate,andinthatbriefmomentofsilence,Dayrealizestheanswer.Hislipstightenintoathinline.Adeepragerisesinhiseyes.

Thejeep’sarrivalsavesmefromansweringrightaway.Itscreechestoastopseveralfeetfromwheretheothershavecrowdedaround,andinsideIseeAndenwaveonceatmefromthepassenger’sside.“Let’sgo,”IurgeDay.Wemakeourwaydownthestepsasasoldieropensthedoorforus.DayhelpsEdenandtheircaretakerinsidefirst,andwhenthey’rebothbuckledup,weclimbin.ThejeeptakesoffatbreakneckpaceasmoreRepublicjetsflybyoverhead.Offinthedistance,anotherbrightorangecloudmushroomsupfromtheArmor.Isitme,ordidthatseemlikeacloserhitthanbefore?(Perhapscloserbyagoodhundredfeet,giventhesizeoftheexplosion.)

“Gladtoseeyouallsafe,”Andensayswithoutturningaround.Heuttersaquickgreetingateachofus,thenmumblesacommandtothedriver,whomakesasharpturnaroundthenextblock.Edenletsoutastartledyelp.Thecaretakersqueezeshisshouldersandtriestosoothehim.

“Whytaketheslowerroute?”Andensaysasweveerdownanarrowstreet.Thegroundshakesfromanotherfar-offimpact.

“Apologies,Elector,”thedrivercallsback.“Word’sthatseveralexplosionshavegoneoffinsidetheArmor—ourfastestroute’snotsafe.TheybombedafewjeepsontheothersideofDenver.”

“Anyinjuries?”“Nottoomany,luckily.Couplejeepsoverturned—severalprisonersescaped,

andonesoldier’sdead.”

“Whichprisoners?”“We’restillconfirming.”Anastypremonitionhitsme.WhenI’dgonetoseeThomas,therehadbeena

rotationofguardsstandinginfrontofCommanderJameson’scell.WhenIleft,theguardsweredifferent.

Andenmakesafrustratedsound,thenturnstoglancebackatus.“We’reheadedtoanundergroundholdcalledSubterrainOne.Shouldyouneedtoenterorleavethehold,myguardswillscanyourthumbsatitsgateway.Youheardourdriver—it’snotsafetoheadoutonyourown.Understand?”

Thedriverpressesahandtohisear,blanches,andlooksatAnden.“Sir,wehaveconfirmationontheescapedprisoners.Therewerethree.”Hehesitates,thenswallows.“CaptainThomasBryant.LieutenantPatrickMurrey.CommanderNatashaJameson.”

Myworldlurches.Iknewit.Iknewit.JustyesterdayI’dseenCommanderJamesonsecurelybehindbars,andtalkedtoThomaswhilehewaswitheringawayinprison.Theycouldn’thavegonefar,Itellmyself.“Anden,”Iwhisper,forcingmysensesstraight.“Yesterday,whenIwenttoseeThomas,therehadbeenadifferentrotationofguards.Werethosesoldierssupposedtobethere?”DayandIexchangeaquicklook,andforaninstantIfeelasiftheentireworldisplayingusforfools,weavingourlivesintoonecrueljoke.

“Findtheprisoners,”Andensnapsintohismike.Hisownfacehasturnedwhite.“Shootthemonsight.”Heglancesbackatmewhilehecontinuestalking.“Andgetmetheguardsthatwereonduty.Now.”

Icringeasyetanotherexplosionmakesthegroundtremble.Theycouldn’thavegonefar.They’llbecapturedandshotbytheendoftheday.Irepeatthesewordstomyselfoverandover.No,somethingelseisatworkhere.Mymindflitsthroughthepossibilities:

It’snocoincidencethatCommanderJamesonmanagedtoescape,thattheColonies’attackhappenedonthesamedayshewasbeingtransferred.TheremustbeothertraitorsintheRepublic’sranks,soldiersthatAndenhasn’trootedoutyet.CommanderJamesonmayhavebeenpassinginformationtotheColoniesthroughthem.Afterall,theColoniessomehowknewwhenourArmorsoldierswouldrotateshifts,andparticularlythattodaywehadfewerArmorsoldiersstationedthanusualduetothefoodpoisoning.Theyknewtostrikeatourweakestmoment.

Ifthat’sthecase,thentheColoniesmayhavebeenplanninganattackformonths.Perhapsevenbeforetheplagueoutbreak.

AndThomas.Washeinonthewholething?Unlesshewastryingtowarnme.That’swhyheaskedformeyesterday.Forhisfinalrequest,butalsoinhopesthatIwouldnoticesomethingoffabouttheguards.Myheartbeatquickens.Butwhywouldn’thejustshoutawarning?

“Whathappensnext?”Iasknumbly.Andenleanshisheadagainsttheseat.He’sprobablythinkingthrougha

similarlistofpossibilitiesabouttheescapedprisoners,buthedoesn’tsayitaloud.“OurjetsareallengagedrightoutsideDenver.TheArmorshouldholdforagoodwhile,butthere’sastrongchancemoreColoniesforcesareontheirway.We’regoingtoneedhelp.Othernearbycitieshavebeenalertedandaresendingtheirtroopsforreinforcement,but”—Andenpausestolookoverhisshoulderatme—“itmightnotbeenough.Whilewekeepfunnelingciviliansunderground,June,youandIneedtohaveaprivatetalkrightaway.”

“Whereareyouevacuatingthepoorto,Elector?”Daypipesupquietly.Andenturnsinhisseatagain.HemeetsDay’shostileblueeyeswithaslevel

alookashecanmanage.InoticethatheavoidslookingatEden.“Ihavetroopsontheirwaytotheoutersectors,”hesays.“They’llfindshelterfortheciviliansanddefendthemuntilIgiveacommandotherwise.”

“Noundergroundbunkersforthem,Iguess,”Dayrepliescoldly.“I’msorry.”Andenletsoutalongbreath.“Thebunkerswerebuiltalong

timeago,beforemyfatherevenbecametheElector.We’reworkingonaddingmore.”

Dayleansforwardandnarrowshiseyes.HisrighthandgripsEden’stightly.“Thensplitthebunkersupbetweenthesectors.Halfpoor,halfrich.Theupperclassshouldrisktheirnecksoutintheopenasmuchasthelowerclass.”

“No,”Andensaysfirmly,eventhoughIhearregretinhiswords.HemakesthemistakeofarguingthispointwithDay,andIcan’tstophim.“Ifweweretodothat,thelogisticswouldbeanightmare.Theoutersectorsdon’thavethesameevacuationroutes—ifexplosionshitthecity,hundredsofthousandsmorepeoplewouldbevulnerableintheopenbecausewewouldn’tbeabletoorganizeeveryoneintime.Weevacuatethegemsectorsfirst.Thenwecan—”

“Doit!”Dayshouts.“Idon’tcareaboutyourdamnlogistics!”Anden’sfacehardens.“Youwillnottalkbacktomelikethat,”hesnaps.

There’ssteelinhisvoicethatIrecognizefromCommanderJameson’strial.“IamyourElector.”

“AndIputyouthere,”Daysnapsback.“Fine,youwannatalklogically?I’mgame.Ifyoudon’tmakeabiggerefforttoprotectthepoorrightnow,Ican

practicallyguaranteethatyou’llhaveafull-onriotonyourhands.DoyoureallywantthatwhiletheColoniesareattacking?Likeyousaid,you’retheElector.Butyouwon’tbeiftherestofthecountry’spoorhearsabouthowyou’rehandlingthis,andevenImightnotbeabletostopthemfromstartingarevolution.TheyalreadythinktheRepublic’stryingtokillmeoff.HowlongdoyouthinktheRepubliccanholdupagainstawarfromboththeoutsideandtheinside?”

Anden’sfacingforwardagain.“Thisconversation’sover.”Asalways,hisvoiceisdangerouslyquiet,butwecanheareverysingleword.

Dayletsoutacurseandslumpsbackinhisseat.Iexchangeaglancewithhim,thenshakemyhead.Dayhasapoint,ofcourse,andsodoesAnden.Theproblemisthatwedon’thavetimeforallthisnonsense.Afteramomentofsilence,Ileanforwardinmyseat,clearmythroat,andtryanalternative.

“Weshouldevacuatethepoorintothewealthysectors,”Isay.“They’llstillbeaboveground,butthewealthysectorssitintheheartofDenver,notalongtheArmorwherethefightingishappening.It’saflawedplan,butthepoorwillalsoseethatwe’remakingaconcertedefforttoprotectthem.Then,asthepeopleinthebunkersaregraduallyevacuatedtoLAviaundergroundsubways,we’llhavethetimeandspacetostartfilteringeveryoneelseundergroundaswell.”

Daymutterssomethingunderhisbreath,butatthesametimehegruntsinreluctantapproval.Heshootsmeagratefullook.“Soundslikeabetterplantome.Atleastthepeople’llhavesomething.”Asecondlater,Ifigureoutwhatitwasthathe’dmuttered.You’dmakeabetterElectorthanthisfool.

Anden’squietforamomentasheconsidersmywords.Thenhenodsinagreementandpressesahandagainsthisear.“CommanderGreene,”hesays,thenlaunchesintoaseriesoforders.

ImeetDay’seyes.Hestilllooksupset,butatleasthiseyesaren’tburninginangerliketheywereasecondago.HeturnshisattentionbackonLucy,whohasanarmwrappedprotectivelyaroundEden.He’scurledupinthecornerofthejeep’sseatwithhislegstuckedupandhisarmswrappedaroundthem.Hesquintsatthesceneblurringby,butI’mnotsurehowmuchofithecanactuallymakeout.IreachacrossDayandtouchEden’sshoulder.Hetensesupimmediately.“It’sokay,it’sJune,”Isay.“Anddon’tworry.We’regoingtobefine,doyouhear?”

“WhydidtheColoniesbreakthrough?”Edenasks,turninghiswide,purple-tonedeyesonmeandDay.

Iswallowhard.Neitherofusanswershim.Finally,afterherepeatshis

question,Dayhugshimcloserandwhisperssomethinginhisear.Edensettlesdownagainsthisbrother’sshoulder.Hestilllooksunhappyandscared,buttheterrorisatleasttempered,andwemanagetofinishtherestoftheridewithoutsayinganotherword.

Itfeelslikeaneternity(inactualitythetriptakesameretwominutesandtwelveseconds),butwefinallyarriveatanondescriptbuildingneartheheartofdowntownDenver,athirty-storyhigh-risecoveredwithcrisscrossingsupportbeamsonallfourofitssides.Dozensofcitypatrolsaremixedinwithcrowdsofcivilians,organizingthemintogroupsattheentrance.Ourdriverpullsthejeepuptothesideofthebuilding,wherepatrolsletusthroughthedoorofamakeshiftfence.Throughthewindow,Iseesoldiersclicktheirheelstogetherinsharpsalutesaswepassby.OneofthemisholdingOllieonaleash.Islumpinreliefatthesightofhim.Whenthejeephalts,twoofthempromptlyopenthedoorsforus.Andenstepsout—immediatelyhe’ssurroundedbyfourpatrolcaptains,allfeverishlyupdatinghimonhowtheevacuationisgoing.Mydogpullshissoldierfranticallytomyside.Ithankthesoldier,takeovertheleash,andrubOllie’shead.He’spantingindistress.

“Thisway,Ms.Iparis,”thesoldierwhoopensmydoorsays.Dayfollowsbehindmeinatensesilence,hishandstillclutchedtightlyaroundEden’s.Lucycomesoutlast.IlookovermyshouldertowhereAnden’snowdeepinconversationwithhiscaptains—hepausestoexchangeaquicklookwithme.HiseyesdarttoEden.IknowthatthethoughthehasmustbethesamethoughtrunningthroughDay’smind:KeepEdensafe.Inod,signalingtohimthatIunderstand,andthenwemovepastacrowdofwaitingevacueesandIlosesightofhim.

Insteadofdealingwiththelineupofciviliansattheentrance,soldiersescortusthroughaseparateentranceanddownawindingsetofstairs,untilwereachadimlylithallwaythatendsinasetofwide,steeldoubledoors.Theguardsstandingattheentranceshifttheirstancewhentheyrecognizeme.

“Thisway,Ms.Iparis,”theysay.OneofthemstiffensatthesightofDay,butlooksquicklyawaywhenDaymeetshisstare.Thedoorsswingopenforus.

We’regreetedbyablastofwarm,humidairandasceneoforderlychaos.Theroomwe’vesteppedintoseemslikeanenormouswarehouse(halfthesizeofaTrialstadium,threedozenfluorescents,andsixrowsofsteelbeamsliningtheceiling),withaloneJumboTronontheleftwallblastinginstructionstotheupper-classevacueeswhomillallaroundus.Amongstthemareahandfulofpoor-sectorpeople(fourteenofthem,tobeexact),thosewhomusthavebeenthe

housekeepersandjanitorsofsomeofthegem-sector’shomes.Tomydisappointment,Iseesoldiersseparatingthemoutintoadifferentline.Severalupper-classpeoplecastthemsympatheticlooks,whileothersglareindisdain.

Dayseesthemtoo.“Guesswe’reallcreatedequal,”hemutters.Isaynothing.

Afewsmallerroomslinetherightwall.Atthefarendoftheroom,theendofaparkedsubwaytrainrestsinsideatunnel,andcrowdsofbothsoldiersandcivilianshavegatheredalongbothofitsplatforms.Thesoldiersareattemptingtoorganizethecrowdsofbewildered,frightenedpeopleontothesubway.Whereitwilltakethem,Icanonlyguess.

Besideme,Daywatchesthescenewithsilent,simmeringeyes.HishandstaysclampedonEden’s.Iwonderwhetherhe’stakingnoteofthearistocraticclothingthatmostoftheseevacueesarewearing.

“Apologiesforthemess,”aguardsaystomeassheescortsustowardoneofthesmallerrooms.Shetapstheedgeofhercappolitely.“Weareintheearlystagesofevacuations,andasyoucansee,thefirstwaveisstillinprogress.Wecanhaveyou,aswellasDayandhisfamily,onthefirstwaveaswell,ifyoudon’tmindrestingforamomentinaprivatesuite.”

MarianaandSergemightalreadybewaitinginroomsoftheirown.“Thankyou,”Ireply.Wewalkpastseveraldoors,theirlong,rectangularwindowsrevealingempty,blankroomswithportraitsofAndenhangingontheirwalls.Acouplelookasiftheyhavebeenreservedforhigh-rankingofficials,whileothersappeartobeholdingpeoplewhomusthavecausedtrouble—detaineeswithsullenfacesflankedbypairsofsoldiers.Oneroomthatwepassbyholdsseveralpeoplesurroundedbyguards.

Itisthisroomthatmakesmepause.Irecognizeoneofthepeopleinthere.Isitreallyher?“Wait,”Icallout,steppingclosertothewindow.Nodoubtaboutit—Iseeayounggirlwithwideeyesandablunt,messybobofahaircut,sittinginachairbesideagray-eyedboyandthreeotherswholookmoreraggedthanIrecall.Iglanceatoursoldier.“Whataretheydoinginthere?”

Dayfollowsmylead.WhenheseeswhatIsee,hesucksinasharpbreath.“Getusinthere,”hewhisperstome.Hisvoicetakesonadesperateurgency.“Please.”

“Theseareprisoners,Ms.Iparis,”thesoldierreplies,puzzledbyourinterest.“Idon’trecommend—”

Itightenmylips.“Iwanttoseethem,”Iinterrupt.Thesoldierhesitates,glancesaroundtheroom,andthennodsreluctantly.

“Ofcourse,”shereplies.Shestepstowardthedoorandopensit,thenushersusin.LucystaysrightoutsidewithherhandtightlygrippingEden’s.Thedoorclosesbehindus.

IfindmyselfstaringstraightatTessandahandfulofPatriots.

WELL,DAMN.THELASTTIMEISAWTESS,SHEWASSTANDINGinthemiddleofthealleynearwhereweweresupposedtoassassinateAnden,herfistsclenchedandherfaceabrokenpicture.Shelooksdifferentnow.Calmer.Older.She’salsogottenagoodbittaller,andheronce-roundbabyfacehasleanedout.Weirdtosee.

Sheandtheothersareallshackledtochairs.Thesightdoesn’thelpmymood.Irecognizeoneofhercompanionsimmediately—Pascao,thedark-skinnedRunnerwithaheadofshortcurlsandthoseridiculouslypalegrayeyes.Hehasn’tchangedmuch,althoughnowthatI’mcloseenough,Icanseetracesofascaracrosshisnoseandanotheronenearhisrighttemple.Heflashesmeabrilliantwhitegrinthatdripssarcasm.“Thatyou,Day?”hesays,givingmeaflirtatiouswink.“Stillasgorgeousasyou’vealwaysbeen.Republicuniformssuityou.”

Hiswordssting.Iturnmyglareonthesoldiersstandingguardoverthem.“Whythehellaretheyprisoners?”

Oneofthemtiltshisnoseupatme.Basedonallthegoddydecorationsonhisuniform,hemustbethecaptainofthisgrouporsomething.“They’reformerPatriots,”hesays,emphasizinghislastwordasifhe’stryingtomakeajabatme.“WecaughtthemalongtheedgeoftheArmor,wheretheywereattemptingtodisableourmilitaryequipmentandaidtheColonies.”

Pascaoshiftsindignantlyinhischair.“Bullshit,youblinderboy,”hesnaps.“WewerecampedoutalongtheArmorbecauseweweretryingtohelpyoursorrysoldiersout.Maybeweshouldn’thavebothered.”

Tesswatchesmewithawarylookthatshe’sneverusedwithmebefore.Herarmslooksosmallandthinwiththosegiantshacklesclampedaroundherwrists.Iclenchmyteeth;mygazefallstothegunsatthesoldiers’belts.Nosuddenmoves,Iremindmyself.Notaroundthesetrigger-happytrots.Fromthecornerofmyeye,Inoticethatoneoftheothersisbleedingfrom

theshoulder.“Letthemgo,”Itellthesoldier.“They’renottheenemy.”Thesoldierglaresatmewithcoldcontempt.“Absolutelynot.Our

ordersweretodetainthemuntilsuchtime—”Besideme,Juneliftsherchin.“Ordersfromwhom?”Thesoldier’sbravadowaversalittle.“Ms.Iparis,myorderscame

directlyfromthegloriousElectorhimself.”HischeeksflushwhenheseesJunenarrowhereyes,andthenhestartsblabbingsomethingabouttheirtourofdutyaroundtheArmorandhowintensethebattle’sbeen.IstepclosertoTessandstoopdownuntilwe’reatthesameeyelevel.Theguardsshifttheirguns,butJunesnapsawarningatthemtostop.

“Youcameback,”IwhispertoTess.EventhoughTessstilllookswary,somethingsoftensinhereyes.“Yes.”“Why?”Tesshesitates.ShelooksoveratPascao,whoturnshisstartlinggrayeyes

fullyonme.“Wecameback,”hereplies,“becauseTessheardyoucallingforus.”

They’dheardme.AllthoseradiotransmissionsI’dbeensendingoutformonthsandmonthshadn’tendeduplostsomewhereinthedark—somehow,they’dheardme.Tessswallowshardbeforesheworksupenoughcouragetospeak.“Frankiefirstcaughtyouontheairwavesafewmonthsago,”shesays,noddingtowardacurly-hairedgirltiedtooneofthechairs.“Shesaidyouweretryingtocontactus.”Tesslowershereyes.“Ididn’twanttoanswer.ButthenIheardaboutyourillness...and...”

So.Thenewshasdefinitelygottenaround.“Heynow,”Pascaointerruptswhenhecatchesmyexpression.“We

didn’tcomebacktotheRepublicjustbecausewefeltsorryforyou.We’vebeenlisteningtothenewscomingfrombothyouandtheColonies.Heardaboutthethreatofwar.”

“Andyoudecidedtocometoouraid?”Junepipesup.Hereyesaresuspicious.“Whysogenerousallofasudden?”

Pascao’ssarcasticgrinfadesaway.HeregardsJunewithatiltofhishead.“You’reJuneIparis,aren’tyou?”

ThecaptainstartstotellhimtogreetJuneinamoreformalway,butJunejustnods.

“Soyou’retheonewhosabotagedourplansandsplitupourcrew.”Pascaoshrugs.“Nohardfeelings—notthat,youknow,IwasabigfanofRazororanything.”

“Whyareyoubackinthecountry?”Junerepeats.“Okay,fine.WegotkickedoutofCanada.”Pascaotakesadeepbreath.

“Wewerehidingoutthereaftereverythingfellapartduringthe”—hepausestoglanceatthesoldiersaroundthem—“the,ah,youknow.OurplaydatewithAnden.ButthentheCanadiansfiguredoutthatweweren’tsupposedtobeintheircountry,andwehadtofleebacksouth.Alotofusscatteredtothewinds.Idon’tknowwherehalfouroriginalgroupisnow—chancesarethatsomeofthemarestillinCanada.WhenthenewsaboutDaybroke,littleTesshereaskedifshecouldleaveusandheadbacktoDenveronherown.Ididn’twantherto,well,die—sowecamealong.”Pascaolooksdownforamoment.Hedoesn’tstoptalking,butIcantellthathe’sjustbabblingatthispoint,tryingtogiveusanyreasonbuttheirmainone.“WiththeColoniesinvading,Ithoughtthatifwetriedhelpingoutyourwareffort,thenmaybewecouldgetapardonandpermissiontostayinthecountry,butIknowyourElectorprobablyisn’tourbiggest—”

“Whatisallthis?”Allofusturnaroundatthevoice,rightasthesoldiersintheroomsnap

intosalutes.IgetupfrommycrouchtoseeAndenstandinginthedoorwaywithagroupofbodyguardsbehindhim,hiseyesdarkandominous,hisstarefixedfirstonJuneandmeandthenonthePatriots.Eventhoughithasn’tbeenthatlongsincewelefthimbehindtotalkwithhisgenerals,hehasafinelayerofdustontheshouldersofhisuniform,andhisfacelooksbleak.Thecaptainwho’dbeentalkingtousearliernowclearshisthroatnervously.“Myapologies,Elector,”hebegins,“butwedetainedthesecriminalsneartheArmor—”

Atthat,Junecrossesherarms.“ThenI’mguessingyouweren’ttheonewhoapprovedthis,Elector?”shesaystoAnden.There’sanedgetohervoicethattellsmesheandAndenaren’tonthebestoftermsrightnow.

Andenregardsthescene.Ourargumentfromthecarrideoverisprobablystillstewinginhismind,buthedoesn’tbotherlookinginmydirection.Well,good.MaybeI’vegivenhimsomethingtothinkabout.Finally,henodsatthecaptain.“Whoarethey?”

“FormerPatriots,sir.”“Isee.Whoorderedthis?”Thecaptainturnsbrightred.“Well,Elector,”hereplies,tryingtosound

official,“mycommandingofficer—”ButAndenhasalreadyturnedhisattentionawayfromthelyingcaptain

andstartstoleavetheroom.“Takethoseshacklesoffthem,”hesayswithoutturningbackaround.“Keeptheminherefornow,andthenevacuatethemwiththefinalgroup.Watchthemcarefully.”Hemotionsforustofollowhim.“Ms.Iparis.Mr.Wing.Ifyouplease.”

IlookbackonemoretimeatTess,who’swatchingthesoldiersuncliptheshacklesfromherwrists.ThenIheadoutwithJune.Edenrushesovertome,nearlycollidingwithmeinhishurry,andItakehishandbackinmine.

AndenstopsusbeforeagroupofRepublicsoldiers.Ifrownatthesight.Fourofthesoldiersarekneelingonthegroundwiththeirhandsontheirheads.Theireyesstaydowncast.Oneweepssilently.

Theremainingsoldiersinthegrouphavetheirgunspointedatthekneelingsoldiers.ThesoldierinchargeaddressesAnden.“ThesearetheguardswhowereinchargeofCommanderJamesonandCaptainBryant.WefoundasuspiciouscommunicationbetweenoneofthemandtheColonies.”

Nowonderhebroughtusouthere,toseethefacesofourpotentialtraitors.Ilookbackatthecapturedguards.ThecryingonelooksupatAndenwithpleadingeyes.“Please,Elector,”hebegs.“Ihadnothingtodowiththeirescape.I—Idon’tknowhowithappened.I—”Hiswordscutoffasagunbarrelcuffshiminthehead.

Anden’sface,normallythoughtfulandreserved,hasturnedice-cold.Ilookfromthekneelingsoldiersbacktohim.He’ssilentforamoment.Thenhenodsathismen.“Interrogatethem.Iftheydon’tcooperate,shootthem.Spreadthewordtotherestofthetroops.Letitbealessontoanyothertraitorswithinourranks.Letthemknowwewillrootthemout.”

Thesoldierswiththegunsclicktheirheels.“Yes,sir.”Theyhaultheaccusedtraitorstotheirfeet.Asickfeelinghitsmystomach.ButAndendoesn’ttakebackhiswords—instead,helooksonasthesoldiersaredragged,shoutingandpleading,outofthebunker.Junelooksstricken.Hereyesfollowtheprisoners.

Andenturnsonuswithagraveexpression.“TheColonieshavehelp.”Adullthudechoesfromsomewhereaboveus,andthegroundand

ceilingtrembleinresponse.JunepeerscloseratAnden,asifanalyzinghim.“Whatkindofhelp?”

“Isawtheirsquadronsintheair,rightbeyondtheArmor.They’renotallColoniesjets.SomeofthemhaveAfricanstarspaintedontheirsides.MygeneralstellmethattheColoniesareconfidentenoughtohaveparkedan

airshipandasquadronofjetslessthanahalfmilefromourArmor,settingupmakeshiftairfieldsastheygo.Theyarerampingupforanotherassault.”

MyhandtightensaroundEden’s.Hesquintsattheswarmsofevacueescrowdednearthesubway,butheprobablycan’tseeanythingmorethanamassofmovingblurs.IwishIcouldtakethatfrightenedlookoffhisface.“HowlongisDenvergonnahold?”Iask.

“Idon’tknow,”Andenrepliesgrimly.“TheArmorisstrong,butwecan’tfightasuperpowerforlong.”

“Sowhatdowedonow?”Junesays.“Ifwecan’tholdthemoffalone,thenarewejustgoingtolosethiswar?”

Andenshakeshishead.“Weneedhelptoo.I’mgoingtogetusanaudiencewiththeUnitedNationsorwithAntarctica,seewhetherthey’rewillingtostepuptotheplate.Theymightbuyusenoughtimefor...”Heglancesatmybrother,quietandcalmbesideme.Astabofguiltandragehitsme.InarrowmyeyesatAnden—myhandclampstighteronmybrother’sarm.Edenshouldn’thavetobeinthemiddleofthis.Ishouldn’thavetochoosebetweenlosingmybrotherandlosingthisdamncountry.

“Hopefullyitwon’tcometothat,”Isay.AsheandJunelaunchintoanin-depthconversationaboutAntarctica,I

lookbackattheroomwhereTessandthePatriotsarebeingheld.Throughthewindow,IcanseeTesstendingcarefullytothegirlwiththebleedingshoulderwhilethesoldierslookonwithuneasyexpressions.Don’tknowwhyallthosetrainedkillersshouldbescaredofalittlegirlarmedwithahandfulofbandagesandrubbingalcohol.IshiverasIthinkofthewayAndenorderedthoseaccusedsoldiersoutofthebunkerandkilled.Pascaolooksfrustrated,andforamoment,hemeetsmystarethroughtheglass.Eventhoughhedoesn’tmovehismouth,Icantellwhathe’sthinking.

HeknowsthattrappingthePatriotsinsidearoomduringthemiddleofabattle,whileciviliansandsoldiersalikearegettingkilledaboveground,isatotalgoddywaste.

“Elector,”Isuddenlysay,turningbacktofaceAndenandJune.Hepausestostareatme.“Letthemoutofthisbunker.”WhenAndenstayssilent,compellingmetogoon,Iadd,“Theycanhelpyoureffortupthere.Ibettheycanplaytheguerrillagamebetterthananyofyoursoldiers,andsinceyouwon’tbeevacuatingthepoorsectorsforawhile,youmightneedallthehelpyoucanget.”

Junedoesn’tsayanythingaboutmylittlejab,butAndenfoldshisarms

acrosshischest.“Day,IpardonedthePatriotsaspartofouroriginaldeal—butIhaven’tforgottenaboutmydifficulthistorywiththem.WhileIdon’twanttoseeyourfriendsshackledlikeprisoners,Ihavenoreasontobelievethatthey’llnowhelpacountrythattheyhaveterrorizedforsolong.”

“They’reharmless,”Iinsist.“TheyhavenoreasontofightagainsttheRepublic.”

“Threedeath-rowprisonersjustescaped,”Andensnaps.“TheColonieshavelaunchedasurpriseattackonourcapital.Andnowmywould-beassassinsaresittingadozenyardsfromme.I’mnotinthemostforgivingmood.”

“I’mtryingtohelpyou,”Ifireback.“Youjustcaughtyourtraitors,anyway,didn’tyou?DoyoureallythinkthePatriotshadanythingtodowithCommanderJameson’sescape?Especiallywhenshethrewthemtothedogs?DoyouthinkIliketheideathatmymother’skillersareontheloosenow?UnleashthePatriots,andthey’llfightforyou.”

Andennarrowshiseyes.“Whatmakesyouthinkthey’resoloyaltotheRepublic?”

“Letmeleadthem,”Isay.Edenjerkshisheadupatmeinsurprise.“Andyou’llgetyourloyalty.”Juneshootsmeawarningglare—Itakeadeepbreath,swallowmyfrustration,andwillmyselftocalmdown.She’sright.NopointgettingangryatAndenifIneedhimonmyside.“Please,”Iaddinalowervoice.“Letmehelp.Youhavetotrustsomeone.Don’tjustleavepeopleouttheretodie.”

Andenstudiesmyfaceforalongmoment,andwithachill,Irealizehowmuchhelookslikehisfather.Thesimilarityisonlythereforaninstant,though—andthenitvanishes,replacedbyAnden’sserious,concernedgaze.Asifhesuddenlyrememberswhoweare.Hesighsdeeplyandtightenshislips.“Letmeknowwhatyourplanis,”hefinallysays.“Andwe’llsee.Inthemeantime,Isuggestyougetyourbrotheronasubway.”Whenheseesmyexpression,headds,“He’llbesafeuntilyoujoinhim.Youhavemyword.”

ThenheturnsawayandmotionsforJunetoaccompanyhim.IletmybreathoutasIwatchasoldierleadhimandJunetowardaclusterofgenerals.Junelooksoverhershoulderatmeastheygo.Iknowshe’sthinkingthesamethingIam.She’sworriedaboutwhatthiswarisdoingtoAnden.Whatit’sdoingtoallofus.

Lucyinterruptsmythoughts.“Perhapsweshouldgetyourbrotherontheevacuationtrain,”shesays.Shegivesmeasympatheticlook.

“Right.”IlookdownatEdenandpathisshoulder.ItrymybesttohavefaithintheElector’spromise.“Let’sheadovertothetrainandgetthedetailsonhowtogetyououtofhere.”

“Whataboutyou?”Edenasks.“Areyoureallygoingtoleadsomekindofassault?”

“I’llmeetupwithyouinLosAngeles.Iswear.”Edendoesn’tmakeasoundaswemakeourwayovertothetrain

platformandletthesoldiersescortustowardthefront.Hisexpressionhasgrownseriousandsullen.Whenwe’refinallyinfrontofthetrain’sclosedglassdoor,Ibendtohiseyelevel.“Look—I’msorryI’mnotgoingwithyourightaway.Ineedtostayhereandhelp,yeah?Lucy’sgotyou.She’llkeepyousafe.I’lljoinupwithyousoon—”

“Yeah,fine,”Edengrumbles.“Oh.”Iclearmythroat.Edenissicklyandtech-mindedand

occasionallyobnoxious,buthe’srarelyangrylikethis.Evenafterhisblindness,he’sstayedoptimistic.Sohisbluntnessthrowsmeoff.“Well,that’sgood,”Idecidetorespond.“I’mgladyou’re—”

“You’rehidingsomethingfromme,Daniel,”heinterrupts.“Icantell.Whatisit?”

Ipause.“No,I’mnot.”“You’reaterribleliar.”Edenpullshimselfoutofmygraspandfrowns.

“Something’sup.IcouldhearitintheElector’svoice,andthenyousaidthatweirdthingtometheotherday,abouthowyouwereafraidtheRepublic’ssoldierswouldcomeknockingonourdoor...Whywouldtheydothatallofasudden?Ithoughteverythingwasfinenow.”

Isighandbowmyhead.Eden’seyessoftenalittle,buthisjawstaysfirm.“Whatisit?”herepeats.

He’selevenyearsold.Hedeservestoknowthetruth.“TheRepublicwantsyoubackforexperimentation,”Ireply,keeping

myvoicelowsothatonlyhecanhearme.“There’savirusspreadingintheColonies.Theythinkyouhavetheantidoteinyourblood.Theywanttotakeyoutothelabs.”

Edenstaresinmydirectionforalong,silentmoment.Aboveus,anotherdullthudshakestheearth.IwonderhowwelltheArmor’sholdingup.Secondsdragby.Finally,Iputahandonhisarm.“Iwon’tletthemtakeyouaway,”Isay,tryingtoreassurehim.“Okay?You’regoingtobefine.Anden—theElector—knowsthathecan’ttakeyouawaywithoutriskinga

revolutionamongthepeople.Hecan’tdoitwithoutmypermission.”“AllthosepeopleintheColoniesaregoingtodie,aren’tthey?”Eden

muttersunderhisbreath.“Theoneswiththevirus?”Ihesitate.Ineveraskedmuchaboutexactlywhattheplague’ssymptoms

were—Istoppedlisteningtheinstanttheymentionedmybrother.“Idon’tknow,”Iconfess.

“Andthenthey’regoingtospreadittotheRepublic.”Edenturnshisheaddownandwringshishandstogether.“Maybethey’respreadingitrightnow.Iftheytakeoverthecapital,thediseasewillspread.Won’tit?”

“Idon’tknow,”Irepeat.Eden’seyessearchmyface.Eventhoughhe’snearlyblind,Icanseethe

unhappinessinthem.“Youdon’thavetomakeallmydecisions,youknow.”“Ididn’tthinkIwas.Don’tyouwanttoevacuatetoLA?It’ssaferthere,

andItoldyou—I’llcatchupwithyouthere.Ipromise.”“No,notthat.Why’dyoudecidetokeepthisasecret?”Thisiswhyhe’supset?“You’rekidding,right?”“Why?”Edenpresses.“Youwould’veagreed?”Imoveclosertohim,thenglancearoundatthe

soldiersandevacueesandlowermyvoice.“IknowIdeclaredmysupportforAnden,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’veforgottenwhattheRepublicdidtoourfamily.Toyou.WhenIwatchedyougetsick,whentheplaguepatrolscametoourdooranddraggedyououtonthatgurney,withbloodblackeningyoureyes...”Ipause,closemyeyes,andshutthesceneout.I’veplayeditinmyheadamilliontimes;noneedtorevisititagain.Thememorymakesthepainflareupatthebackofmyhead.

“Don’tyouthinkIknowthat?”Edenfiresbackinalow,defiantvoice.“You’remybrother,notourmom.”

Inarrowmyeyes.“Iamnow.”“No,you’renot.Mom’sdead.”Edentakesadeepbreath.“Iremember

whattheRepublicdidtous.OfcourseIdo.ButtheColoniesareinvading.Iwanttohelp.”

Ican’tbelieveEden’stellingmethis.Hedoesn’tunderstandthelengthstheRepublicwillgoto—hashereallyforgottentheirexperiments?Ileanforwardandputmyhandonhistinywrist.“Itcouldkillyou.Doyourealizethat?Andtheymightnotevenfindacureusingyourblood.”

Edenpullsawayfrommeagain.“It’smydecisiontomake.Notyours.”HiswordsechoJune’sfromearlier.“Fine,”Isnap.“Thenwhat’syour

decision,kid?”Hesteelshimself.“MaybeIwanttohelp.”“You’vegottabekiddingme.Youwanttohelpthemout?Areyoujust

doingthattogoagainstwhatI’msaying?”“I’mserious.”Alumprisesinmythroat.“Eden,”Ibegin,“we’velostMomandJohn.

Dadisgone.You’reallIhaveleft.Ican’taffordtoloseyoutoo.EverythingI’vedonesofar,I’vedoneforyou.I’mnotlettingyouriskyourlifetosavetheRepublic—ortheColonies.”

ThedefiancefadesfromEden’seyes.Hepropshisarmsupontherailingandleanshisheadagainsthishands.“Ifthere’sonethingIknowaboutyou,”hesays,“it’sthatyou’renotselfish.”

Ipause.Selfish.Iamselfish—IwantEdentostayprotected,outofharm’sway,andscrewwhateverhethinksaboutthat.Butathiswords,myguiltbubblesup.HowmanytimeshadJohntriedtokeepmeoutoftrouble?HowmanytimeshadhewarnedmeagainstmessingwiththeRepublic,ortryingtofindacureforEden?Ihadneverlistened,andIdon’tregretit.Edenstaresatmewithsightlesseyes,adisabilitytheRepublichandedtohim.Andnowhe’sofferinghimselfup,asacrificiallambtotheslaughter,andIcan’tunderstandwhy.

No.Idounderstand.Heisme—he’sdoingwhatIwould’vedone.Butthethoughtoflosinghimistoomuchtobear.Iputmyhandonhis

shoulderandstartsteeringhiminside.“GettoLAfirst.We’lltalkaboutthislater.Youbetterthinkthisthrough,becauseifyouvolunteerforthis—”

“Ididthinkitthrough,”Edenreplies.Thenhepullsoutofmygraspandstepsbackthroughthebalconydoor.“Andbesides,iftheycameforme,doyoureallythinkwecouldstopthem?”

Andthenhisturncomes.Lucyhelpshimstepontothesubway,andIholdhishandforabriefmomentbeforehehastoletgo.Despitehowupsetheseemstobe,Edenstillclutchesmyhandhard.“Hurryup,okay?”hesaystome.Withoutwarning,hethrowshisarmsaroundmyneck.Besidehim,Lucygivesmeoneofherreassuringsmiles.

“Don’tyouworry,Daniel,”shesays.“I’llwatchhimlikeahawk.”Inodgratefullyather.ThenIhugEdentight,squeezemyeyesshut,and

takeadeepbreath.“Seeyousoon,kid,”Iwhisper.ThenIreluctantlyuntanglehisfingersfrommine.Edendisappearsontothesubway.Momentslater,thetrainpullsawayfromthestationandtakesthefirstwaveof

evacueestowardtheRepublic’swestcoast,leavingonlyEden’swordsbehind,ringinginmymind.

MaybeIwanttohelp.Isitaloneforsometimeafterhistrainleaves,lostinthought,goingover

thosewordsrepeatedly.I’mhisguardiannow—Ihaveeveryrighttokeephimfromharm,andhellifI’mgoingtoseehimbackintheRepublic’slabsaftereverythingI’vedonetokeephimfromthere.Iclosemyeyesandburymyhandsinmyhair.

Afterawhile,ImakemywaybacktotheroomwherethePatriotsarebeingkept.Thedoor’sopen.WhenIstepinside,PascaoquitsstretchingouthisarmsandTesslooksupfromwhereshe’sfinishingthebandagingofthewoundedgirl’sshoulder.

“So,”Isaytothem,myeyeslingeringonTess.“YouguyscamebacktotowntogivetheColoniessomehell?”Tessdropshergaze.

Pascaoshrugs.“Well,itwon’tmatterifnooneletsusbackupthere.Why?Youhavesomethinginmind?”

“TheElector’sgivenhispermission,”Ireply.“AslongasI’mincharge,hethinkswe’llbegoodenoughnottoturnagainsttheRepublic.”Whatastupidfear,anyway.Theystillhavemybrother,don’tthey?

AslowsmilespreadsonPascao’sface.“Well.Thatsoundslikeitcouldbefun.Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”

Iputmyhandsinmypocketsandputmyarrogantmaskbackon.“WhatI’vealwaysbeengoodat.”

51.5HOURSSINCEMYFINALCONVERSATIONWITHTHOMAS.15HOURSSINCEILASTSAWDAY.8HOURSSINCETHECOLONIES’BOMBARDMENTOFDENVER’SARMORCAMETOALULL.

WE’REONTHEELECTOR’SPLANEHEADEDTOROSSCity,Antarctica.

IsitacrossfromAnden.Ollie’slyingatmyfeet.TheothertwoPrinceps-Electsareinanadjacentcompartment,separatedfromusbyglass(3×6feet,bulletproof,Republicsealcarvedonthesidefacingme,judgingfromtheedgesofthecut).Outsidethewindow,theskyisbrilliantblueandablanketofcloudspadsthebottomofourview.Anyminutenow,weshouldfeeltheplanedipandseethesprawlingAntarcticanmetropoliscomeintoview.

I’vestayedquietformostofthetrip,listeningonasAndentakesastreamofendlesscallsfromDenveraboutthebattle.Onlywhenwe’realmostoverAntarcticanwatersdoeshefinallyfallsilent.Iwatchhowthelightplaysonhisfeatures,contouringtheyoungfacethatholdssuchworld-wearythoughts.

“What’sthehistorybetweenusandAntarctica?”Iaskafterawhile.WhatIreallywanttosayis,Doyouthinkthey’llhelpus?butthatquestionisjustsillysmalltalk,impossibletoanswerandthuspointlesstoask.

Andenlooksawayfromthewindowandfixeshisbrightgreeneyesonme.“Antarcticagivesusaid.We’vetakeninternationalaidfromthemfordecades.Ourowneconomyisn’tstrongenoughtostandonitsown.”

ItstillunsettlesmethatthenationIoncebelievedsopowerfulisinrealitystrugglingforsurvival.“Andwhatisourrelationshipwiththemnow?”

Andenkeepshisgazesteadilyonme.Icanseethetensioninhiseyes,buthisfaceremainscomposed.“AntarcticahaspromisedtodoubletheiraidifwecandraftatreatythatcangettheColoniestalkingwithusagain.Andthey’vethreatenedtohalvetheiraidifwedon’thaveatreatybytheendofthisyear.”He

pauses.“Sowe’revisitingthemnotjusttoaskforhelp,buttotrytopersuadethemnottowithholdtheiraid.”

Wehavetoexplainwhyeverythinghasfallenapart.Iswallow.“WhyAntarctica?”

“TheyhavealongrivalrywithAfrica,”Andenreplies.“IfanyonewithpowerwillhelpuswinawaragainsttheColoniesandAfrica,it’llbethem.”Heleansforwardandrestshiselbowsonhisknees.Hisglovedhandsareafootawayfrommylegs.“We’llseewhathappens.Weowethemalotofmoney,andtheyhaven’tbeenhappywithusforthepastfewyears.”

“HasthePresidentevermetyouinperson?”“SometimesIvisitedwithmyfather,”Andenreplies.Heoffersmeacrooked

smilethatsendsunexpectedfluttersthroughmystomach.“Hewasacharmerduringmeetings.DoyouthinkIhaveachance?”

Ismileback.Icansensethedoublemeaninginhisquestion;he’snotjusttalkingaboutAntarctica.“You’recharismatic,ifthat’swhatyou’reasking,”Idecidetosay.

Andenlaughsalittle.Thesoundwarmsme.Helooksawayandlowershiseyes.“Ihaven’tbeenverysuccessfulatcharminganyonelately,”hemurmurs.

Theplanedips.Iturnmyattentiontomywindowandtakeadeepbreath,fightingdownthepinkrisingonmycheeks.

Thecloudsgrowneareraswedescend,andsoonweareengulfedinswirlinggraymist;afterafewminutesweemergefromtheirunderbellytoseeamassivestretchoflandcoveredinadenselayerofhigh-risesthatcomeinawildassortmentofbrightcolors.Isuckinmybreathatthesight.OnelookisallIneedtoconfirmjusthowmuchofatechnologicalandwealthgapthereisbetweentheRepublicandAntarctica.Athin,transparentdomestretchesacrossthecity,butwepassrightthroughitaseasilyasweslicedthroughtheclouds.Eachbuildingappearstohavetheabilitytochangecolorsonawhim(twohavealreadyshiftedfromapastelgreentoadeepblue,andonechangesfromgoldtowhite),andeachbuildinglooksbrand-new,polishedandflawlessinawaythatveryfewRepublicbuildingsare.Enormous,elegantbridgesconnectmanyofthetoweringskyscrapers,brilliantlywhiteunderthesun,eachonelinkingonebuilding’sfloortoitsadjacentbuildingandformingahoneycomb-likewebofivory.Theuppermostbridgeshaveroundplatformsintheircenters.WhenIlookcloser,Iseewhatseemlikeaircraftparkedontheplatforms.(Anotheroddity:Allofthehigh-riseshaveenormoussilverhologramsofnumbersfloatingovertheirroofs,eachrangingbetweenzeroandthirtythousand.Ifrown.Arethey

beingbeamedfromalightateachrooftop?Perhapstheysignifythepopulationlivingineachskyscraper—althoughifthatwerethecase,thirtythousandseemslikearelativelylowceilinggiventhesizeofeachbuilding.)

Ourpilot’svoiceringsoutovertheintercomtoinformusofourlanding.Asthecandy-coloredbuildingsgraduallyfillourentireview,wezeroinononeofthebridgeplatforms.Downbelow,Iseepeoplehurryingtoprepareforourjet’slanding.Whenwe’refinallyhoveringovertheplatform,anabruptjoltjerksallofussidewaysinourseats.Ollieliftshisheadandgrowls.

“We’remagneticallydockednow,”Andentellsmewhenheseesmystartledexpression.“Fromhereonout,ourpilotdoesn’tneedtodoathing.Theplatformitselfwillpullusdownforthelanding.”

WetouchdownsosmoothlythatIdon’tfeelathing.AswestepoutoftheplanealongwithourentourageofSenatorsandguards,I’mshockedfirstbyhownicethetemperatureisoutside.Acoolbreeze,thewarmthofthesun.Aren’tweatthebottomoftheearth?(Seventy-twodegreesismyassumption,southwestwind,abreezesurprisinglylightconsideringhowhighupfromgroundlevelweare.)ThenIrememberthethin,substance-lessdomewepassedthrough.ItmightbeawaytheAntarcticanscontroltheclimateintheircities.

Secondly,I’mshockedtoseeusimmediatelyusheredintoaplastictentbyateamofpeopleinwhitebiohazardsuitsandgasmasks.(ThenewsoftheColonies’plaguemusthavespreadhere.)Oneofthemquicklyinspectsmyeyes,nose,mouth,andears,andthenrunsabrightgreenlightacrossmyentirebody.Iwaitintensesilenceastheperson(maleorfemale?Ican’tbesure)analyzesthereadingonahandhelddevice.Fromthecornerofmyeye,IcanseeAndenundergoingthesametests—beingtheRepublic’sElectordoesnotapparentlyexemptonefrombeingpossiblycontaminatedwithplague.Ittakesagoodtenminutesbeforeweareallclearedforentryandledoutfromunderthetarp.

AndengreetsthreeAntarcticanpeople(eachdressedrespectivelyinagreen,black,orbluesuit,cutinanunfamiliarstyle)waitingforusonthelandingbridgewithafewguards.“Ihopeyourflightwentwell,”oneofthemsaysasMariana,Serge,andIapproach.ShegreetsusinEnglish,butheraccentisthickandlush.“Ifyouprefer,wecansendyouhomeinoneofourownjets.”

TheRepublicishardlyperfect;thatmuchI’veknownforalongtime,andcertainlyeversinceImetDay.ButtheAntarcticanwoman’swordsaresoarrogantthatIfeelmyselfbristle.ApparentlyourRepublicjetsaren’tgoodenoughforthem.IlookatAndentoseewhathisreactionwillbe,buthesimplybowshisheadandoffersabeautifulsmiletothewoman.“Gracias,Lady

Medina.Youarealwayssogracious,”hereplies.“I’mverygratefulforyouroffer,butIcertainlydon’twanttoimpose.We’llmakedo.”

Ican’thelpadmiringAnden.Everyday,Iseenewevidenceoftheburdensheshoulders.

Aftersomeargument,IreluctantlyletoneoftheguardstakeOllieawaytothehotelquarterswhereI’llbestaying.ThenweallfallintoaquietprocessionastheAntarcticansleadusofftheplatformandalongthebridgetowardtheconnectingbuilding(coloredscarlet,althoughI’mnotsureifit’sinhonorofourlanding).Imakeapointofwalkingclosetothebridge’sedge,sothatIcanlookdownatthecity.Foronce,ittakesmeawhiletocountthefloors(basedonthebridgesbranchingoutfromeveryfloor,thisbuildinghasoverthreehundredfloors—approximatelythreehundredtwenty-seven,althougheventuallyIlookawaytoshakeoffasenseofvertigo).Sunlightbathestheuppermostfloors,butthelowerfloorsarealsobrightlyilluminated;theymustbesimulatingsunlightforthosewalkingatgroundlevel.IwatchAndenandLadyMedinachatandlaughasiftheyareoldfriends.AndenfallssoneatlyintoitthatIcan’ttellwhetherhegenuinelylikesthiswomanorheissimplyplayingtheroleofanagreeablepolitician.ApparentlyourlateElectorhadatleasttrainedhissonwellininternationalrelations.

Thebuilding’sbridgeentrance,anarchwayframedwithintricatelycarvedswirls,slidesopentogreetus.Wehaltinalavishlydecoratedlobby(thickivorycarpetthat,tomyfascination,burstswithswirlsofcolorwhereverIputmyfeetdown;rowsofpottedpalms;acurvedglasswalldisplayingbrightadsandwhatseemlikeinteractivestationsforthingsIdon’tunderstand).Aswewalk,theAntarcticanshandeachofusathinpairofglasses.AndenandmanyoftheSenatorsimmediatelyputthemonasifthey’reusedtothisritual,buttheAntarcticansexplaintheglassesanyway.IwonderwhethertheyknowwhoIam,orwhethertheycare.Theycertainlynoticedmypuzzlementattheglasses.

“Keeptheseonforthedurationofyourvisit,”LadyMedinatellsuswithherrichaccent,althoughIknowherwordsaredirectedatme.“TheywillhelpyouseeRossCityasitreallyis.”

Intrigued,Iputtheglasseson.Iblinkinsurprise.ThefirstthingIfeelisasubtletickleinmyears,andthe

firstthingIseearethesmall,glowingnumbershoveringovertheheadsofeachoftheAntarcticans.LadyMedinahas28,627:LEVEL29,whilehertwocompanions(whohaveyettoutterasound)respectivelyhave8,819:LEVEL11and11,201:LEVEL13.WhenIlookaroundthelobby,Inoticeallsortsofvirtualnumbersandwords

—thegreenbulbousplantinthecornerhasWATER:+1hoveringoverit,whileCLEAN:+1floatsaboveadark,half-circlesidetable.Inthecornerofmyglasses,Iseetiny,glowingwords:

JUNEIPARISPRINCEPS-ELECT3REPUBLICOFAMERICALEVEL1SEPT.22.2132DAILYSCORE:0CUMULATIVESCORE:0We’vestartedwalkingagain.Noneoftheothersseemparticularlyconcerned

abouttheonslaughtofvirtualtextandnumberslayeredovertherealworld,soI’mlefttomyownintuition.(AlthoughtheAntarcticansaren’twearingglasses,theireyesoccasionallyflickertovirtualthingsintheworldinawaythatmakesmewonderwhethertheyhavesomethingembeddedintheireyes,orperhapsintheirbrains,thatpermanentlysimulatesallofthesevirtualthingsforthem.)

OneofLadyMedina’stwocompanions,abroad-shouldered,white-hairedmanwithverydarkeyesandgolden-brownskin,walksslowerthantheothers.Eventuallyhereachesmeneartheendoftheprocessionandfallsintostepbesideme.Itenseupathispresence.Whenhespeaks,though,hisvoiceislowandkind.“MissJuneIparis?”

“Yes,sir,”Ireply,bowingmyheadrespectfullyinthewayAndenhaddone.Tomysurprise,Iseethenumbersinthecornerofmyglasseschange:

SEPT.22.2132DAILYSCORE:1CUMULATIVESCORE:1Mymindspins.Somehow,theglassesmusthaverecordedmybowingaction

andaddedapointtothisAntarcticanscoringsystem,whichmeansbowingisequaltoonepoint.ThisisalsowhenIrealizesomethingelse:Whenthewhite-hairedmanspoke,Iheardabsolutelynoaccent—he’snowspeakingperfectEnglish.IglanceovertoLadyMedina,andwhenIcatchhintsofwhatshe’ssayingtoAnden,InoticethatherEnglishnowsoundsimpeccabletoo.The

tickleI’dfeltinmyearswhenIputontheglasses...maybeit’sactingassomesortoflanguagetranslationdevice,allowingtheAntarcticanstoreverttotheirnativelanguagewhilestillcommunicatingwithuswithoutmissingabeat.

Thewhite-hairedmannowleansovertomeandwhispers,“IamGuardsmanMakoare,oneofLadyMedina’snewerbodyguards.Shehasassignedmetobeyourguide,MissIparis,asitseemsyouareastrangertoourcity.It’squitedifferentfromyourRepublic,isn’tit?”

UnlikeLadyMedina,thewayGuardsmanMakoarespeakshasnocondescensioninitatall,andhisquestiondoesn’trubmethewrongway.“Thankyou,sir,”Ireplygratefully.“And,yes,IhavetoadmitthatthesevirtualnumbersIseeallovertheplacearestrangetome.Idon’tquiteunderstandit.”

Hesmilesandscratchesatthewhitescruffonhischin.“LifeinRossCityisagame,andweareallitsplayers.NativeAntarcticansdon’tneedglasseslikeyouvisitorsdo—allofushavechipsembeddednearourtemplesonceweturnthirteen.It’sapieceofsoftwarethatassignspointstoeverythingaroundus.”Hegesturestowardtheplants.“DoyouseethewordsWater—PlusOnehoveringoverthatplant?”Inod.“Ifyoudecidedtowaterthatplant,forexample,youwouldreceiveonepointfordoingso.AlmosteverypositiveactionyoumakeinRossCitywillearnyouachievementpoints,whilenegativeactionssubtractpoints.Asyouaccumulatepoints,yougainlevels.Rightnow,youareatLevelOne.”Hepausestopointupatthevirtualnumberfloatingoverhishead.“IamatLevelThirteen.”

“What’sthepointofreaching...levels?”Iaskasweleavethehallandstepintoanelevator.“Doesitdetermineyourstatusinthecity?Doesitkeepyourciviliansinline?”

GuardsmanMakoarenods.“You’llsee.”Westepoutoftheelevatorandheadoutontoanotherbridge(thistimeit’s

coveredwithanarchedglassroof)thatconnectsthisbuildingtoanother.Aswewalk,IbegintoseewhatGuardsmanMakoareistalkingabout.Thenewbuildingweenterlookslikeanenormousacademy,andaswepeerthroughglasspanelsintoclassroomslinedwithrowsofwhatmustbestudents,Inoticethatallofthemhavetheirownpointscoresandlevelshoveringovertheirheads.Atthefrontoftheroom,agiantglassscreendisplaysaseriesofmathquestions,eachwithaglowingpointscoreoverthem.

CALCULUSSEMESTER2Q1:6PTS

Q2:12PTSAndsoon.Atonepoint,Iseeoneofthestudentsattempttoleanoverand

cheatfromaneighbor.Thepointscoreoverhisheadflashesred,andasecondlaterthenumberdecreasesbyfive.

CHEATING:−5PTS1,642:LEVEL3Thestudentfreezes,thenquicklyreturnstolookingathisownexam.GuardsmanMakoaresmileswhenheseesmeanalyzingthesituation.“Your

levelmeanseverythinginRossCity.Thehigheryourlevel,themoremoneyyoumake,thebetterjobsyoucanapplyfor,andthemorerespectedyouare.Ourhighestscorersarewidelyadmiredandquitefamous.”Hepointstowardthebackofthecheatingstudent.“Asyoucansee,ourcitizensaresoengrossedinthisgameoflifethatmostofthemknowbetterthantodothingsthatwilldecreasetheirscores.WehaveverylittlecrimeinRossCityasaresult.”

“Fascinating,”Imurmur,myeyesstillgluedtotheclassroomevenaswereachtheendofthehallwayandheadoutontoanotherbridge.Afterawhile,anewmessagepopsupinthecornerofmyglasses.

WALKED1,000METERS:+2PTSDAILYSCORE:3CUMULATIVESCORE:3Tomysurprise,seeingthenumbersgoupgivesmeabriefthrillof

accomplishment.IturntoGuardsmanMakoare.“Icanunderstandhowthislevelingsystemisgoodmotivationforyourcitizens.Brilliant.”Idon’tsaymynextthoughtaloud,butsecretlyIwonder,Howdotheydistinguishbetweengoodandbadactions?Whodecidesthat?Whathappenswhensomeonespeaksoutagainstthegovernment?Doesherscoregoupordown?Imarvelatthetechnologyavailablehere—itreallymakesclear,forthefirsttime,exactlyhowfarbehindtheRepublicis.Havethingsalwaysbeensounequal?Wereweevertheleaders?

Weeventuallysettleinsideabuildingwithalarge,semicircularchamberusedforpoliticalmeetings(“TheDiscussionRoom,”LadyMedinacallsit).It’s

linedwithflagsfromcountriesaroundtheworld.Inthechamber’scenterisalong,mahoganywoodtable,andnowtheAntarcticandelegatessitononesidewhilewesitontheother.TwomoredelegateswhoareatsimilarlevelsasLadyMedinajoinusaswebeginourtalks,butit’sathirddelegatewhocatchesmyattention.He’sinhismidforties,withbronzehairanddarkskinandawell-trimmedbeard.ThetexthoveringoverhisheadreadsLEVEL202.

“PresidentIkari,”LadyMedinasaysassheintroduceshimtous.AndenandtheotherSenatorsbowtheirheadsrespectfully.Idothesame.AlthoughIdon’tdareturnmyeyesawayfromthediscussion,IcanseetheRepublic’sflaginmyperipheralvision.WithmyglassesIseethevirtualtextTHEREPUBLICOFAMERICAaboveitinglowingletters.RightnexttoitistheColoniesflag,withitsblackandgraystripesandthebrightgoldbirdinitscenter.

Someoftheothercountries’flagshavethewordAllyhoveringundertheirnames.Butwedon’t.

Fromthebeginning,ourdiscussionistense.“Itseemslikeyourfather’splanshavebackfiredagainstyou,”thePresident

tellsAnden.Heleansstifflyforward.“TheUnitedNationsis,ofcourse,concernedthatAfricahasalreadygivenaidtotheColonies.TheColoniesdeclinedaninvitationtotalkwithus.”

Andensighs.“Ourscientistsarehardatworkonacure,”hecontinues.Inoticehedoesn’tmentionDay’sbrotherinallthis,andDay’slackofcooperation.“ButtheColonies’forcesareoverwhelmingwithAfrica’smoneyandmilitarysupportingthem.Weneedhelptopushthemback,orweriskbeingoverrunwithinthemonth.Theviruscouldspreadtousaswell—”

“Youspeakwithpassion,”thePresidentinterrupts.“AndIhavenodoubtthatyou’redoinggreatthingsastheRepublic’snewleader.Butasituationlikethis...Thevirusmustfirstbecontained.AndI’veheardtheColonieshavealreadybreachedyourborders.”

ThePresident’shoney-goldeyesarepiercinglybright.WhenSergetriestospeakup,hesilenceshimimmediately,nevertakinghiseyesoffAnden.“LetyourElectorrespond,”hesays.Sergefallsbackintosullensilence,butnotbeforeIcatchasmuglookpassbetweentheSenators.Mytemperrises.They—theSenator,theAntarcticanPresident,evenAnden’sownPrinceps-Elect—arealltauntingAndenintheirownsubtleways.Interruptinghim.Emphasizinghisage.IlookatAnden,quietlywillinghimtostandupforhimself.Mariananodsonceathim.

“Sir?”shesays.

I’mrelievedwhenAndenfirstshootsadisapprovinglookatSerge,thenliftshischinandcalmlyreplies.“Yes.We’vemanagedtoholdthemofffornow,buttheyarerightattheoutskirtsofourcapital.”

ThePresidentleansforwardandrestshiselbowsonthetable.“So,there’sapossibilitythatthisvirushasalreadycrossedintoyourterritory?”

“Yes,”Andenreplies.ThePresidentissilentforamoment.Finally,hesays,“Whatexactlydoyou

want?”“Weneedmilitarysupport,”Andenreplies.“Yourarmyisthebestinthe

world.Helpussecureourborders.Butmostofall,helpusfindacure.They’vewarnedusthatacureistheonlywaythey’llretreat.Andweneedtimetomakethathappen.”

ThePresidenttightenshislipsandshakeshisheadonce.“Nomilitarysupport,money,orsupplies.I’mafraidyou’refartooindebtedtousforthat.Icanoffermyscientiststohelpyoufindacureforthedisease.ButIwillnotsendmytroopsintoanareainfectedwithdisease.It’stoodangerous.”WhenheseesthelookonAnden’sface,hiseyesharden.“Pleasekeepusupdated,asIhopeasmuchasyoudotoseearesolutionforthis.Iapologizethatwecan’tbeofmorehelptoyou,Elector.”

Andenleansonthetableandlaceshisfingerstogether.“WhatcanIdotopersuadeyoutohelpus,Mr.President?”hesays.

ThePresidentsitsbackinhischairandregardsAndenforamomentwithathoughtfullook.Itchillsme.He’sbeenwaitingforAndentosaythis.“You’regoingtohavetooffermesomethingworthmywhile,”hefinallysays.“Somethingyourfatherneveroffered.”

“Andwhat’sthat?”“Land.”Myhearttwistspainfullyatthosewords.Givingupland.Inordertosaveour

country,we’llhavetosellourselvestoanothernation.Somethingaboutitfeelsasviolatingassellingourownbodies.Givingupyourownchildtoastranger.Tearingawayapieceofourhome.IlookatAnden,tryingtodeciphertheemotionsbehindhiscomposedexterior.

Andenstaresathimforalongmoment.Ishethinkingaboutwhathisfatherwouldsayinasituationlikethis?Ishewonderingwhetherhe’sasgoodaleadertohispeople?Finally,Andenbowshishead.Graceful,eveninhumility.“I’mopentodiscussion,”hesaysquietly.

ThePresidentnodsonce.Icanseethesmallsmileatthecornersofhislips.

“Thenwe’lldiscuss,”hereplies.“Ifyoufindacuretothisvirus,andifweagreetotheland,thenIpromiseyoumilitarysupport.Untilthen,theworldwillhavetodealwiththisaswedowithanypandemic.”

“Andwhatdoyoumeanbythat,sir?”Andenasks.“Wewillneedtosealyourportsandborders,aswellastheColonies’.Other

nationswillneedtobenotified.I’msureyouunderstand.”Anden’ssilent.IhopethePresidentdoesn’tseethestrickenlookonmyface.

TheentireRepublicisgoingtobequarantined.

JUNE’SLEFTFORANTARCTICA.EDEN’SGONETOLOSANGELESwiththesecondwaveofevacuees.Therestofusstaydowninthisbunker,listeningastheColonies’assaultcontinues.Thistimethefightingsoundsworse.Sometimestheearthtremblessomuchthatfinedustrainsdownonusfromtheundergroundbunker’sceiling,coatinglinesofevacueeswithgrayashastheyhurryontothewaitingtrains.Rotatinglightsoverthetunnelpaintusallinflashesofred.Iwonderhowotherbunkersacrossthecityareholdingup.Theevacuationsgrowmoreurgentaseachtrainleavesonthehourandisreplacedbyanewone.Whoknowshowlongthistunnelwillstaystable.NowandthenIseesoldiersshovingciviliansbackintolinewhentheygetunruly.“Singlefile!”theybarkout,hoistingtheirgunsthreateningly.TheirfacesarehiddenbehindriotmasksthatIknowalltoodamnwell.“Dissidentswillbeleftbehind,noquestionsasked.Movealong,people!”

Istayatoneendofthebunkerasthedustcontinuestoraindown,huddledwithPascao,Tess,andtheotherremainingPatriots.Atfirstafewsoldierstriedtohustlemeontooneofthetrains,buttheyleftmealoneafterIlashedoutatthemwithastringofcurses.Nowtheyignoreme.IwatchpeopleloadontothetrainforafewsecondsbeforeIreturntomyconversationwithPascao.Tesssitsbesideme,althoughtheunspokentensionbetweenusmakesherfeelmuchfartheraway.Myever-presentheadachepoundsadullrhythmagainstthebackofmyhead.

“YousawmoreofthecitythanIdid,”IwhispertoPascao.“HowdoyouthinktheArmorisholdingup?”

“Notgreat,”Pascaoresponds.“Infact,withanothercountryhelpingtheColonies,Iwouldn’tbesurprisediftheArmorbreaksdowninamatterofdayswiththiskindofassault.It’snotgonnaholdforlong,trustme.”

Iturntoseehowmanypeoplearestillwaitingtoboardthetrains.“HowshouldwegoaboutthrowingtheColoniessomecurveballs?”

Anothervoicepipesup.It’soneoftheHackers,Frankie,thegirlwiththewoundedshoulder.“Ifwecangetourhandsonafewelectrobombs,”shesaysinathoughtfulvoice,“IcanprobablyrewirethemtoscramblesomeoftheColonies’weaponsorsomething.Wemightbeabletothrowtheirjetsofftoo.”

Jets.That’sright—AndenhadmentionedtheColoniesjetsparkedonamakeshiftairfieldoutsidetheArmor’swalls.“Icangetmyhandsonsome,”Iwhisper.“Andsomegrenadestoo.”

Pascaoclickshistongueinexcitement.“Sowegettohavefunwithnitroglycerineinyourplan?Yougetonthat,then.”HeturnstoaddressBaxter,whoshootsmeacrankyglare.Hisearlooksasmangledasever.“Hey,Baxterboy.BackupGioroandFrankie,makesureyougivethemcoverwhilethey’reworkingtheirmagic.”

“Pascao,”Isayquietly.“Youupforsomedecoywork?”Helaughs.“It’swhatRunnersarebestat,yeah?”“Let’splaywiththemalittle—IwantyoutobemydoublewhileI’m

headingtowardtheirmakeshiftairfield.”“Soundspromising.”“Good.”Despitethegrimnessofthesituation,Ismile.Anoteof

haughtinesscreepsintomyvoice.“Thisnight’llendwithabunchofexpensive,uselessmilitarymachines.”

“You’reoutofyourmind,blinderboy,”Baxtersnapsatme.“TheRepublicitselfcan’tevenkeeptheColoniesout—youthinkourlittlegroupstandsachanceatbeatingthem?”

“Wedon’tneedtobeatthem.Allweneedtodoisstallthem.AndI’mprettysurewe’regoodatthat.”

Baxterletsoutaloudsnortofirritation—butPascao’sgringrowswider.Nexttome,Tessshiftsuncomfortably.She’sprobablythinkingbackonmypastcrimes,howshe’dhadtowitnessthemallandhowshe’dhadtobandagemeupaftereverysingleone.Maybeshe’sworriedaboutme.Ormaybeshe’sglad.Maybeshe’drathermenotbehereatall.Butshehadcomebackherebecauseofme.That’swhatshesaid,isn’tit?Shemuststillcare,atleastonsomelevel.Itrytothinkoftherightthingtosaytohertofillthisawkwardsilence,butinsteadIquestiontheothers.“Youtoldmebackintheroomthatyouguyscamebackherebecauseyouwantedtobepardoned.Butyoucould’vetriedescapingtoacountryotherthantheRepublic,yeah?Youwouldn’tevenhavetohelptheRepublicout.Anden—

theElector,thatis—hewould’vepardonedyouallanyway.”MyeyesfallonPascao.“Youknewthat,didn’tyou?Why’dyouallreallycomebackhere?Iknowit’snotjustbecauseyouheardmyplea.”

Pascao’sgrinfades,andforamomentheactuallylooksserious.Hesighs,thengazesaroundatourlittlegroup.It’shardtobelievetheyusedtobeapartofsomethingsomuchlarger.“We’rethePatriots,right?”hefinallysays.“We’resupposedtobecommittedtoseeingtheUnitedStatesreturninsomewayorother.WiththewaythingsseemtobeintheColonies,Idon’tknowifthey’dbetherightonestobringthatkindachangeabout.ButIgottaadmit,thenewRepublicElectorhaspotential,andafterwhatRazorpulledonus,evenIthinkAndenmightbetheanswerwe’vebeenwaitingfor.”PascaopausestonodatBaxter,whojustshrugs.“EvenBaxterboyherethinksso.”

Ifrown.“SoyouguyscamebackherebecauseyougenuinelywanttohelptheRepublicwinthiswar?Youseriouslywanttohelpusdefendourselves?”Pascaonodsagain.“Whydidn’tyousaythatbackintheroom?Would’vesoundedprettynoble.”

“No,itwouldn’t.”Pascaoshakeshishead.“Theywouldn’thavebelievedus.ThePatriots,theterroristswhousedtoblowupRepublicsoldierseverychancetheygot?Yeah,right.Ifiguredit’dbebetterforusifweplayedthepardoncardinstead.It’dseemlikeamorerealisticanswerforyourElectorandyourlittlePrinceps-Elect.”

Istaysilent.WhenPascaoseesmehesitate,hedustsoffhishandsandstandsup.“Let’sgetstarted,”hesaystome.“Notimetowaste,notwiththishailstormhappeningupstairs.”HemotionsfortheotherPatriotstogatheraroundandstartsdivvyinguptheirindividualtasks.Irisetoacrouch.

Tesstakesadeepbreath,andwhenshecatchesmygazeagain,shespeakstomeforthefirsttimesincebeingintheroomtogether.“I’msorry,Day.”Shesaysitsoftly,sothattheotherscan’thear.

IfreezewhereIam,restingmyelbowsonmycrouchedlegs.“Why?”Ireply.“Youdon’thaveanythingtobesorryfor.”

“Yes,Ido.”Tesslooksaway.Howdidshegrowupsoquickly?She’sstillthin,stilldelicate,buthereyesbelongtosomeoneolderthanIremember.“Ididn’tmeantoleaveyoubehind,andIdidn’tmeantoblameJuneforeverything.Idon’treallybelieveshe’sbad.Ineverreallybelievedthat.Iwasjustso...angry.”

Herfacepullsmetoherlikeitalwaysdoes,thewayitdidallthewaybackwhenIfirstsawherdiggingaroundinthatdumpster.IwishIcouldhugher,butIsitbackandwait,lettinghermakethecall.“Tess...,”Isayslowly,tryingtofigureoutthebestwaytoexpresswhatI’mfeeling.Hell,I’vesaidsomanystupidthingstoherinthepast.“Iloveyou.Nomatterwhathappensbetweenus.”

Tesswrapsherarmsaroundherknees.“Iknow.”Iswallowhardandlookdown.“ButIdon’tloveyouthewayyouwant

meto.I’msorryifIevergaveyouthewrongimpression.Idon’tthinkI’veevertreatedyouaswellasyoudeserve.”Myhearttwistspainfullyasthewordsleavemymouth,strikingherastheygo.“Sodon’tbesorry.It’smyfault,notyours.”

Tessshakesherhead.“Iknowyoudon’tlovemethatway.Don’tyouthinkIknowthatbynow?”Anoteofbitternessentershervoice.“Butyoudon’tknowhowIfeelaboutyou.Noonedoes.”

Igiveheralevellook.“Tellme,then.”“Day,youmeanmoretomethansomecrush.”Herbrowsfurrowasshe

triestoexplainherself.“Whentheentireworldturneditsbackonmeandleftmetodie,youtookmein.Youweretheonepersonwhocaredaboutwhatmighthappentome.Youwereeverything.Everything.Youbecamemyentirefamily—youweremyparentsandmysiblingsandmycaretaker,myonlyfriendandcompanion,youwerebothmyprotectorandsomeonewhoneededprotecting.Yousee?Ididn’tloveyouinthewayyoumight’vethoughtIdid,althoughIcan’tdenythatwaspartofit.ButthewayIfeelgoesbeyondthat.”

Iopenmymouthtoreply,butnothingcomesout.Idon’tknowwhattosay.AllIcandoissee.

Tessletsoutashakybreath.“SowhenIthoughtJunemighttakeyouaway,Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Ifeltlikeshewastakingeverythingthatmatteredtome.IfeltlikeshewastakingawayfromyouallthethingsthatIdidn’thave.”Shelowershereyes.“That’swhyI’msorry.I’msorrybecauseyoushouldn’thavetobeeverythingtome.Ihadyou,butI’dforgottenthatIhadmyselftoo.”ShepausestolookoveratthePatriots,whoaredeepinconversation.“It’sanewfeeling,somethingI’mstillgettingusedto.”

Andjustlikethat,we’rebothkidsagain.Iseetheyoungerus,danglingourfeetovertheedgeofsomebrokenhigh-rise,watchingthesundipeveryeveningbelowtheocean’shorizon.Howmuchwe’veseensincethen,how

farwe’vecome.Ireachovertotaphernoseonce,justlikehowIalwayshave.Shesmiles

forthefirsttime.

***

Thenighthastransitionedintotheearlyhourbeforedawn,andthedrizzleandslushhasfinallypaused,leavingthecityglisteningunderthemoonlight.Theevacuationalarmstillechoeseverynowandthen,andtheJumboTronscontinuetheirominousredwarningtoseekcover,butabrieflullhashitthebattleandtheskiesaren’tfullofjetsandexplosions.Guessbothsideshavetorestuporsomething.Irubthewearinessfrommyeyesandtrytoignoremyheadache—Icouldusesomerest.

“It’snotgonnabeeasy,youknow,”Pascaowhisperstomeaswebothsurveythemorning.“They’reprobablyonthelookoutforRepublicsoldiers.”We’reperchedontopoftheArmor,watchingthefieldjustbeyondthecity’sboundaries.It’snotlikepeopledon’tliveoutsidetheArmor,butunlikeLA,whichisjustonelargespreadofbuildingsthatmeltsrightintoitsneighboringcities,Denver’spopulationissparseroutsidethesafetyofitswalls.Smallclustersofbuildingssithereandthere.Theyseemempty,andIwonderiftheRepublicsawtheColoniesapproachingfromadistanceandevacuatedtheirpeopleinsidetheArmor.AlthoughtheColonies’airshipshavereturnedbacktotheirownlandinordertorefuel,they’veleftabunchofjetsinthefields,andtheareasthey’veoccupiedarewelllitwithfloodlights.I’mkindofshockedbyhowrepulsedIamatthethoughtoftheColoniestakingusover.Ayearago,Iwouldbecheeringatthetopofmygoddylungsforthisexactscenario.ButnowIjustheartheColonies’sloganoverandoverinmyhead.Afreestateisacorporatestate.TheadsIrememberfromtheircitiesmakemeshiver.

It’shardtodecidewhichIprefer,really:watchmybrothergrowupundertheColonies’rule,orwatchhimtakenbackforexperimentationbytheRepublic?

“Yeah,they’llbeonthelookout,”Iagree.ThenIturnawayfromtheArmor’sedgeandstartmakingmywaydownthewall.AlongtheArmor’souteredge,Republicjetslieparked,manned,andready.“Butwe’renotRepublicsoldiers.Iftheycanhituswithasurpriseattack,thensocanwe.”

PascaoandIaredressedexactlyalike,inblackfromheadtotoe,with

maskspulledoverourfaces.Ifitweren’tforalittleheightdifference,Idon’tthinkanyonewouldbeabletotellusapart.

“Youtwoready?”PascaomuttersintohismiketoourHackers.Thenheglancesatmeandgivesathumbs-upsignal.Ifthey’reinplace,thenthatmeansTessisinplacetoo.Staysafe.

WemakeourwaydowntothegroundandthenletseveralRepublicsoldiersguideusaroundtoasmall,discreetundergroundpassage.ItleadsoutsidetheArmorandintodangerousterritory.Thesoldiersnodasilent“goodluck”tousbeforeretreatingbackinside.Ihopetohellthisallworks.

IlookoutatthefieldwhereColoniesjetsareparked.WhenIfirstturnedfifteen,Ihadsetfiretoaseriesoftenbrand-newF-472RepublicfighterjetsparkedattheBurbankairforcebaseinLosAngeles.Itwasthefirststuntthatlandedmeatthetopofthemostwantedlist,andoneofthecrimesJuneherselfactuallymademeconfesstowhenI’dbeenarrested.Ididitbyfirststealinggallonsofhighlyexplosivebluenitroglidefromairforcebases,thenpouringtheliquidintothejets’exhaustnozzlesandacrossthetailendofthejets.Theinstanttheirenginesturnedon,theirtailsexplodedintoflames.

Thememorycomesbacktomeinsharpfocus.ThedesignoftheColoniesjetslooksdifferent,withtheirstrange,forward-sweptwings,butattheendofthedaythey’restilljustmachines.Andthistime,I’mnotworkingalone.I’vegottheRepublic’ssupport.Mostimportantly,I’vegottheirexplosives.

“Readytomakeyourmove?”IwhispertoPascao.“Gotyourbombs?”“YouthinkI’dforgettobringbombs?Youshouldknowmebetterthan

that.”Pascao’svoiceturnstaunting.“Day—nobullthistime.Gotit,prettyboy?Ifyousuddenlythinkyouwannagorogue,yousureashellbettertellmefirst.ThenatleastI’llhavetimetosockyouintheface.”

Ismilealittleatthejab.“Yes,sir.”Ouroutfitsblendusintotheshadows.Wecreepforwardwithouta

sound,untilwe’repasttheshortdistancewheretheArmor’sgunscouldprotectusfromtheground.Nowwe’reoutofrange,andtheColonies’makeshiftairfieldlookswithinreach.Theirsoldiersstandguardalongtheedgesofthefield.Notfarawayareacouplerowsoftanks.Theirairshipsmightnotbehere,buttheresureashellareenoughwarmachinestostartupanotherbattle.

PascaoandIcrouchbehindapileofrubbleneartheairfield.AllIcan

seeinthislightishissilhouette.Henodshisheadoncebeforewhisperingsomethingintohismike.

Wewaitforafewtenseseconds.ThentheJumboTronsthatlinetheouteredgesoftheArmorlightupinunison.DisplayedacrossthescreensisaRepublicflag,andoverthecity’sloudspeakers,thepledgeblaresoutacrossthenight.ThewholethinglooksexactlylikeoneoftheRepublic’stypicalpropagandareels—theJumboTronsstartdisplayinggenericvideosofpatrioticsoldiersandcivilians,warvictoriesandprosperousstreets.Attheairfield,thesoldiers’attentionshiftstotheJumboTrons’feed.Atfirsttheylookalertandwary,butasthereelcontinuesforafewsecondslonger,theColoniessoldiersrelax.

Good.TheythinktheRepublic’sjustbroadcastingmorale-boostingvideo.NothingweirdenoughtoputtheColoniesonhighalert,butsomethingentertainingenoughtoholdtheirinterest.IpickoutanareawherethesoldiersareallwatchingtheJumboTrons,thennodatPascao.Hemotionsatme.Myturntoheadout.

IsquinthardertoseewhereIcansqueezeontotheairfield.TherearefourColoniessoldiershere,allofthemfocusedonthebroadcast;asoldierdressedlikeapilotisthefarthestawayandhashisbacktome,andfromhereitlookslikehe’smakingfunofthebroadcastwithapalofhis.IwaituntilalloftheguardsarelookingawayfromwhereIam.ThenIscamperovertheedgewithoutasoundandhidebehindtheclosestjet’sbacklandingwheel.Ituckmyselfintoatightball,lettingmyblackoutfitblendmeinwiththeshadows.

Oneoftheguardslookscasuallyoverhisshouldertowardthejet.Whenhedoesn’tseeanythinginteresting,though,hereturnstosurveyingtheArmor.

Iwaitforafewmoreseconds.ThenIadjustmybackpackandclimbupinsidethejet’sexhaustnozzle.Myheartpoundswithanticipationatthedéjàvuthisgivesme.Iwastenotimenow—Ipullasmallmetalcubeoutofmypackandattachitfirmlytotheinsideofthenozzle.Itsdisplaypanelgivesoffaveryfaintredglow,sodimIcanbarelyseeit.Imakesureit’ssecure,andthenshifttotheedgeofthenozzle.Wewon’thavemuchlongerbeforetheguardsloseinterestinourlittlepropagandadistraction.Whenthecoast’sclear,Ihopoutofthenozzle.Mycushionedbootslandwithoutasound.Imeltbackintotheshadowscastbythejet’slandinggear,watchforguards,andmovetothenextrowofjets.Pascaoshouldbedoingtheexact

sameworkontheothersideofthefield.Ifthisallgoesdownasplanned,thenoneexplosiveperrowshoulddoplentyofdamage.

BythetimeImakemywaytothethirdrowofjetsandfinishmyworkthere,I’msoakedinsweat.Offinthedistance,theJumboTrons’propagandakeepsrunning,butIcantellthatsomeoftheguardshavealreadylostinterest.Timetogetoutofhere.Ilowermyselfsilentlytowardthegroundagain,danglethereintheshadows,andthenpicktherightmomenttodropandrushtowardthedarkness.

Exceptitwasn’treallytherightmoment.Oneofmyhandsslipsandthemetaledgeoftheexhaustnozzleslicesmypalmopen.Myweakenedbodydoesn’tlandperfectly—Iletoutagruntofpainandmovetooslowlyintothelandinggear’sshadows.Aguardspotsme.BeforeIcanstophim,hiseyeswidenandheliftshisgunatme.

Hehasn’tevenhadachancetoshoutoutwhenashiningknifecomesflyingoutofthedarknessandsinksitselfinthesoldier’sneck.Iwatchforaninstant,horrified.Pascao.Iknowitwashim,savingmyasswhiledrawingattentiontohimself.Alreadyacoupleofshoutshavegoneupontheothersideoftheairfield.He’spullingtheirfocusawayfromme.Iseizetheopportunity,racingintotherelativesafetyofthelandoutsidetheairfield.

IclickmymikeonandcallPascao.“Areyousafe?”Iwhisperurgently.“Safeasyou,prettyboy,”hehissesback,thesoundsofheavybreathing

andfootstepsloudinmyearpiece.“Justgotoutoftheairfield’srange.GiveFrankietheokay—Igottashaketwomoreoffmytail.”Hehangsup.

IcontactFrankie.“We’reready,”Itellher.“Let’emgo.”“Yougotit,”Frankieanswers.TheJumboTronssuddenlystoptheirreel

andgodark—thesoundblastingacrossthecitycutsshort,plungingusallintoaneeriesilence.Coloniessoldierswho’dprobablybeenpursuingPascaonowlookupattheblankJumboTronsinbewilderment,alongwiththeothers.

Afewsecondsofsilencepass.Thenabright,blindingexplosionripsapartthecenteroftheairfield.I

steadymyself.WhenIlookbackatthefirstlineofsoldiersonthestreet,Iseethemknockedofftheirfeetandpickingthemselvesslowlyupinadaze.Sparksofelectricityfilltheair,jumpingfranticallybackandforthbetweenthejets.Soldiersfartherdownthestreetpointtheirgunsupatthebuildings,firingrandomly—buttheonesalongthefrontlinediscoverthat

theirgunsnolongerwork.IkeeprunningbacktowardtheArmor.Anotherexplosionrocksthesameareaandanenormousgoldenhaze

engulfseverythinginsight.ShoutsofpanicrisefromtheColoniestroops.Theycan’tseewhat’shappening,butIknowthatrightnoweachbombwe’dplantedisdestroyingtherowsofjets,bothcripplingthemandtemporarilydisablingthemagnetsintheirguns.Someofthempullouttheirgunsandfirerandomlyintothedarkness,asifRepublicsoldiersarelyinginwait.Iguessthey’renotentirelywrong.Rightoncue,theRepublicjetsalongtheArmortakeoffintothesky.Theirroarsdeafenme.

IswitchmymikebacktoFrankie.“Howaretheevacuationsgoing?”“Assmoothlyaspossible,”shereplies.“Probablytwomorewavesof

peopleleft.Readyforyourbigmoment?”“Goforit,”Iwhisperback.TheJumboTronsflaretolife.Thistime,though,they’redisplayingmy

paintedfaceonalloftheirscreens.Aprerecordedvideowemade.IsmilewidelyfortheColonies,evenastheyscrambletowhatjetstheystillhave,andinthisinstant,IfeellikeI’mlookingintothefaceofastranger,afacethat’sunfamiliarandterrifyingbehinditswideblackstripe.Foramoment,Ican’tevenrememberrecordingthisvideointhefirstplace.Thethoughtmakesmescrambleforthememoryinapanic,untilIfinallyrecallitandbreatheasighofrelief.“MynameisDay,”myJumboTronvideoselfsays,“andI’mfightingfortheRepublic’speople.IfIwereyou,I’dbealittlemorecareful.”

Frankiecutsmyfeedagain.Overhead,theRepublic’sjetsscreamacrossthesky—Iseeorangefireballslightuptheairfield.Withourstuntandhalftheirjetsgone,andtheadvantageofsurprise,theColoniessoldiersscrambleforaretreat.Ibetthecallsgoingbacktotheircommandareflyingfastandfuriousnow.

Frankiecomesbackonline.Shesoundselated.“TheRepublic’stroopshavegottenwindofoursuccess,”shesays.Inthebackground,Ihear—tomyrelief—Pascao’slineclickontoo.“Nicejob,Runners.GioroandBaxterarealreadyontheirway.”Shesoundsdistracted.“We’reheadingbackinnow.Gimmeafewseconds,andwe’llbe—”

Shecutsoff.Iblink,surprised.“Frankie?”Isay,reconnectingtoher.Nothing.AllIhearisstatic.

“Where’dshego?”Pascaosaysthroughthewhitenoise.“Didshegoofflineforyoutoo?”

“Yeah.”Iscrambleonward,tryingnottothinktheworst.ThesafetyoftheArmorisn’tfaraway—Icanmakeoutthetinysideentrancewe’resupposedtoreturnthrough—andhere,inthemidstofallthechaos,IseeseveralRepublicsoldiersrushingthroughthedusttofaceoffagainstanyColoniestroopsthatmighthavefollowedus.Justafewyardsfromthedoornow.

Abulletsparkspastme,narrowlymissingmyear.ThenIhearascreamthatmakesmybloodruncold.WhenIwhirlaround,IseeTessandFrankierunningbehindme.They’releaningoneachother.BehindthemmustbefiveorsixColoniessoldiers.Ifreeze,thenquicklychangecourse.IyankaknifefrommybeltandthrowitatthesoldiersashardasIcan.Itcatchesoneofthemcleanintheside—hedropstohisknees.Theothersnoticeme.TessandFrankiebarelymakeittothedoor.Idashtowardthem.Behindme,thesoldiershoisttheirguns.

JustasTesspushesFrankiethroughtheentrance,asoldierstepsoutoftheshadowsnearthedoor.Irecognizehiminstantly.It’sThomas,agundanglingfromonehand.

HiseyesarefixedonTessandme,andhisexpressionisdark,deadly,andfurious.Foraninstant,theworldseemstogosilent.Iglanceathisgun.Hehoistsit.No.Instinctively,ImovetowardTess,shieldingherwithmybody.He’sgoingtokillus.

Butevenasthisthoughtracesthroughmymind,Thomasturnshisbackonus,facingtheoncomingColoniessoldiersinstead.Hishandquiverswithrageandtightensonthegun.Shockpulsesthroughme,butthere’snotimetothinkaboutthatnow.“Go,”IurgeTess.Westumblethroughthesidedoor.

Inthatsamemoment,Thomasraiseshisgun—hefiresoneshot,thenanother,thenanother.Heletsoutabloodcurdlingyellaseachbullethurtlestowardtheenemytroops.Ittakesmeasecondtomakeoutwhathe’sscreaming.

“LonglivetheElector!LonglivetheRepublic!”HemanagessixshotsbeforetheColoniessoldiersreturnfire.IhugTess

tomychest,thencoverhereyes.Sheletsoutacryofprotest.“Don’tlook,”Iwhisperinherear.Atthatverymoment,IseeThomas’sheadsnapviolentlybackandhisentirebodygolimp.Animageofmymotherflashesbeforemyeyes.

Shotthroughthehead.He’sbeenshotthroughthehead.Deathbyfiring

squad.TheblastmakesTessjump—sheuttersastrangledsobbehindmy

shieldinghands.Thedoorswingsshut.Pascaogreetsustheinstantwe’resafelythrough.He’scoveredheadto

toeindust,buthestillhasahalfgrinonhisface.“Thefinalevacuationwaveiswaitingforus,”hesays,noddingtowardtwoparkedjeepsreadytotakeusbacktothebunker.Republicsoldiershavealreadystartedtowardus,butbeforeanyofuscanfeelrelieved,InoticethatFrankiehascollapsedtothegroundandTessishoveringoverher.Pascao’shalfgrinvanishes.Assoldierssealoffthesideentrance,wegatheraroundFrankie.Tesspullsoutakitofsupplies.Frankiehasstartedtoconvulse.

Hercoat’sstrippedcompletelyoff,revealingablood-soakedshirtbeneath.Hereyesareopenwideinshock,andshe’sstrugglingtobreathe.

“Shewasshotasweweregettingaway,”TesssaysasshetearsawaytheclothofFrankie’sshirt.Sweatbeadsalongherbrow.“Threeorfourtimes.”HertremblinghandsflyacrossFrankie’sbody,scatteringpowderandpressingointmentintothewounds.Whenshe’sdone,sheyanksoutathickwadofbandages.

“She’snotgonnamakeit,”PascaomutterstoTessasshepusheshimoutofthewayandpushesfirmlydownononeofFrankie’sgushingwounds.“Wehavetomove.Now.”

Tesswipesherbrow.“Justgivemeanotherminute,”sheinsiststhroughgrittedteeth.“Wehavetocontrolthebleeding.”

Pascaostartstoprotest,butIsilencehimwithadangerouslook.“Letherdoit.”ThenIkneelbesideTess,myeyeshelplesslydrawntoFrankie’spitifulfigure.Icantellthatshe’snotgoingtomakeit.“I’lldowhateveryousay,”ImurmurtoTess.“Letushelp.”

“Keeppressureonherwounds,”Tessreplies,wavingahandatthebandagesthatarealreadymoreredthanwhite.Sherushestomakeapoultice.

Frankie’seyelidsflutter.Shechokesoutastrangledcry,thenmanagestolookupatus.“You’ve—got—togo.TheColonies—they’re—coming—”

Ittakesawholeminuteforhertodie.Tesskeepsapplyingmedsforawhilelonger,untilIfinallyputahandoverherstostopher.IlookupatPascao.OneoftheRepublicsoldiersapproachesusagainandgivesusasternfrown.“Thisisyourfinalwarning,”hesays,gesturingtowardtheopendoorsoftwojeeps.“We’reheadingout.”

“Go,”ItellPascao.“We’lltakethejeeprightbehindyou.”Pascaohesitatesforasecond,strickenatthesightofFrankie,butthen

hopstohisfeetanddisappearsintothefirstjeep.Ittearsaway,leavingacloudofdustinitswake.

“Comeon,”IurgeTess,whostayshunchedoverFrankie’slifelessbody.OntheothersideoftheArmor,thesoundsofbattlerage.“Wehavetogo.”

Tesswrenchesfreeofmygraspandflingsherrollofbandageshardatthewall.ThensheturnstolookbackatFrankie’sashenface.Istandup,forcingTesstodothesame.Mybloodyhandleavesprintsonherarm.Soldiersgrabbothofusandleadustowardtheremainingjeep.Aswefinallymakeourwayinside,Tessturnshereyesuptomine.They’rebrimmingwithtears,andthesightofheranguishbreaksmyheart.WepullawayfromtheArmorassoldiersloadFrankieontoatruck.Thenweturnacornerandspeedtowardthebunker.

Bythetimewearrive,Pascao’sjeephasalreadyunloadedandthey’veheadeddowntothetrain.Thesoldiersaretense.Astheyclearuspastthebunkerentrance’schain-linkfence,anotherexplosionfromtheArmorsendstremorsthroughtheground.Asifinadream,werushdownthemetalstaircaseandthroughthecorridorsfloodedwithdimredlights,thesoundofpoundingbootsechoingdullyfromoutside.Fartherandfartherdownwego,untilwefinallyreachthebunkerandmakeourwayontothewaitingtrain.Soldierspullusonboard.

Asthesubwayflarestolifeandwepullawayfromthebunker,aseriesofexplosionsreverberatethroughthespace,nearlyknockingusoffourfeet.Tessclingstome.AsIholdherclose,thetunnelbehinduscollapses,encasingusindarkness.Wespeedalong.Echoesoftheexplosionsringthroughtheearth.

Myheadacheflaresup.Pascaotriestosaysomethingtome,butIcannolongerhearhim.I

can’thearanything.Theworldaroundmedullsintograys,andIfeelmyselfspinning.Whereareweagain?Somewhere,Tessscreamsoutmyname—butIdon’tknowwhatshesaysafterthat,becauseIlosemyselfinanoceanofpainandcollapseintoblackness.

2100HOURS.ROOM3323,LEVELINFINITYHOTEL,ROSSCITY.

ALLOFUSHAVESETTLEDINTOOURINDIVIDUALHOTELrooms.Ollie’srestingatthefootofmybed,completelyknockedoutafteranexhaustingday.Ican’timaginefallingasleep,though.Afterawhile,Igetupquietly,leavethreetreatsforOllienearthedoor,andstepout.Iwanderthehallswithmyvirtualglassestuckedintomypocket,relievedtoseetheworldasitreallyisagainwithouttheonslaughtofhoveringnumbersandwords.Idon’tknowwhereI’mgoing,buteventuallyIenduptwofloorshigherandnotfarfromAnden’sroom.It’squieteruphere.Andenmightbetheonlyonestayingonthisfloor,alongwithafewguards.

AsIgo,Ipassadoorthatleadsintoalargechamberthatmustbesomepublic,centralroomonthisfloor.Iturnbackandpeerinside.Theplacelookswhitewashed,probablybecauseIdon’thavemyvirtualglassesonandcan’tseeallthesimulations;theroomispartitionedintoaseriesoftallcylinder-likebooths,eachoneacircleoftall,transparentslabsofglass.Interesting.Ihaveoneofthosecylinderboothsinacornerofmyhotelroom,althoughIhaven’tbotheredtryingityet.Ilookaroundthehall,thenpushgingerlyonthedoor.Itslidesopenwithoutasound.

Istepinsideandassoonasthedoorslidesshutbehindme,theroomdeclaressomethinginAntarcticanthatIcan’tunderstand.Itakemyvirtualglassesoutofmypocketandputthemon.Automatically,theroom’svoicebrightensandrepeatsherphrase,thistimeinEnglish.“Welcometothesimulationroom,JuneIparis.”Iseemyvirtualscoregoupbytenpoints,congratulatingmeforusingasimulationroomfortheveryfirsttime.JustasIsuspected,theroomnowlooksbrightandfullofcolors,andtheglasswallsofthecylindricalroomshaveallsortsofmovingdisplaysonthem.

Youraccesstotheportalawayfromhome!onepanelsays.Usein

conjunctionwithyourvirtualglassesforafullyimmersiveexperience.Behindthetextisalushvideodepictingwhatlooklikebeautifulscenesfromaroundtheworld.IwonderwhethertheirportalistheirwayofconnectingtotheInternet.Suddenly,myinterestpiques.I’veneverbrowsedtheInternetoutsideoftheRepublic,neverseentheworldforwhatitwaswithouttheRepublic’smasksandfilters.Iapproachoneoftheglasscylinderboothsandstepinside.Theglassaroundmelightsup.

“Hello,June,”itsays.“WhatcanIfindforyou?”WhatshouldIlookup?Idecidetotryoutthefirstthingthatpopsintomy

head.Ihesitantlyreply,wonderingwhetherit’lljustreadmyvoice.“DanielAltanWing,”Isay.HowmuchdoestherestoftheworldknowaboutDay?

Suddenlyeverythingaroundmevanishes.Instead,I’mstandinginawhitecirclewithhundreds—thousands—ofhoveringrectangularscreensallaroundme,eachonecoveredwithimagesandvideosandtext.AtfirstIdon’tknowwhattodo,soIjuststaywhereIam,staringinwonderattheimagesallaroundme.EachscreenhasdifferentinfoonDay.Manyofthemarenewsarticles.TheoneclosesttomeisplayinganoldvideoofDaystandingontopoftheCapitolTowerbalcony,rousingthepeopletosupportAnden.WhenIlookatitlongenough(threeseconds),avoicestartstalking.“Inthisvideo,DanielAltanWing—alsoknownasDay—giveshissupporttotheRepublic’snewElectorandpreventsanationaluprising.Source:TheRepublicofAmerica’spublicarchives.Seewholearticle?”

Myeyesflickertoanotherscreen,andthevoicefromthefirstscreenfades.ThissecondscreencomestolifeasIlookon,playingavideointerviewingsomegirlIdon’tknow,withlightbrownskinandpalehazeleyes.Shesportsascarletstreakinherhair.Shesays,“I’velivedinNairobiforthepastfiveyears,butwe’dneverheardofhimuntilvideosofhisstrikesagainsttheR-oh-Astartedpoppinguponline.NowIbelongtoaclub—”Thevideopausesthere,andthesamesoothingvoicefromearliersays,“Source:KenyaBroadcastingCorporation.Seewholevideo?”

Itakeacarefulstepforward.EachtimeImove,therectangularscreensrearrangearoundmetoshowcasethenextcircleofimagesformetoperuse.ImagesofDaypopupfromwhenheandIwerestillworkingforthePatriots—IseeoneblurryimageofDaylookingoverhisshoulder,asmirkonhislips.Itmakesmeblush,soIquicklyglanceaway.Ilookthroughtwomoreroundsofthem,thendecidetochangemysearch.ThistimeIsearchforsomethingI’vealwaysbeencuriousabout.“TheUnitedStatesofAmerica,”Isay.

ThescreenswithvideosandimagesofDayvanish,leavingmestrangelydisappointed.Anewsetofscreensflipuparoundme,andIcanalmostfeelaslightbreezeastheyshiftintoplace.ThefirstthingthatpopsupisanimagethatIinstantlyrecognizeasthefullflagthatthePatriotsbothuseandbasetheirsymbolon.Thevoiceoversays,“TheflagoftheformerUnitedStatesofAmerica.Source:Wikiversity,theFreeAcademy.UnitedStatesHistoryOne-oh-two,GradeEleven.Seefullentry?Fortextualversion,say‘Text.’”

“Seefullentry,”Isay.Thescreenzoomsintowardme,engulfingmeinitscontents.Iblink,momentarilythrownoffbytherushingimages.WhenIopenmyeyesagain,Inearlystumble.I’mhoveringintheskyoveralandscapethatlooksbothfamiliarandstrange.TheoutlineofitappearstobesomeversionofNorthAmerica,exceptthere’snolakestretchingfromLosAngelestoSanFrancisco,andtheColonies’territorylooksmuchlargerthanIremember.Cloudsfloatbybelowmyfeet.WhenIreachahesitantfootdown,Ismudgepartofthecloudsandcanactuallyfeelthecoolairwhistlingbeneathmyshoes.

Thevoiceoverbegins.“TheUnitedStatesofAmerica—alsoknownastheUSA,theUnitedStates,theUS,America,andtheStates—wasaprominentcountryinNorthAmericacomposedoffiftystatesheldtogetherasafederalconstitutionalrepublic.ItfirstdeclaredindependencefromEnglandonJuly4,1776,andbecamerecognizedonSeptember3,1783.TheUnitedStatesunofficiallysplitintotwocountriesonOctober1,2054andofficiallybecamethewesternRepublicofAmericaandtheeasternColoniesofAmericaonMarch14,2055.”

Herethevoiceoverpauses,thenshifts.“Skiptoasubtopic?Popularsubtopics:theThree-YearFlood,theFloodof2046,theRepublicofAmerica,theColoniesofAmerica.”

AseriesofbrightbluemarkersappearoverthewestandeastcoastsofNorthAmerica.Istareatthemforamoment,myheartpounding,beforeIreachoutandtrytotouchamarkernearthesoutherncoastlineoftheColonies.Tomysurprise,Icanfeelthetextureofthelandscapeundermyfinger.“TheColoniesofAmerica,”Isay.

Theworldrushesupatmewithdizzyingspeed.I’mnowstandingonwhatfeelslikesolidground,andallaroundmearethousandsofpeoplehuddledtogetherinmakeshiftsheltersinafloodedcityscape,whilehundredsarelaunchinganall-outattackagainstsoldiersdeckedoutinuniformsIdon’trecognize.Behindthesoldiersarecratesandsacksofwhatlooklikerations.

“UnliketheRepublicofAmerica,”thevoiceoverstarts,“wherethe

governmentenforcedrulethroughmartiallawinordertocrackdownontheinfluxofrefugeesintoitsborders,theColoniesofAmericaformedonMarch14,2055aftercorporationsseizedcontrolofthefederalgovernment(theformerUnitedStates,seehigherindex)followingthelatter’sfailuretohandledebtaccumulatedfromtheFloodof2046.”Itakeafewstepsforward—it’sasifI’mrighthereinthemiddleofthescene,standingjustafewdozenfeetfromwherethepeoplearerioting.Mysurroundingslookshakyandpixelated,asifrenderedfromsomeone’spersonalvideos.“Inthiscivilianrecording,thecityofAtlantastagesafifteen-dayriotagainsttheUnitedStatesFederalEmergencyManagementAgency.Similarriotsappearedinalleasterncitiesoverthecourseofthreemonths,afterwhichthecitiesdeclaredloyaltytothemilitarycorporationDesCon,whichpossessedfundsthebeleagueredgovernmentdidnot.”

Thesceneblursandclears,placingmeinthecenterofanenormouscampusfullofbuildings,eachdisplayingasymbolIrecognizeastheDesConlogo.“Alongwithtwelveothercorporations,DesConcontributeditsfundstoaidthecivilians.Byearly2058,theUnitedStatesgovernmentceasedtoexistaltogetherintheeastandwasreplacedwiththeColoniesofAmerica,formedbyacoalitionofthecountry’stopthirteencorporationsandbolsteredbytheirjointprofits.Afteraseriesofmergers,theColoniesofAmericanowconsistsoffourrulingcorporations:DesCon,Cloud,Meditech,andEvergreen.Skiptoaspecificcorporation?”

Istaysilent,watchingtherestoftheimmersivevideounfolduntilitfinallypausesonthelastframe,anunsettlingimageofadesperatecivilianshieldinghisfacefromasoldier’shoistedgun.ThenIremovemyvirtualglasses,rubmyeyes,andstepoutofthenow-blankandsterile-lookingglasscylinder.Myfootstepsechointheemptychamber.Ifeeldizzyandnumbfromthesuddenlackofmovingimages.

Howcantwocountrieswithsuchradicallydifferentphilosophieseverreunite?WhathopedowepossiblyhaveoftransformingtheRepublicandtheColoniesintowhattheyoncewere?Orperhapsthey’renotasdrasticallydifferentasIthinktheyare.Aren’ttheColonies’corporationsandtheRepublic’sgovernmentreallythesamething?Absolutepowerisabsolutepower,nomatterwhatit’scalled.Isn’tit?

Iexitthechamber,lostinthought,andasIturnthecornertoheadtomyroom,IalmostbumprightintoAnden.

“June?”heblurtsoutwhenheseesme.Hiswavyhairisslightlydisheveled,

asifhe’sbeenrakinghishandsthroughit,andhiscollarshirtiscrumpled,hissleevesrolleduptohiselbowsandthebuttonsnearhisneckundone.Hemanagestocomposehimselfenoughtooffermeasmileandabow.“Whatareyoudoinguphere?”

“Justexploring.”Ireturnhissmile.I’mtootiredtomentionallmyonlineresearch.“I’mnotsurewhatI’mdoinghere,tobehonest.”

Andenlaughssoftly.“Meeither.I’vebeenwanderingthehallsforoveranhour.”Wepauseforamoment.Thenheturnsbackinthedirectionofhissuiteandgivesmeaquestioninglook.“TheAntarcticanswon’thelpus,butthey’vebeenkindenoughtosendabottleoftheirbestwineuptomyroom.Caretohaveasip?Icouldusesomecompany—andsomeadvice.”

AdvicefromhislowliestPrinceps-Elect?Ifallintostepwithhim,alltooawareoftheclosenessbetweenus.“Howverypoliteofthem,”Ireply.

“Exceedinglypolite,”hemurmursunderhisbreathsothatIcanbarelyhearhim.“Nextthey’llbethrowingusaparade.”

Anden’ssuiteisnicer,ofcourse,thanmyown—atleasttheAntarcticansdidhimthatcourtesy.Acurvedglasswindowrunsalonghalfofthewall,givingusabreathtakingviewofRossCityengulfedinthousandsoftwinklinglights.TheAntarcticansmustbesimulatingthisnightfalltoo,consideringhowit’ssupposedtobesummerdownhere—butthesimulationseemsflawless.Ithinkbackonthedome-likefilmwepassedthroughaswedescendedintothecity.Maybeitactslikeagiantscreentoo.Streaksdancequietlyacrosstheskyinsheetsofbreathtakingcolor,turquoiseandmagentaandgold,allofthemswirlingtogetherandvanishingandreappearingagainstabackdropofstars.Icatchmybreath.Mustbeimitatingtheauroraaustralis.I’dreadaboutthesesouthernlightsduringourweeklylessons,althoughIhadn’texpectedthemtolookthisbeautiful,simulationornot.

“Niceview,”Isay.Andengrinswryly,asmallsparkofamusementshiningthroughhis

otherwisewearymood.“TheuselessadvantagesofbeingtheRepublic’sElector,”hereplies.“I’vebeenreassuredthatwecanseethroughthisglass,butthatnoonefromoutsidecanseeus.Thenagain,perhapsthey’rejustmessingwithme.”

Wesettleintosoftchairsnearthewindow.Andenpoursusbothglassesofwine.“OneoftheaccusedguardsconfessedaboutCommanderJameson,”hesaysashehandsaglasstome.“Republicsoldiersunhappywithmyrule,paidoffbytheColonies.TheColoniesistakingadvantageofCommanderJameson’s

knowledgeofourmilitary.Shemightevenstillbewithinourborders.”Isipmywinenumbly.So,itwasalltrue.IdesperatelywishIcouldgoback

intimetowhenI’dvisitedThomasinhiscell,thatIcouldhavenoticedtheunusualsetupintime.Andshecouldstillbewithinourborders.WhereisThomas?

“Restassured,”Andensayswhenheseesmyexpression,“thatwe’redoingeverythingwecantofindher.”

Everythingwecanmightnotbeenough.Notwithourattentionandsoldiersspreadoutsothin,tryingtofightawaronsomanysides.“Whatdowedonow?”

“WereturntotheRepublictomorrowmorning,”hereplies.“That’swhatwedo.Andwe’llpushtheColoniesbackwithouttheAntarcticans’help.”

“Areyoureallygoingtogiveupsomeofourlandtothem?”Iaskafterapause.

Andenswirlsthewineinhisglassbeforetakingasip.“Ihaven’tturnedthemdownyet,”hesays.Icanhearthedisgustwithhimselfinhisvoice.Hisfathermust’veseensuchamoveastheultimatebetrayalofhiscountry.

“I’msorry,”Isayquietly,unsurehowtoconsolehim.“I’msorrytoo.ThegoodnewsisI’vereceivedwordthatDayandhisbrother

havebothsuccessfullyevacuatedtoLosAngeles.”Heexhalesalongbreath.“Idon’twanttoforcehimintoanything,butImightberunningoutofoptions.He’skeepinghisword,youknow.He’dagreedtohelpusinanywayhecould,shortofgivinguphisbrother.He’stryingtohelp,inthehopesthatit’llguiltmeoutofaskingforEden.Iwishwe’dbroughthim.Iwishhecouldseethesituationfrommypointofview.”Helooksdown.

MyheartsqueezesagainatthethoughtofDaybeingkilledinaction,andsettlesinreliefatthenewsthathehassurvivedunscathed.“WhatifwepersuadetheAntarcticanstotakeDayinforhistreatment?Itmightbehisonlychanceatsurvivinghisillness,anditmightatleastmakehimconsidertheriskoflettingEdenundergoexperimentation.”

Andenshakeshishead.“Wehavenothingtobargainwith.Antarcticahasofferedasmuchhelptousasthey’rewilling.Theywon’ttroublethemselveswithtakinginoneofourpatients.”

Deepdown,Iknowthistoo.It’sjustafinal,desperateideafromme.Iunderstand,aswellashedoes,thatDaywouldneverhandoverhisbrotherinexchangeforsavinghisownlife.Myeyeswanderbacktothedisplayoflightoutside.

“Idon’tblamehim,notatall,”Andensaysafterapause.“IshouldhavestoppedthosebioweaponstheinstanttheynamedmeElector.Theverysamedaymyfatherdied.IfIweresmart,that’swhatIwould’vedone.Butit’stoolatetodwellonthatnow.Dayhaseveryrighttorefuse.”

Ifeelaswellofsympathyforhim.IfheforcefullytakesEdenintocustody,Daywillnodoubtcallthepeopletoriseupinrevolt.IfherespectsDay’sdecision,herisksnotfindingacureintimeandallowingtheColoniestotakeoverourcapital—andourcountry.IfhehandsoverapieceofourlandtoAntarctica,thepeoplemayseehimasatraitor.Andifourportsaresealed,wewon’tbereceivinganyimportsorsuppliesatall.

Andyet,Ican’tblameDayeither.Itrytoputmyselfinhisshoes.TheRepublictriestokillmeasaten-year-old;theyexperimentonmebeforeIescape.IlivethenextfewyearsintheharshestslumsofLosAngeles.IwatchtheRepublicpoisonmyfamily,killmymotherandolderbrother,andblindmyyoungerbrotherwiththeirengineeredplagues.BecauseoftheRepublic’sexperiments,I’mslowlydying.Andnow,afteralltheliesandcruelty,theRepublicapproachesme,beggingformyhelp.Beggingformetoallowthemtoexperimentonceagainonmyyoungerbrother,experimentsthatcan’tguaranteehisabsolutesafety.WhatwouldIsay?Iwouldprobablyrefuse,justashedid.It’struethatmyownfamilysufferedhorriblefatesatthehandsoftheRepublic...butDayhadbeenonthefrontlines,watchingeverythingunfoldfromthetimehewassmall.It’samiraclethatDayhadgivenhissupporttoAndeninthefirstplace.

AndenandIsipwineforfourmoreminutes,watchingthecitylightsinsilence.

“IenvyDay,youknow,”hesays,hisvoiceassoftasever.“I’mjealousthathegetstomakedecisionswithhisheart.Everychoicehemakesishonest,andthepeoplelovehimforit.Hecanaffordtousehisheart.”Hisfacedarkens.“ButtheworldoutsideoftheRepublicissomuchmorecomplicated.There’sjustnoroomforemotion,isthere?Allofourcountries’relationsareheldtogetherwithafragilewebofdiplomaticthreads,andthesethreadsarewhatpreventusfromhelpingoneanother.”

Something’sbrokeninhisvoice.“There’snoroomforemotiononthepoliticalstage,”Ireply,puttingmywineglassdown.I’mnotsureifI’mhelping,butthewordscomeoutanyway.Idon’tevenknowifIbelievethem.“Whenemotionfails,logicwillsaveyou.YoumightenvyDay,butyou’llneverbehimandhe’llneverbeyou.Heisn’ttheRepublic’sElector.He’saboyprotectinghis

brother.Youareapolitician.Youhavetomakedecisionsthatbreakyourheart,thathurtanddeceive,thatnooneelsewillunderstand.It’syourduty.”EvenasIsaythis,though,Ifeelthedoubtinthebackofmymind,theseedsthatDayhasplanted.

Withoutemotion,what’sthepointofbeinghuman?Anden’seyesareheavywithsadness.Heslouches,andforamomentIcan

seehimashereallyis,ayoungrulerstandingaloneagainstatideofoppositionandattemptingtobeartheburdenofhiscountryonhisownshoulders,withaSenatecooperatingonlyoutoffear.“Imissmyfathersometimes,”hesays.“IknowIshouldn’tadmitthat,butit’strue.Iknowtherestoftheworldseeshimasamonster.”Heputshiswineglassdownonthesidetable,thenburieshisheadinhishandsandrubshisfaceonce.

Myheartachesforhim.AtleastIcangrieveformybrotherwithoutfearofothers’hatred.Whatmustitbeliketoknowthattheparentyouoncelovedwasresponsibleforsuchevilacts?

“Don’tfeelguiltyforyourgrief,”Isaysoftly.“Hewasstillyourfather.”Hisgazecomestorestonme,andasifpulledbysomeinvisiblehand,he

leansforward.Hewaversthere,hoveringprecariouslybetweendesireandreason.Heissoclosenow,closeenoughthatifIweretomoveevenalittle,ourlipsmightbrushagainsteachother.Ifeelhisbreathfaintlyagainstmyskin,thewarmthofhisnearness,thequietgentlenessofhislove.Inthismoment,Ifeelmyselfdrawntohim.

“June...,”hewhispers.Hiseyesdanceacrossmyface.Thenhetouchesmychinwithonehand,coaxesmeforward,andkissesme.Iclosemyeyes.Ishouldstophim,butIdon’twantto.Thereissomething

electrifyingaboutthebarepassionintheyoungElectoroftheRepublic,thewayheleansintome,hisdesireexposedevenbeneathhisunfailingpoliteness.Howheopenshisheartfornoonebutme.Howinspiteofeverythingworkingagainsthim,hestillhasthestrengthtostepouteverydaywithhischinupandhisbackstraight.Howhesoldierson,forthesakeofhiscountry.Asdoweall.Iletmyselfsuccumb.Hebreaksawayfrommylipstokissmycheek.Thenthesoftlineofmyjaw,rightundermyear.Thenmyneck,justthesoftestwhisperofatouch.Ashiversweepsthroughme.Icanfeelhimholdingback,andIknowthatwhathereallywantstodoistolacehisfingersthroughmyhairanddrownhimselfinme.

Buthedoesn’t.Heknows,asmuchasIdo,thatthisisn’treal.Ihavetostop.Andwithapainedeffort,Ipullaway.Istruggletocatchmy

breath.“I’msorry,”Iwhisper.“Ican’t.”Andenlooksdown,embarrassed.Butnotsurprised.Hischeeksflushafaint

pinkinthedimlightoftheroom,andherunsahandthroughhishair.“Ishouldn’thavedonethat,”hemurmurs.Wefallsilentforafewuncomfortableseconds,untilAndensighsandleansallthewayback.Islouchalittle,bothdisappointedandrelieved.“I...knowyoucaredeeplyforDay.IknowIcan’thopetocompetewiththat.”Hegrimaces.“Thatwasinappropriateofme.Myapologies,June.”

Ihaveafleetingurgetokisshimagain,totellhimthatIdocare,andtoerasethepainandshameonhisfacethattugsatmyheart.ButIalsoknowIdon’tlovehim,andIcan’tleadhimonlikethis.IknowtherealreasonwewentsofaristhatIcouldn’tbeartoturnhimawayinhisdarkestmoment.ThatIwished,deepdown...heweresomeoneelse.Thetruthfillsmewithguilt.“Ishouldgo,”Isaysadly.

Andenmovesfartherfromme.Heseemsmorealonethanever.Still,hecomposeshimselfandbowshisheadrespectfully.Hismomentofweaknesshaspassed,andhisusualpolitenesstakesover.Asalways,hehideshispainwell.Thenhestandsupandholdsahandouttome.“I’llwalkyoubacktoyourroom.Getsomerest—we’llleaveintheearlymorning.”

Istandtoo,butIdon’ttakehishand.“It’sfine.Icanfindmyownwayback.”Iavoidmeetinghiseyes;Idon’twanttoseehoweverythingIsayonlyhurtshimmore.ThenIturntowardthedoorandleavehimbehind.

OlliegreetsmewithawaggingtailwhenIreturntomyroom.Afterapettingsession,IdecidetotryouttheInternetportalinmyroomwhilehecurlsupnearbyandfallspromptlyasleep.IrunasearchonAnden,aswellasonhisfather.Myroom’sportalisasimplifiedversionoftheportalsIusedearlier,withoutinteractivetexturesandimmersivesoundsattached,butit’sstillmilesbeyondanythingI’veseenintheRepublic.Isiftquietlythroughthesearchresults.MostarestagedphotosandpropagandavideosthatIrecognize—Andenhavinghisportraitdoneasayoungboy,theformerElectorstandinginfrontofAndenatofficialpresseventsandmeetings.Eventheinternationalcommunityseemstohavelittleinformationontherelationshipbetweenfatherandson.ButthedeeperIdig,themoreIstumbleacrossmomentsofsomethingsurprisinglygenuine.IseeavideoofAndenasafour-year-old,holdinghissalutewithasolemnyoungfacewhilehisfatherpatientlyshowshimhow.IfindaphotoofthelateElectorholdingacrying,frightenedAndeninhisarmsandwhisperingsomethingintohisear,oblivioustothecrowdthatsurroundsthem.Iseeaclipof

himangrilyshovingtheinternationalpressawayfromhissmallson,ofhimclutchingAnden’shandsotightlythathisknuckleshaveturnedwhite.IstumbleacrossarareinterviewbetweenhimandareporterfromAfrica,whoaskshimwhathecaresaboutthemostintheRepublic.

“Myson,”thelateElectoranswerswithouthesitation.Hisexpressionneversoftens,buttheedgesofhisvoiceshiftslightly.“Mysonwillalwaysbeeverythingtome,becausesomedayhewillbeeverythingtotheRepublic.”Hepausesforasecondtosmileatthereporter.Insidethatsmile,IthinkIseeglimpsesofadifferentmanwhoonceexisted.“Myson...remindsme.”

***

Wehadinitiallyplannedtoreturntothecapitalthenextmorning—butthenewscomesjustasweboardourjetinRossCity.Itcomesearlierthanwethoughtitwould.

DenverhasfallentotheColonies.

“DAY.WE’REHERE.”IopenmyeyesgroggilytothegentlesoundofTess’svoice.Shesmiles

downatme.There’spressureonmyhead,andwhenIreachuptotouchmyhair,Irealizethatbandagesarewrappedaroundmyforehead.Mycuthandisalsonowcoveredincleanwhitelinen.IttakesmeanothersecondtonoticethatI’msittinginawheelchair.

“Oh,comeon,”Iimmediatelyblurtout.“Agoddywheelchair?”Myheadfeelsfoggyandlight,thefamiliarsensationofcomingoffadoseofpainkillers.“Wherearewe?Whathappenedtome?”

“You’llprobablyneedtostopatahospitalwhenwegetoffthetrain.Theythinkallthecommotiontriggeredabadresponseinyou.”Tesswalksbesidemeassomesoldierpushesmedownthelengthofthetraincar.Upahead,IseePascaoandtheotherPatriotsgettingoffthetrain.“We’reinLosAngeles.We’rebackhome.”

“WhereareEdenandLucy?”Iask.“Doyouknow?”“They’vealreadysettledintoyourtemporaryapartmentinRuby

sector,”Tessreplies.She’squietforasecond.“Guessagemsector’syourhomenow.”

Home.Ifallsilentasweexitthetrainandstreamoutontotheplatformwiththeothersoldiers.LosAngelesfeelsaswarmasever,atypicalhazydayinlatefall,andtheyellowishlightmakesmesquint.Thewheelchairfeelssoforeignandannoying.Ihaveasuddenurgetoboltoutofitandkickitontothetracks.IamaRunner—I’mnotsupposedtobestuckinthiscrackedthing.Anotherbadresponse,thistimetriggeredbycommotion?IgritmyteethathowweakI’vebecome.Thedoctor’slastprognosishauntsme.Amonth,maybetwo.Thefrequencyofsevereheadacheshasdefinitelybeenincreasing.

Thesoldiershelpmeintoajeep.Beforeweleave,Tessreachesthroughmyopencarwindowandgivesmeaquickhug.Thesuddenwarmthfrom

herstartlesme.AllIcandoishugherback,savoringthebriefmoment.WestareateachotheruntilthejeepfinallypullsawayfromthestationandTess’sfiguredisappearsaroundabend.Eventhen,IkeepturningaroundinmyseattoseeifIcanspother.

Westopatanintersection.Aswewaitforagroupofevacueestocrossinfrontofourjeep,IstudythestreetsofdowntownLosAngeles.Somethingsappearunchanged:Linesofsoldiersbarkordersatunrulyrefugees;otherciviliansstandonthesidelinesandprotesttheinfluxofnewpeople;theJumboTronscontinuetoflashencouragingmessagesoftheRepublic’sso-calledvictoriesonthewarfront,remindingpeople:Don’tlettheColoniesconqueryourhome!Supportthecause!

MyconversationwithEdenreplaysinmymind.Iblink,thenlookcloseratthestreets.Thistime,thescenesI’dthought

werefamiliartakeonnewcontext.Thelinesofsoldiersbarkingordersareactuallyhandingoutrationstothenewrefugees.Theciviliansprotestingthenewpeopleareactuallybeingallowedtoprotest—soldierslookon,buttheirgunsstaytuckedawayattheirbelts.AndtheJumboTrons’propaganda,onceimagesthatlookedsoominoustome,nowseemlikemessagesofoptimism,abroadcastofhopeindarktimes,adesperateattempttokeeppeople’sspiritsup.Notfarfromwhereourjeep’sstopped,Iseeacrowdofchildrenevacueessurroundingayoungsoldier.He’sknelttotheireyelevel,andinhishandsissomesortofpuppettoythathe’snowusinganimatedlytotellthekidsastory.Irollmywindowdown.Hisvoiceisclearandupbeat.Nowandthen,thechildrenlaugh,theirfearandconfusionmomentarilyheldatbay.Nearby,theparentslookonwithfacesbothexhaustedandgrateful.

ThepeopleandtheRepublic...areworkingtogether.Ifrownattheunfamiliarthought.There’snoquestionthattheRepublic

hasdonesomehorriblethingstousall,thattheymightstillbedoingthosethings.But...maybeI’vealsobeenseeingthethingsIwanttosee.MaybenowthattheoldElectorisgone,theRepublic’ssoldiershavestartedtoshedtheirmaskstoo.MaybetheyreallyarefollowingAnden’slead.

ThejeeptakesmefirsttoseetheapartmentwhereEden’sstaying.Herushesouttogreetmewhenwepullup,allunhappinessfromourpreviousargumentgone.“Theysaidyoucausedabunchoftroubleoutthere,”hesaysasheandLucyjoinmeinthejeep.Adisapprovinglookcreepsontohisface.“Don’teverscaremelikethatagain.”

Igivehimawrysmileandrufflehishair.“NowyouknowhowIfeelaboutyourdecision.”

BythetimeweendupoutsidetheLosAngelesCentralHospital,wordofourarrivalhasspreadlikewildfireandahugecrowdiswaitingformyjeep.They’rescreaming,crying,chanting—andittakestwopatrolsofsoldierstoformenoughofawalkwayforthemtousherusinsidethehospital.IstarenumblyatthepeopleasIpassby.Alotofthemhavethescarletstreakintheirhair,whileothersholdupsigns.Theyshoutoutthesamething.

SAVEUS.Ilookawaynervously.They’veallseenandheardaboutwhatIdidwith

thePatriotsinDenver.ButI’mnotsomeinvinciblesuper-soldier—I’madyingboywho’sabouttobestuck,helpless,inthehospitalwhileanenemytakesoverourcountry.

Edenleansovermywheelchair’shandlebars.Eventhoughhedoesn’tsayaword,Itakeonelookathissolemnfaceandknowexactlywhat’srunningthroughhismind.Thethoughtsendsterrortricklingdownmyspine.

Icansavethem,mylittlebrother’sthinking.Letmesavethem.Oncewe’reinsidethehospitalandthesoldiersbarthedoors,theywheel

meuptothethird-floorrooms.There,Edenwaitsoutsidewhiledoctorsstrapabunchofmetalnodesandwirestome.Theyrunabrainscan.Finally,theyletmerest.Throughoutitall,myheadthrobscontinuously,sometimessomuchthatIfeellikeI’mmovingeventhoughI’mlyingdownonabed.Nursescomeinandgivemesomesortofinjection.Acoupleofhourslater,whenI’mstrongenoughtositup,apairofdoctorscometoseeme.

“Whatisit?”Iaskbeforetheycanspeakup.“DoIhavethreedaysleft?What’sthedeal?”

“Don’tworry,”oneofthem—theyounger,moreinexperiencedone—assuresme.“Youstillhaveacoupleofmonths.Yourprognosishasn’tchanged.”

“Oh,”Ireply.Well,that’sarelief.Theolderdoctorscratchesuncomfortablyathisbeard.“Youcanstill

movearoundanddonormalactivities—whateverthoseare,”hegrumbles,“butdon’tstrainyourself.Asforyourtreatments...”Hepauseshere,then

peersatmefromthetopofhisglasses.“We’regoingtotrysomemoreradicaldrugs,”thedoctorcontinueswithanawkwardexpression.“Butletmebeclear,Day—ourgreatestenemyistime.Wearefightinghardtoprepareyouforaveryriskysurgery,butthetimethatyourmedicationneedsmaybelongerthanthetimeyouhaveleft.There’sonlysomuchwecando.”

“Whatcanwedo?”Iask.Thedoctornodsatthedrippingfluidbaghangingnexttome.“Ifyou

makeitthroughthefullcourse,youmightbereadyforsurgeryafewmonthsfromnow.”

Ilowermyhead.DoIhaveafewmonthsleft?They’resureashellcuttingitclose.“So,”Imutter,“Imightbedeadbythetimethesurgerycomesaround.OrtheremightnotbeaRepublicleft.”

Mylastcommentdrainsthebloodfromthedoctor’sface.Hedoesn’trespond,buthedoesn’tneedto.Nowondertheotherdoctorshadwarnedmetogetmyaffairsinorder.Eveninthebestofcircumstances,Imightnotpullthroughintime.ButImightactuallylivelongenoughtoseetheRepublicfall.Thethoughtmakesmeshudder.

TheonlywayAntarcticawillhelpisifweprovideproofofacureagainstthisplague,givethemareasontocallintheirtroopstostoptheColonies’invasion.AndtheonlywaytodothatistoletEdengivehimselfovertotheRepublic.

***

Themedicineknocksmeout,andit’safulldaybeforeIcomearound.Whenthedoctorsaren’tthere,Itestmylegsbytakingshortwalksaroundmyroom.Ifeelstrongenoughtogowithoutawheelchair.Still,IstumblewhenItrytostretchtoothinandspringfromoneendoftheroomtotheother.Nope.Isighinfrustration,thenpullmyselfbackintobed.Myeyesshifttoascreenonthewall,wherefootagefromDenverisplaying.IcantellthattheRepubliciscarefulabouthowmuchofittheyshow.I’dseenfirsthandhowitlookedwhentheColonies’troopsstartedrollingin,butonthescreenthereareonlyfarawayshotsofthecity.TheviewercanjustseesmokerisingfromseveralbuildingsandtheominousrowofColoniesairshipshoveringneartheedgeoftheArmor.ThenitcutstofootageofRepublicjetsliningupontheairfield,preparingtolaunchintobattle.For

once,I’mgladthatthepropaganda’sinplace.There’sjustnopointinscaringthehelloutofthewholecountry.MightaswellshowthattheRepublic’sfightingback.

Ican’tstopthinkingaboutFrankie’slifelessface.OrthewayThomas’sheadsnappedbackwhentheColoniessoldiersshothim.Iwinceasitreplaysinmymind.Iwaitinsilenceforanotherhalfhour,watchingasthescreen’sfootagechangesfromtheDenverbattletoheadlinesabouthowI’dhelpedslowdowntheinvadingColoniestroops.Morepeopleareinthestreetsnow,withtheirscarletstreaksandhandmadesigns.TheyreallythinkI’mmakingadifference.Irubahandacrossmyface.Theydon’tunderstandthatI’mjustaboy—I’dnevermeanttogetinvolvedsodeeplyinanyofthis.WithoutthePatriots,June,orAnden,Icouldn’thavedoneanything.I’muselessonmyown.

Staticsuddenlyblaresoutofmyearpiece;anincomingcall.Ijump.Then,anunfamiliarmalevoiceinmyear:“Mr.Wing,”themansays.“Ipresumeit’syou?”

Iscowl.“Who’sthis?”“Mr.Wing,”themansays,addingaflourishofcrackedexcitementthat

sendsachilldownmyspine.“ThisistheChancelloroftheColonies.Pleasedtomakeyouracquaintance.”

TheChancellor?Iswallowhard.Yeah,right.“Isthissomesortofjoke?”Isnapintothemike.“Somehackerkid—”

“Comenow.Thiswouldn’tbeaveryfunnyjoke,nowwouldit?”Ididn’tknowtheColoniescouldaccessourearpiecestreamsandmake

callslikethis.Ifrown,thenlowermyvoice.“How’dyougetin?”AretheColonieswinninginDenver?Didthecityfallalready,rightafterwefinishedevacuatingit?

“Ihavemyways,”themanreplies,hisvoicedeadcalm.“Itseemsthatsomeofyourpeoplehavedefectedtoourside.Ican’tsayIblamethem.”

SomeoneintheRepublicmusthavegivenupinfototheColoniestoallowthemtouseourdatastreamslikethis.SuddenlymythoughtsrushbacktothejobI’ddonewiththePatriots,wheretheColoniessoldiershadshotThomasinthehead—theimagesendsaviolentshudderthroughme,andIforcemyselftopushitaway.CommanderJameson.

“IhopeI’mnotinconveniencingyou,”theChancellorsaysbeforeIcanrespond,“givenyourconditionandsuch.AndI’msureyoumustbefeelingabittiredafteryourlittleescapadeinDenver.I’mimpressed,Imustsay.”

Idon’trespondtothat.Iwonderwhatelseheknows—whetherheknowswhichhospitalI’mcurrentlylyingin...orworse,whereournewapartmentis,whereEden’sstaying.“Whatdoyouwant?”Ifinallywhisper.

IcanpracticallyheartheChancellor’ssmileovermyearpiece.“I’dhatetowasteyourtime,solet’sgettothemeatofthisconversation.IrealizethattheRepublic’scurrentElectoristhisyoungAndenStavropoulosfellow.”Histoneiscondescending.“Butcomenow,bothyouandIknowwhoreallyrunsyourcountry.Andthat’syou.Thepeopleloveyou,Day.WhenmytroopsfirstwentintoDenver,doyouknowwhattheytoldme?‘ThecivilianshaveplasteredpostersofDayonthewalls.Theywanttoseehimbackonthescreens.’Theyhavebeenverystubborntocooperatewithmymen,andit’sasurprisinglytiresomeprocesstogetthemtocomply.”

Myangerslowlyburns.“Leavetheciviliansoutofit,”Isaythroughaclenchedjaw.“Theydidn’taskforyoutobargeintotheirhomes.”

“Butyouforget,”theChancellorsaysinacoaxingvoice.“YourRepublichasdonetheexactsamethingtothemfordecades—didn’ttheydoittoyourownfamily?WeareinvadingtheRepublicbecauseofwhattheydidtous.Thisvirusthey’vesentacrosstheborder.Exactlywheredoyourloyaltieslie,andwhy?Anddoyourealize,myboy,howincredibleyourpositionisatyourage,howyouhaveyourfingeronthepulseofthisnation?Howmuchpoweryouhold—”

“Yourpoint,Chancellor?”“Iknowyou’redying.Ialsoknowyouhaveayoungerbrotherwhoyou

wouldlovetoseegrowup.”“YoubringEdenintothisagain,andthisconversation’sover.”“Verywell.Justbearwithme.IntheColonies,MeditechCorphandles

allofourhospitalsandtreatments,andIcanguaranteeyoutheywoulddoamuchfinerjobdealingwithyourcasethananythingtheRepubliccanoffer.Sohere’sthedeal.Youcanslowlywhittleawaywhatever’sleftofyourlife,stayingloyaltoacountrythat’snotloyaltoyou—oryoucandosomethingforus.YoucanpubliclyasktheRepublic’speopletoaccepttheColonies,andhelpthiscountryfallundertheruleofsomethingbetter.Youcangettreatmentinaqualityplace.Wouldn’tthatbenice?Surelyyoudeservemorethanwhatyou’regetting.”

Ascornfullaughforcesitswayoutofme.“Yeah,right.Youexpectmetobelievethat?”

“Wellnow,”theChancellorsays,tryingtosoundamused,butthistimeI

detectdarknessinhiswords.“Icanseethisisalosingargument.IfyouchoosetofightfortheRepublic,I’llrespectthatdecision.Ionlyhopethatthebestwillhappenforyouandyourbrother,evenafterweestablishourplacefirmlyintheRepublic.ButI’mabusinessman,Day,andIliketoworkwithaPlanBinmind.So,letmeaskyouthisinstead.”Hepausesforasecond.“ThePrinceps-ElectJuneIparis.Doyouloveher?”

Anicyclawgripsmychest.“Why?”“Well.”TheChancellorletshisvoiceturnsomber.“Youhavetoseethis

situationfrommypointofview,”hesaysgently.“TheColonieswillwin,inevitably,atthisrate.Ms.Iparisisoneofthepeoplesittingattheheartofthelosinggovernment.Now,son,Iwantyoutothinkaboutthis.Whatdoyousupposehappenstotherulinggovernmentonthelosingsideofawar?”

Myhandstremble.Thisisathoughtthathasfloatedinthedarkrecessesofmymind,somethingI’verefusedtothinkabout.Untilnow.“Areyouthreateningher?”Iwhisper.

TheChancellortsksindisapprovalatmytone.“I’monlybeingreasonable.Whatdoyouthinkwillhappentoheroncewedeclarevictory?DoyoureallythinkwewillletliveagirlwhoisontracktobecometheleaderoftheRepublic’sSenate?Thisishowallcivilizednationswork,Day,andit’sbeenthatwayforcenturies.Formillennia.Afterall,I’msureyourElectorexecutedthosewhostoodagainsthim.Didn’the?”Istaysilent.“Ms.Iparis,alongwiththeElectorandhisSenate,willbetriedandexecuted.Thatiswhathappenstoalosinggovernmentinawar,Day.”Hisvoiceturnsserious.“Ifyoudon’tcooperatewithus,thenyoumighthavetolivewiththeirbloodonyourhands.Butifyoudocooperate,Imightfindawaytopardonthemoftheirwarcrimes.Andwhat’smore,”headds,“youcanhaveallthecomfortsofaqualitylife.Youwon’tneedtoworryforyourfamily’ssafetyeveragain.Youwon’thavetoworryfortheRepublic’speopleeither.Theydon’tknowanybetter;thecommonfolkneverknowwhat’sgoodforthem.ButyouandIdo,don’twe?Youknowthey’rebetteroffwithouttheRepublic’srule.Sometimestheyjustdon’tunderstandtheirchoices—theyneedtheirdecisionsmadeforthem.Afterall,youchosetomanipulatethepeopleyourselfwhenyouwantedthemtoacceptyournewElector.AmIcorrect?”

Triedandexecuted.June,gone.Dreadingthepossibilityisonething;hearingitspelledouttomeandthenusingittoblackmailmeisanother.Mymindspinsfranticallyforwaystheycouldescapeinstead,tofindasylumin

anothercountry.MaybetheAntarcticanscankeepJuneandtheothersoverseasandprotectedincasetheColoniesoverrunthecountry.Theremustbeaway.But...whatabouttherestofus?What’stostoptheColoniesfromharmingmybrother?

“HowdoIknowyou’llkeepyourword?”Ifinallymanagetocroak.“Toshowyoumygenuinenature,IgiveyoumywordthattheColonies

haveceasedtheirattacksasofthismorning,andIwillnotresumethemforthreedays.Ifyouagreetomyproposition,youjustguaranteedthesafetyoftheRepublic’speople...andofyourlovedones.So,letthechoicebeyours.”TheChancellorlaughsalittle.“AndIrecommendthatyoukeepourconversationtoyourself.”

“I’llthinkaboutit,”Iwhisper.“Wonderful.”TheChancellor’svoicebrightens.“LikeIsaid,assoonas

possible.Afterthreedays,I’llexpecttohearbackfromyouonmakingapublicannouncementtotheRepublic.Thiscanbethestartofaveryfruitfulrelationship.Timeisoftheessence—Iknowyouunderstandthismorethananyone.”

Thenthecallends.Thesilenceisdeafening.Isitinthethickofourconversationforawhile,soakingitin.Thoughtsrunendlesslythroughmymind...Eden,June,theRepublic,theElector.Theirbloodonyourhands.Thefrustrationandfearbubblinginsidemychestthreatenstodrownmeinitstide.TheChancellor’ssmart,I’llgivehimthat—heknowsexactlywhatmyweaknessesareandhe’sgoingtotrytousethemtohisadvantage.Buttwocanplayatthis.IhavetowarnJune—andI’llhavetodoitquietly.IftheColoniesfindoutthatI’vepassedthewordalonginsteadofkeepingmymouthshutanddoingastheChancellorsays,thenwhoknowswhattrickstheymighttrytopull.Butmaybewecanusethistoouradvantage.Mymindwhirls.MaybewecanfooltheChancellorathisowngame.

Suddenly,ashriekechoesfromthehallwayoutsidethatraiseseveryhaironmyskin.Iturnmyheadinthesound’sdirection.Somebody’scomingdownthecorridoragainstherwill—whoeveritismustbeputtingupaprettydamngoodfight.

“I’mnotinfected,”thevoiceprotests.Itgrowslouderuntilit’srightoutsidemydoor,thenfadesasthesoundsofthevoiceandgurneywheelstravelfartherdownthehall.Irecognizethevoicerightaway.“Runyourtestsagain.It’snothing.I’mnotinfected.”

EventhoughIdon’tknowexactlywhat’sgoingon,I’minstantlysureof

onething—thesicknessspreadingthroughtheColonieshasanewvictim.Tess.

FORTHEFIRSTTIMEINTHEREPUBLIC’SHISTORY,THEREisnocapitaltolandin.

WetouchdownatanairfieldlocatedonthesouthernedgeofDrakeUniversityat1600hours,notaquartermileawayfromwhereIusedtoattendallofmyRepublicHistoryclasses.Theafternoonisdisconcertinglysunny.Hasitreallybeenlessthanayearsinceeverythinghappened?Aswestepofftheplaneandwaitforourluggagetounload,Ilookaroundinadullstupor.Thecampus,bothnostalgicandstrangetome,isemptierthanIremember—manyoftheseniors,Ihear,havebeenpushedthroughgraduationearlyinordertosendthemofftothewarfronttofightfortheRepublic’ssurvival.IwalkinsilencethroughthecampusstreetsafewstepsbehindAnden,whileMarianaandSerge,aspartoftheirSenatornature,keepupasteadystreamofchatterwiththeirotherwisequietElector.Olliestaysclosetomyside,thehacklesuponhisneck.ThemainDrakequad,normallycrowdedwithpassingstudents,isnowhometopocketsofrefugeesbroughtoverfromDenverandafewneighboringcities.Anunfamiliar,eeriesight.

BythetimewereachaseriesofjeepswaitingforusandbegintravelingthroughBatallasector,InoticethevariousthingsthroughoutLAthathavechanged.EvacuationcentershavepoppedupwhereBatallasectormeetsBlueridge,wherethemilitarybuildingsgivewaytocivilianhigh-rises,andmanyoftheolder,half-abandonedbuildingsalongthispoorsectorhavebeenhastilyconvertedintoevacuationcenters.LargecrowdsofdisheveledDenverrefugeescrowdtheentrances,allhopingtobeluckyenoughtogetaroomassignment.Oneglancetellsmethat,naturally,thepeoplewaitinghereareprobablyallfromDenver’spoorsectors.

“Whereareweplacingtheupper-classfamilies?”IaskAnden.“Inagemsector,I’msure?”Ifinditdifficultnowtosaysomethinglikethiswithoutasharpedgeinmyvoice.

Andenlooksunhappy,buthecalmlyanswers,“InRuby.You,Mariana,andSergewillallhaveapartmentsthere.”Hereadsmyexpression.“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking.ButIcan’taffordtohaveourwealthyfamiliesrevoltingagainstmeforforcingthemintoevacuationcentersinthepoorsectors.IdidsetanumberofspacesinRubytobeallocatedforthepoor—they’llbeassignedtothemonalotterysystem.”

Idon’tanswer,simplybecauseIhavenothingtoargueagainst.Whatistheretodoaboutthissituation?It’snotlikeAndencanuproottheentirecountry’sinfrastructureinthespanofayear.AsIlookonthroughthewindow,agrowinggroupofprotestersgathersalongtheedgeofaguardedrefugeezone.MOVETOTHEOUTSKIRTS!oneoftheirsignssays.KEEPTHEMQUARANTINED!

Thesightsendsashiverdownmyspine.Itdoesn’tseemsodifferentfromwhathadhappenedintheRepublic’searlyyears,whenthewestprotestedthepeoplefleeinginfromtheeast.

Werideinsilenceforawhile.Then,suddenly,Andenpresseshishandagainsthisearandmotionstothedriver.“Turnonthescreen,”hetellshim,gesturingtothesmallmonitorembeddedintothejeep’sseats.“GeneralMarshallsaystheColoniesarebroadcastingsomethingontoourtwelfthchannel.”

Weallwatchasthemonitorcomestolife.Atfirstweonlyseeablank,blackscreen,butthenthebroadcastcomesin,andIlookonastheColoniessloganandsealappearoveranoscillatingColoniesflag.

THECOLONIESOFAMERICACLOUD.MEDITECH.DESCON.EVERGREENAFREESTATEISACORPORATESTATEThen,aneveninglandscapeofabeautiful,sparklingcitycomesup,

completelycoveredinthousandsoftwinklingbluelights.“CitizensoftheRepublic,”agrandiosevoicesays.“WelcometotheColoniesofAmerica.Asmanyofyoualreadyknow,theColonieshaveoverruntheRepubliccapitalofDenverand,assuch,havedeclaredanunofficialvictoryoverthetyrannicalregimethathaskeptyouallunderitsthumb.Afteroverahundredyearsofsuffering,youarenowfree.”Thelandscapechangestoatop-downmapofboththeRepublicandtheColonies—exceptthistime,thelinedividingthetwonationsisgone.Ashiverrunsdownmyspine.“Intheweekstocome,youwillallbeintegratedintooursystemoffaircompetitionandfreedom.YouareacitizenoftheColonies.Whatdoesthatmean,youmightwonder?”

Thevoiceoverpauses,andtheimageryshiftstoahappyfamilyholdingacheckinfrontofthem.“Asanewcitizen,eachofyouwillbeentitledtoatleastfivethousandColoniesNotes,equivalenttosixtythousandRepublicNotes,grantedfromoneofourfourmaincorpsthatyoudecidetoworkfor.Thehigheryourcurrentincome,thehigherwe’llpayyou.YouwillnolongeranswertotheRepublic’sstreetpolicebuttoDesCon’scitypatrols,yourownprivateneighborhoodpolicededicatedtoservingyou.YouremployerwillnolongerbetheRepublic,butoneofourfourdistinguishedcorps,whereyoucanapplyforafulfillingcareer.”Thevideoshiftsagaintoscenesofhappyworkers,proud,smilingfaceshoveringoversuitsandties.“Weofferyou,citizens,thefreedomofchoice.”

Thefreedomofchoice.ImagesflashthroughmymindofwhatI’dseenintheColonieswhenDayandIfirstventuredintotheirterritory.Thecrowdsofworkers,thedilapidatedslumsofthepoor.Theadvertisementsprintedalloverthepeople’sclothes.Thecommercialsthatcoveredeverysquareinchofthebuildings.Mostofall,DesCon’spolice,thewaytheyhadrefusedtohelptherobbedwomanwhohadmissedherpaymentstotheirdepartment.IsthisthefutureoftheRepublic?AndsuddenlyIfeelnauseous,becauseIcannotsaywhetherthepeoplewouldbebetteroffintheRepublicortheColonies.

Thebroadcastcontinues.“Weonlyaskthatyoureturnasmallfavortous.”Thevideoshiftsagain,thistimetoasceneofpeopleprotestinginsolidarity.“Ifyou,asacivilian,havegrievanceswiththeRepublic,nowisthetimetovoicethem.Ifyouarecourageousenoughtostageproteststhroughoutyourrespectivecities,theColonieswillpayyouanadditionalfivethousandColoniesNotes,aswellasgrantyouaone-yeardiscountonallofourCloudCorpgrocerygoods.SimplysendyourproofofparticipationtoanyDesConheadquartersinDenver,Colorado,alongwithyournameandmailingaddress.”

So,thisexplainsthevariousprotestspoppinguparoundthecity.Eventheirpropagandasoundslikeanadvertisement.Adangerouslytemptingone.“Declaringvictoryalittletoosoon,”Isayundermybreath.

“They’retryingtoturnthepeopleagainstus,”Andenmurmursinreply.“Theyannouncedaceasefirethismorning,perhapsasachancetodisseminatepropagandalikethis.”

“Idoubtitwillbeeffective,”Isay,althoughIdon’tsoundasconfidentasIshould.Alltheseyearsofanti-ColoniespropagandaaregoingtobedifficultfortheColoniestoworkaround.Aren’tthey?

Anden’sjeepfinallyslowstoahalt.Ifrown,confusedforasecond.Instead

oftakingmebacktoahigh-riseformytemporaryapartment,wearenowparkedinfrontoftheLosAngelesCentralHospital.TheplacewhereMetiasdied.IglanceatAnden.“Whatarewedoinghere?”Iask.

“Day’shere,”Andenreplies.HisvoicecatchesalittlewhenhespeaksDay’sname.

“Why?”Andendoesn’tlookatme.Heseemsreluctanttodiscussit.“Hecollapsed

duringtheevacuationtoLA,”heexplains.“Theseriesofexplosionsweusedtoknockouttheundergroundtunnelsapparentlytriggeredoneofhissevereheadaches.Thedoctorshavestartedanotherroundoftreatmentforhim.”Andenpauses,thengivesmeagravestare.“There’sanotherreasonwe’rehere.Butyou’llseeforyourself.”

Thejeepcomestoahalt.Iclimbout,thenwaitforAnden.Afeelingofdreadslowlycreepsthroughme.WhatifDay’sillnesshasgottenworse?Whatifheisn’tgoingtopullthrough?Isthatwhyhe’shere?There’snoreasonforDaytoeversetfootinsidethisbuildingagain,notunlesshewasforcedto,notaftereverythingthishospitalputhimthrough.

Together,AndenandIheadintothebuildingwithsoldiersflankingus.Wetraveluptothefourthfloor,whereoneofthesoldiersswipesusinside,andthenstepintotheCentralHospital’slabfloor.Thetensefeelinginmystomachonlytightensaswego.

Finally,westopinfrontofasmallerseriesofroomsthatlinethesideofthemainlabfloor.Aswegothroughoneofthesedoors,IseeDay.He’sstandingoutsidearoomwithglasswalls,smokingoneofhisbluecigarettesandlookingonassomeoneinsidegetsinspectedbylabtechniciansinfullbodysuits.Whatmakesmelosemybreath,though,isthathe’sleaningheavilyonapairofcrutches.Howlonghashebeenhere?Helooksexhausted,pale,anddistant.Iwonderwhatnewdrugsthedoctorsaretryingonhim.Thethoughtisasudden,stabbingreminderofDay’swaninglife,thefewsecondshehasleft,slowlytickingby.

Standingbesidehimareafewlabtechswithwhitejumpsuitgearandgogglesdanglingfromtheirnecks,eachofthemwatchingtheroomandtypingawayontheirnotepads.Ashortdistanceaway,Pascao’sdeepinconversationwiththeotherPatriots.TheyleaveDayalone.

“Day?”Isayasweapproach.Helooksovertome—adozenemotionsflickerthroughhiseyes,somethat

makemycheeksflush.ThenhenoticesAnden.HemanagestogivetheElectora

stiffbowofhishead,thenturnsbacktowatchingthepatientontheothersideoftheglass.Tess.

“What’sgoingon?”IaskDay.Hetakesanotherpuffofhiscigaretteandlowershiseyes.“Theywon’tlet

mein.Theythinkshemight’vecomedownwithwhateverthisnewplagueis,”hesays.Hisvoiceisquiet,butIcanhearanundercurrentoffrustrationandanger.“They’vealreadyruntestsonmeandtheotherPatriots.Tessistheonlyonewhodidn’tcomeupclean.”

Tessbatsawayoneofthelabtechs’hands,thenstumblesbackwardasifshe’shavingtroublekeepingherbalance.Sweatformsonherforeheadanddripsdownherneck.Thewhitesofhereyeshaveasicklyyellowtinttothem,andwhenIlookclosely,Icantellthatshe’ssquintinginanefforttoseeeverythingaroundher—somethingthatremindsmeofhernearsightedness,thewaysheusedtosquintatthestreetsofLake.Herhandsaretrembling.Iswallowhardatthesight.ThePatriotscouldn’thavebeenexposedforlongtotheColoniessoldiers,butapparentlyitwaslongenoughforsomesoldiercarryingthevirustopassittooneofthem.It’salsoaveryrealpossibilitythattheColoniesarepurposefullyspreadingthediseaserightbacktous,nowthatthey’reinourterritory.MyinsidesturncoldasIrememberalinefromMetias’soldjournals:Onedaywe’llcreateavirusthatnoonewillbeabletostop.AndthatjustmightbringaboutthedownfalloftheentireRepublic.

Oneofthelabtechsturnstomeandoffersaquickexplanation.“Theviruslookslikeamutationofoneofourpastplagueexperiments,”shesays,shootingDayanervousglance(hemusthavegivenherahardtimeaboutthisearlier)beforecontinuing.“AsfaraswecantellfromthestatisticstheColonieshavereleased,thevirusseemstohavealowuptakerateamonghealthyadults,butwhenitdoesinfectsomeone,thediseaseprogressesrapidlyandthefatalityrateisveryhigh.We’reseeinginfection-to-deathtimesofaboutaweek.”SheturnsmomentarilytoTessontheothersideoftheglass.“She’sshowingsomeearlysymptoms—fever,dizziness,jaundice,andthesymptomthatpointsustooneofourownmanufacturedviruses,temporaryorpossiblypermanentblindness.”

Besideme,Dayclencheshiscrutchessohardthathisknuckleslookwhite.Knowinghim,Iwonderwhetherhe’salreadyhadseveralfightswiththelabtechs,tryingtoforcehiswayintoseeherorscreamatthemtoleaveheralone.IknowhemustbepicturingEdenrightnow,withhispurple,half-blindeyes,andinthismomentadeephatredfortheformerRepublicfillsmychest.Myfatherhadworkedbehindthoseexperimentallabdoors.Hehadtriedtoquitoncehe

foundoutwhattheywereactuallydoingwithallthoselocalLAplagues,andhegavehislifeasaresult.Isthatcountryreallybehindusnow?Canourreputationeverchangeintheeyesoftheoutsideworld—oroftheColonies?

“ShetriedtosaveFrankie,”Daywhispers,hiseyesstillfixedonTess.“She’dmadeitbackinsidetheArmorrightafterwedid.IthoughtThomaswasgoingtokillher.”Hisvoiceturnsbitter.“Butmaybeshe’salreadymarkedfordeath.”

“Thomas?”Iwhisper.“Thomasisdead,”hemurmurs.“WhenPascaoandIwerefleeingtothe

Armor,IsawhimstandandfacetheColoniessoldiersalone.Hekeptfiringatthemuntiltheyshothiminthehead.”Heflinchesatthisfinalsentence.

Thomasisdead.Iblinktwice,suddenlynumbfromheadtotoe.Ishouldn’tbeshocked.Why

amIshocked?Iwaspreparedforthis.Thesoldierwhohadstabbedmybrotherthroughtheheart,whohadshotDay’smother...he’sgone.Andofcoursehewouldhavediedinthisway—defendingtheRepublicuntiltheend,unwaveringinhisinsaneloyaltytoastatethathadalreadyturnedherbackonhim.IalsounderstandrightawaywhythishasaffectedDaysomuch.Shotthroughthehead.Ifeelemptyatthenews.Exhausted.Numb.Myshoulderssag.

“It’sforthebest,”Ifinallywhisperthroughthelumpinmythroat.ImagesflashthroughmyheadofMetias,andofwhatThomashadtoldmeabouthislastnightalive.IforcemythoughtsbacktoTess.Totheliving,andthosewhostillmatter.“Tessisgoingtobeokay,”Isay.Mywordssoundunconvincing.“Wejusthavetofindaway.”

ThelabtechsinsidetheglassroomstickalongneedleintoTess’srightarm,thenherleft.Sheletsoutachokedsob.Daytearshiseyesawayfromthescene,adjustshisgriponhiscrutches,andbeginstomakehiswaytowardus.Ashepassesme,hewhispers,“Tonight.”Thenheleavestherestofusbehindandheadsdownthehall.

Iwatchhimgoinsilence.Andensighs,lookssadlytowardTess,andjoinstheotherlabtechs.“AreyousureDayisclean?”hesaystotheonewho’dsharedthevirusinformationwithus.Sheconfirmsit,andAndennodsatherinapproval.“Iwantasecondcheckrunonallofoursoldiersimmediately.”HeturnstooneoftheotherSenators.“ThenIwantamessagesentrightawaytotheColonies’Chancellor,aswellastheirDesConCEO.Let’sseewhetherdiplomacycangetusanywhere.”

Finally,Andengivesmealonglook.“IknowIhavenorighttoaskthisof

you,”hesays.“ButifyoucanfinditinyourhearttoaskDayagainabouthisbrother,Iwouldbegrateful.WemightstillhaveachancewithAntarctica.”

1930HOURS.RUBYSECTOR.73°F.

Thehigh-riseI’mstayinginisjustafewblocksawayfromwhereMetiasandIusedtolive.AsthejeepI’mridinginapproachesit,Ilookdownthestreetandtrytocatchaglimpseofmyoldapartmentcomplex.EvenRubysectorisnowblockedoffwithsegmentsoftapeindicatingwhichareasareforevacuees,andsoldierslinethestreets.IwonderwhereAnden’sstayinginthemidstofallthismess;probablysomewhereinBatallasector.He’lldefinitelybeuplatetonight.BeforeI’dleftformyassignedapartment,hehadtakenmeasideinthelabhall.Hiseyesflickeredunconsciouslytomylipsandthenbackupagain.IknewhewasdwellingonthebriefmomentwesharedinRossCity,aswellasthewordsthathadcomeafterit.IknowyoucaredeeplyforDay.

“June,”hesaidafteranawkwardpause.“We’remeetingwiththeSenatetomorrowmorningtodiscusswhatournextstepsshouldbe.Iwanttogiveyoutheheads-upthatthiswillbeaconferencewhereeachofthePrinceps-Electswilldeliversomewordstothegroup.It’sachancetoexperiencewhateachofyouwoulddoifyouweretheofficialPrinceps—butbewarned,thingsmaygetheated.”Hesmiledalittle.“Thiswarhasleftusallonedge,toputitlightly.”

I’dwantedtotellhimthatIwouldsitthisoneout.AnothermeetingwiththeSenators—anotherfour-hour-longsessionoflisteningtofortytalkingheadsallbattlingtooutdooneanother,allattemptingtoeitherswayAndentotheirsideorembarrasshiminfrontoftheothers.NodoubtMarianaandSergewillleadtheargumentstoseewhichofthemcancomeacrossasthebetterPrincepscandidate.Themereideaofitdrainsmeofallmyremainingstrength.Butatthesametime,thethoughtofleavingAndentoshouldertheburdenaloneinaroomfullofpeoplewhoweresocoldanddistantwastoohardtobear.SoIsmiledandbowedtohim,likeagoodPrinceps-Elect.“I’llbethere,”Ireplied.

Nowthejeeppullsuptomyassignedcomplexandstops,andIpushthememoryoutofmymind.IgetoutofthejeepwithOllie,thenwatchitgountilitturnsacorneranddisappearscompletelyfromsight.Iheadinsidethehigh-rise.

IinitiallyplantostopbyDay’sroomrightaftersettlingintomyown,tosee

whathemeantbyhis“tonight”comment.ButasIreachmyhall,IseethatIdon’thaveto.

Dayiscampedoutsidemydoor,sittingslouchedagainstthewallandabsentlysmokingabluecigarette.Hiscrutchesarelyingidlybesidehim.Eventhoughhe’snotmoving,somesmallpieceofhismanner—wild,careless,defiant—stillshinesthrough,andforaninstantIflashbacktowhenI’dfirstmethimonthestreets,withhisbrightblueeyesandquicksilvermovementsandunrulyblondhair.ThatnostalgicimageissosweetthatIsuddenlyfeelmyeyeswatering.Itakeadeepbreathandwillmyselfnottocry.

Hepullshimselftohisfeetwhenheseesmeattheendofthehall.“June,”hesaysasIapproach.Ollietrotsovertogreethim,andhepatsmydogonceonthehead.Hestilllooksexhausted,butmanagestogivemealopsided,ifsad,grin.Withouthiscrutches,heswaysonhisfeet.Hiseyesareheavywithanguish,andIknowit’sbecauseofourearlierstintinthelab.“Fromthelookonyourface,I’mguessingtheAntarcticansweren’tmuchhelp.”

Ishakemyhead,thenunlockmydoorandinvitehiminside.“Notreally,”IreplyasIclosethedoorbehindme.Myeyesinstinctivelystudytheroom,memorizingitslayout.Itresemblesmyoldhomealittletoocloselyforcomfort.“They’vecontactedtheUnitedNationsabouttheplague.They’regoingtosealoffallofourportstotraffic.Noimportsorexports—noaid,nosupplies.We’reallunderquarantinenow.They’vetoldusthattheycanhelpusoutonlyafterweshowthemproofofacure,orifAndenhandsoverachunkofRepubliclandtothemaspayment.Untilthen,theywon’tsendanytroops.AllIknownowisthatthey’remonitoringoursituationprettyclosely.”

Daysaysnothing.Instead,hewandersawayfrommeandstandsontheroom’sbalcony.Heleansagainsttherailing.IputoutsomefoodandwaterforOllie,thenjoinhim.Thesunsetawhileago,butwiththeglowfromthecitylights,wecanseethelow-lyingcloudsthatblockthestars,coveringtheskyinshadesofgrayandblack.InoticehowheavilyDayhastoleanontherailingtosupporthimself,andI’mtemptedtoaskhimhowhe’sfeeling.Buttheexpressiononhisfacestopsme.Heprobablydoesn’twanttotalkaboutit.

“So,”hesaysafteranotherpuffonhiscigarette.ThelightfromdistantJumboTronspaintsaglowinglineofblueandpurplearoundhisface.Hiseyesskimacrossthebuildings,andIknowhe’sinstinctivelyanalyzinghowhewouldruneachoneofthem.“Guesswe’reonourownnow.Can’tsayI’mallthatupsetaboutit,though.TheRepublic’salwaysbeenaboutclosingoffherborders,yeah?Maybeshe’llfightbetterthisway.Nothingmotivatesyoulikebeingalone

andcorneredonthestreets.”Whenheliftshiscigarettetohislipsagain,Iseehishandtrembling.The

paperclipringgleamsonhisfinger.“Day,”Isaygently.Hejustraisesaneyebrowandglancesatmesideways.“You’reshaking.”

Heexhalesapuffofbluesmoke,squintsatthecitylightsinthedarkness,andthenlowershislashes.“It’sstrangebeingbackinLA,”hereplies,hisvoicedistractedanddistant.“I’mfine.JustworriedaboutTess.”Alongpausefollows.Iknowthename—Eden—thathangsatthetipsofbothofourtongues,althoughneitheroneofuswantstobringitupfirst.Dayfinallyendsoursilence,andwhenhedoes,heapproachesthetopicwithslowandlaboriouspain.“June,I’vebeenthinkingaboutwhatyourElectorwantsfromme.About,youknow...aboutmybrother.”Hesighs,thenleansfartheroutontherailingandrakesahandthroughhishair.Hisarmbrushespastmyown—eventhissmallgesturesendsmyheartbeatingfaster.“IhadanargumentwithEdenaboutitall.”

“Whatdidhesay?”Iask.Somehow,IfeelguiltywhenIthinkbackonAnden’srequestforme.IfyoucanfinditinyourhearttoaskDayagainabouthisbrother,Iwouldbegrateful.

Dayputshiscigaretteoutonthemetalrailing.Hiseyesmeetmine.“Hewantstohelp,”hemurmurs.“AfterseeingTesstoday,andafterwhatyoujusttoldme,well...”Hetightenshisjaw.“I’lltalktoAndentomorrow.Maybethere’ssomethinginEden’sbloodthatcan,youknow...makeadifferenceinallthis.Maybe.”

He’sstillreluctant,ofcourse,andIcanhearthepainplainlyinhisvoice.Butheisalsoagreeing.AgreeingtolettheRepublicusehislittlebrothertofindacure.Asmall,bittersweetsmiletugsatthecornersofmymouth.Day,thechampionofthepeople,theonewhocan’tbeartoseethosearoundhimsufferonhisbehalf,whowouldgladlygivehislifeforthoseheloves.Exceptit’snothislifethatweneedinordertosaveTess,buthisbrother’s.Riskingonelovedoneforthesakeofanotherlovedone.Iwonderwhetheranythingelsemadehimchangehismind.“Thankyou,Day,”Iwhisper.“Iknowhowhardthisis.”

Hegrimacesandshakeshishead.“No,I’mjustbeingselfish.ButIcan’thelpit.”Helooksdown,layingbarehisweaknesses.“Just...tellAndentobringhimback.Pleasebringhimback.”

There’ssomethingelsebotheringhim,somethingthat’smakinghishandsshakeuncontrollably.Ileanintohim,thenplaceoneofmyhandsoverhis.Helooksmeintheeyesagain.There’ssuchdeepsadnessandfearinhisface.Itbreaksmyheart.“Whatelseiswrong,Day?”Iwhisper.“Whatelsedoyou

know?”Thistime,hedoesn’tlookaway.Heswallows—andwhenhespeaks,there’s

aslighttremorinhisvoice.“TheColonies’ChancellorcalledmewhileIwasinthehospital.”

“TheChancellor?”Iwhisper,carefultokeepmyvoicelow.Youneverknow.“Areyousure?”

Daynodsonce.Thenhetellsmeeverything—theconversationhehadwiththeChancellor,thebribes,theblackmailandthreats.HetellsmewhattheColonieshaveinstoreforme,shouldDayrefusethem.Allmyunspokenfears.Finally,hesighs.Thereleaseofallthisinformationseemstolightentheburdenonhisshoulders,ifonlybyahair.“TheremustbeawaywecanusethisagainsttheColonies,”hesays.“Somewaytotrickthemwiththeirowngame.Idon’tknowwhatyet,butifwecanfindsomewaytomaketheChancellorthinkthatI’mgoingtohelphimout,thenmaybewecantakethembysurprise.”

IftheColoniesreallydowin,theywillcomeafterme.We’llbekilled,allofus.Itrytosoundascalmashedoes,butIdon’tsucceed.Atremorstillmanagestocreepintomyvoice.“He’llexpectyoutoreactemotionallytoallthis,”Ireply.“ItmightbeasgoodanopportunityasanytohittheColonieswithyourownbrandofpropaganda.Butwhateverwedo,wehavetobecarefulaboutit.TheChancellorshouldknowbetterthantotrustyouwholeheartedly.”

“Thingswon’tgowellforyouiftheywin,”Daywhispers,hisvoicepained.“Inevertookthemtobesomegoddycompassionatesofties—butmaybeyoushouldfindawaytofleethecountry.Sneakofftoaneutralplaceandseekasylum.”

Fleethecountry,runawayfromthisentirenightmare,andholeupinsomefarawayland?Asmall,tiny,darkvoiceinmyheadwhispersagreement,thatIwillbesaferthatway...butIrecoilfromthethought.IdrawmyselfupaswellasIcan.“No,Day,”Ireplygently.“IfIflee,whatwilleveryoneelsedo?Whataboutthosewhocan’t?”

“Theywillkillyou.”Hedrawscloser.Hiseyesbegmetolisten.“Please.”Ishakemyhead.“I’mstayingrighthere.Thepeopledon’tneedtheirmorale

crushedanyfurther.Besides,youmightneedme.”Igivealittlesmile.“IthinkIknowafewthingsabouttheRepublic’smilitarythatcouldcomeinhandy,wouldn’tyousay?”

Dayshakeshisheadinfrustration,butatthesametimeheknowsIwon’tbudge.Heknows,becausehewoulddonodifferentlyinmyposition.

Hetakesmyhandinhisandpullsmetowardhim.Hisarmswraparoundme.

I’msounusedtohistouchthatthisembracesendsanoverwhelmingwaveofheatthroughmybody.Iclosemyeyes,collapseagainsthischest,andsavorit.Hasitreallybeensolongsincethelasttimewekissed?HaveIreallymissedhimthismuch?Havealltheproblemsthreateningtocrushusbothweakenedustothepointwherewearegaspingforbreath,clingingdesperatelytoeachotherforsurvival?I’veforgottenhowrightitfeelstobeinhisarms.Hiscollarshirtisrumpledandsoftagainstmyskin,andbeneathithischestiswarmandpulseswiththefaintbeatingofhisheart.Hesmellsofearth,smoke,andwind.

“Youdrivemeinsane,June,”hemurmursagainstmyhair.“You’rethescariest,mostclever,bravestpersonIknow,andsometimesIcan’tcatchmybreathbecauseI’mtryingsohardtokeepup.Therewillneverbeanotherlikeyou.Yourealizethat,don’tyou?”Itiltmyfaceuptoseehim.HiseyesreflectthefaintlightsfromtheJumboTrons,arainbowofeveningcolors.“Billionsofpeoplewillcomeandgointhisworld,”hesayssoftly,“buttherewillneverbeanotherlikeyou.”

Myhearttwistsuntilitthreatenstobreak.Idon’tknowhowtorespond.Thenhereleasesmeabruptly—thecoolnessofthenightisasuddenshock

againstmyskin.Eveninthedarkness,Icanseetheblushonhischeeks.Hisbreathingsoundsheavierthanusual.“Whatisit?”Isay.

“I’msorry,”hereplies,hisvoicestrained.“I’mdying,June—I’mnogoodforyou.AndIdosowelluntilIseeyouinperson,andtheneverythingchangesagain.IthinkIdon’tcareaboutyouanymore,thatthingswillbeeasieronceyou’refaraway,andthenallofasuddenI’mhereagain,andyou’re...”Hepausestolookatme.Theanguishinhisexpressionisaknifecuttingthroughmyheart.“WhydoIdothistomyself?Iseeyouandfeelsuch—”Hehastearsinhiseyesnow.ThesightismorethanIcanbear.Hetakestwostepsawayfrommeandthenturnsbacklikeacagedanimal.“Doyouevenloveme?”hesuddenlyasks.Hegripsbothofmyshoulders.“I’vesaidittoyoubefore,andIstillmeanit.ButI’veneverhearditfromyou.Ican’ttell.Andthenyougivemethisring”—hepausestoholdhishandup—“andIdon’tknowwhattothinkanymore.”

Hedrawscloser,untilIfeelhislipsagainstmyear.Myentirebodytrembles.“Doyouhaveanyidea?”hesaysinasoft,broken,hoarsewhisper.“Doyouknowhow...howbadlyIwish...”

Hepullsawaylongenoughtolookmedesperatelyintheeyes.“Ifyoudon’tloveme,justsayit—youhavetohelpme.It’dprobablybeforthebest.It’dmakeiteasiertostayawayfromyou,wouldn’tit?Icanletgo.”Hesaysitlike

he’stryingtoconvincehimself.“Icanletgo,ifyoudon’tloveme.”HesaysthisasifhethinksI’mthestrongerone.ButI’mnot.Ican’tkeep

thisupanybetterthanhecan.“No,”Isaythroughgrittedteethandblurryvision.“Ican’thelpyou.BecauseIdoloveyou.”Thereitis,outintheopen.“I’minlovewithyou,”Irepeat.

There’saconflictedlookinDay’seyes,ajoyandagrief,thatmakeshimsovulnerable.Irealizethenhowlittledefensehehasagainstmywords.Helovessowholly.Itishisnature.Heblinks,thentriestofindtherightresponse.“I—”hestumbles.“I’msoafraid,June.Soafraidofwhatmighthappento—”

Iputtwofingersagainsthislipstohushhim.“Fearmakesyoustronger,”Iwhisper.BeforeIcanstopmyself,Iputmyhandsonhisfaceandpressmymouthtohis.

Whatevershredsofself-restraintDayhadnowcrumbleintopieces.Hefallsintomykisswithhelplessurgency.Ifeelhishandstouchmyface,onepalmsmoothandonestillwrappedinbandages,andthenhewrapshisarmsfranticallyaroundmywaist,pullingmesoclosethatIgaspaloud.Noonecomparestohim.Andrightnow,Iwantnothingelse.

Wemakeourwaybackinside,ourlipsneverapart.Daystumblesagainstme,thenloseshisbalance,andwecollapsebackwardintomybed.Hisbodyknocksthebreathoutofme.Hishandsrunalongmyjawandneck,downmyback,downmylegs.Itughiscoatoff.Day’slipsmoveawayfrommineandheburieshisfaceagainstmyneck.Hishairfansoutacrossmyarm,heavyandsofterthananysilkI’veeverworn.Dayfinallyfindsthebuttonsonmyshirt.I’vealreadyloosenedhis,andunderneaththefabrichisskinishottothetouch.Theheatradiatingfromhimwarmsme.Isavortheweightofhim.

Neitherofusdarestosayaword.We’reafraidthatwordswillstopus,thatthey’lltearapartthespellthatbindsus.He’stremblingasmuchasIam.Itsuddenlyoccurstomethathemustbejustasnervous.Ismilewhenhiseyesfirstmeetmineandthenlowerinabashfulgesture.Dayisshy?Whatastrangenewemotiononhisface,somethingoutofplaceandyetsofitting.I’mrelievedtoseeit,becauseIcanfeeltheblushrisinghotonmyowncheeks.Embarrassed,Ifeelanurgetocoverupmyexposedskin.I’vefrequentlyimaginedwhatthiswouldbelike,lyingwithDayforthefirsttime.I’minlovewithhim.Itentativelytestthesenewwordsagaininmymind,amazedandfrightenedbywhattheymightmean.Heishere,andheisreal,fleshandblood.

Eveninhisfeverishpassion,Dayisgentlewithme.ItisadifferentgentlenessfromwhatI’vefeltaroundAnden,whoisrefinementandproperness

andelegance.Dayiscoarse,open,uncertain,andpure.WhenIlookathim,Inoticethesubtlesmileplayingattheedgesofhismouth,thesmallesthintofmischiefthatonlystrengthensmydesireforhim.Henuzzlesmyneck;histouchsendsshiversdancingalongmyspine.Daysighsinreliefagainstmyearinawaythatmakesmyheartpound,asighoffreeinghimselffromallofthedarkemotionsthatplaguehim.Ifallintoanotherkiss,runningmyhandsthroughhishair,lettinghimknowthatI’mokay.Hegraduallyrelaxes.Isuckinmybreathashemovesagainstme;hiseyesaresobrightthatIfeellikeIcoulddrowninthem.Hekissesmycheeks,tuckingastrandofmyhaircarefullybehindmyearashegoes,andIslidemyarmsaroundhisbackandpullhimcloser.

Nomatterwhathappensinthefuture,nomatterwhereourpathstakeus,thismomentwillbeours.

Afterward,westayquiet.Dayliesbesidemewithblanketscoveringpartofhislegs,hiseyesclosedinadrowsyhalfsleep,hishandstillentwinedwithmineasifforreassurance.Ilookaroundus.Theblanketshangprecariouslyoffthecornerofthebed.Thesheetshavewrinklesthatradiateout,lookinglikeadozenlittlesunsandtheirrays.Therearedeepindentsinmypillow.Brokenglassandflowerpetalslitterthefloor.Ihadn’tevennoticedthatwe’dknockedavaseoffmydresser,hadn’theardthesoundofitshatteringagainstthecherrywoodplanks.MyeyesgobacktoDay.Hisfacelookssopeacefulnow,freeofpaininthedimglowofnight.Evennaïve.Hismouthisnolongeropen,hisbrowsnolongerscrunchedtogether.He’snottremblinganymore.Loosehairframeshisface,afewstrandscatchingthecity’slightsfromoutside.Iinchforward,runmyhandalongthemusclesofhisarm,andtouchmylipstohischeek.

Hiseyesopen;theyblinkatmesleepily.Hestaresatmeforalongmoment.Iwonderwhathesees,andwhetherallofthepainandjoyandfearhehadconfessedearlierisstillthere,foreverhauntinghim.Heleansovertogivemethegentlest,mostdelicatekiss.Hislipslinger,afraidtoleave.Idon’twanttoleaveeither.Idon’twanttothinkaboutwakingup.WhenIpullhimclosetomeagain,heobliges,achingformore.AndallIcanthinkaboutisthatI’mgratefulforhissilence,fornottellingmethatIamjoiningustogetherwhenIshouldbelettinghimgo.

IT’SNOTLIKEIHAVEN’THADMYSHAREOFMOMENTSWITHgirls.IhadmyfirstkisswhenIwastwelve,whenIlockedlipswithasixteen-year-oldgirlinexchangeforhernotrattingmeouttothestreetpolice.I’vefooledaroundwithahandfulofgirlsintheslumsectorsandafewfromwealthysectors—therewasevenonegemsector,highschoolfreshmanwhoI’dhadacoupledays’romancewithbackwhenIwasfourteen.Shewascute,withpixie-short,lightbrownhairandflawlessoliveskin,andwe’dsneakoffeveryafternoontothebasementofherschooland,well,havealittlefun.Longstory.

But...June.Myheart’sbeentornwideopen,justlikeIfeareditwouldbe,andI

havenowillpowertocloseitbackup.AnybarrierImight’vesucceededinputtinguparoundmyself,anyresistanceImight’vebuiltupagainstmyfeelingsforher,isnowcompletelygone.Shattered.Inthedimbluelightofnight,IreachoutandrunonehandalongthecurveofJune’sbody.Mybreathingisstillshallow.Idon’twanttobethefirsttosaysomething.Mychestispressedgentlyagainstherbackandmyarm’srestingcomfortablyaroundherwaist;herhairdrapesoverherneckinadark,glossyrope.Iburymyfaceagainsthersmoothskin.Amillionthoughtspourthroughmyhead,butlikeher,Istaysilent.

There’ssimplynothingtosay.

***

Ijoltawakeinbed,gasping.Icanbarelybreathe—mylungsheaveinanattempttosuckinair.Ilookaroundfrantically.WhereamI?

I’minJune’sbed.Itwasanightmare,justanightmare,andtheLakesectoralleyand

streetandbloodaregone.Iliethereamoment,tryingquietlytocatchmy

breathandslowthepoundingofmyheart.I’mcompletelydrenchedinsweat.IglanceoveratJune.She’slyingonhersideandfacingme,herbodystillrisingandfallinginagentle,steadyrhythm.Good.Ididn’twakeher.Ihurriedlywipetearsfrommyfacewiththepalmofmyuninjuredhand.ThenIliethereforafewminutes,stilltrembling.Whenit’sobviousthatI’mnotgoingtobeabletofallbackasleep,Islowlysitupinbedandcrouchwithmyarmsagainstmyknees.Ibowmyhead.Mylashesbrushagainsttheskinofmyarm.Ifeelsoweak,likeIjustfinishedclimbingupathirty-storybuilding.

ThiswaseasilytheworstnightmareI’vehadyet.I’meventerrifiedtoblinkfortoolong,incaseIhavetorevisittheimagesthatdancedundermyeyelids.Ilookaroundtheroom.Myvisionblursagain;Iangrilywipethefreshtearsaway.Whattimeisit?It’sstillpitch-blackoutside,withonlythefaintglowfromdistantJumboTronsandstreetlightsfilteringintotheroom.IglancetowardJune,watchinghowthedimlightsfromoutsidesplashcoloracrosshersilhouette.Thistime,Idon’treachoutandtouchher.

Idon’tknowhowlongIsittherecrouchedlikethat,takinginonedeeplungfulofairafteranotheruntilmybreathingfinallysteadies.It’slongenoughforthesweatbeadingmyentirebodytodry.Myeyeswandertotheroom’sbalcony.Istareatitforawhile,unabletolookaway,andthenIgingerlyslideoutofbedwithoutasoundandslipintomyshirt,trousers,andboots.Itwistmyhairupintoatightknot,thenfitacapsnuglyoverit.Junestirsalittle.Istopmoving.Whenshesettlesbackdown,Ifinishbuttoningmyshirtandwalkovertotheglassbalconydoors.Inthecornerofthebedroom,June’sdoggivesmeacurioustiltofhishead.Buthedoesn’tmakeasound.Isayasilentthanksinmyhead,thenopenthebalconydoors.Theyswingopen,thenclosebehindmewithoutaclick.

Ipullmyselflaboriouslyontothebalconyrailings,perchtherelikeacat,andsurveymysurroundings.Rubysector,agemsectorthat’ssocompletelydifferentfromwhereIcamefrom.I’mbackinLA,butIdon’trecognizeit.Clean,manicuredstreets,newandshinyJumboTrons,widesidewalkswithoutcracksandpotholes,withoutstreetpolicedraggingcryingorphansawayfrommarketstands.Instinctively,myattentionturnsinthedirectionofthecitythatLakesectorwouldbe.Fromthissideofthebuilding,Ican’tseedowntownLA,butIcanfeelitthere,thememoriesthatwokemeupandwhisperedformetocomeback.Thepaperclipringsitsheavilyonmyfinger.Adark,terriblemoodlingersatthebackofmymindafterthat

nightmare,somethingIcan’tseemtoshake.Ihopoverthesideofthebalconyandworkmywaydowntoalowerledge.Imakemywaysilently,floorbyfloor,untilmybootshitthepavementandIblendintotheshadowsofthenight.Mybreathscomeraggedly.

Evenhereinagemsector,therearenowcitypatrolsguardingthestreets,theirgunsdrawnasifreadyforasurpriseColonies’attackatanymoment.Isteerclearofthemtoavoidanyquestions,andgobacktomyoldstreethabits,makingmywaythroughbackalleymazesandshadedsidesofbuildingsuntilIreachatrainstationwherejeepsarelinedup,waitingtogiverides.Iignorethejeeps—I’mnotinthemoodtogetchattywithoneofthedriversandthenhavethemrecognizemeasDay,andthenhearrumorsspreadingaroundtownthenextmorningaboutwhateverthehelltheythinkIwasupto.Instead,IheadintothetrainstationandwaitforthenextautomatedridetocomeandtakemetoUnionStationindowntown.

Halfanhourlater,IstepoutofthedowntownstationandmakemywaysilentlythroughthestreetsuntilI’mclosetomymother’soldhome.Thecracksinalltheslumsectorroadsaregoodforonething—hereandthereIseepatchesofseadaisiesgrowinghaphazardly,littlespotsofturquoiseandgreenonanotherwisegraystreet.Oninstinct,Ibenddownandpickahandfulofthem.Mom’sfavorite.

“Youthere.Hey,boy.”Iturntoseewho’scalling.Itactuallytakesmeafewsecondstofindher,

becauseshe’ssosmall.Anoldwoman’shunchedagainstthesideofaboarded-upbuilding,shiveringinthenightair.She’sbentalmostdouble,withafacecompletelycoveredindeepwrinkles,andherclothesaresotatteredthatIcan’ttellwhereanyofitendsorbegins—it’sjustonebigmopofrags.Shehasacrackedmugsittingatherdirtybarefeet,butwhatreallymakesmestopisthatherhandsarewrappedinthickbandages.JustlikeMom’s.Whensheseesthatmyattentionisonher,hereyeslightupwithafaintglintofhope.I’mnotsureifsherecognizesme,butI’malsonotsurehowwellshecansee.“Anysparechange,littleboy?”shecroaks.

Idigaroundnumblyinmypockets,thenpulloutasmallwadofcash.EighthundredRepublicNotes.Nottoolongago,Iwould’veputmylifeindangertogetmyhandsonthismuchmoney.Ibenddownnexttotheoldwoman,thenpressthebillsintohershakingpalmandsqueezeherbandagedhandswithmyown.

“Keepithidden.Don’ttellanyone.”Whenshejustcontinuestostareat

mewithshockedeyesandanagapemouth,Istandupandstartwalkingbackdownthestreet.Ithinkshecallsout,butIdon’tbotherturningaround.Don’twanttoseethosebandagedhandsagain.

Minuteslater,IreachtheintersectionofWatsonandFigueroa.Myoldhome.

Thestreethasn’tchangedmuchfromhowIrememberit,butthistimemymother’shomeisboardedupandabandoned,likemanyoftheotherbuildingsintheslumsectors.Iwonderiftherearesquattersinthere,allholedupinouroldbedroomorsleepingonthekitchenfloor.Nolightshinesfromthehouse.Iwalkslowlytowardit,wonderingifI’mstilllostinmynightmare.MaybeIhaven’twokenupatall.Nomorequarantinetapeblocksthestreetoff,nomoreplaguepatrolshangaroundoutsidethehouse.AsIwalktowardit,Inoticeanoldbloodstainstillvisible,ifonlybarely,onthebrokenconcreteleadingtowardthehouse.Itlooksbrownandfadednow,sodifferentfromhowIrememberit.Istareatthebloodstain,numbandunfeeling,thensteparounditandcontinueon.MyhandclingstightlytothethickbundleofseadaisiesIbrought.

WhenIapproachthefrontdoor,IseethefamiliarredXisstillthere,althoughnowit’sfadedandchipped,andseveralplanksofrottingwoodarenailedacrossthedoorframe.Istandthereforawhile,runningafingeralongthedyingpaintstreaks.Afewminuteslater,Isnapoutofmydazeandwanderaroundtothebackofthehouse.Halfofourfencehasnowcollapsed,leavingthetinyyardexposedandvisibletoourneighbors.Thebackdooralsohasplanksofwoodnailedacrossit,butthey’resorottenandcrumblingthatallIhavetodoisputalittleweightonthemandtheycomeapartinadullcrackleofsplinters.

Iforcethedooropenandstepinside.IremovemycapasIgo,lettingmyhairtumbledownmyback.Momhadalwaystoldustotakeourhatsoffwhileinthehouse.

Myeyesadjusttothedarkness.Istepquietlyupafewstepsandenterthebackofourtinylivingroom.Theymayhaveboardedupthehouseaspartofsomestandardprotocol,butthefurnitureinsidethehouseisuntouched,differentonlyinthatit’sallcoveredinalayerofdust.Myfamily’sfewbelongingsarestillhere,inexactlythesameconditionasI’dlastseenthem.TheoldElector’sportraithangsontheroom’sfarwall,prominentandcentered,andourlittlewoodendiningtablestillhasthicklayersofcardboardtackedtooneofitslegs,stilldoingtheirjobofholding

thetableup.Oneofthechairsislyingontheground,asifsomeonehadtogetupinahurry.ThathadbeenJohn,Inowremember.Irecallhowwe’dallheadedintothebedroomtograbEden,tryingtogetourlittlebrotheroutbeforetheplaguepatrolscameforhim.

Thebedroom.Iturnmybootsinthedirectionofournarrowbedroomdoor.Itonlytakesafewstepstoreachit.Yeah,everythinginhereisexactlythesametoo,maybewithafewextracobwebs.TheplantthatEdenhadoncebroughthomeisstillsittinginthecorner,althoughnowit’sdead,itsleavesandvinesblackandshriveled.Istandthereforamoment,staringatit,andthenheadbackintothelivingroom.Iwalkoncearoundthediningtable.Finally,Isitinmyoldchair.Itcreakslikeitalwaysdid.

Ilaythebundleofseadaisiescarefullyonthetabletop.Ourlanternsitsinthemiddleofthetable,unlitandunused.Usually,theroutinewentlikethis:Momwouldcomehomearoundsixo’clockeveryday,afewhoursafterI’dgottenbackfromgradeschool,andJohnwouldgethomearoundnineorten.MomwouldtrytoholdoffonlightingthetablelanterneachnightuntilJohnreturned,andafterawhileEdenandIgotusedtolookingforwardto“thelanternlighting,”whichalwaysmeantJohnhadjustwalkedthroughthedoor.Andthatmeantwe’dgettositdowntodinner.

Idon’tknowwhyIsithereandfeelthefamiliaroldexpectationthatMomisgoingtocomeoutfromthekitchenandlightthelantern.Idon’tknowhowIcanfeelajoltofjoyinmychest,thinkingJohnishome,thatdinner’sserved.Stupidoldhabits.Still,myeyesgoexpectantlytothefrontdoor.Myhopesrise.

Butthelanternstaysunlit.Johnstaysoutside.Momisn’thome.Ileanmyarmsheavilyagainstthetableandpressmypalmstomyeyes.

“Helpme,”Iwhisperdesperatelytotheemptyroom.“Ican’tdothis.”Iwantto,Iloveher,butIcan’tbearit.It’sbeenalmostayear.What’swrongwithme?Whycan’tIjustmoveon?

Mythroatchokesup.Thetearscomeinarush.Idon’tbothertostopthem,becauseIknowit’simpossible.Isobuncontrollably—Ican’tstop,Ican’tcatchmybreath,Ican’tsee.Ican’tseemyfamilybecausethey’renothere.Withoutthem,allthisfurnitureisnothing,theseadaisieslyingonthetablearemeaningless,thelanternisjustanold,blackenedpieceofjunk.Theimagesfrommynightmarelinger,hauntingme.NomatterhowhardItry,Ican’tpushthemaway.

Timehealsallwounds.Butnotthisone.Notyet.

IDON’TSTIR,BUTTHROUGHMYHALF-LIDDED,SLEEPYeyes,IseeDaysitupinbedbesidemeandburyhisfaceinhisarms.He’sbreathingheavily.Sevenminuteslaterhegetsupquietly,castsonelastglanceinmydirection,anddisappearsoutthebalconydoors.He’sassilentasever,andifhimwakingupfromhisnightmarehadn’trousedme,hewouldeasilyhaveleftmyroomwithoutmyeverknowing.

ButIdoknow,andthistimeIriserightafterheleaves.Ithrowonsomeclothes,pullonmyboots,andheadoutafterhim.Thecoolairwashesovermyface,andmoonlightdrenchesthewholenightindarksilver.

Eveninhisdeterioratingcondition,he’sstillfastwhenhewantstobe.BythetimeIcatchupwithhimatUnionStationandfollowhimthroughthestreetsofdowntown,myheartispoundingsteadilyinthewayitdoesafterathoroughworkout.Bynow,Ialreadyknowwherehe’sgoing.He’sreturningtohisfamily’soldhome.IlookonashefinallyreachestheintersectionofWatsonandFigueroa,turnsthecorner,andheadsinsideatiny,boarded-uphousewithafadedXstillpaintedonitsdoor.

Justbeingbackheremakesmedizzywiththememory.Ican’timaginehowmuchworseitmustbeforDay.GingerlyImakemywayovertotheboardedwindows,thenlistenintentlyforhim.Hegoesinthroughthebackdoor—Ihearhimshufflingaroundinside,hisfootstepssubduedandmuffled,andthenstopinthelivingroom.IgofromwindowtowindowuntilIfinallyfindonethatstillhasacrackbetweentwoofitswoodenplanks.AtfirstIcan’tseehim.ButeventuallyIdo.

Dayissittingatthelivingroomtablewithhisheadinhishands.Eventhoughit’stoodarkinsideformetomakeouthisfeatures,Icanhearhimcrying.Hissilhouettetrembleswithgrief,andhisanguishisetchedintoeverysinglecrumpled,devastatedmuscleofhisbody.Thesoundissoforeignthatittearsatmyheart;I’veseenDaycry,butI’mnotusedtoit.Idon’tknowwhetherIever

willbe.WhenIreachuptomyface,Irealizethattearsarerunningdownmycheekstoo.

Ididthistohim...andbecausehelovesme,hecanneverreallyescapeit.He’llrememberthefateofhisfamilyeverytimeheseesme,evenifhelovesme,especiallyifhelovesme.

IFINALLYRETURN,BLEARY-EYEDANDEXHAUSTED,TOJUNE’Sbedroomjustbeforedawn.She’sstillthere,apparentlyundisturbed.Idon’ttrytocrawlbackintobedbesideher;instead,Icollapseontohercouchandfallintoadeep,dreamlesssleepuntilthelightstrengthensoutside.

June’stheonewhoshakesmeawake.“Hey,”shewhispers.Tomysurprise,shedoesn’tcommentonhowredorpuffymyeyesmustlook.Shedoesn’tevenseemshockedtowakeupandfindmeloungingonhercouchinsteadofinherbed.Herowneyeslookheavy.“I’ve...informedAndenaboutwhatyoudecided.HesaysalabteamwillbereadytopickyouandEdenupintwohours,atyourapartment.”Shesoundsgrateful,weary,andhesitant.

“I’llbethere,”Imutter.Ican’thelpstaringvacantlyoffintospaceforafewseconds—nothingseemsrealrightnow,andIfeellikeI’mswimminginaseaoffogwhereemotionsandimagesandthoughtsarealloutoffocus.Iforcemyselfoffthecouchandintothebathroom.There,Iunbuttonmyshirtandsplashwateronmyfaceandchestandarms.I’mafraidtolookinthemirrorthistime.Idon’twanttoseeJohnstaringbackatme,withmyownblindfoldtightaroundhiseyes.Myhandsareshakingsobadly;thegashonmyleftpalmisopenagainandbleeding,probablyfromthefactthatIkeepclenchingthathandinstinctively.HadJuneseenmeleave?IshudderasIrelivethememoryofherstandingthereoutsidemymother’shome,waitingattheheadofasquadronofsoldiers.ThenIrevisittheChancellor’swordstome,theprecarioussituationthatJuneisin...thatTessisin,thatEdenisin—thatwe’reallin.

Isplashwaterrepeatedlyonmyface,andwhenthatdoesn’thelp,Ijumpintheshoweranddrownmyselfwithscaldinghotwater.Butitdoesn’tnumbtheimages.

BythetimeIfinallyemergefromthebathroom,myhairstillwetandmyshirthalfbuttoned,I’msicklypaleandtrembling.Junewatchesme

quietlyasshesitsontheedgeofherbed,sippingapalepurpletea.EventhoughIknowit’spointlesstotryhidinganythingfromher,Istillgiveitashot.“I’mready,”IsaywithasgenuineofasmileasIcanmuster.Shedoesn’tdeservetoseethissortofpainonmyface,andIdon’twanthertothinkthatshe’stheonecausingit.She’snottheonecausingit,Iangrilyremindmyself.

ButJunedoesn’tcommentonit.Shestudiesmewiththosedeepdarkeyes.“IjustgotacallfromAnden,”shesays,runningahanduncomfortablythroughherhair.“TheyhavesomenewevidencethatCommanderJameson’stheoneresponsibleforpassingalongsomemilitarysecretstotheColonies.Itsoundslikeshe’sworkingforthemnow.”

Underneathmytidalwaveofemotions,adeephatredwellsup.Ifitweren’tforCommanderJameson,maybeeverythingwouldhavebeenbetterbetweenJuneandme—andmaybeourfamilieswouldstillbealive.Idon’tknow.We’llneverknow.Andnowshe’sworkingfortheenemywhenshe’ssupposedtobedead.Imutteracurseundermybreath.“Isthereanywaytoknowexactlywheresheis?IssheactuallyintheRepublic?”

“Nooneknows.”Juneshakesherhead.“Andensaysthey’retryingtoseeifanythingonhercanbetracked,butshemusthavelongchangedoutofherprisonclothing,andherboots’trackingchipsmustbegonebynow.She’llhavemadesureofthat.”WhenJuneseesthefrustrationonmyface,shegrimacesinsympathy.Bothofus,brokenbythesameperson.“Iknow.”Sheputsherteadownandsqueezesmyuninjuredhand.

Violentflashbacksflickerthroughmymemoryathertouch—IwincebeforeIcanstopmyself.Shefreezes.Forasecond,Iseethedeephurtinherexpression.Iquicklycoverupmymistakebykissingher,tryingtolosemyselfinthegestureasIdidlastnight.

ButI’veneverbeenthebestliar,atleastnotaroundher.Shetakesastepawayfromme.“Sorry,”shewhispers.

“It’sokay,”Isayinarush,irritatedwithmyselfatdraggingouroldwoundsbacktothesurface.“It’snot—”

“Yes,itis.”Juneforcesherselftofaceme.“Isawwhereyouwentlastnight—Isawyouinthere....”Hervoicefadesawayasshelooksdowninguilt.“I’msorryIfollowedyou,butIhadtoknow.IhadtoseethatIwastheonecausingallofthegriefinyoureyes.”

Iwanttoreassureherthatit’snotallbecauseofher,thatIlovehersodesperatelythatI’mterrifiedofthefeeling.ButIcan’t.Juneseesthe

hesitationonmyfaceandknowsit’saconfirmationofherfear.Shebitesherlip.“It’smyfault,”shesays,asifit’sjustsimplelogic.“AndI’mnotsureIwilleverbeabletoearnyourforgiveness.Ishouldn’t.”

“Idon’tknowwhattodo.”Myhandsdangleatmysides,helpless.Terribleimagesfromourpastflashthroughmymindagain—mybestattemptscan’tstopthem.“Idon’tknowhowtodoit.”

June’seyesareglossywithtears,butshemanagestoholdthemin.Canonemistakereallydestroyalifetimetogether?“Idon’tthinkthere’saway,”shefinallysays.

Itakeasteptowardher.“Hey,”Iwhisperinherear.“We’llbeokay.”I’mnotsureifit’strue,butitseemslikethebestthingtosay.

Junesmiles,playingalong,buthereyesmirrormyowndoubt.

***

TheseconddayoftheColonies’promisedceasefire.ThelastplaceIwanttoreturntoisthelabflooroftheLosAngeles

CentralHospital.It’shardenoughbeingthereandseeingTesscontainedbehindglasswalls,withchemicalsbeinginjectedintoherbloodstream.NowI’llbebacktherewithEdenatmyside,andI’llhavetodealwithseeingthesamethinghappentohim.Aswegetreadytoheaddowntothejeepwaitinginfrontofourtemporaryapartment,IkneelinfrontofEdenandstraightenhisglasses.Hestaressolemnlyback.

“Youdon’thavetodothis,”Isayagain.“Iknow,”Edenreplies.HebrushesmyhandimpatientlyawaywhenI

wipelintoffhisjacket’sshoulders.“I’llbefine.Theysaiditwouldn’ttakeallday,anyway.”

Andencouldn’tguaranteehissafety;hecouldonlypromisethattheywouldtakeeveryprecaution.AndcomingfromthemouthoftheRepublic—evenamouththatI’vecometogrudginglytrust—thatlittlecrackedbitofreassurancemeansalmostnothing.Isigh.“Ifyouchangeyourmindatanypoint,youletmeknow,yeah?”

“Don’tworry,Daniel,”hesays,shruggingoffthewholething.“I’llbefine.Itdoesn’tseemthatscary.Atleastyougettobethere.”

“Yeah.AtleastIgettobethere,”Iechonumbly.Lucyfussesoverhismessyblondcurls.Moreremindersofhome,andofMom.Ishutmyeyesandtrytoclearmythoughts.ThenIreachoutandtapEdenonthenose.

“Thesoonertheystart,”Isaytohim,“thesooneritcanallbeover.”Minuteslater,amilitaryjeeppicksmeupwhileamedictruck

transportsEdenseparatelytotheLosAngelesCentralHospital.Hecandothis,IrepeattomyselfasIreachthefourth-floorlaboratory.

I’mescortedbytechnicianstoachamberwiththickglasswindows.Andifhecan,thenIcanlivethroughit.Butstill,myhandsaresweaty.Iclenchthemagaininanattempttostoptheirendlesstrembling,andastabofpainrunsthroughmyinjuredpalm.Eden’sinsidethisglasschamber.HispaleblondcurlsaremessyandruffledinspiteofLucy’sefforts,andhe’snowwearingathinredpatientscrub.Hisfeetarebare.Apairoflabtechnicianshelphimupontoalong,whitebed,andoneofthemrollsupEden’ssleevestotakehisbloodpressure.Edenwinceswhenthecoolrubbertoucheshisarm.

“Relax,kid,”thelabtechsays,hisvoicemuffledbytheglass.“Justtakeadeepbreath.”

Edenmurmursafaint“okay”inresponse.Helookssosmallnexttothem.Hisfeetdon’teventouchthefloor.Theyswingidlywhilehestaresofftowardthewindowseparatingus,searchingforme.Iclenchandunclenchmyhands,thenpressthemagainstthewindow.

ThefateoftheentireRepublicrestsontheshouldersofmykidbrother.IfMom,John,orDadwerehere,they’dprobablylaughathowridiculousthiswholethingis.

“He’sgoingtobeokay,”thelabtechstandingnexttomemuttersinreassurance.Hedoesn’tsoundveryconvincing.“Today’sproceduresshouldn’tcausehimanypain.We’rejustgoingtotakesomebloodsamplesandthengivehimafewmedications.We’vesentsomesamplestoAntarctica’slabteamsforanalysistoo.”

“Isthatsupposedtomakemefeelbetter?”Isnapathim.“Today’sproceduresshouldn’tcausehimanypain?Whatabouttomorrow’s?”

Thelabtechholdshishandsupdefensively.“I’msorry,”hestammers.“Itcameoutwrong—Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.Yourbrotherwon’tbeinanypain,Ipromise.Somediscomfort,perhaps,fromthemedicine,butwe’retakingeveryprecautionwecan.I,er,Ihopeyouwon’treportthisnegativelytoourgloriousElector.”

So,that’swhathe’sworriedabout.ThatifI’mupset,I’mgoingtoruntoAndenandwhine.Inarrowmyeyesathim.“Ifyoudon’tgivemeareasontoreportanythingbad,thenIwon’t.”

Thelabtechapologizesagain,butI’mnotpayingattentiontohimanymore.MyeyesgobacktoEden.He’saskingoneofthetechnicianssomething,althoughhe’sspeakingquietlyenoughthatIcan’thear.Thelabtechshakeshisheadatmybrother.Edenswallows,looksbacknervouslyinmydirection,andthensqueezeshiseyesshut.Oneofthelabtechstakesoutasyringe,thencarefullyinjectsitintotheveinofEden’sarm.Edenclencheshisjawtight,buthedoesn’tutterasound.Afamiliardullpainthrobsatthebaseofmyneck.Itrytocalmmyselfdown.StressingmyselfoutandtriggeringoneofmyheadachesatatimelikethisisnotgoingtohelpEden.

Hechosetodothis,Iremindmyself.Iswellwithsuddenpride.WhenhadEdengrownup?IfeellikeIblinkedandmissedit.

Thelabtechfinallyremovesthesyringe,whichisnowfilledwithblood.TheydabsomethingonEden’sarm,thenbandageit.ThesecondtechnicianthendropsahandfulofpillsintoEden’sopenpalm.

“Swallowthemtogether,”hetellsmybrother.Edendoesashesays.“They’reabitbitter—besttogetitalloverwithatonce.”

Edengrimacesandgagsalittle,butmanagestowashthepillsdownwithsomewater.Thenheliesdownonthebed.Thetechnicianswheelhimovertoacylindricalmachine.Ican’trememberwhatthemachine’scalled,eventhoughtheytoldmelessthananhourago.Theyslowlyrollhiminsideit,untilallIcanseeofEdenaretheballsofhisbarefeet.Islowlypeelmyhandsoffthewindow.Myskinleavesprintsontheglass.Aminutelater,myhearttwistsinmychestasIhearEdencryingfrominsidethemachine.Somethingaboutitmustbepainful.IclenchmyteethsohardthatIthinkmyjawmightbreak.

Finally,afterwhatseemslikeaneternity,oneofthelabtechsmotionsformetocomeinside.IimmediatelyshovepastthemandentertheglasschambertoleanoverEden’sside.He’ssittingontheedgeofthewhitebedagain.Whenhehearsmeapproach,hebreaksintoasmile.

“Thatwasn’tsobad,”hesaystomeinaweakvoice.Ijusttakehishandandsqueezeitinmyown.“Youdidgood,”Ireply.

“I’mproudofyou.”AndIam.I’mprouderofhimthanI’veeverbeenofmyself—I’mproudofhimforstandinguptome.

OneofthelabtechsshowsmeascreenwithwhatlookslikeamagnifiedviewofEden’sbloodcells.“Agoodstart,”hetellsus.“We’llworkwiththisandtryinjectingTesswithacuretonight.Ifwe’relucky,she’llhanginthereforanotherfiveorsixdaysandgiveussometimetoworkwith.”The

tech’seyesaregrim,eventhoughhiswordsareprettyhopeful.Theweirdcombinationmakesachillrundownmyspine.IgripEden’shandtighter.

“Wedon’thavealotoftimeleft,”Edenwhisperstomewhenthelabtechsleaveustotalkinpeace.“Iftheycan’tfindacure,whatarewegoingtodo?”

“Idon’tknow,”Iadmit.It’snotsomethingIreallywanttothinkabout,becauseitleavesmefeelingmorehelplessthanIlike.Ifwedon’tfindacure,therewon’tbeanyinternationalmilitaryaid.Ifthere’snoaid,thenwe’llhavenowaytowinagainsttheColonies.AndiftheColoniesoverrunus...IrecallwhatIsawwhenIwasoverthere,andrememberwhattheChancellorhadofferedme.Ifyouchoose,wecanworktogether.Thepeopledon’tknowwhat’sbestforthem.Sometimesyoujusthavetohelpthemalong.Isn’tthatright?

Ineedtofindawaytostallthemwhileweworkonacure.AnythingtoslowtheColoniesdown,togivetheAntarcticansachancetocometoouraid.“We’lljusthavetofightback,”ItellEden,rufflinghishair.“Untilwecan’tfightbackanymore.That’sthewayitalwaysseemstobe,yeah?”

“Whycan’ttheRepublicwin?”Edenasks.“Ialwaysthoughttheirmilitarywasthestrongestintheworld.ThisisthefirsttimeIactuallywishtheywereright.”

IsmilesadlyatEden’snaïveté.“TheColonieshaveallies,”Ireply.“Wedon’t.”HowthehelldoIexplainitall?HowdoItellhimexactlyhowhelplessIfeel,standingbylikeabrokenpuppetwhileAndenleadshisarmyinabattletheyjustcan’twin?“Theyhaveabetterarmy,andwejustdon’thaveenoughsoldierstogoaround.”

Edensighs.Hislittleshouldersslumpinawaythatchokesmeup.Iclosemyeyesandforcemyselftocalmdown.CryinginfrontofEdenatatimelikethisiswaytooembarrassing.“ToobadeveryoneintheRepublicisn’tasoldier,”hemutters.

Iopenmyeyes.ToobadeveryoneintheRepublicisn’tasoldier.Andjustlikethat,IknowwhatIneedtodo.Iknowhowtoanswerthe

Chancellor’sblackmail,andhowtostalltheColonies.I’mdying,Idon’thavemanydaysleft—mymindisslowlyfallingapart,andsoismystrength.ButIdohaveenoughstrengthforonething.Ihaveenoughtimetotakeonefinalstep.

“MaybeeveryoneintheRepubliccanbeasoldier,”Ireplyquietly.

LASTNIGHTFEELSLIKEADREAM,EVERYLASTDETAILofit.Butthismorningstandsinstarkcontrast—thereisnomistakingtheflinchIfeltfromDaywhenItouchedhisarm,theviolentshudderthatwentthroughhimatjustabrushofmyhand.MyheartstillhurtsasIleavemyapartment,headedforaparkedjeepthatwillbewaitingforme.AmorningspentwiththeSenate.ItryinvaintoclearDayfrommymind,butit’simpossible.ASenatemeetingfeelssotrivialrightnow—theColoniesaregraduallypushingourcountrybackwiththehelpofstrongallies,Antarcticastillrefusestohelpus,andCommanderJamesonisatlarge.AndhereI’llsit,talkingpoliticswhenIcouldbe—shouldbe—outinthefield,doingwhatI’mtrainedtodo.WhatamIgoingtosaytoallofthem,anyway?Areanyofthemevengoingtolisten?

Whatarewegoingtodo?No.Ineedtofocus.IneedtosupportAndenasheattempts,yetagain,to

negotiatewiththeColonies’ChancellorandCEOsandgenerals.Webothknowthatitwon’tgetusanywhere....Theonlythingthatwillmakethembudgeisacure.Andeventhen,itmightnotbeenoughtoholdtheColoniesback.Butstill.Wehavetotry.Andperhapshe’llbeupforhelpingthePatriotswiththeirplans,especiallyifheknowshowmuchDaywillbeinvolvedinthem.

ThemerethoughtofDaybringsbackmemoriesoflastnight.Mycheeksturnhot,andIknowit’snotbecauseofthewarmLosAngelesweather.Stupidtiming,Ichidemyself,andpushlastnightfrommythoughts.Allaroundme,theusuallybusystreetsofLakeareeerilyempty,asifwe’repreparingforanoncomingstorm.Isupposethat’snotsoinaccurate.

Apricklingsensationsuddenlytravelsupmyspine.Istopforamoment,thenfrown.Whatwasthat?Thestreetsstilllookdeserted,butastrangepremonitionmakesthehairsonthebackofmyneckstandup.Someoneiswatchingme.Immediatelytheideafeelstoofar-fetched,butasIwalk,Itighten

myjawandletmyhandrestonmygun.MaybeI’mbeingridiculous.PerhapsthewarningthatDayhadgivenme—thattheColoniesmightusemeagainsthimorthattheymighthavemeintheirsights—isstartingtoplaytricksonmymind.Still,noreasontothrowcautiontothewinds.Ileanagainsttheclosestbuildingsothatmybackisprotected,andcallAnden.Thesoonerthisjeeparrives,thebetter.

AndthenIseeher.Istopthecall.Shewearsagooddisguise.(WeatheredRepublicattirethat’ssupposedtobe

wornonlybyfirst-yearsoldiers,whichmeansshelooksunremarkableandeasilymissed;asoldier’scappulledlowoverherface,withonlyafewdarkredstrandspokingoutfromunderneathit.)Butevenfromthisdistance,Irecognizeherface—coldandhard.

CommanderJameson.Ilookcasuallyawayandpretendtodigaroundinmypocketsforsomething,

butinside,myheartpoundsatafuriouspace.She’shereinLosAngeles,whichmeansshesomehowmanagedtoescapethefightinginDenverandavoidedtheRepublic’sclutches.IsittoobigacoincidencethatsheiswhereIam?PerhapssheisherebecausesheknewthatIwouldbehere?TheColonies.Theremustbeothereyeshere.Myhandsshakeasshepassesmebyontheothersideofthestreet.Shegivesnoindicationofseeingme,butIknowthatshe’snoticed.Onsuchanemptyblock,Ishouldbeimpossibletomiss—andI’mnotindisguise.

Whenherbackisfinallyturnedtome,Icrossmyarms,tiltmyheadslightlydownward,andcallAndenonmyearpieceagain.“Iseeher.She’shere.CommanderJamesonisinLosAngeles.”

MyvoicesoundssoquietandmumbledthatAndenhastroublemakingitout.“Youseeher?”heasksindisbelief.“She’sonthesameblockasyou?”

“Yes,”Iwhisper.I’mcarefultokeepaneyeonCommanderJameson’sdisappearingfigure.“Shemightbehereintentionally,lookingforwheremyjeepwilltakemeorperhapstryingtolocateyou.”Asshepullsfartheraway,anoverwhelmingdesirerisesupinmetotagalong.Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,myagentskillsarecallingouttome.Gonearepolitics;suddenlyI’vebeenthrustbackinthefield.Whensheturnsacorner,Iimmediatelyabandonmyspotandstartheadingafterher.Whereisshegoing?“She’satLakeandColorado,”IwhisperurgentlytoAnden.“Turningnorth.Getsomesoldiersouthere,butdon’tletherknowyou’refollowingalong.Iwanttoseewhereshe’sgoing.”BeforeAndencansayanythingelse,Iendthecall.

Itrailalongthesideofthebuildings,carefultostayintheshadowsasmuch

asIcan,andtakeashortcutthroughonealleytowardthestreetwhereIthinkCommanderJamesonhadgone.Insteadofpeeringaroundthecornerandpotentiallygivingmyselfaway,Iinsteadhuddleinthealleyandcalculatehowmuchtimehaspassed.Ifshekeptupthesamepace,andshestayedonthisstreet,thensheshouldhavewalkedpastthisalleyatleastoneminuteago.Carefully,IleanoutuntilIcancatchaquickglimpseofthestreet.Sureenough,she’salreadywalkedpastme,andIcanseethebackofherfigurehurryingaway.Thisquickglimpseisalsoenoughtotellmesomethingelse—she’stalkingintoherownmike.

IwishDaywerewithme.He’dknowinstantlythebestwaytotravelunseenthroughthesestreets.ForasecondIcontemplatecallinghim,butforhimtogethereintimewouldbetoomuchofastretch.

Instead,IfollowCommanderJameson.Itailherforagoodfourblocks,untilweenterastripofRubythatborderspartofBatalla,wheretwoorthreepyramidairshipbasessitalongthestreet.Shemakesaturnagain.Ihurrytoturnwithher—butbythetimeIlookdownthestreet,she’sgone.Perhapssheknewsomeonewasfollowingher;afterall,CommanderJamesonismuchmoreexperiencedinthissortoftrackingthanIam.Ilooktotheroofs.

Anden’svoicecracklesinmyearpiece.“Welosther,”heconfirms.“I’veputoutasilentalerttothetroopstheretosearchforherandreportimmediatelyback.Shecouldn’thavegonefar.”

“That’strue,”Iagree,butmyshoulderssag.She’ddisappearedwithoutatrace.Whohadshebeentalkingtoonhermike?Myeyesscanthestreet,tryingtofigureoutwhatshemusthavecomeherefor.Maybeshe’sscouting.Thethoughtunnervesme.

“I’mheadingback,”Ifinallywhisperintomyownmike.“Ifmysuspicionsarecorrect,thenwemighthave—”

Awhooshofair—ablindingspark—somethingexplodesbeforemyeyes.Iflinchandthrowmyselfinstinctivelytothegroundbehindanearbytrashbin.Whatwasthat?

Abullet.Ilooktothewallwhereithit.Asmallchunkofbrickismissing.Someonetriedtoshootme.MysuddenturntogobackthewayIcamemusthavebeentheonlythingthatsavedmylife.IstartplacinganotherfranticcalltoAnden.Bloodrushesthroughmyearslikeatidalwaveofnoise,blockingoutlogicandallowingthepanicin.Anotherbulletsparksagainstthemetalofthetrashbin.There’snoquestionnowthatI’munderattack.

Iclickthecalloff.WhereisCommanderJamesonshootingfrom?Arethere

otherswithher?Coloniestroops?Republicsoldiersturnedtraitorous?Idon’tknow.Ican’ttell.Ican’thearandIcan’tsee—

Throughmyrisingpanic,Metias’svoicematerializes.Staycalm,Junebug.Logicwillsaveyou.Focus,think,act.

Iclosemyeyes,takingadeep,shudderingbreath,andallowmyselfasecondtostillmymind,toconcentrateonmybrother’svoice.Thisisnotimetofallapart.Ihaveneverletemotionsgetthebestofme,andI’mnotabouttostartnow.Think,June.Don’tbestupid.Afteroverayearoftrauma,aftermonthsandmonthsofpoliticalbargaining,afterdaysofwaranddeath,Iamstartingtosuspecteverythingandeveryone.ThisishowtheColoniescouldtearusapart...notwiththeiralliesorweapons,butwiththeirpropaganda.Withfearanddesperation.

Mypanicclears.Logicsweepsbackin.First,Iyankmyowngunoutofitsholster.ThenImakeanexaggerated

gesture,likeI’mabouttodartoutfrombehindthetrashbin.Instead,Istayput—butmyfeintisenoughtoprovokeanotherbullet.Spark!Itricochetsoffthebrickwallthatmybackispressedupagainst.InstantlyIglanceatthemarkitleavesandpinpointwhereitmighthavecomefrom.(Notfromtheroofs—theangleisn’twideenough.Four,maybefivefloorsup.Notthebuildingdirectlyacrossfromme,buttheonerightnexttoit.)Ilookovertothewindowsliningthosefloors.Severalareopen.AtfirstIwanttoaimrightbackatthosewindows—butthenIremindmyselfthatImighthitsomeoneunintentionally.Instead,Istudythebuilding.Itlookslikeeitherabroadcaststationoramilitaryhall—it’scloseenoughtotheairbasesthatIwonderwhetherit’swheretheairshipsarebeingmonitoredfrom.

Whatissheuptothatinvolvestheairbases?AretheColoniesplanningasurpriseattackhere?

Iclickmymikebackon.“Anden,”IwhisperafterIinputhiscode.“Getmeoutofhere.Usemygun’stracking.”

Butmycallhasnotimetogothrough.Asplitsecondlater,anotherbulletcracksrightabovemyhead—thistimeIflinchandflattenmyselfunderneaththetrashbin.WhenIopenmyeyes,IfindmyselfstaringstraightintothecoldeyesofCommanderJameson.

Shegrabsformywrist.Iboltoutfromunderthetrashbinbeforeshecanreachme.Itwistaroundto

aimmygunather,butshe’salreadydartedaway.Herowngun’sraised.RightawayIcantellthatshe’snotaimingtokill.Why?Thequestionrunsthroughmy

mindatlightningspeed.BecausetheColoniesneedmealive—becausetheyneedmetobargainwith.

Shefires;Irollontheground.Abulletmissesmylegbyinches.Ihopontomyfeetandaimatheragain—thistimeIfire.Imissherbyahair.Sheducksbehindthetrashbin.AtthesametimeItrytoputacallthroughagain.Isucceed.“Anden,”IgaspintothemikeasIturntailandrun.“Getmeout!”

“Alreadyonourway,”Andenreplies.IsprintaroundacornerrightasIhearanothershotfiredbehindme.It’sthelastone.Rightonschedule,ajeepracestowardmeandscreechestoahaltseveralfeetawayfromme.Apairofsoldierspoursout,shieldingmewhiletwoothersrunouttothestreettowardCommanderJameson.Ialreadyknowit’stoolatetocatchher,though—shemust’vemadearunforittoo.It’salloverasquicklyasitbegan.Ihopintothejeepwiththesoldiers’help,thencollapseagainsttheseataswespeedaway.Adrenalinewashesthroughme.Myentirebodytremblesuncontrollably.

“Areyouallright?”oneofthesoldiersasks,buthisvoicesoundsfaraway.AllIcanthinkaboutiswhattheencountermeant.CommanderJamesonhadknownIwouldwaitatthatblockformyjeep;shemusthaveluredmeoutinanattempttocaptureme.Herpresenceattheairshipbaseswasnocoincidence.She’sfeedinginformationtotheColoniesaboutourrotationsandlocationshere.ThereareprobablyotherColoniessoldiershidingamongstustoo—CommanderJamesonisawantedfugitive.Shecan’tmovearoundthiseasilywithouthelp.Andwithherexperience,shecouldprobablyholdoffamanhuntforheronthesestreetslongenoughfortheColoniestoarrive.FortheColoniestoarrive.They’vetargetedtheirnextcity,andit’sgoingtobeus.

Overmyearpiece,Anden’svoicecomesonagain.“I’monmyway,”hesaysurgently.“Areyouallright?ThejeepwilltakeyoustraighttoBatallaHall,andI’llhaveafullguardonyou—”

“She’sfeedingtheminformationabouttheports,”Ibreatheintothemikebeforehecanfinish.MyvoiceshakesasIsayit.“TheColoniesareabouttoattackLosAngeles.”

IGETTHECALLABOUTJUNEASI’MSITTINGWITHEDEN.Afteramorningofexperimentations,he’sfinallyfallenasleep.Outside,cloudsblankettheentirecityinableakatmosphere.Good.Iwouldn’tknowhowtofeelifitwereabright,sunnyday,notwiththisnewsaboutCommanderJamesonandthefactthatshe’dtriedtoshootJuneoutintheopenonthestreets.Cloudssuitmymoodjustfine.

WhileIwaitimpatientlyforJunetoarriveatthehospital,IspendmytimewatchingTessthroughtheglassofherroom’swindow.Thelabteamstillsurroundsher,monitoringhervitalslikeabunchofgoddyvulturesonanoldnatureshow.Ishakemyhead.Ishouldn’tbesohardonthem.Earliertheyletmeputonasuit,sitinsidenexttoTess,andholdherhand.Shewasunconscious,ofcourse,butshecouldstilltightenherfingersaroundmine.SheknowsI’mhere.ThatI’mwaitingforhercure.

Nowthelabteamlookslikethey’reinjectingherwithsomesortofformulamixedfromabatchofliquidmadefromEden’sbloodcells.HellifIknowwhat’llhappennext.Theirfacesarehiddenbehindreflectiveglassmasks,turningthemintosomethingalien.Tess’seyesstayclosed,andherskin’sanunhealthyyellow.

ShehasthevirusthattheColoniesspread,Ihavetoremindmyself.No,thattheRepublicspread.Damnthismemoryofmine.

Pascao,Baxter,andtheotherPatriotsstaycampedoutatthehospitaltoo.Wherethehellelsedotheyhavetogo,anyway?Astheminutesdragon,Pascaotakesaseatnexttomeandrubshishandstogether.“She’shanginginthere,”hemutters,hiseyeslingeringonTess.“Buttherehavebeenreportsofsomeotheroutbreaksinthecity.Camemostlyfromsomerefugees.HaveyouseenthenewsontheJumboTrons?”

Ishakemyhead.Myjawistensewithrage.WhenisJunearriving?Theysaidtheywerebringingherhereoveraquarterofanhourago.“Haven’tgoneanywhereexcepttoseemybrotherandtoseeTess.”

Pascaosighs,rubbingahandacrosshisface.He’scarefulnottoaskaboutJune.I’dapologizetohimaboutmytemper,butI’mtooangrytocare.“Threequarantinezonessetupnowindowntown.Ifyou’restillplanningtoexecuteyourlittlestunt,wegottamoveoutwithinthenextday.”

“That’sallthetimewe’llneed.Iftherumorswe’rehearingfromJuneandtheElectoraretrue,thenthiswillbeourbestchance.”ThethoughtofpartsofLosAngelesbeingcordonedoffforquarantinessendsadark,uncomfortablenostalgiathroughme.Everything’ssowrong,andI’msotired.I’msotiredofworryingaboutitall,aboutwhetherornotthepeopleIcareaboutwillmakeitthroughthenightorsurvivetheday.Atthesametime,Ican’tsleep.Eden’swordsfromthismorningstillringinmythoughts.MaybeeveryoneintheRepubliccanbeasoldier.Myfingersrunalongthepaperclipringadorningmyfinger.IfJunehadgotteninjuredthismorning,Iwonderifthelastshredsofmysanitywould’vevanished.IfeellikeI’mhangingonbyathread.Iguessthat’strueinaprettyliteralsensetoo—myheadacheshavebeenrelentlesstoday,andI’vegrownusedtotheperpetualpainpulsingatthebackofmyhead.Justafewmonths,Ithink.Justafewmonths,likethedoctorssaid,andthenmaybethemedicationwillhaveworkedenoughtoletmegetthatsurgery.Keephangingon.

Atmysilence,Pascaoturnshispaleeyesonme.“It’sgonnabedangerous,whatyou’vetoldme,”hesays.Heseemslikehe’streadingcarefully.“Somecivilianswilldie.There’sjustnowayaroundit.”

“Idon’tthinkwehaveachoice,”Ireply,returninghislook.“Nomatterhowwarpedthiscountryis,it’sstilltheirhomeland.Wehavetocallthemtoaction.”

Shoutsechofromthehallbeyondourown.PascaoandIbothstoptolistenforasecond—andifIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dswearitwastheElector.Weird.I’mnotexactlyAnden’sbiggestfan,butI’veneverheardhimlosehistemper.

Thedoubledoorsattheendofthehallswingopenwithabang—suddenly,theshoutsfillthehall.Andenstormsinwithhisusualcrowdofsoldiers,whileJunekeepsupbesidehim.June.Relieffloodsthroughmybody.Ihoptomyfeet.HerfacelightsupasIhurryovertoher.

“I’mokay,”shesays,wavingmeoffbeforeIcanevenopenmymouth.Shesoundsimpatientaboutit,likeshe’sspenttheentiredayconvincingeveryoneelseofthesamething.“They’rebeingoverlycautious,bringingmehere—”

Icouldcarelessifthey’rebeingoverlycautious.Icutheroffandpullherintoatightembrace.Aweightliftsfrommychest,andtherestofmyangercomesfloodingin.“You’retheElector,”IsnapatAnden.“You’rethedamnElectoroftheRepublic.Can’tyoumakesureyourowngoddyPrinceps-Electisn’tassassinatedbyaprisoneryouguyscan’tevenseemtokeepimprisoned?Whatkindofbodyguardsdoyouhave,anyway—apackoffirst-yearcadets?”

Andenshootsmeadangerouslook,buttomysurprise,hestayssilent.IpullawayfromJunesoIcanholdherfaceinmyhands.“You’reokay,right?”Iaskurgently.“You’recompletelyokay?”

Juneraisesaneyebrowatme,thengivesmeaquick,reassuringkiss.“Yes.I’mcompletelyokay.”ShecastsaglanceoveratAnden,buthe’stoodistractedtalkingtooneofhissoldiersnow.

“FindmethemenassignedtoretrievethePrinceps-Elect,”hesnapsatthesoldier.Darkcircleslinetheskinunderhiseyes,andhisfacelooksbothhaggardandfurious.“Ifluckhadn’tbeenonourside,Jamesonwouldhavekilledher.I’vehalfamindtolabelthemalltraitors.There’splentyofroominthefiringsquadyardforallofthem.”ThesoldiersnapstoattentionandrushesoffwithseveralotherstodoasAndensaid.Myownangerwanes,andachillrunsthroughmeathowfamiliarhiswrathfeels.LikeI’mlookingathisfather.

Nowhefacesme.Hisvoiceturnscalmer.“Thelabteamtellsmethatyourbrotherpulledthroughhisexperimentationsofarverybravely,”hesays.“Iwantedtothankyouagainfor—”

“Don’tlayitontoothick,”Iinterruptwitharaisedeyebrow.“Thiswholethingisn’toveryet.”Aftermoredaysliketoday,whereEden’sgoingtofadeevenfasterfromalltheexperiments,Imightnotbesopolite.Ilowermyvoice,makinganefforttosoundcivilagain.It’shalfworking.“Let’stalkinprivate.Elector,Ihavesomeideastorunbyyou.WiththisrecentnewsfromCommanderJameson,wemightjusthaveanopportunitytostirupsometroublefortheColonies.You,me,June,andthePatriots.”

Anden’seyesdarkenatthat,andhismouthtightensinanuncertainfrownashescanshisaudience.Pascao’sgiant,ever-presentgrindoesn’tseemtoimprovehismood.Afterafewseconds,though,henodsathissoldiers.“Getusaconferenceroom,”hesays.“Iwantsecuritycamsoff.”

Hissoldiersscrambletodohisbidding.Aswefallintostepbehindhim,IexchangealongglancewithJune.She’sokay,she’sunharmed.Andyet,

I’mafraidthatshe’lldisappearifI’mcarelessenoughtolookaway.Iforcemyselftoholdbackonaskingheraboutwhathappeneduntilwe’reallinaprivateroom—andfromthelookonherface,she’salsowaitingfortherightmoment.Myhandachestoholdhers.Ikeepthattomyselftoo.Ourdancearoundeachotheralwaysseemslikeit’sdoomedtorepeatitselfoverandoveragain.

“So,”Andensaysoncewe’vesettledintoaroomandhispatrolhasdisabledallofthecams.Heleansbackinoneofthechairsandsurveysmewithapenetratinglook.“PerhapsweshouldstartwithwhathappenedtoourPrinceps-Electthismorning.”

Juneliftsherchin,butherhandsshakeeversoslightly.“IsawCommanderJamesoninRubysector.Myguessisthatshewasintheareatoscoutlocations—andshemusthaveknownwhereIwouldbe.”ImarvelathowsteadyJunesounds.“Itailedherforawhile,untilwereachedthestripofairshipbasesthatborderRubyandBatalla.Sheattackedmethere.”

Eventhisshortofasummaryisenoughtomakemeseered.Andensighsandrunsahandthroughhishair.“WesuspectthatCommanderJamesonmayhavegivensomelocationsandschedulestotheColoniesaboutLosAngelesairshipbases.ShemayhavealsoattemptedtokidnapMs.Iparisforbargainingpower.”

“DoesthatmeantheColoniesareplanningtoattackLA?”Pascaoasks.Ialreadyknowhisnextthought.“Butthatwouldmeanit’strue,Denverhasfallen...”HetrailsoffatAnden’sexpression.

“We’rereceivingsomeearlyrumors,”Andenreplies.“ThewordisthattheColonieshaveabombthatcanleveltheentirecity.Theonlythingholdingthembackfromusingitisaninternationalban.Theywouldn’twanttofinallyforceAntarcticatogetinvolved,nowwouldthey?”SincewhendidAndenbecomesosarcastic?“Atanyrate,iftheyattacknow,wewillbehard-pressedtohaveacurereadytoshowAntarcticabeforetheColoniesoverwhelmus.Wecandefendagainstthem.Wecan’tdefendagainstthemandAfrica.”

Ihesitate,thenbringupthethoughtsthathavebeenchurninginmymind.“ItalkedtoEdenthismorning,duringhisexperimentation.Hegavemeanidea.”

“Andwhat’sthat?”Juneasks.Ilookather.Stillaslovelyasever,butevenJuneisstartingtoshowthe

stressfromthisinvasion,hershouldersslightlyhunched.Myeyesturnback

toAnden.“Surrender,”Isay.Hehadn’texpectedthat.“Youwantmetoraisethewhiteflagtothe

Colonies?”“Yes,surrender.”Ilowermyvoice.“Yesterdayafternoon,theColonies’

Chancellormademeanoffer.HetoldmethatifIcouldgettheRepublic’speopletoriseupinsupportoftheColoniesandagainsttheRepublicsoldiers,he’dmakesurethatEdenandIareprotectedoncetheColonieswinthewar.Let’ssaythatyousurrender,andatthesametime,IoffertomeettheChancellortogivehimtheanswertohisrequest,thatI’mgoingtoaskthepeopletoembracetheColoniesastheirnewgovernment.YounowhaveachancetocatchtheColoniesoffguard.TheChancelloralreadyassumesyou’regoingtosurrenderanydaynow,anyway.”

“Fakingasurrenderisagainstinternationallaw,”Junemumblestoherself,althoughshestudiesmecarefully.Icantellthatshe’snotexactlyagainsttheidea.“Idon’tknowwhethertheAntarcticanswillappreciatethat,andthewholepointofthisistopersuadethemtohelpusout,isn’tit?”

Ishakemyhead.“Theydidn’tseemtocarethattheColoniesbroketheceasefirewithoutwarningus,backwhenthisallerupted.”IglanceatAnden.Hewatchesmeclosely,hischinrestingonhishand.“Nowyougettoreturnthefavor,yeah?”

“WhathappenswhenyoumeetwiththeChancellor?”hefinallyasks.“Afalsesurrendercanonlylastsolongbeforeweneedtoact.”

Ileantowardhim,myvoiceurgent.“YouknowwhatEdensaidtomethismorning?‘ToobadeveryoneintheRepubliccan’tbeasoldier.’Buttheycan.”

Andenstayssilent.“LetmemarkeachofthesectorsintheRepublic,somethingthatwilllet

thepeopleknowthattheycan’tjustliedownandlettheColoniestakeovertheirhomes,somethingthatwillaskthemtowaitformysignalandremindthemwhatwe’reallfightingfor.Then,whenImaketheannouncementthattheColonies’Chancellorwantsmetomake,Iwon’tcallonthepeopletoembracetheColonies.I’llcallthemtoaction.”

“Andwhatiftheydon’trespondtoyourcall?”Junesays.Ishootheraquicksmile.“Havesomefaith,sweetheart.Thepeoplelove

me.”Inspiteofherself,Junesmilesback.IturntoAnden.Seriousnessreplacesmyflashofamusement.“The

peoplelovetheRepublicmorethanyouthink,”Isay.“MorethanIthought.YouknowthenumberoftimesIsawevacueesaroundheresingingpatrioticRepublicsongs?YouknowhowmuchgraffitiI’veseenoverthelastfewmonthsthatsupportbothyouandthecountry?”Anoteofpassionentersmyvoice.“Thepeopledobelieveinyou.Theybelieveinus.Andtheywillfightbackforusifwecallonthem—they’llbetheonesrippingdownColoniesflags,protestinginfrontofColoniesoffices,turningtheirownhomesintotrapsforinvadingColoniessoldiers.”Inarrowmyeyes.“They’llbecomeamillionversionsofme.”

AndenandIstareateachother.Finally,hesmiles.“Well,”Junesaystome,“whileyou’rebusybecomingtheColonies’

mostwantedcriminal,thePatriotsandIcanjoininyourstunts.We’llpullthemonanationallevel.IfAntarcticaprotests,theRepubliccanjustsaytheyweretheactionsofafewvigilantes.IftheColonieswanttoplaydirty,thenlet’splaydirty.”

1700HOURS.BATALLAHALL.68°F.

IHATESENATEMEETINGS.IHATETHEMWITHAPASSION—

nothingbutaseaofbickeringpoliticiansandtalkingheads,talkingtalkingtalkingallthetimewhenIcouldinsteadbeoutinthestreets,givingmymindandbodyahealthyworkout.ButaftertheplanthatDay,Anden,andIhaveconcocted,there’snochoicebuttobrieftheSenate.NowIsitinthecircularmeetingchamberatBatallaHall,myseatfacingAndenfromacrosstheroom,tryingtoignoretheintimidatinglooksfromtheSenators.FeweventsleavemefeelingmorelikeachildthanSenatemeetings.

Andenaddresseshisrestlessaudience.“AttacksagainstourbasesinVegashavepickedupsinceDenverfell,”hesays.“We’veseenAfricansquadronsapproachingthecity.Tomorrow,Iheadouttomeetmygeneralsthere.”Hehesitateshere.Iholdmybreath.IknowhowmuchAndenhatestheideaofvoicingdefeattoanyone,especiallytotheColonies.Helooksatme—mycuetohelphim.He’ssotired.Weallare.“Ms.Iparis,”hecallsout.“Ifyouplease,Ihandthefloorovertoyoutoexplainyourstoryandyouradvice.”

Itakeadeepbreath.AddressingtheSenate:theonethingIhatemorethanattendingSenatemeetings,madeevenworsebythefactthatIhavetosellthemalie.“Bynow,I’msureallofyouhaveheardaboutCommanderJameson’ssupposedworkfortheColonies.Basedonwhatweknow,itseemslikelythattheColonieswillhitLosAngeleswithasurpriseattackverysoon.Iftheydo,andtheattacksonVegascontinue,wewon’tlastforlong.AftertalkingwithDayandthePatriots,wesuggestthattheonlywaytoprotectourciviliansandtopossiblynegotiateafairtreatyistoannounceoursurrendertotheColonies.”

Stunnedsilence.Then,theroomburstsintochatter.SergeisthefirsttoraisehisvoiceandchallengeAnden.“Withallduerespect,Elector,”hesays,hisvoice

quiveringwithirritation,“youdidnotdiscussthiswithyourotherPrinceps-Elects.”

“ItwasnotsomethingIhadanopportunitytodiscusswithyoubeforenow,”Andenreplies.“Ms.Iparis’sknowledgecomesonlybecauseshewasunfortunateenoughtoexperienceitfirsthand.”

EvenMariana,oftenonAnden’sside,raiseshervoiceagainsttheidea.“Thisisadangerousnegotiation,”shesays.Atleastshespeakscalmly.“Ifyouaredoingthistospareourlives,thenIrecommendyouandMs.Iparisreconsiderimmediately.HandingthepeopletotheColonieswillnotprotectthem.”

TheotherSenatorsdon’tshowthesamerestraint.“Asurrender?WehavekepttheColoniesoffourlandforalmostahundred

years!”“Surelywe’renotallthatweakenedyet?Whathavetheydone,asidefrom

temporarilywinningDenver?”“Elector,thisissomethingyoushouldhavediscussedwithallofus—evenin

themidstofthiscrisis!”Ilookonaseachvoiceriseshigherthanthenext,untiltheentirechamber

fillswiththesoundofinsults,anger,anddisbelief.SomespewhatredoverDay.SomecursetheColonies.SomebegAndentoreconsider,toaskformoreinternationalhelp,topleadfortheUnitedNationstostopsealingourports.Noise.

“Thisisanoutrage!”oneSenator(thin,probablynomorethanahundredandfortypounds,withagleamingbaldhead)barks,lookingatmeasifI’mresponsiblefortheentirecountry’sdownfall.“Surelywe’renottakingdirectionfromalittlegirl?AndfromDay?Youmustbejoking.We’llhandthecountryoverbasedontheadviceofsomedamnboywhoshouldstillbeonournation’scriminallist!”

Andennarrowshiseyes.“CarefulhowyourefertoDay,Senator,beforethepeopleturntheirbacksonyou.”

TheSenatorsneersatAndenandraiseshimselfupashighashecan.“Elector,”hesays,histoneexaggeratedandmocking.“YouaretheleaderoftheRepublicofAmerica.Youhavepoweroverthisentirecountry.Andhereyouare,heldhostagetothesuggestionsofsomeonewhotriedtohaveyoukilled.”Mytemperhasbeguntorise.IlowermyheadsothatIdon’thavetolookattheSenator.“Inmyopinion,sir,youneedtodosomethingbeforeyourentiregovernment—andyourentirepopulation—seesyouasnothingbutacowardly,weak-willed,backroom-negotiatingpushoverbowingtothedemandsofa

teenagegirlandacriminalandaragtagteamofterrorists.Yourfatherwouldhave—”

Andenjumpstohisfeetandslamshishanddownonthetable.Instantlythechamberturnssilent.

“Senator,”Andensaysquietly.Themanstaresback,butwithlessconvictionthanhehadtwosecondsago.“Youarecorrectaboutonlyonething.Asmyfather’sson,IamtheElectoroftheRepublic.Iamthelaw.EverythingIdecidedirectlyaffectswholivesordies.”IstudyAnden’sfacewithagrowingsenseofworry.Hisgentle,soft-voicedselfisslowlydisappearingbehindtheveilofdarknessandviolenceinheritedfromhisfather.“You’ddowelltorememberwhathappenedtothoseSenatorswhoactuallyplottedmyfailedassassination.”

ThechamberfallssoquietIfeellikeIcanhearthebeadsofsweatrollingdowntheSenators’faces.EvenMarianaandSergehaveturnedpale.InthemidstofthemallstandsAnden,hisfaceamaskoffury,hisjawtense,andhiseyesadeep,broodingstorm.Heturnstome—Ifeelanawful,electricshudderrunthroughmybody,butIkeepmygazesteady.Iamtheonlyoneinthechamberwillingtolookhimintheeye.

Evenifoursurrenderisafakeone,onethattheSenatorsaren’tmeanttounderstand,IwonderhowAndenwilldealwiththisgrouponceit’sallover.

Maybehewon’thaveto.Maybewe’llbelongtoadifferentcountry,ormaybeAndenandIwillbothbedead.

Inthismoment,sittingamongstadividedSenateandayoungElectorstrugglingtoholdthemtogether,Ifinallyseemypathclearly.Idon’tbelong.Ishouldn’tbehere.Therealizationhitsmesohard,Ifinditsuddenlyhardtobreathe.

AndenandtheSenatorsexchangeafewmoretensewords,butthenit’sallover,andwefileoutoftheroom,anuneasycrowd.IfindAnden—hisdeepreduniformabrightmarkeragainsttheSenators’black—inthehallandpullhimaside.“They’llcomearound,”Isay,tryingtoofferreassuranceinaseaofhostility.“Theydon’thaveachoice.”

Heseemstorelax,ifonlyforasecond.Afewsimplewordsfrommeareenoughtodissipatehisanger.“Iknow.ButIdon’twantthemtohavenochoice.Iwantthemsolidlybehindmeoftheirownwill.”Hesighs.“Canwespeakinprivate?I’vesomethingtodiscusswithyou.”

Istudyhisface,tryingtoguessatwhathewantstosay,dreadingit.Finally,Inod.“Myapartment’scloser.”

Weheadouttohisjeepanddriveinsilence,allthewaytomyhigh-risein

Rubysector.There,wemakeourwayupstairsandentermyapartmentwithoutaword.Olliegreetsus,asenthusiasticasever.Iclosethedoorbehindme.

Anden’stemperhaslongvanished.Helooksaroundwitharestlessexpression,thenturnsbacktome.“DoyoumindifIsit?”

“Please,”Ireply,takingaseatmyselfatthediningtable.TheElectorPrimo,askingforpermissiontosit?

Andentakestheseatbesidemewithallofhissignaturegrace,andthenrubshistempleswithwearyhands.“Ihavesomegoodnews,”hesays.Hetriestosmile,butIcanseehowheavyitis.“I’vemadeadealwithAntarctica.”

Iswallowhard.“And?”“They’veconfirmedthattheywillsendmilitarysupport—someairsupport

fornow,moregroundsupportwhenweprovewe’vefoundacure,”Andenreplies.“AndtheywillagreetotreatDay.”Hedoesn’tlookatme.“InexchangeforDakota.Ihadnochoice.I’mgivingthemourlargestterritory.”

Myheartjumpswithanoverwhelmingsenseofjoyandrelief—andatthesametime,itsinkswithsympathyforAnden.He’sbeenforcedtofragmentthecountry.Givingupourmostpreciousresource;everybodyintheworld’smostpreciousresource.Itwasinevitable.Everywincomeswithasacrifice.“Thankyou,”Isay.

“Don’tthankmeyet.”Hiswrysmilequicklyturnsintoagrimace.“Wearehangingbyathread.Idon’tknowiftheirhelpwillcomefastenough.Thewordfromthewarfrontisthatwe’relosinggroundinVegas.Ifourplanswiththisphonysurrenderfail,ifwedon’tfindacuresoon,thiswarwillbeoverbeforeAntarctica’ssupporteverarrives.”

“DoyouthinkfindingacurewillmaketheColoniesstop?”Iaskquietly.Andenshakeshishead.“Wedon’thavemanyoptions,”hereplies.“Butwe

havetohangonuntilhelparrives.”Hefallssilentforamoment.“IheadtothewarfrontinVegastomorrow.Ourtroopsneedit.”

Rightintothethickofwar.Itrytostaycalm.“AreyourPrinceps-Electsgoingtoo?”Iask.“YourSenators?”

“Onlymygeneralswilljoinme,”Andenreplies.“You’renotgoingtocome,andneitherareMarianaandSerge.SomeoneneedstoholdfirminLosAngeles.”

Andhere’sthemeatofwhathewantstotellme.MymindspinsoverwhatIknowhe’llsaynext.

Andenleansonthetableandthreadshisglovedfingerstogether.“SomeoneneedstoholdfirminLosAngeles,”herepeats,“whichmeansoneofmyPrinceps-ElectswillneedtotakemyplaceasanactingElector.Shewouldneed

tocontroltheSenate,keepthemincheckwhileI’mawaywiththetroops.Iwouldselectthisperson,ofcourse,andtheSenatewouldconfirmit.”Asmall,sadsmileplaysattheedgesofhislips,asifhealreadyknowswhatmyanswerwillbe.“I’vealreadyspokenindividuallywithMarianaandSergeaboutthis,andtheyarebotheagerformyappointment.NowIneedtoknowwhetheryouare,aswell.”

Iturnmyheadawayandlookouttheapartmentwindow.ThethoughtofbecominganactingElectoroftheRepublic—eventhoughmychancesofbeingchosenpaleincomparisontothatofMarianaandSerge—shouldexciteme,butitdoesn’t.

Andenwatchesmecarefully.“Youcantellme,”hefinallysays.“Irealizewhataturningpointthisdecisionis,andI’vesensedyourdiscomfortforquitesometime.”Hegivesmealevelstare.“Tellmethetruth,June.DoyoureallywanttobeaPrinceps-Elect?”

Ifeelastrangeemptiness.Ihadbeencontemplatingthisforalongtime,mydisinterestandwearinesswiththepoliticsoftheRepublic,thebickeringintheSenate,thefightingamongSenatorsandthePrinceps-Elects.I’dthoughtthiswouldbehardtosaytohim.Butnowthathe’shere,waitingformyanswer,thewordscomeeasily,calmly.

“Anden,youknowthattheroleofaPrinceps-Electhasbeenahugehonorforme.Butastimegoeson,Icantellthatsomething’smissing,andnowIknowwhatitis.Yougettoheadoffandleadyourarmyagainstourenemies,whileDayandthePatriotsarefightingbackagainsttheColoniesintheirownguerillaway.Imissbeingoutinthefield,workingasajunioragentandrelyingonmyself.Imissthedayswhenthingswerestraightforwardinsteadofpolitical,whenIcouldeasilysensetherightpathandwhatIshoulddo.I...missdoingwhatmybrotherhelpedtrainmetodo.”Iholdmygazesteady.“I’msorry,Anden,butIdon’tknowwhetherI’mcutouttobeapolitician.I’masoldier.Idon’tthinkyoushouldconsidermeasatemporaryElectorinyourabsence,andI’mnotsurewhetherIshouldcontinueonasyourPrinceps-Elect.”

Andensearchesmyeyes.“Isee,”hefinallysays.Althoughthere’satwingeofsadnessinhisvoice,heseemstoagree.Ifthere’sonethingAndenexcelsat,evenmorethanDay,it’sunderstandingwhereI’mcomingfrom.

Amomentlater,Iseeanotheremotioninhiseyes—envy.He’senviousthatIhavethechoicetostepawayfromtheworldofpolitics,thatIcanturntosomethingelse,whenAndenwillforeverandalwaysbeourElector,someonethecountryneedstoleanon.Hecanneverstepawaywithacleanconscience.

Heclearshisthroat.“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”“Iwanttojointhetroopsinthestreets,”Ireply.I’msosureofmydecision

thistime,soexcitedbytheprospect,thatIcanhardlybearit.“Sendmebackoutthere.Letmefight.”Ilowermyvoice.“Ifwelose,thennoneofthePrinceps-Electswillmatteranyway.”

“Ofcourse,”Andensays,nodding.Helooksaroundtheroomwithanuncertainexpression,andbehindhisbravefrontIcanseetheboykinginhimstrugglingtoholdon.Thenhenoticesarumpledcoathangingatthefootofmybed.Helingersonit.

I’dneverbotheredtoputDay’scoataway.Andenfinallylooksawayfromit.Idon’tneedtotellhimthatDayhadspent

thenight—Icanalreadyseetherealizationonhisface.Iblush.Ihavealwaysbeengoodathidingmyemotions,butthistimeI’membarrassedthatsomethingaboutthatnight—theheatofDay’sskinagainstmine,thetouchofhishandsmoothingmyhairawayfrommyface,thebrushofhislipsagainstmyneck—willshowupinmyeyes.

“Well,”hesaysafteralongpause.Hegivesmeasmall,sadsmile,thenrises.“Youareasoldier,Ms.Iparis,throughandthrough—butithasbeenanhonortoseeyouasaPrinceps-Elect.”TheElectoroftheRepublicbowstome.“Whateverhappensfromhere,Ihopeyourememberthat.”

“Anden,”Iwhisper.Thememoryofhisdark,furiousfaceintheSenatechambercomesbacktome.“Whenyou’reinVegas,promisemethatyou’llstayyourself.Don’tturnintosomeoneyou’renot.Okay?”

Hemaynothavebeensurprisedbymyanswer,orbyDay’scoat.Butthisseemstocatchhimoffguard.Heblinks,confusedforasecond.Thenheunderstands.Heshakeshishead.“Ihavetogo.Ihavetoleadmymen,justlikemyfatherdid.”

“That’snotwhatImean,”Isaycarefully.Hestrugglesforamomenttofindthenextwords.“It’snosecrethowcruel

myfatherwas,orhowmanyatrocitieshecommitted.TheTrials,theplagues...”Andentrailsoffalittle,thelightinhisgreeneyesturningdistantashedwellsonmemoriesofsomeonefewofushadevercometoknow.“Buthefoughtwithhismen.Youunderstandthis,perhapsmorethananyone.Hedidn’thangbackinaSenatechamberwhilehesenthistroopsofftodie.Whenhewasyoungandbroughtthecountryfromalawlessmesstostrictmartiallaw,hewasoutinthestreetsandinfrontofhissquadrons.Hefoughtatthewarfrontitself,shootingdownColoniesjets.”Andenpausestogivemeaquicklook.“I’mnot

tryingtodefendanythinghedid.Butifhewasanything,hewasunafraid.Hewonhismilitary’sloyaltythroughaction,howeverruthless....Iwanttoboostourtroops’moraletoo,andIcan’tdoitwhilehidingoutinLA.I’m—”

“Youarenotyourfather,”Isay,holdinghisgazewithmyown.“You’reAnden.Youdon’thavetofollowinhisfootsteps;youhaveyourown.You’retheElectornow.Youdon’thavetobelikehim.”

IthinkbackonmyownloyaltytotheformerElector,ofallthevideofootageofhimshoutingordersfromthecockpitofafighterjet,orheadinguptanksinthestreets.Hewasalwaysonthefrontlines.Hewasfearless.Now,asIlookatAnden,Icanseethatsamefearlessnessburningsteadilyinhiseyes,hisneedtoasserthimselfasaworthyleaderofhiscountry.Whenhisfatherwasyoung,perhapshehadalsobeenlikeAnden—idealistic,fullofhopesanddreams,ofthenoblestintentions,braveanddriven.HowhadheslowlytwistedintotheElectorwhocreatedsuchadarknation?Whatpathhadhechosentofollow?Suddenly,forhoweverbriefasecond,IfeellikeIunderstandtheformerRepublic.AndIknowthatAndenwon’tgodownthatsameroad.

Andenreturnsmylook,asifhearingmyunspokenwords...andforthefirsttimeinmonths,Iseesomeofthatdarkcloudliftfromhiseyes,theblacknessthatgivesbirthtohismomentsoffurioustemper.

Withouthisfather’sshadowintheway,he’sbeautiful.“I’lldomybest,”hewhispers.

THESECONDNIGHTOFTHECOLONIES’CEASEFIRE.WELL,NOPOINTINRETURNINGHOMETONIGHT.PASCAOandIaregonnarunthroughLosAngeles,markingdoorsandwallsandalertingthepeoplequietlytoourcause,andwemightaswelldoitfromacentrallocationlikethehospital.Besides,IneededtositwithEdenforawhile.Aneveningofbloodtestshaven’ttreatedhimwell—he’sthrownuptwicesinceI’vebeenhere.Whileanurserushesoutoftheroomwithabucketinhand,Ipouraglassofwaterformybrother.Heguzzlesitdown.

“Anyluck?”heasksweakly.“Doyouknowifthey’vefoundanythingyet?”

“Notyet.”Itaketheemptyglassfromhimandsetitbackonatray.“I’llcheckinwiththeminalittlebit,though.Seehowthey’redoing.Betterbeworthallthis.”

Edensighs,closeshiseyes,andleanshisheadagainstthemountainofpillowsstackedonhisbed.“I’mfine,”hewhispers.“How’syourfriend?Tess?”

Tess.Shehasn’twokenupyet,andnowIfindmyselfwishingthatwecouldgobacktowhenshewasstillabletoshovethelabteamaround.Iswallowhard,tryingtoreplacemymentalimageofhersicklyappearancewiththesweet,cheeryfaceI’veknownforyears.“She’sasleep.Labsaysherfeverhasn’tbroken.”

Edengritshisteethandlooksbackatthescreenmonitoringhisvitals.“Sheseemsnice,”hefinallysays.“FromeverythingI’veheard.”

Ismile.“Sheis.Afterallthisisover,maybethetwoofyoucanhangoutorsomething.You’dgetalong.”Ifweallpullthroughthis,Iaddtomyself,andthenhurriedlybanishthethought.Damn,everydayit’sgettingharderandhardertokeepmychinup.

Ourconversationendsafterthat,butEdenkeepsonehandgrippedtightlyinmyown.Hiseyesstayclosed.Afterawhile,hisbreathingchanges

intothesteadyrhythmofsleep,andhishandfallsawaytorestonhisblanket.Ipulltheblanketuptocoverhimtohischin,watchhimforafewmoreseconds,andthenstand.Atleasthecanstillsleepprettysoundly.Idon’t.Everyhourorso,forthelasttwodays,Ishakemyselfoutofsomegruesomenightmareandhavetowalkitoffbeforeattemptingtosleepagain.Myheadachestayswithme,aconstant,dullcompanion,remindingmeofmytickingclock.

IopenthedoorandsneakoutasquietlyasIcan.Thehall’semptyexceptforafewnurseshereandthere.AndPascao.He’sbeenwaitingformeononeofthehall’sbenches.Whenheseesme,hegetsupandflashesmeabriefgrin.

“Theothersaregettingintoposition,”hesays.“We’vegotabouttwodozenRunners,allinall,alreadyoutthereandmarkingthesectors.Ithinkit’sabouttimeforthetwoofustoheadouttoo.”

“Readytorousethepeople?”Isay,halfjoking,asheleadsmedownthehall.

“Theexcitementofitallismakingmybonesache.”Pascaopushesopenasetofdoubledoorsatthehall’send,ushersusintoalargerwaitingroom,andthenintoanunusedhospitalroomwiththelightsstillturnedoff.Heflicksthemon.Myeyesgoimmediatelytosomethinglyingonthebed.Itlookslikeapairofsuits,darkwithgrayoutlines,bothlaidoutneatlyontopofthesterileblankets.Besidethesuitsissomekindofequipmentthatlooksalittlelikeguns.IglanceatPascao,whoshoveshishandsintohispockets.“Checktheseout,”hesaysinalowvoice.“WhenIwasthrowingideasaroundthisafternoonwithBaxterandacoupleofRepublicsoldiers,theyloanedoutthesesuitsforusRunners.Itshouldhelpyouinparticular.Junesayssheusessuitsandairlauncherslikethesetogetaroundthecityquickly,withoutbeingdetected.Here.”Hetossesmeone.“Throwthison.”

Ifrownatthesuit.Itdoesn’tlooklikeanythingparticularlyspecial,butIdecidetogivePascaothebenefitofthedoubt.

“I’llbeinthenextroom,”Pascaosaysasheswingshisownsuitoverhisshoulder.Henudgesmyshoulderashepasses.“Withthesethings,weshouldhavenotroublecoveringLosAngelestonight.”

Istarttowarnhimthat,withmyrecentheadachesandmedications,I’mprobablynotstrongenoughtokeepupwithhimaroundtheentirecity—buthe’salreadyoutthedoor,leavingmealoneintheroom.Istudythesuitagain,thenunbuttonmyshirt.

Thesuit’ssurprisinglyfeatherweight,andfitscomfortablyfrommyfeetallthewaytomyzipped-upneck.Iadjustitaroundmyelbowsandknees,thenwalkaroundforabit.Tomyshock,myarmsandlegsfeelstrongerthanusual.Muchstronger.Itryaquickjump.Thesuitabsorbsalmostallofmyweight’sforce,andwithoutmucheffortI’mabletojumphighenoughtoclearthebed.Ibendonearm,thentheother.TheyfeelstrongenoughtoliftsomethingheavierthanwhatI’vebeenusedtoforthepastseveralmonths.Asuddenthrillrushesthroughme.

Icanruninthis.Pascaorapsonmydoor,thencomesbackinwithhisownsuiton.

“How’sitfeel,prettyboy?”heasks,lookingmeover.“Fitsyounicely.”“Whatarethesefor?”Ireply,stilltestingmynewphysicallimits.“Whatdoyouthink?TheRepublicusuallyissuesthesetotheirsoldiers

forphysicallytaxingmissions.Therearespecialspringsinstallednearjoints—elbows,knees,whatever.Inotherwords,it’llmakeyoualittleacrobatichero.”

Incredible.NowthatPascao’smentionedit,Icanfeeltheveryslightpushandpullofsomesortofspringalongmyelbows,andthesubtleliftthespringsgivemykneeswheneverIbendthem.“Itfeelsgood,”Isay,whilePascaowatchesmewithalookofapproval.“Reallygood.ItfeelslikeIcanscaleabuildingagain.”

“Here’swhatI’mthinking,”Pascaosays,hisvoiceloweringagaintoawhisper.Hislightheartedattitudefades.“IftheColonieslandtheirairshipshereinLAaftertheElectorannouncesasurrender,theRepublicwillgetitstroopsintopositiontostageasurpriseattackonthoseairships.TheycancrippleahellofalotofthembeforetheColoniesevenrealizewhatwe’reupto.I’llleadthePatriotsinwiththeRepublic’steams,andwe’llwireupsomeoftheairshipbasestoblowupshipsthataredockedonthem.”

“Soundslikeaplan.”Iflexoneofmyarmsgingerly,marvelingatthestrengththatthesuitgivesme.Myhearthammersinmychest.IfIdon’tcarryoutthisplanjustright,andtheChancellorfiguresoutwhatwe’rereallyupto,thentheRepublicwilllosetheadvantageofourfakesurrender.Weonlygetoneshotatthis.

Weslideopenthehospitalroom’sglassdoorsandheadoutontothebalcony.Thenight’scoolairrefreshesme,takingawaysomeofthegriefandstressofthelastfewdays.Withthissuit,Ifeelalittlelikemyselfagain.Iglanceupatthebuildings.“Shouldwetestthesethingsout?”IaskPascao,

hoistingtheairlauncheronmyshoulder.Pascaogrins,thentossesmeacanofbrightredspraypaint.“Youtook

thewordsrightoutofmymouth.”Sooffwego.IscaledowntothefirstfloorsofastthatInearlylosemy

footing,andthenmakemywayeffortlesslytotheground.Wesplitup,eachcoveringadifferentsectionofthecity.AsIrunmysector,Ican’thelpbutsmile.I’mfreeagain,Icantastethewindandtouchthesky.Inthismoment,mytroublesmeltawayandonceagainI’mabletorunawayfrommyproblems—I’mabletoblendrightinwiththerustandrubbleofthecity,changingitintosomethingthatbelongstome.

ImakemywaythroughTanagashisector’sdarkalleysuntilIcomeacrosslandmarkbuildings,placeswhereIknowmostpeoplewillhavetopassby,andthentakeoutmyspraypaintcan.Iwritethefollowingonthewall:

LISTENFORME.Belowthat,IdrawtheonethingIknoweveryonewillrecognizeas

comingfromme—aredstreakpaintedontoanoutlineofaface.ImarkeverythingIcanthinkof.WhenI’mfinished,Iusetheair

launchertotraveltoaneighboringsector,andthere,Irepeattheentireprocess.Hourslater,myhairdrenchedinsweatandmymusclesaching,ImakemywaybacktotheCentralHospital.Pascao’swaitingoutsideforme,asheenofsweatacrosshisownface.Hegivesmeamocksalute.

“Caretoracebackup?”heasks,flashingmeagrin.Idon’treply.Ijuststartclimbing,andsodoeshe.Pascao’sfigureis

nearlyinvisibleinthedarkness,ashapelessformthatleapsandboundseachstorywiththeeaseofanaturalRunner.Idashafterhim.Anotherstory,andthenanother.

Wemakeitbacktothebalconythatrunsallalongthetower’sfourthfloor.Insideliesthehospitalwingwe’dleftfrom.EventhoughI’moutofbreathandmyheadispoundingagain,ImadetherunalmostasfastasPascaodid.“Hell,”Imuttertohimaswebothleanagainsttherailinginexhaustion.“WherewasthisequipmentwhenIwasatmyhealthiest?Icould’vesingle-handedlydestroyedtheRepublicwithoutbreakingasweat,yeah?”

Pascao’steethshineinthenight.Hesurveysthecityscape.“Maybeit’sa

goodthingyoudidn’thaveit.Otherwisethere’dbenoRepublicforustosave.”

“Isitworthit?”Iaskafterawhile,enjoyingthecoolwinds.“Areyoureallywillingtosacrificeyourlifeforacountrythathasn’tdonemuchofanythingforyou?”

Pascaostayssilentforamoment,thenliftsonearmandpointstowardsomespotonthehorizon.Itrytomakeoutwhathewantsmetosee.“WhenIwaslittle,”hereplies,“IgrewupinWintersector.IwatchedtwoofmylittlesistersfailtheTrial.WhenIwenttothestadiummyselfandhadtotakemyownTrial,Ialmostfailedtoo.Istumbledandfellononeofthephysicaljumps,youknow.Ironic,don’tyouthink?Anyway,oneofthesoldierssawmefall.I’llneverforgetthelookinhiseyes.WhenIrealizedthatnooneelsehadseenmeexceptforhim,Ibeggedhimtoletitgo.Helookeddamntortured,buthedidn’trecordmyfall.WhenIwhisperedmythanks,hetoldmethatherememberedmytwosisters.Hesaid,‘Ithinktwodeathsinyourfamily’senough.’”Pascaopausesforamoment.“I’vealwayshatedtheRepublicforwhattheydidtothepeopleIloved,toallofus.ButsometimesIwonderwhateverhappenedtothatsoldier,andwhathislifewaslike,andwhohecaredabout,andwhetherornothe’sevenstillalive.Whoknows?Maybehe’salreadygone.”Heshrugsatthethought.“IfIlooktheotherwayanddecidetolettheRepublichandleitsownbusiness,andthenitfalls,IguessIcouldjustleavethecountry.Findawaytolivesomewhereelse,hideoutfromthegovernment.”Helooksatme.“Idon’treallyknowwhyIwanttostandonthehillwiththemnow.MaybeIhavealittlebitoffaith.”

Pascaowantstoexplainhimselffurther,likehe’sfrustratedthathedoesn’tknowhowtoputhisanswerintotherightwords.ButIunderstandhimalready.IshakemyheadandstareouttowardtheLakesector,rememberingJune’sbrother.“Yeah.Metoo.”

Afterawhile,wefinallyheadbackinsidethehospital.Itakeoffthesuitandchangebackintomyownclothes.Plan’ssupposedtokickintoeffectstartingwithAnden’ssurrenderannouncement.Afterthat,it’sallonedayatatime.Anythingcouldchange.

WhilePascaoheadsofftogetsomerest,IretracemystepsdownthehallandbacktowardEden’sroom,wonderingifthelabteamshavesentupanynewresultsforustolookat.Asifthey’vereadmymind,IseeafewofthemclusteredoutsideEden’sdoorwhenIarrive.They’retalkinginhushed

tones.TheserenityI’dfeltduringourbriefnightrunfadesaway.“Whatisit?”Iask.Icanalreadyseethetensionintheireyes.Mychest

knotsupatthesight.“Tellmewhat’shappened.”Frombehindtheclearplasticofhishood,oneofthelabtechstellsme,

“WereceivedsomedatafromtheAntarcticanlabteam.Wethinkwe’vemanagedtosynthesizesomethingfromyourbrother’sbloodthatcanalmostactasacure.It’sworking—toadegree.”

Acure!Arushofenergycoursesthroughme,leavingmedizzywithrelief.Ican’thelplettingasmilespillontomyface.“HaveyoutoldtheElectoryet?Doesitwork?CanwestartusingitonTess?”

ThelabtechstopsmebeforeIcangoon.“Almostactasacure,Day,”herepeats.

“Whatdoyoumean?”“TheAntarcticanteamconfirmedthatthevirushaslikelymutatedfrom

theoriginaloneEdendevelopedimmunityto,orthatitmayhavecombineditsgenomewithanothergenomealongtheway.Yourbrother’sTcellshavetheabilitytoshiftalongwiththisaggressivevirus;inoursamples,oneofthecureswe’vedevelopedseemstoworkpartially—”

“SoIcanunderstandyou,”Isayimpatiently.Thelabtechscowlsatme,asifImightinfecthimwithmyattitude.

“We’remissingsomething,”hesayswithanindignantsigh.“We’remissingacomponent.”

“Whatdoyoumean,you’remissingsomething?”Idemand.“Whatareyoumissing?”

“Somewherealongtheway,thevirusthat’scausingourcurrentoutbreaksmutatedfromitsoriginalRepublicplaguevirusandcombinedwithanothervirus.There’ssomethingmissingalongtheway,asaresult.WethinkitmayhavemutatedintheColonies,perhapsquiteawhileago.Monthsago,even.”

MyheartsinksasIrealizewhatthey’retryingtotellme.“Doesthatmeanthecurewon’tworkyet?”

“It’snotonlythatthecurewon’tworkyet.It’sthatwedon’tknowifwecanevergetittowork.Eden’snotPatientZeroforthisthing.”Thelabtechsighsagain.“Andunlesswecanfindthepersonwhothisnewvirusmutatedfrom,I’mnotsurewe’llevercreateacure.”

IAWAKETOTHESOUNDOFASIRENWAILINGACROSSourapartmentcomplex.It’stheairraidalarm.Forasecond,I’mbackinDenver,sittingwithDayatalittlelantern-litcaféwhilesleetfallsallaroundus,listeningtohimtellmethathe’sdying.I’mbackinthepanicked,chaoticstreetsasthesirenshrieksatus—we’reholdinghands,runningforshelter,terrified.

Gradually,myroomfadesintorealityandthesirenwailson.Myheartbeginstopound.Ijumpoutofbed,pausetocomfortawhiningOllie,thenrushtoturnonmyscreen.Newsheadlinesblareout,fightingwiththesiren—andrunningalongthebottomofthescreenisanangry,redwarning.

SEEKCOVERIscantheheadlines.ENEMYAIRSHIPSAPPROACHINGLOSANGELES’SLIMITSALLTROOPSTOREPORTTOTHEIRLOCALHEADQUARTERSELECTORPRIMOTOMAKEEMERGENCYANNOUNCEMENTThey’dpredictedthattheColonieswouldstilltakethreemoredaysbefore

makingamoveonLosAngeles.Itlookslikethey’reaheadofscheduleand

preparingfortheendofthethree-dayceasefire,whichmeansweneedtoputourplanaheadofschedule.Icovermyearsfromthesiren,rushovertothebalcony,andlookoutatthehorizon.Themorninglightisstillweak,andthecloudyskymakesitdifficultformetoseeproperly,butevenso,thedotsliningupaboveCalifornia’smountainskylineareunmistakable.Mybreathcatchesinmythroat.

Airships.Colonies,African—Ican’tquitetellfromthisdistance,butthereisnomistakingthefactthattheyarenotRepublicships.Basedontheirpositionandspeed,theywillbehoveringrightovercentralLosAngelesbeforethehour’sover.Iclickmymikeon,thenrushintotheclosettothrowonsomeclothes.IfAnden’spreparingtomakeanannouncementsoon,thenitwillundoubtedlybethesurrender.Andifthat’sthecase,I’llneedtojoinDayandthePatriotsasquicklyasIcan.Afakesurrenderwillonlyworkforsolongbeforeitturnsintoarealone.

“Whereareyouguys?”IshoutwhenDaycomesontotheline.Hisvoicesoundsasurgentasmine.Theechoofthesirensoundsoutfrom

hissidetoo.“Eden’shospitalroom.Youseetheships?”Iglanceagainatthehorizonbeforelacingupmyboots.“Yes.I’min.I’llbe

theresoon.”“Watchthesky.Staysafe.”Hehesitatesfortwoseconds.“Andhurry.We’ve

gotaproblem.”Thenourcallcutsoff,andI’moutthedoorwithOlliecloseatmyside,gallopinglikethewind.

BythetimewereachtheCentralHospital’slabfloorintheBankTowerandareusheredintoseeDay,Eden,andthePatriots,thesirenshavestopped.Thesector’selectricitymusthavebeenswitchedoffagain,andasidefromthemaingovernmentbuildingsliketheBankTower,thelandscapeoutsidelookseerilyblack,swallowednearlywholebydampmorningshadows.Downthehall,thescreensshowanemptypodiumwhereAndenwillbestandinganyminutenow,poisedtogivealivenationaladdress.Olliestaysgluedtomyside,pantinghisdistress.Ireachdownandpathimseveraltimes,andherewardsmewithalickofmyhand.

ImeetDayandtheothersinEden’sroomrightasAndenappearsonscreen.Edenlooksexhaustedandhalfconscious.HestillhasanIVhookeduptohisarm,butasidefromthat,therearenoothertubesorwires.Besidethebed,alabtechistypingnotesontoanotepad.

DayandPascaoarewearingwhatlooklikedarkRepublicsuitsmeantforphysicallydemandingmissions—it’sthesamesortofsuitI’doncewornbackwhenIfirstneededtobreakDayoutofBatallaHall,whenIspentalatenight

skimmingbuildingroofsinsearchofKaede.Bothofthemaretalkingtoalabtech,andbasedontheirexpressions,they’renotgettinggoodnews.Iwanttoaskthemfordetails,butAndenhassteppeduptothepodiumalready,andmywordsfadeawayasweturnourattentiontothescreen.AllIhearisthesoundofourbreathingandtheominous,distanthumofapproachingairships.

Andenlookscomposed;andeventhoughhe’sonlyayearolderthanthefirsttimeImethim,theweightandgravityonhisfacemakehimlookmuchmorematurethanheactuallyis.Onlytheslightclenchofhisjawrevealsahintofhisrealemotions.He’sdressedinsolidwhite,withsilverepaulettesonhisshouldersandagoldRepublicsealpinnednearthecollarofhismilitarycoat.Behindhimaretwoflags:OneistheRepublic’s,whiletheotherisblank,white,devoidofcolor.Iswallowhard.It’saflagIknowwellfromallmystudies,butonethatI’veneverseenused.Weallknewthiswascoming,wehadplannedthisandweknowit’snotreal—butevenso,Ican’thelpfeelingadeep,darksenseofgriefandfailure.Asifwearetrulyhandingourcountryovertosomeoneelse.

“SoldiersoftheRepublic,”Andenbeginsaddressingthesoldierssurroundinghimatthebase.Asalways,hisvoiceisatoncesoftandcommanding,quietbutclear.“ItiswithaheavyheartthatIcometoyoutodaywiththismessage.IhavealreadyrelayedthesesamewordstotheChancelloroftheColonies.”Hepausesforamoment,asifgatheringhisstrength.Icanonlyimaginethatforhim,evenfakingsuchagesturemustweighonhimfarmorethanitalreadydoesonme.“TheRepublichasofficiallysurrenderedtotheColonies.”

Silence.Thebase,filledwithnoiseandchaosonlyafewminutesago,isnowsuddenlystill—everysoldierfrozen,listeningindisbelief.

“WearenowtoceaseallmilitaryactivityagainsttheColonies,”Andencontinues,“andwithinthenextday,wewillmeetwiththeColonies’leadingofficialstodraftofficialsurrenderterms.”Hepauses,lettingtheweightsettleovertheentirebase.“Soldiers,wewillcontinuetoupdateyouoninformationregardingthisasweproceed.”Thenthetransmissionstops.Hedoesn’tendwithLonglivetheRepublic.Achillrunsthroughmewhenthescreensarereplacedwithanimageof,nottheRepublicflag,buttheColonies’.

Theyaredoingastellarjobofmakingthissurrenderlookconvincing.IhopetheAntarcticansaregoingtokeeptheirword.Ihopehelpisontheway.

“Day,wedon’thavemuchtimetogetthesebasesreadytoblow,”Pascaomutterstousastheaddressstops.ThethreeRepublicsoldierswithusaregearedupinasimilarfashion,allreadytoguidethemtowheretheairbaseswillbe

wired.“You’regonnahavetobuyussometime.NewsisthattheColonieswillstartlandingtheirairshipsatourbasesinafewhours.”

Daynods.AsPascaoturnsawaytorattleoffsomedirectionstothesoldiers,Day’seyesflickertome.Inthem,Iseeastrainedsenseoffearthatmakesmystomachchurn.“Something’sgonewrongwiththecure,hasn’tit?”Iask.“How’sEdendoing?”

Daysighs,runningahandthroughhishair,andthenlooksdownathisbrother.“He’shanginginthere.”

“But...?”“Buttheproblemisthatheisn’tPatientZero.Theysaidthey’remissing

somethingfromhisblood.”Ilookatthefragileboyinthehospitalbed.Edenisn’tPatientZero?“But

what?Whataretheymissing?”“It’dbeeasiertoshowyouthantrytoexplainit.Comeon.Thisissomething

we’llneedtoalertAndenabout.What’sthepointofstagingthiswholesurrenderifwewon’tbeabletogethelpfromAntarctica?”Dayleadsusoutanddownthehall.Wewalkinatensesilenceforawhile,untilwefinallystopinfrontofanondescriptdoor.Dayopensit.

Westepinsidearoomfullofcomps.Alabtechmonitoringthescreensriseswhenheseesus,thenushersusover.“TimetoupdateMs.Iparis?”

“Tellmewhat’sgoingon,”Ireply.Hesitsusdowninfrontofacompandspendsseveralminutesloadingupa

screen.Whenhefinallyfinishes,Iseetwoside-by-sidecomparisonsofsomeslidesofwhatIassumearecells.Ipeermorecloselyatthem.

Thelabtechpointstotheoneontheleft,whichlookslikeaseriesofsmall,polygonalparticlesgroupedaroundalargecentralcell.Attachedtotheparticlesaredozensoflittletubesstickingoutofthecell.“This,”thelabtechsays,circlingthelargecellwithhisfinger,“isasimulationofaninfectedcellthatwe’retryingtotarget.Thecellhasaredhuetoit,indicatingthatviruseshavetakenholdinside.Ifnocure’sinvolved,thiscelllyses—burstsopen—anddies.Now,seetheselittleparticlesaroundit?Thosearesimulationsofthecureparticlesthatweneed.Theyattachtotheoutsideoftheinfectedcell.”Hetapsthescreentwicewherethelargecellis,andashortanimationplays,showingtheparticleslatchingontothecell;eventually,thecellshrinksinsizeandthecolorofitchanges.“Theysavethecellfrombursting.”

Myeyesshiftovertothecomparisonontheright,whichalsohasasimilarlyinfectedcellsurroundedbylittleparticles.Thistime,Idon’tseeanytubesfor

theparticlestoattachto.“Thisiswhat’sactuallyhappening,”thelabtechexplains.“We’remissingsomethingfromourcureparticlesthatcanattachtothecell’sreceptors.Ifwedon’tdevelopthat,therestoftheparticlescan’twork.Thecellcan’tcomeindirectcontactwiththemedicine,andthecelldies.”

IcrossmyarmsandexchangeafrownwithDay,whoshrugshelplessly.“Howcanwefigureoutthemissingpiece?”

“That’sthething.Ourguessisthatthisparticularattachingfeaturewasn’tapartoftheoriginalvirus.Inotherwords,someonespecificallyalteredthisvirus.Wecanseetracesofthatmarkeronitwhenwelabelthecell.”Hepointstotinyglowingdotsscatteredacrossthecell’ssurface.“Thismightmean,Ms.Iparis,thattheColoniesactuallyphysicallyalteredthisvirus.TheRepubliccertainlyhasnorecordsoftamperingwiththisoneinthisspecificfashion.”

“Waitaminute,”Dayinterrupts.“Thisisnewstome.AreyousayingthattheColoniescreatedthisplague?”

Thelabtechgivesusagrimlook,thenreturnstothescreen.“Possibly.Here’sthecuriousthing,though.Wethinkthisadditionalpiece—theattachingfeature—originallycameoutoftheRepublic.There’sasimilarvirusthatcameoutofasmallColoradotown.ButthetracerstellusthatthealteredviruscameoutofTribuneCity,whichisawarfrontcityontheColoniesside.Sosomewherealongthatline,Eden’svirussomehowcameincontactwithsomethingelseinTribuneCity.”

Thisiswhenthepiecesofthepuzzlefinallyfallintoplaceforme.Thecolordrainsfrommyface.TribuneCity:thecitythatDayandIhadoriginallystumbledintowhenwefirstfledintotheColonies.IthinkbacktowhenI’dgottenillduringmyarrestintheRepublic,howsickandfeverishI’dbeenwhenDaycarriedusthroughthatundergroundtunnelfromLamarallthewayintotheColonies’territory.I’dbeeninaColonieshospitalforanight.They’dinjectedmedicineintome,butIneverconsideredthefactthattheymighthavebeenusingmeforadifferentpurpose.HadIbeenapartofanexperimentwithoutevenrealizingit?AmItheoneholdingthemissingpieceofthepuzzleinmybloodstream?

“It’sme,”Iwhisper,cuttingthelabtechshort.BothheandDaygivemeastartledlook.

“Whatdoyoumean?”thelabtechasks,butDaystayssilent.Alookofrealizationwashesoverhisface.

“It’sme,”Irepeat.TheanswerissoclearthatIcanhardlybreathe.“IwasinTribuneCityeightmonthsago.I’dgottenillwhileunderarrestinColorado.If

thisothervirusyou’retalkingaboutoriginatedfirstintheRepublicandthencamebackfromTribuneCityintheColonies,thenit’spossiblethattheanswertoyourpuzzleisme.”

JUNE’STHEORYCHANGESEVERYTHING.Immediatelyshejoinsthelabteaminaseparatehospitalroom,where

theystrapseveraltubesandwirestoherandtakeasampleofherbonemarrow.Theyrunaseriesofscansthatleaveherlookingnauseous,scansI’vealreadyseenbeingrunonEden.IwishIcouldstay.Eden’stestsareover,thankfully,buttheriskhasnowshiftedtoJune,andinthismomentallIwanttodoisstayhereandmakesureeverythinggoessmoothly.

Forchrissakes,Itellmyselfangrily,it’snotlikeyoubeinghereisgoingtohelpanything.ButwhenPascaofinallyushersusoutthedoorandoutofthehospitaltojointheothers,Ican’thelpbutglanceback.

IfJune’sbloodholdsthemissingpiece,thenwehaveachance.Wecancontaintheplague.Wecansaveeveryone.WecansaveTess.

AswetakeatrainfromthehospitaltowardBatalla’sairshipbaseswithseveralRepublicsoldiersintow,thesethoughtsbuildinmychestuntilIcanbarelystandtowaitaround.Pascaonoticesmyrestlessnessandgrins.“Youeverbeentothebasesbefore?Iseemtorecallyoudoingafewstuntsthere.”

Hiswordstriggersomememories.WhenIturnedfourteen,IbrokeintotwoLosAngelesairshipsthatweresettoheadoutforthewarfront.Igotin—notunlikemystuntwiththePatriotsbackinVegas—bysneakinginthroughtheventilationsystem,andthennavigatingtheentireshipundetectedbyweavingmywaythroughtheirendlessairvents.Iwasstillhalfwaythroughmygrowthspurtbackthen;mybodywasthinnerandsmaller,andIhadnotroublesqueezingmywaythroughtheirmyriadoftunnels.Onceinside,IstoleasmuchcannedfoodfromtheirkitchensasIcould,thensetfiresintheirengineroomsthatdestroyedtheshipsenoughtoultimatelycripplethemfromservingtheRepublicforyears,maybeforever.ItwasthisparticularstuntthatfirstlandedmeontopoftheRepublic’smostwantedlist.Nottoobadajob,ifIdosaysomyself.

NowIthinkbackonthebases’layouts.Asidefromsomeairshipbasesin

Batallasector,thefourmainnavalbasesinLAoccupyathinstripoflandalongthecity’swestcoastlinethatsitsbetweenourenormouslakeandthePacificOcean.Ourbattleshipsstaythere,unusedforthemostpart.ButthereasonthatthePatriotsandIheadtherenowisthatallofLA’sairshipdocksaretheretoo,andit’swheretheColonieswilldocktheirairshipsif—when—theytrytooccupythecityafteroursurrender.

It’sthethirdandfinaldayoftheColonies’promisedceasefire.Asthetrainspeedsthroughthesectors,IcanseegroupsofcivilianscrowdingaroundJumboTronsthatarenowrunningAnden’ssurrendernoticeonrepeat.Mostlookstrickenwithshock,clingingtooneanother.Othersarefurious—theythrowshoes,crowbars,androcksupatthescreensandrageagainsttheirElector’sbetrayal.Good.Stayangry,usethatangeragainsttheColonies.Ineedtoplayoutmypartsoon.

“Allright,kids,listenup,”Pascaosaysasourtrainnearsthebridgesleadingtothenavalbases.Heholdsouthispalmstoshowusaseriesofsmall,metaldevices.“Remember,sixperdock.”Hepointstoasmallredtriggerinthecenterofeachdevice.“Wewantclean,containedexplosions,andthesoldiers’llpointoutthebestspotsforustoplantthesethings.Ifdoneright,we’llbeabletocrippleanyColoniesairshipusingourlandingdocks,andanairshipwithamessed-uplandingbayisuseless.Yeah?”Hegrins.“Atthesametime,let’snotscrewupthelandingdockstoomuch.Sixperdock.”

Ilookawayandbackoutthewindow,wherethefirstnavalbasedrawsnearonthehorizon.Enormouspyramidlandingbasesloominarow,darkandimposing,andIinstantlythinkofthefirsttimeI’dseentheminVegas.Mystomachtwistsuneasily.Ifthisplanfails,ifwe’reunabletoholdtheColoniesbackandtheAntarcticansnevercometoourrescue,ifJuneisn’twhatweneedforthecure—whatwillhappentous?WhatwillhappenwhentheColoniesfinallygettheirhandsonAnden,orJune,ormyself?Ishakemyhead,forcingtheimagesoutofmymind.There’snotimetoworryaboutthat.It’lleitherhappenoritwon’t.We’vealreadychosenourcourse.

WhenwearriveatthefirstlandingdockofNavalBaseOne,Icanseeenoughoftheinnercitytonoticethetiny,darkspecksinthesky.Coloniestroops—airships,jets,something—arehoveringnotfarfromtheoutskirtsofLosAngeles,preparingtostrike.Alow,monotonoushumfillstheair—guesswecanalreadyheartheirships’steadyapproach.MyeyesturnuptowardtheJumboTronsliningthestreets.Anden’sannouncementcontinues

on,accompaniedwithabrightredSeekCoverwarningrunningalongthebottomofeachscreen.

FourRepublicsoldiersjoinupwithusaswehurryoutofthejeepandinsidethepyramidbase.Ikeepclosetothemastheyusherusuptheelevatorstowardtheloominginnerroofofthebase,whereairshipstakeoffanddockon.Allaroundusisthedeafeningsoundofsoldiers’bootsonechoingfloors,rushingtotheirstationsandpreparingtotakeoffagainsttheColonies.IwonderhowmanytroopsAndenhadbeenforcedtosendofftoDenverorVegasforreinforcement,andIcanonlyhopethatwehaveenoughleftbehindtoprotectus.

Thisisn’tVegas,Iremindmyself,tryingnottothinkaboutthetimewhenI’dletmyselfgetarrested.Butitdoesn’thelp.Bythetimewe’veriddenourwayuptothetopofthebaseandclimbedaflightofstairsuptotheopentopofthepyramid,myheart’spoundingupastormthat’snotallbecauseoftheexercise.Well,ifthisdoesn’tbringbackmemoriesofwhenI’dfirststartedworkingforthePatriots.Ican’tstopstudyingthemetalbeamscrisscrossingtheinteriorunderbellyofthebase,allthelittleinterlockingpartsthatwillbindwithanairshiponceitlands.ThedarksuitI’mwearingfeelsaslightasair.Timetoplantsomebombs.

“Doyouseethosebeams?”oneRepubliccaptainsaystoPascaoandme,pointinguptotheshadowsoftheceilingatone,two,threecrevicesthatlookparticularlydifficulttoreach.“Maxdamagetotheship,minimaldamagetothebase.We’llhaveyoutwohitthosethreespotsateachofthebases.We’dbeabletogettothemourselvesifwesetupourcranes,butwedon’thavetimeforthat.”Hepausestogiveusaforcedsmile.Mostofthesegoddysoldiersstilldon’tseementirelycomfortableworkingalongsideus.“Well,”hesaysafteranawkwardpause,“doesthatlookdoable?Areyouguysfastenough?”

Iwanttosnapatthecaptainthathe’sforgottenmyreputation,butPascaostopsmebylettingoutoneofhisloud,sparklinglaughs.“Youdon’thaveenoughfaithinus,doyou?”hesays,nudgingthecaptainplayfullyintheribsandsmirkingattheindignantblushthathegetsback.

“Good,”thecaptainrepliesstifflybeforemovingonwiththeotherPatriotsandhisownpatrol.“Hurry.Wedon’thavelong.”Heleavesustoourwork,thenstartsdictatingbomb-plantingspotstotheothers.

Oncehe’sgone,Pascaodropshisgiantgrinandconcentratesonthecrevicesthatthecaptainhadpointedout.“Noteasytoreach,”hemutters.

“Yousureyou’reupforthis?Youstrongenough,seeingashowyou’redyingandall?”

Icasthimawitheringglare,thenstudyeachofthecrevicesinturn.Itestmykneesandelbows,tryingtogaugehowmuchstrengthIhave.Pascao’sabittallerthanme—he’llbeabletohandlethefirsttwocrevicesbest,butthethirdcreviceiswedgedinsuchatightpositionthatIknowonlyIcangettoit.Icanalsoseerightawaywhythecaptainpointedthatspotout.Evenifwedidn’tplantsixbombsalongthissideofthebase,we’dprobablydisableanyairshipwithasinglebombonthatlocation.Ipointtoit.

“I’lltakethatone,”Isay.“Yousure?”Pascaosquintsatit.“Idon’twanttowatchyoufalltoyour

deathonourveryfirstbase.”Hiswordscoaxasarcasticsmileoutofme.“Don’tyouhaveanyfaithin

meatall?”Pascaosmirks.“Alittle.”Wegettowork.Itakeaflyingleapfromthestairs’ledgetotheclosest

crisscrossingbeam,andthenweavemyselfseamlesslyintothemazeofmetal.Whatafeelingofdéjàvu.Thespringsembeddedinmysuit’sjointstakealittlegettingusedto—butafterafewjumpsIgrowintothem.I’mfast.Reallyfastwiththeirhelp.Inthespanoftenminutes,I’vecrossedaquarterofthebase’sceilingandamnowwithinstrikingdistanceofthatcrevice.Thintricklesofsweatrundownmyneck,andmyheadpulseswithfamiliarpain.Below,soldierspausetowatchusevenasallofthebase’selectronictickerscontinuetorunthesurrendernotice.Theyhavenogoddycluewhatwe’redoing.

Ipauseatthefinalleap,thenmakemyjump.Mybodyhitsthecreviceandslidessnuglyin.InstantlyIpulloutthetinybomb,openitsclip,andplantitfirmlyintoplace.Myheadachemakesmedizzy,butIforceitaway.

Done.Islowlymakemywaybackalongthebeams.BythetimeIswingdown

ontothestairsagain,myheart’spoundingfromadrenaline.IspotPascaoalongthebeamsandgivehimaquickthumbs-up.

Thisistheeasystuff,Iremindmyself,myexcitementgivingwaytoanominousanxiety.Thehardpart’sgoingtobepullingoffaconvincinglietotheChancellor.

Wefinishwiththefirstbase,thenmoveontothenext.Bythetimewe’re

donewiththefourthbase,mystrengthisstartingtogiveway.IfIwasfullyinmyelement,thissuitcould’vemademedamnnearunstoppable—butnow,evenwithitshelp,mymusclesacheandmybreathssoundstrained.Asthesoldiersnowguidemeintoaroomintheairbaseandpreparemetomakemycallandmybroadcast,I’msilentlygratefulthatIdon’tneedtorunanymoreceilings.

“WhathappensiftheChancellordoesn’tbuyyou?”Pascaoaskswhilethesoldiersfileoutoftheroom.“Nooffense,prettyboy,butyoudon’texactlyhavethebestreputationforkeepingyourpromises.”

“Ididn’tpromisehimanything,”Ireply.“Besides,he’llseemyannouncementgoouttotheentireRepublic.He’sgoingtothinkthateveryoneinthecountrywillseemeswitchallegiancestotheColonies.Itwon’tlast.Butit’llbuyussometime.”Silently,IhopetohellthatwecanfigureoutthefinalcurebeforetheColoniesrealizewhatwe’redoing.

Pascaolooksawayandouttheroom’swindow,wherewecanseeRepublicsoldiersfinishingupthelastfewbombplacementsonthebase’sceiling.Ifthisfails,oriftheColoniesrealizethesurrender’sfakebeforewehavetimetodoanythingaboutit,thenwe’reprobablydone.

“Timeforyoutomakeyourcall,then,”Pascaomutters.Helocksthedoor,findsachair,andpullsitofftoonecorner.Thenhesettlesdownwithmetowait.

MyhandstrembleslightlyasIclickmymikeonandcalltheColonies’Chancellor.Foramoment,allIhearisstatic,andapartofmehopesthatitsomehowcan’ttracethenamethathadcalledmebefore,andthatsomehowI’llhavenowayofreachinghim.Butthenthestaticends,thecallclears,andIhearitconnect.IgreettheChancellor.

“ThisisDay.Todayisthelastdayofyourpromisedceasefire,yeah?AndIhaveananswertoyourrequest.”

Afewsecondsdragby.Then,thatcrisp,businesslikevoicecomesontheotherend.“Mr.Wing,”theChancellorsays,aspoliteandpleasantasever.“Rightontime.Howlovelytohearfromyou.”

“I’msureyou’veseentheElector’sannouncementbynow,”Ireply,ignoringhisniceties.

“Ihave,indeed,”themanreplies.Ihearsomeshufflingofpapersinthebackground.“Andnowwithyourcall,thisdayislookingtobefullofgoodsurprises.I’dbeenwonderingwhenyouwouldcontactusagain.Tellme,Daniel,haveyougivensomethoughttomyproposal?”

Fromacrosstheroom,Pascao’spaleeyeslockontomine.Hecan’theartheconversation,buthecanseethetensiononmyface.“Ihave,”Ireplyafterapause.Gottamakemyselfsoundrealisticandreluctant,yeah?IwonderifJunewouldapprove.

“Andwhathaveyoudecided?Remember,thisisentirelyuptoyou.Iwon’tforceyoutodoanythingyoudon’twishtodo.”

Yeah.Idon’thavetodoanything—I’lljusthavetostandbyandwatchwhileyoudestroythepeopleIlove.“I’lldoit.”Anotherpause.“TheRepublic’salreadysurrendered.Thepeoplearen’thappyaboutyourpresence,butIdon’twanttoseethemharmed.Idon’twanttoseeanyoneharmed.”IknowIdon’thavetomentionJunebynamefortheChancellortounderstand.“I’llmakeacitywideannouncement.WegotaccesstotheJumboTronsthroughthePatriots.Itwon’tbelongbeforethatannouncementhitsallthescreensintheentireRepublic.”Ikickinalittlemoreattitudetokeepmylieauthentic.“ThatgoodenoughforyoutokeepyourgoddyhandsoffJune?”

TheChancellorclapshishandsonce.“Done.Ifyou’rewillingtobecomeour...spokesman,sotospeak,thenIassureyouthatMs.Ipariswillbesparedthetrialsandexecutionsthatcomewithanoverturningofpower.”

Hiswordssendachillthroughme,remindingmethatifwedofail,thenwhatI’mgoingtodoisn’tgoingtosaveAnden’slife.Infact,ifwefail,theChancellorwillprobablyfigureoutthatI’mbehindallthistoo,andtheregoesJune’s...andprobablyEden’s...chancesatsafety.Iclearmythroat.Acrosstheroom,Pascao’sfacehasturnedstonywithtension.“Andmybrother?”

“Youneednotworryaboutyourbrother.AsImentionedtoyoubefore,Iamnotatyrant.Iwillnothookhimuptoamachineandpumphimfullofchemicalsandpoisons—Iwillnotexperimentonhim.He—andyou—willliveacomfortable,safelife,freefromharmandworry.This,Icanguaranteeyou.”TheChancellor’stonechangestowhathethinksissoothingandgentle.“Icanheartheunhappinessinyourvoice.ButIdonothingexceptwhatisnecessary.IfyourElectorimprisonedme,hewouldnothesitatetoexecuteme.Thisisthewayoftheworld.Iamnotacruelman,Daniel.Remember,theColoniesarenotresponsibleforyourlifetimeofsuffering.”

“Don’tcallmeDaniel.”Myvoicecomesoutlowandquiet.IamnotDanieltoanyoneoutsideofmyfamily.IamDay.Plainandsimple.

“Myapologies.”Heactuallysoundsgenuinelysorry.“IhopeyouunderstandwhatI’msaying,Day.”

Iremainsilentforamoment.Evennow,IcanstillfeelthepullagainsttheRepublic,allofthedarkthoughtsandmemoriesthatwhispertometoturnmyback,toletitallcrumbletopieces.TheChancellorcangaugemebetterthanIwould’vethought.Alifetimeofsufferingishardtoleavebehind.AsifshecansensethedangerouspulloftheChancellor’sspell,IhearJune’svoicecutthroughthistrainofthoughtsandwhispersomethingtome.Iclosemyeyesandclingtoher,drawingstrengthfromher.

“Tellmewhenyouwantmetomakethisannouncement,”Isayafterawhile.“Everything’swiredupandreadytogo.Let’sgetthiswholethingoverwith.”

“Wonderful.”TheChancellorclearshisthroat,suddenlysoundinglikeabusinessmanagain.“Thesooner,thebetter.IwilllandwithmytroopsattheouternavalbasesofLosAngelesbyearlyafternoon.Let’sarrangeforyoutospeakatthattime.Shallwe?”

“Done.”“Andonemorething,”theChancelloraddsasI’mabouttohangup.I

stiffen,mytonguepoisedtoclickmymikeoff.“BeforeIforget.”“What?”“Iwantyoutomaketheannouncementfromthedeckofmyairship.”Startled,IglanceatPascao,andeventhoughhehasnoideawhatthe

Chancellorjustsaid,hefrownsatthewaymyfacehasjustdrainedofcolor.FromtheChancellor’sairship?Ofcourse.Howcouldwethinkhe’dbethateasytofool?He’stakingprecautions.Ifsomethinggoeswrongduringtheannouncement,thenhe’llhavemeinhisgrip.IfImakeanannouncementthat’sanythingotherthantellingtheRepublicpeopletobowdowntotheColonies,hecouldkillmerightthereontheairship’sdeck,surroundedbyhismen.

WhentheChancellorspeaksagain,Icansensethesatisfactioninhisvoice.Heknowsexactlywhathe’sdoing.“YourwordswillbemoremeaningfulifgivenrightfromaColoniesairship,don’tyouagree?”hesays.Heclapshishandsonceagain.“We’llexpectyouatNavalBaseOneinafewhours.Lookingforwardtomeetingyouinperson,Day.”

THEREVELATIONABOUTMYCONNECTIONTOTHISPLAGUEchangesallofmyplans.

InsteadofheadingoutwiththePatriotsandhelpingDaysetuptheairshipbases,Istaybehindatthehospital,lettingthelabteamshookmeuptomachinesandrunaseriesoftestsonme.Mydaggersandgunlieonanearbydresser,sothattheywon’tgetinthewayofallthewires,andonlyoneknifestaystuckedalongmyboot.Edensitsinbedbesideme,hisskinsicklypale.Severalhoursin,andthenauseahasbeguntohit.

“Thefirstday’stheworst,”Edensaystomewithanencouragingsmile.Hespeaksslowly,likelyfromthemedicationthelabteamgavehimtohelphimsleep.“Itgetsbetter.”Heleansoverandpatsmyhand,andIfindmyselfwarmingtohisinnocentcompassion.ThismustbewhatDaywaslikewhenhewasyoung.

“Thanks,”Ireply.Idon’tspeaktherestofmythoughtsaloud,butIcannotbelievethatachildlikeEdenwasabletotoleratethissortoftestingfordays.HadIknown,ImighthavedonewhatDayoriginallywantedandrefusedAnden’srequestaltogether.

“Whathappensiftheyfindoutthatyoumatch?”Edenasksafterawhile.Hiseyeshavestartedtodroop,andhisquestioncomesoutslurred.

Whathappens,indeed?Wehaveacure.WecanpresenttheresultstoAntarcticaandprovetothemthattheColoniesdeliberatelyusedthisvirus;wecanpresentittotheUnitedNationsandforcetheColoniesback.We’llhaveourportsopenedupagain.“TheAntarcticanspromisethathelpisontheway,”Idecidetosay.“Wemightwin.Justmaybe.”

“ButtheColoniesarealreadyatourdoorstep.”Edenglancestowardthewindows,whereourenemy’sairshipsarenowdottingthesky.Somehavealreadydockedatourbases,whileothersloomoverhead.AshadowcastacrossourownBankTowerbuildingtellsmethatoneishoveringoverusrightnow.

“WhatifDanielfails?”hewhispers,fightingbacksleep.“Wejusthavetoplayitallcarefully.”ButEden’swordsmakemygaze

lingeronthecityscapetoo.WhatifDaydoesfail?Hetoldmeasheleftthathewouldcontactusbeforehisbroadcasttothepublic.Now,seeinghowclosetheColonies’airshipsare,IfeelanoverwhelmingsenseoffrustrationthatIcan’tbeouttherewiththem.WhatiftheColoniesrealizethattheairshipbasesareallrigged?Whatiftheydon’tcomeback?

Anotherhourpasses.WhileEdenfallsintoadeepslumber,Istayawakeandtrytowillawaythenausearollingovermeinwaves.Ikeepmyeyesclosed.Itseemstohelp.

Imusthavefallenasleep,becausesuddenlyI’mawakenedbythesoundofourdooropening.Thelabtechshavefinallyreturned.“Ms.Iparis,”oneofthemsays,adjustinghisMIKHAELnametag.“Itwasn’taperfectmatch,butitwasclose—closeenoughthatwewereabletodevelopasolution.We’retestingthecureonTessnow.”He’sunabletokeepagrinfromcrossinghisface.“Youwerethemissingpiece.Rightunderournoses.”

Istareathimwithoutsayingaword.WecansendresultstoAntarctica—thethoughtrushesthroughmymind.Wecanaskforhelp.Wecanstoptheplague’sspread.WehaveachanceagainsttheColonies.

Mikhael’scompanionsstartunhookingmefrommytangleofwires,andthenhelpmetomyfeet.Ifeelstrongenough,buttheroomstillsways.I’mnotsurewhethermyunsteadinessisfromthetests’sideeffectsorthethoughtthatthismightallhaveworked.“IwanttoseeTess,”Isayaswestartheadingforthedoor.“Howquicklywillthecurestartworking?”

“We’renotsure,”Mikhaeladmitsasweenteralonghall.“Butoursimulationsaresolid,andweranseverallabcultureswithinfectedcells.WeshouldstartseeingTess’shealthimproveverysoon.”

WestopatthelongglasswindowsofTess’sroom.Sheliesinadelirioushalfsleeponherbed,andallaroundherarelabtechsrushingaboutinfullsuits,monitorsdictatinghervitalsigns,chartsandgraphsbeamedagainstthewalls.AnIV’sinjectedintooneofherarms.Istudyherface,searchingforsomesignofconsciousness,andfailtofindit.

Staticinmyearpiece.Anincomingcall.Ifrown,pressahandtomyear,andthenclickmymikeon.Asecondlater,IhearDay’svoice.“Areyouokay?”Hisfirstthought.Ofcourseitis.ThestaticissoseverethatIcanhardlyunderstandwhathe’ssaying.

“I’mfine,”Ireply,hopinghecanhearme.“Day,listentome—we’vefound

acure.”Noreply,juststatic,loudandunrelenting.“Day?”Isayagain,andonthe

othersideIhearsomecrackling,somethinglikethedesperationtocommunicatewithme.ButIcan’tgetushookedup.Unusual.Thereceptiononthesemilitarybandsisusuallycrystalclear.It’sasifsomethingelseisblockingallofourfrequencies.“Day?”Itryagain.

Ifinallycatchhisvoiceagain.Itholdsatensionthatremindsmeofwhenhe’dchosentowalkawayfrommesomanymonthsago.Itsendsariverofdreadthroughmyveins.“I’mgiving—announcementonboardaColoniesairship—ellorwon’thaveitanyotherway—”

OnboardaColoniesairship.TheChancellorwouldholdallthecardsinthatcase—ifDayweretomakeasuddenmove,ormakeanannouncementthatwentagainstwhattheyagreedto,theChancellorcouldhavehimarrestedormurderedrightonthespot.“Don’tdoit,”Iwhisperautomatically.“Youdon’thavetogo.We’vefoundthecure,Iwasthemissingpieceofthepuzzle.”

“—June?—”Thennoanswer,justmorestatic.ItryagaintwicemorebeforeIclickmy

mikeoffinfrustration.Besideme,Icanseethelabtechalsotryinginvaintomakeacall.

AndthenIremembertheshadowcastacrossthebuildingwe’rein.Myfrustrationfadesimmediately,followedbywavesofterrorandcomprehension.Ohno.TheColonies.They’reblockingourfrequencies—they’vetakenthemover.Ihadnotthoughtthattheywouldmaketheirmovesoquickly.IrushovertothewindowlookingoutatLosAngeles’scityscape,thenturnmyeyesskyward.IcanseetheenormousColoniesairshipthathoversoverhead—andwhenIlookmoreclosely,Inoticethatsmallerplanesareleavingitsdeckandcirclinglower.

Mikhaeljoinsme.“Wecan’treachtheElector,”hesays.“Itseemsallthefrequenciesarejammed.”

IsthisinpreparationforDay’sannouncement?He’sintrouble.Iknowit.Justasthisthoughtcrossesmymind,thedoorsattheendofthehallswing

open.Fivesoldierscomemarchingin,theirgunshoisted,andinaflashIcanseethatthesearenotRepublicsoldiersatall—butColoniestroops,withtheirnavybluecoatsandgoldstars.Panicrushesthroughmefromheadtotoe.InstinctivelyImovetowardEden’sroom,butthesoldiersseeme.Theirleaderwaveshisgunatme.Myhandfliestomygunstrappedtomywaist—andthenIrememberthatallofmyweapons(saveforoneankleknife)arelyinguseless

backinEden’sroom.“WiththeRepublic’ssurrender,”hesaysinagrandiosevoice,“allreinsof

powerhavebeentransferredtoColonies’officials.Thisisyourcommandertellingyoutostandasideandletuspass,sothatwecanrunathoroughsearch.”

Mikhaelthrowsuphishandsanddoesastheofficialsays.Theydrawcloser.Memorieswhirlinmymind—they’realllessonsfrommydaysatDrake,astreamofmaneuversthatrunthroughmyheadatthespeedoflight.Igaugethemcarefully.Asmallteamsentupheretoaccomplishsomespecifictask.Otherteamsmustbeswarmingeachofthefloors,butIknowthesesoldiersmusthavebeensentuptousforsomethinginparticular.Ibracemyself,readyforafight.It’smethey’reafter.

Asifhereadmymind,Mikhaelnodsonceatthesoldiers.Hisarmsstayuphighintheair.“Whatdoyouwant?”

Thesoldieranswers,“AboynamedEdenBataarWing.”IknowbetterthantosuckinmybreathandthusgiveawaythatEden’son

thisfloor—butatidalwaveoffearwashesoverme.Iwaswrong.They’renotafterme.TheywantDay’sbrother.IfDay’sforcedtogivehisannouncementonboardtheChancellor’sairship,alone,he’llbehelplessiftheChancellordecidestotakehimhostage—andifhegetshishandsonEden,he’llbeabletocontrolDayathiseverywhim.Mythoughtsrushevenfurther.IftheColoniestrulysucceedintakingovertheRepublictoday,thentheChancellorcoulduseDayindefinitelyashisownweapon,asamanipulatoroftheRepublic’speople,foraslongasthepeoplecontinuetobelieveinDayastheirhero.

IopenmymouthbeforeMikhaelcan.“Thisfloorjusthousesplaguevictims,”Isaytothesoldier.“Ifyou’relookingforDay’sbrother,he’llbeonahigherfloor.”

Thesoldier’sgunswivelstome.Henarrowshiseyesinrecognition.“You’rethePrinceps-Elect,”hesays.“Aren’tyou?JuneIparis.”

Iliftmychin.“OneofthePrinceps-Elects,yes.”Foramoment,IthinkhemightbelievewhatIsaidaboutEden.Someofhis

menevenstartshiftingbacktowardthestairs.Thesoldierwatchesmeforalongtime,studyingmyeyes,andthenlooksdownthehallwaybehindme,whereEden’sroomlies.Idon’tdareflinch.

Hefrownsatme.“Iknowyourreputation.”BeforeIcanthinkofanythingelsetosayinordertothrowhimoff,hetiltshisheadathistroopsanduseshisguntogestureatthehall.“Doathoroughsearch.Theboyshouldbeonthisfloor.”

Toolatetolienow.IfIoweDayanything,Iowehimthis.Ishiftintothespacebetweenthesoldiersandthehallway.Calculationsrushthroughmyhead.(Thehallwayisalittleoverfourfeetwide—ifImoveintoit,Icanpreventthesoldiersfromattackingmeallatonceandbreakupmyopponentsintotwosmallerwavesinsteadofonelargeone.)“YourChancellorwon’twantmedead,”Ilie.Myheartpoundsfuriously.Besideme,thelabtechlooksonwithstrickeneyes,unsureofwhattodo.“He’llwantmealive,andtried.Youknowthis.”

“Suchbigliesoutofsuchasmallmouth.”Thesoldierhoistshisgun.Iholdmybreath.“Moveoutoftheway,orIshoot.”

IfIdidn’tseethehintofhesitationonhisface,Iwould’vedoneasheasked.NousetoDayorEdenifI’mjustdeadandgunneddown.Butthesoldier’sflashofuncertaintyisallIneed.Iholdmyarmsupslowlyandcarefully.Myeyesstayfixedonhim.“Youdon’twanttoshootme,”Isay.I’mshockedathowfirmmyvoicesounds—notarippleoffearinit,despitetheadrenalinerushingthroughmyveins.Mylegsswayalittle,stillatouchunsteadyfromtheexperiments.“YourChancellordoesn’tsoundlikeaforgivingman.”

Thesoldierhesitatesagain.Hedoesn’tknowwhattheChancellorhasinmindforme.Hehastogivemethebenefitofthedoubt.

Weholdourstandoffforseverallongseconds.Finallyhespitsoutacurseandlowershisgun.“Gether,”hesnapsathis

soldiers.“Don’tshoot.”Theworldzoomsinatme—everythingfades,exceptfortheenemy.My

instinctskickintooverdrive.Let’splay.Youhavenoideawhoyou’redealingwith.Icrouchintoafightingstanceasthesoldiersrushatmeallatonce.The

narrownessofthehallwayworksinstantlytomyadvantage—insteadofdealingwithfivesoldiersatthesametime,Ionlydealwithtwo.Iduckthefirstsoldier’sswing,ripmyknifeoutfrommyboot,andslashhiscalfasviciouslyasIcan.Thebladetearseffortlesslythroughbothhispantlegandhistendon.Heshrieks.Instantlyhislegbuckles,takinghimtothefloorinathrashingheap.Thesecondsoldierrushingatmetripsrightoverhisfallingcomrade.Ikickoutatthesecondsoldier’sface,knockinghimout,andstepofffromhisbacktolungeatthethirdsoldier.Hetriestopunchme.Iblockhisblowwithonearm—myotherhandshootsuptowardhisfaceandsmashesintohisnosesohardthatIfeelthecrunchofbreakingbone.Thesoldierstaggersbackwardonceandfalls,clutchinghisfaceinagony.

Threedown.

Myadvantageofsurprisevanishes—thelasttwosoldierstakemeonmorewarily.Oneofthemshoutsintohismikeforbackup.Behindthem,Mikhaelstartssneakingaway.EventhoughIdon’tdareglanceinhisdirection,Iknowthathemustbemovingtolockdownthecorridorsinthestairwell,makingitimpossibleformoreColoniessoldierstocomeswarmingup.Oneoftheremainingsoldiersliftshisgunandpointsitatmylegs.Ikickoutathim.Myboothitsthebarrelofhisgunrightashefiresit,sendingabulletricochetingwildlyovermyshoulder.Analarmblaresacrosstheentirebuilding’sintercoms—thestairwellsarelockeddown,analert’sbeensentout.Ikickthegunagainsothatitarcsbackward,hittingthesoldierhardintheface.Itstunshimmomentarily.Ispinandstrikehimhardinthejawwithmyelbow—

—butthensomethinghitsmehardinthebackofmyhead.Starsexplodeacrossmyvision.Istumble,fallingtooneknee,andstruggletoswimupthroughmyblindness.Thesecondsoldiermust’vestruckmefrombehind.Iswingoutagain,tryingmybesttoguessatwherethesoldieris,butImissandfallagain.Throughmyhazyvision,Iseethesoldierraisethebuttofhisguntostrikemeagainintheface.Theblowwillknockmeunconscious.Itryinvaintorollaway.

Thestrikedoesn’tcome.Iblink,strugglingtomyfeet.Whathappened?Whenmyvisionclearsabit,Inoticethelastsoldierlyingonthegroundandlabtechsrushingovertotietheirhandsandfeet.Suddenlytherearepeopleeverywhere.StandingovermeisTess,paleandsicklyandbreathinghard,clutchingariflefromoneoftheotherfallensoldiers.Ihadnotnoticedherleavingherroom.

Shemanagesaweaksmile.“You’rewelcome,”shesays,extendingahandtohelpmeup.

Ismileback.Shepullsme,trembling,tomyfeet.WhenIswayonuncertainlegs,sheoffersmehershouldertoleanon.Neitherofusisverysteady,butwedon’tfall.

“Ms.Iparis,”Mikhaelgaspsoutashehurriesovertous.“We’vemanagedtoreachtheElector—we’vetoldhimaboutthecure.ButwealsojustreceivedawarningtoevacuatetheBankTower.TheysaythefakesurrenderwillendverysoonandthatoneoftheColonies’firsttargetsofretaliationwillbe—”

Ashuddershakesthehospital.Weallfreezewhereweare.Iglanceatthehorizon—atfirsttheshudderfeltabitlikeanearthquake,ortherumbleofapassingairship,buttheshakingissetoffinshort,regularintervalsinsteadofthesharprollofaseismicwaveorthelow,steadyhumofairships—andaninstantlater,Irealizethattheairshipbases’bombsmusthavebegungoingoff.Irunto

thewindowwithTess,wherewelookonasbrightplumesoforangeandgraybillowupfromthebasesliningthehorizon.Panictakesholdofme.Daymusthavemadehisannouncement.Whetherornothesurvivedit,Ihavenoidea.

Thephonysurrender’sover;theceasefirehasended.ThefinalfightfortheRepublichasbegun.

WHENIWASFIFTEEN,IBROKEINTOABANKINLOSANGELESafterguardsstandingatitsbackentrancedidn’tbelieveIcoulddoitintenseconds.Thenightbefore,Ihadmadeadetailedmentalchecklistofthelayoutofthatbank,notingeveryfootholdandwindowandledge,andguesstimatedeveryfloorinside.Iwaiteduntilitsguardsrotatedatmidnight,andthenIsnuckintothebuilding’sbasement.There,Isetatinyexplosiveonthevault’slock.TherewasnowayIcouldbreakinatnightwithouttriggeringtheiralarms...butthenextmorning,whenguardsheadeddowntothevaulttocheckontheinventory,mostofthelaser-guidedalarmsthroughoutthebuildingwouldbeoff.Itimedmyentrancethenextdaytocoincide.AsItauntedtheguardsatthebank’sbackentrance,theguardsinsidethebankwereopeningthevaultdoor.Andtheexplosivewentoff.Atthesametime,Ileapedthroughthebank’ssecondfloorwindow,thendownthesteps,thenintothevaultthroughsmokeanddust,andmademywayoutofthebuildingbyhookingthebank’swaitinglinechainstomyselfandswingingoutofthetopfloor.Youshould’veseenme.

Now,asIwalkstraightuptheinnerrampsofapyramiddockandtowardtheentranceofmyveryfirstColoniesairship,flankedonbothsidesbyColoniessoldiers,Irunthroughmyoldbankstuntandfeelanoverwhelmingurgetoflee.Toswingontothesideoftheship,losethetroopstailingme,andweaveintoitsvents.Myeyessweeptheshipandtrytomapoutthebestescaperoutes,theclosesthidingplaces,andmostconvenientfootholds.Walkingstraightuptoitlikethisleavesmefeelingwaytooopenandvulnerable.Still,Idon’tshowitonmyface.WhenIreachtheentranceandapairoflieutenantsushersmeinside,thenpatsmedownthoroughlyforanyweapons,Ijustsmilepolitelyatthem.IftheChancellorwantstoseemeintimidated,hemightbedisappointed.

Thesoldiersdon’tcatchthetiny,coin-sizerounddiscssewnintomyboots.Oneisarecorder.Ifthere’sanyconversationIwanttohavetouse

againsttheColonies,it’sthisone,tobeshowntotheentirepublic.Theothersaretinyexplosives.Outside,somewherebeyondtheairshipbaseandhiddeninthebuildings’shadows,arePascaoandseveralotherPatriots.

Ihopethepeoplearereadyformysignal.Ihopethey’relisteningformyfinalstep,watchingandwaiting.

It’sthefirsttimeI’vebeeninanairshipthathasnoportraitsoftheElectorhangingonitswalls.Instead,interspersedbetweenswallowtail-shapedblue-and-goldflagsareads,screensashighasthewallsthatadvertiseeverythingfromfoodtoelectronicstohouses.Igetanuncomfortablesenseofdéjàvu,recallingthetimeJuneandIhadstumbledintotheColonies,butwhenthelieutenantsglancemyway,Ijustshrugatthemandkeepmyeyesdown.Wemakeourwaythroughthecorridorsanduptwoflightsofstairsbeforetheyfinallyushermeintoalargechamber.Istandthereforamoment,unsureofwhattodonext.Thislookslikesomesortofobservationdeck,withalongglasswindowthatgivesmeaviewofLosAngeles.

Alonemanstandsbythewindow,thecity’slightpaintinghissilhouetteblack.Hewavesmeover.“Ah,you’refinallyhere!”heexclaims.InstantlyIrecognizethesmooth,coaxingvoiceoftheChancellor.HelooksnothinglikehowIpicturedhim:He’sshortandsmall,frail,hishairrecededandgray,hisvoicewaytoobigforhisbody.There’saslighthunchtohisshoulders,andhisskinlooksthinandtranslucentinsomeareas,likeit’smadeofpaperandmightcrumpleifIweretotouchit.Ican’tkeepthesurpriseoffmyface.ThisisthemanwhorulesovercorpslikeDesCon,whothreatensandbulliesanentirenationandnegotiateswithmanipulativeprecision?Alittleanticlimactic,tobehonest.IalmostwritehimoffbeforeIgetagoodlookathiseyes.

Andthat’swhereIrecognizetheChancellorI’vespokentobefore.Hiseyescalculate,analyze,anddeducemeinawaythatchillsmetothebone.Somethingisincrediblywrongaboutthem.

ThenIrealizewhy.Hiseyesaremechanical.“Well,don’tjuststandthere,”hesays.“Comeonover.Enjoytheview

withme,son.Thisiswherewe’llhaveyoumakeyourannouncement.Anicevantagepoint,isn’tit?”

Aretort—“Theview’sprobablybetterwithoutalltheColoniesairshipsintheway”—isonthetipofmytongue,butIswallowitwithsomeeffortanddoashesays.HesmilesasIstopbesidehim,andIdomybestnotto

lookintohisfalseeyes.“Well,lookatyou,allyoungandfreshfaced.”Heclapsmeontheback.

“Youdidtherightthing,youknow,cominghere.”HegazesbackatLosAngeles.“Doyouseeallthat?What’sthepointofstayingloyaltothat?You’reaColoniannow,andyouwon’thavetoputupwiththeRepublic’stwistedlawsanymore.We’lltreatyouandyourbrothersowellthatyou’llsoonwonderwhyyoueverhesitatedtojoinus.”

Fromthecornerofmyeyes,Imakenoteofpossibleescaperoutes.“What’llhappentothepeopleintheRepublic?”

TheChancellortapshislipsinadisplayofthoughtfulness.“TheSenators,unfortunately,mightbelesshappyaboutthewholething—andasfortheElectorhimself...well,youcanonlyhaveonerealrulerforonecountry,andIamalreadyhere.”Heoffersmeasmilethatbordersonkindness,astartlingcontrasttohisactualwords.“HeandIaremorealikethanyoumightthink.Wearenotcruel.Wearesimplypractical.Andyouknowhowtrickyitcanbetodealwithtraitors.”

Ashiverrunsdownmyspine.“AndthePrinceps-Elects?”Irepeat.“WhataboutthePatriots?Thiswaspartofourdeal,remember?”

TheChancellornods.“OfcourseIremember.Day,therearethingsyou’lllearnaboutpeopleandsocietywhenyougetolder.Sometimes,youjusthavetodothingsthehardway.Now,beforeyouworkyourselfupintoapanic,knowthatMs.Ipariswillbeunharmed.Wealreadyhaveplanstopardonherforyoursake,giventhatyou’llbehelpingusout.Partofourdeal,justlikeyousaid,andIdonotgobackonmyword.TheotherPrinceps-ElectswillbeexecutedalongwiththeElector.”

Executed.Soeasy,justlikethat.IgetanauseousfeelinginmystomachatthememoryofAnden’sbotchedassassination.Thistimehemightnotbesolucky.“AslongasyouspareJune,”Imanagetochokeout,“andaslongasyoudon’thurtthePatriotsormybrother.Butyoustillhaven’tansweredmyfirstquestion.WhatwillhappentothepeopleoftheRepublic?”

TheChancelloreyesme,thenleanscloser.“Tellme,Day,doyouthinkthemasseshavetherighttomakedecisionsforanentirenation?”

Iturntostareatthecity.It’salongdropfromheretothebottomofthenavalbase;I’llhavetofindawaytoslowmyselfdown.“Thelawsthataffectanentirenationwillalsoaffectthatnation’sindividuals,yeah?”Ireply,goadinghim.Ihopemyrecorder’spickingallthisup.“Soofcoursethepeoplehavearighttocontributetothosedecisions.”

TheChancellornods.“Afairanswer.Butfairnessdoesnotpowernations,Day,doesit?Ihavereadhistoriesaboutnationswhereeverypersonisgivenanequalstartinlife,whereeveryonecontributestothegreatergoodandnooneisricherorpoorerthananyoneelse.Doyouthinkthatsystemworked?”Heshakeshishead.“Notwithpeople,Day.That’ssomethingyou’lllearnwhenyougrowup.Peoplebynatureareunjust,unfair,andconniving.Youhavetobecarefulwiththem—youhavetofindawaytomakethemthinkthatyouarecateringtotheireverywhim.Themassescan’tfunctionontheirown.Theyneedhelp.Theydon’tknowwhat’sgoodforthem.AndasforwhatwillhappentothepeopleoftheRepublic?Well,Day,I’lltellyou.Thepeopleasawholewillbethrilledtobeintegratedintooursystem.Theywillknoweverythingthattheyneedtoknow,andwewillmakesuretheyareallputtogooduse.Itwillbeawell-oiledmachine.”

“Everythingtheyneedtoknow?”“Yes.”Hefoldshishandsbehindhisbackandstickshischinup.“Do

youreallybelievethatthepeoplecanmakealloftheirowndecisions?Whatafrighteningworld.Peopledon’talwaysknowwhattheyreallywant.Youshouldknowthatbetterthananyone,Day,whatwithyourannouncementsolongagoinfavoroftheElector,andwiththeannouncementyou’llgiveustoday.”Hetiltshisheadalittleashetalks.“Youdowhatyouneedtodo.”

Youdowhatyouneedtodo.EchoesofthephilosophyoftheRepublic’sownformerElector—echoesofsomethingthat,nomatterwhatcountryI’min,neverseemstochange.Onthesurface,Ijustnod,butinside,Ifeelasuddenhesitationtogothroughwithmyplan.He’sbaitingyou,Iremindmyself,lostinthestruggle.YouarenotliketheChancellor.Youfightforthepeople.

Youarefightingforsomethingreal.Aren’tyou?I’vegottogetoutofhere,beforeheworkshiswaydeeperintomymind.

Mymusclestenseup,readyfortheannouncement.Istudytheroomfrommyperipheralvision.“Well,”Isaystiffly,“let’sgetthisoverwith.”

“Moreenthusiasm,myboy,”theChancellorsays,clickinghistongueinmockdisapproval,andthengivesmeaseriouslook.“Wethoroughlyexpectyoutosellyourpointtothepeople.”

Inod.Istepforwardtowardthewindow,thenlettwosoldiershookmymikeuptobroadcastfromtheairship.Atransparent,livevideoofmesuddenlyappearsontheglass.Shiversrundownmyentirebody.Thereare

Coloniessoldiersallovertheplace,andthey’veensuredthatifIdon’tmakemymovejustright,I’llhavesentencedmyselfandmostlikelyallofmylovedonestodeath.Thisisit.Thereisnoturningbackfromhere.

“PeopleoftheRepublic,”Ibegin.“Today,IstandherewiththeChancelloroftheColonies,onboardhisveryownairship.Ihaveamessageforallofyou.”Myvoicesoundshoarse,andIhavetoclearmythroatbeforecontinuing.WhenIshiftmytoes,Icanfeelthebumpofthetwotinyexplosivesonthebottomofmyboots’soles,readyformynextmove.IhopetohellthatthemarkersthatPascao,theotherRunners,andIleftacrossthecityhavedonetheirwork,andthatthepeopleareprepared.

“We’vebeenthroughalottogether,”Icontinue.“ButfewthingshavebeenmoretryingthanthelastfewmonthsintheRepublic.Believeme,Iknow.AdjustingtoanewElector,seeingthechangesthathavecomearound...andasyouallknowbynow,Ihaven’tbeendoingsowellmyself.”Myheadachethrobsasifinresponse.Outsidetheairship,myvoiceechoesacrossthecityfromthevideofeedplayingfromdozensofColoniesairshipsandhundredsofLosAngelesJumboTrons.Itakeadeepbreath,asifthismightbethelasttimeIeverspeaktothepeople.“YouandIwillprobablynevergetachancetomeet.ButIknowyou.Youhavetaughtmeaboutallthegoodthingsinmylife,andwhyI’vefoughtformyfamilyalltheseyears.Ihopeforgreatthingsforyourownlovedones,thattheycangothroughlifewithoutsufferingthewayminehave.”Ipausehere.MyeyesturntofacetheChancellor,andhenodsonce,coaxingmeon.MyheartisbeatingsoloudlythatIcanbarelyhearmyownvoice.

“TheColonieshavemuchtoofferyou,”Isay,myvoicegrowingstronger.“Theirshipsarenowinourskies.ItwillnotbelongbeforeyouseeColoniesbannersflyingaboveyourchildren’sschoolsandoveryourhomes.PeopleoftheRepublic,Ihaveonefinalmessageforyou,beforeyouandIsayfarewelltoeachother.”

It’stime.Mylegstense,andmyfeetshifteversoslightly.TheChancellorlookson.

“TheRepublicisweakandbroken.”Inarrowmyeyes.“Butitisstillyourcountry.Fightforit.Thisisyourhome,nottheirs.”

InthesamemomentthatIseetheChancellor’senragedexpression,IspringfromwhereI’mstandingandkickattheglassashardasIcan.Coloniessoldiersrushtowardme.Mybootshitthewindow—theexplosivesembeddedinmysolesgivetwobriefpops,sendingtremorsthroughmyfeet.

Theglassshatters.AndnowI’mmidair,sailingthroughtheopenspace.Myarmswhipup

andgrabthetopedgeofthebrokenwindowpane.Abulletzipsby.TheChancellor’sfuriousshoutrisesupfrominside.Guessthey’renotgoingtotrykeepingmealiveafterthat.Allmyadrenalinerushesforwardinafloodofheat.

Ishimmyupandoutintotheeveningair.Notimetowaste.Mycapthreatenstoblowoff—Ihangoutthewindowforasecondandtrytoadjustitmoresnuglyontomyhead.LastthingIneedrightnowistohavemyhairblowingaroundlikeabeaconforanyoneonthegroundtosee.Whenthegustsdiedownabit,Ipullmyselfcompletelyoutandclingtothewindowframe.Ilookup,gaugingthedistancetothenextwindow.ThenIjump.Myhandsgrabontothebottomledgeoftheframe,andwithdifficulty,Imanagetopullmyselfup.Igruntfromtheeffort.Neverwould’vehadaproblemwiththisayearago.

WhenI’vehoppedtoafourthwindow,Ihearthefaintsoundofsomethingpopping.Then,thefirstexplosion.

Atremorrunsdeepthroughtheentireairship,nearlyshakingloosemygrip,andwhenIglancedown,Iseeaballoforangeandgrayexplodefromwheretheairshipisdockedtoitspyramidbase.ThePatriotsaremakingtheirmove.Asecondexplosionfollows—thistimetheairshipcreaksslightly,tiltingtotheeast.Grittingmyteeth,Ipickupspeed.Oneofmyfeetslipsagainstawindowframeatthesametimeagustofwindblowsby—Ialmostlosemybalance.Forasecondmylegdanglesprecariously.“C’mon,”Iscoldmyself.“Youcallthisarun?”ThenIthrowonearmupasfarasIcanandmanagetocatchthenextwindowbeforemylegsgivewaycompletely.Theefforttriggersadullflashofpainatthebackofmyhead.Iwince.No,notnow.Anytimebutnow.Butit’snouse.Ifeeltheheadachecoming.IfIgethitwithitrightnow,I’llbeinsomuchpainthatI’llplummettomydeathforsure.Desperately,Iclimbfaster.Myfeetslipagainonthetopmostwindow.Imanagetocatchmyselfatthelastsecond,thengrabtheledgeoftheupperdeckasmyheadacheexplodesinfullforce.

Blindingwhitepain.Idanglethere,clingingonfordearlife,fightingagainsttheagonythatthreatenstopullmeunder.Twomoreexplosionsfollowthefirstcoupleinrapidsuccession,andnowtheairshipcreaksandgroans.Ittriestolaunch,firingawayfromthebase,butallitmanagestodoisshudder.IftheChancellorgetshishandsonmenow,he’llkillmehimself.

Somewherefaraway,Ihearasirensound—soldiersontheupperdeckmustknowbynowthatI’mheadingthere,andthey’llbereadyforme.

Mybreathscomeinshortgasps.Openyoureyes,Icommandmyself.Youhavetoopenthem.Throughablurryveiloftears,Iseeaglimpseoftheupperdeckandsoldiersrunning.Theirshoutsringoutacrossthedeck.Foraninstant,IlosemymemoryagainofwhereIam,whatI’mdoing,whatmymissionis.Theunfamiliaritymakesmystomachheave,andIhavetokeepmyselffromthrowingup.Think,Day.You’vebeeninbadsituationsbefore.Mymemoryblurs.WhatdidIneeduphereagain?FinallyIclearmymind—Ineedsomewaytoswingdowntothebottomoftheship.ThenIrememberthesleekmetalchainrailingsliningtheedgeofthedeck,andmyoriginalplan—myeyesswiveluptothenearestchain.Withenormouseffort,Ireachoutandgrabatit.Imissthefirsttime.Thesoldiersseemenow,andseveralofthemruninmydirection.Igritmyteethandtryagain.

ThistimeIreachthechain.Igrabitwithbothhands,thenyankdown.Thechainpopsfreefromitshooks.Ithrowmyselfoffthesideoftheship—andletmyselffall.Ihopetohellthischaincansupportmyweight.There’sachorusofpopsasthechainsnapsfreeofhooksonbothsides,sendingmedownatdizzyingspeed.Thepaininmyheadthreatenstoweakenmygrip.IhangonwitheveryshredofstrengththatIhave.Myhairbillowsaroundme,andIrealizemycapmust’vefallenoff.Down,down,downIfall.Theworldzipspastmeatthespeedoflight.Throughtherushingwind,myheadslowlyclears.

SuddenlyonesideofthechainsnapslooserightasIreachthebottomoftheship.AlungfulofairescapesmeasI’mvaultedtooneside.ImanagetograbtheremainingchainwithbothhandsandhangontightlyasIswingalongthebottomsideoftheship.Thepyramidbaseisalmostcloseenoughundermyfeetformetojump,butI’mgoingwaytoofast.Iswingclosertothesideoftheship,thenscrapetheheelsofmybootshardagainstthesteel.There’saloud,longscreech.Mybootsfinallyfindtraction—theforcespinsmefrommyswingandsendsmetwirling.Ifighttosteadymyself.BeforeIcan,though,thechainfinallybreaksandItumbleontotheoutsideofthepyramidbase.

Theimpactknocksallthewindoutofme.Iskidagainstthesmooth,slantedwallsforafewseconds,untilmybootscatchagainstthesurfaceandIstopthere,bruisedandlimp,convincedsoldiersaregoingtofillmewithbulletsasIlievulnerableagainstthepyramid.Pascaoandtheotherswill

knowbynowthatI’vemademymove,andthey’llbesettingoffthebombsallalongthenavalbases.IbettergetoffthisthingbeforeI’mburnttoacrisp.Thatthoughtfillsmymindandgivesmethestrengthtopullmyselfup.IslidedownthesideasfastasIcan—below,IcanalreadyseeColoniessoldiersrushingtostopme.Asenseofhopelessnessstabsme.There’snowayinhellI’llgetpastallofthemintime.Still,Ikeepmoving.Ihavetogetawayfromtheexplosionsite.

I’mseveraldozenyardsfromthebottom.Soldiersareclamberinguptoseizeme.Itenseup,pushmyselfupintoacrouch,andquicklymovesidewaysagainsttheslantedbase.I’mnotgoingtomakeit.

Theinstantthiscrossesmymind,thetwofinalexplosionsgooffundertheairship.

Ahugeroarabovemeshakestheearth,andwhenIglancebehindme,Iseeanenormousfireballriseupfromwheretheairshipisdockedwiththetopofthebase.Allalongthenavalbase,orangeflamesburstfromeverysinglepyramiddock.They’vegoneoffinunison.Theresultisabsolutelyjaw-dropping.QuicklyIglancebacktothesoldierswhowerechasingme—they’vepaused,shockedbywhatthey’rewitnessing.Anotherdeafeningburstofflameeruptsaboveusandthetremorsknockeveryoneofftheirfeet.Istruggletostabilizemyselfagainsttheslantedwall.Move,move,move!Istaggerdownthelastfewyardsofthebase’swallandfalltomykneesontheground.Theworldspins.AllIcanheararetheshoutsofsoldiersandtheroaroftheinfernoslightingupthenavalbases.

Handsgrabme.Istruggle,butIhavenomorestrengthleft.SuddenlytheydropmeandIhearafamiliarvoiceatmyside.Iturninsurprise.Whoisthis?Pascao.HisnameisPascao.

Hisbrightgrayeyescrinkleatme—hegrabsmyhandandurgesmetorun.“Nicetoseeyoualive.Let’skeepitthatway.”

FROMTHEBANKTOWERINDOWNTOWNLA,I

CANSEEthegiantplumesoforangeflamelightingupthenavalbasesalongthecoast.Theblastsareenormous,illuminatingtheedgeoftheskywithblindinglightandechoingthroughtheair,theforceshakingtheglasswindowsofthetowerasIlookon.Hospitalstaffmillaroundmeinasceneofcommotion.ThelabteamsarepreppingbothTessandEdenforevacuation.

AcallcomesinfromPascao.“I’vegotDay,”heshouts.“Meetusoutside.”Mykneesturnweakwithrelief.He’salive.Hemadeit.IpeekinsideTess’s

room,whereshe’sbeingsecuredtoawheelchair,andgiveherathumbs-up.Shebrightens,eveninherweakenedstate.Outsidethetower,Iseetheshadowengulfingourbuildingbegintomove—theColoniesairshiphoveringoverheadisheadingawayfromustojoinintobattle.Asifourexplosionshaveunsettledanestofwasps,dozensofColoniesfighterjetsaretakingofffromitsdeckaswellasthedecksofthedistant,crippledairships,theirshapesformingsquadronsinthesky.Republicjetsmeettheminmidair.

Hurry,Antarctica.Please.IrushoffthelabflooranddownthestairstothelobbyoftheBankTower.

There’schaoseverywhere.Republicsoldiershurrypastmeinablurofmotion,whileseveralgatheratthefrontdoorstopreventanyoneelsefromgettinginside.“Thishospitalisofflimits!”onebarks.“Bringtheinjuredacrossthestreet—weareevacuating!”ThescreensliningthehallshowscenesofRepublicsoldiersclashingwithColoniestroopsinthestreets—and,tomysurprise,RepubliccivilianswieldingwhateverweaponstheycanfindandjoiningintopushtheColoniesback.Firesburnalongtheroads.Atthebottomofeveryscreeninbold,menacinglettersisthescrollingtext:ALLREPUBLICSOLDIERSTOBREAKSURRENDER.ALLREPUBLICSOLDIERSTOBREAKSURRENDER.Icringeatthescene,eventhoughthisisexactlywhatwehadplannedfor.

Outside,thenoiseofbattledeafensme.Fighterjetsroarpastusoverhead,

whileothershoverdirectlyovertheBankTower,preparedtodefendthetallestbuildinginLAif—when—theColoniestrytoattack.Iseesimilarformationsoverotherprominentdowntownbuildings.“Comeon,Day,”Imutter,scanningthestreetsnearbyforsignsofhisbrighthair,orofPascao’spaleeyes.Adeeptremorshakestheground.Anotherballoforangeflameexplodesbehindseveralrowsofbuildings,thenapairofColoniesjetszoomby,followedcloselybyaRepublicplane.ThesoundissoloudthatIpressbothhandstomyearsuntilthey’vepassed.

“June?”Pascao’svoicecomesovermymike,butIcanbarelyhearhim.“We’realmosthere.Whereareyou?”

“InfrontoftheBankTower,”Ishoutoverthenoise.“We’vegottaevacuate,”herepliesimmediately.“Gettingsomefeedback

fromourHackers—theColoniesareaimingtoattackthebuildingwithinthehour—”

Asifoncue,aColoniesjetscreamsby,andaninstantlater,anenormousexplosiongoesoffattheverytopoftheBankTower.Soldiersallaroundmeletoutshoutsofwarningasglassfallsfromthehighestfloors.Ijumpbackwardintothesafetyofthebuilding’sentrance.Debrisrainsdowninathunderousstorm,crushingjeepsandshatteringintoamillionpieces.

“June?”Pascao’svoicecomesbackon,clearlyalarmednow.“June—areyouokay?”

“I’mfine!”Ishoutback.“I’llhelpwithevacuationsonceIseeyou.Seeyousoon!”ThenIhangup.

Threeminuteslater,IfinallyspotDayandPascaostaggeringtowardtheBankToweragainstthetideofciviliansescapingtheareaandsoldiersrushingtodefendthestreets.Theystumblethroughthedebris.IrushfromtheentrancetowardDay,who’sleaningheavilyagainstPascao’sgoodshoulder.

“Areeitherofyouinjured?”Iask.“I’mfine,”Pascaoreplies,noddingatDay.“Notsureaboutthisguy.Ithink

he’smoreexhaustedthananything.”IswingDay’sotherarmaroundmyshoulder.PascaoandIhelphiminside

thelobbyofabuildingseveralblocksfromtheBankTower,wherewestillhaveadirectviewofthetowerandthechaotic,debris-filledsquarethatsitsbetweenthetwobuildings.Inside,rowsofinjuredsoldiersarealreadycampedout,withmedicsrunningfranticallybetweenthem.“We’reclearingoutthetower,”IexplainaswegentlyhelpDaydowntotheground.Hegrimacesinpain,eventhoughIcan’tfindanyspecificwoundsonhim.“Don’tworry,”Ireassurehim

whenheglancesupatmeinalarm.“EdenandTessarebeingevacuatedrightnow.”

“Andsoshouldyou,”headds.“Thefight’sjustbeginning.”“IfItellyoutostopworrying,willyou?”Myreplygetsawrysmilefromhim.“AretheAntarcticanscomingtohelp

us?”Dayasks.“DidyoutellAndenaboutthecure—”“Calmdown,”Iinterrupthim,thenstandupandputahandonPascao’s

shoulder.“Watchoutforhim.I’mgoingbacktothetowertohelpwiththeevacuations.I’lltellthemtobringhisbrotherhere.”Pascaonodsquickly,andIcastonelastglancetowardDaybeforerunningoutofthebuilding.

Astreamofpeopleismakingitswayoutofthetower,withRepublicsoldiersflankingthemoneitherside.Someareoncrutchesorinwheelchairs,whileothersarestrappedtogurneysandbeingwheeledoutbyateamofmedics.Republicsoldiersbarkordersatthem,theirgunshoistedandtheirbodiestense.Ihurrypastthemandtowardtheentrance,thenpushmywayinsidetothestairs.IhopupthestepstwoatatimeuntilIfinallyreachthelabfloor,wherethedoor’sproppedopenandanurseisdirectingpeopletowardtheelevator.

Ireachthenurseandgrabherarm.Sheturnstolookatme,startled.“Princeps-Elect,”shemanagestoblurtout,hastilybowingherhead.“Whatareyou—”

“EdenBataarWing,”Isaybreathlessly.“Ishereadytogoyet?”“Day’sbrother?”shereplies.“Yes—yes,he’sinhisroom.We’repreparingto

movehimcomfortably.Hestillneedstobeinawheelchair,but—”“AndTess?Thegirlwhowasunderquarantine?”“She’salreadyonherwaydownstairs—”Idon’twaitforthenursetofinishbeforerushingintothemainlabroomand

towardthecorridor.Attheveryend,IseeapairofdoctorswheelingEdenout.Helookslikehe’sunconscious,restingonasmallpillowproppedbetweenhisheadandthechair’sback,hisforeheaddampwithsweat.

Igivethedoctorsinstructionsonwheretotakehimasweallhurrytogethertowardtheelevator.“You’llseeDaythere.Keephimwithhisbrother.”

Anotherexplosionripsthroughthebuilding,forcinghalfofustoourknees.Someofthemedicsscream.Dustrainsdownfromtheceiling,makingmyeyeswater—Iunbuttonmycoat,thenshrugoutofitandthrowitacrossEdentoshieldhim.“Noelevator,”Igaspout,headingtowardthestairsinstead.“Canwecarryhimdown?”

OneofthenursesgingerlypicksEdenupandholdshimtightinherarms.

Wehurrydownthestairsasmoredustshowersusandmuffledsoundsofshouts,guns,andexplosionsechofromoutside.

Werushoutintoalengtheningeveninglitcompletelybythefireofbattle.StillnocallfromAnden.Myeyessweeptheroofsaswepauseunderneaththeentrance,otherevacueesstreamingaroundusandbetweenRepublicguards.Oneoftheguardsrecognizesmeandhurriesover,throwingaquicksalutebeforehespeaks.“Princeps-Elect!”heshouts.“Gettotheadjacentshelter,asquickasyoucan—we’llsendajeeptotakeyoutotheElector.”

Ishakemyheadrightaway.“No.I’mstayinghere.”Asparkfromtheroofsmakesmelookup,andinstantlyweallcringewhenabullethitstheoverhanginfrontofthemainentrance.ThereareColoniesgunmenontheroofs.SeveraloftheRepublicsoldierspointtheirgunsandopenfire.Theguardwhohadspokentomeputsahandonmyshoulder.“Thenmoveout,”heyells,gesturingwildlyforus.

ThenurseholdingEdentakesseveralstepsforward,hereyesstillfixedinterrorontherooftops.Iputahandouttostopher.“Notyet,”Isay.“Stayhereamoment.”Nottwosecondsafterthewordsleavemymouth,Iseeabullethitoneoftheevacuees—bloodsprays,andinstantlythepeoplearoundhimflee,screamsreverberatingintheair.MyheartpoundsasIscantheroofsagain.OneoftheRepublicsoldiersfinallycatchesagunman,andIseesomebodyinaColoniesuniformfallfromthetopofanearbybuilding.Ilookawaybeforethebodyhitstheground,butI’mstillstruckbyaviolentwaveofnausea.HowdowegetEdentosafety?

“Stayhere,”IcommandthenurseholdingEden.ThenItapfouroftheRepublicsoldiers.“Coverme.I’mheadingupthere.”Igestureforoneoftheguardstohandmethegunathisbelt,andhepassesitoverwithouthesitation.

Imoveintothecrowdsandmakemywaytowardthebuildings.ItrytoimitatetheeffortlessgracethatDayandPascaohaveinthisurbanjungle.Asthechaoticevacuationscontinueandsoldiersfrombothsidesfaceoffagainstoneanother,Ihurryintotheshadowsofanarrow,nearbyalleyandstartmakingmywayupthesideofthebuilding.I’msmall,dressedindarkclothes,andalone.Theywon’texpectmetoheaduphere.Mymindrunsthroughallofmysharpshootinglessons.IfIcanthrowthemoff,it’llgivetheevacueesthatmuchmoreofachancetomakeitoutinonepiece.EvenasIthinkthis,anotherColoniesjetzoomsoverheadandahugeplumeofbrightredflameeruptsontheBankTower.ARepublicjettailsclosebehindit,firingasitgoes—asIlookon,itmanagestohittheColoniesplaneandigniteoneofitsengines,sendingit

careeningwildlytoonesideandleavingatrailofdarksmokebehindit.Adeafeningroarfollows;itmusthavecrashedseveralblocksdown.Ilookbackupattheburningtower.Wedon’thavemuchtime.Thisbuildingisgoingtocomedown.IgritmyteethandmakemywayupasfastasIcan.IfonlyIwereasgoodaRunnerasDayandPascao.

Ifinallyreachthetopfloor’sledge.Fromhere,Igetagoodviewofthebattlezonebelowme.TheBankTowerisundersiegefromtheskyandtheground,wherehundredsofRepublictroopsarepushingbackinthestreetsagainstasteadytideofenemysoldiers.Patientsandmedicsalikestillstreamfromthetoweranddownthestreettowardthemakeshiftshelter,alongwithgovernmentofficialsfromthehigherfloors,manyofthemcoveredcompletelyinwhitedustandblood.Ipeeroverthetopledge.

Nogunmenhere.Ipullmyselfupontotheroof,carefultostayintheshadows.MyhandgripsthegunsotightlythatIcanbarelyfeelmyfingers.Iscantheroofsinthedangerzoneleadinguptotheshelter,untilfinallyIseeseveralColoniessoldierscrouchedontopoftheneighboringbuildings,takingaimattheRepublictroopsheadinguptheevacuation.Imakemywaysilentlytowardthem.

Itakethefirstonedownquickly,aimingathimfrombehindasIpeeroverthebuilding’stopledge.It’sasifIcanfeelMetiasguidingmygun,makingsureIhithimsomewherethatisn’tfatal.Ashecollapseswithamuffledshriekthat’slostinallthechaos,Irushoverandgrabhisgun,thenflingitoverthesideoftheroof.ThenIhithiminthefacehardenoughtoknockhimout.Myeyessettleonthenextsoldier.Ipressonehandagainstmyearpieceandclickmymikeon.

“Tellthenursetokeepwaiting,”IhissurgentlyattheguardbytheBankTower.“I’llsendasignalwhenit’s—”

Inevergetachancetofinishmysentence.Anexplosionthrowsmedownflatontotheroof.WhenIopenmyeyesandlookdown,theentirestreetiscompletelycoveredinashanddust.Dustbombs?Throughtheveilofsmokeanddirt,evacueesarerunninginpanictowardtheshelterandbreakingthroughthelinesofRepublicsoldiersflankingthem,completelyignoringtheirshouts.TheColoniesgunmenhavevisorson.Theymustbeabletoseethroughallthissmoke.Theyfiredownatthecrowds,scatteringtheminalldirections.Ilookfranticallytowardthetower.Where’sEden?Ihurrytomynexttarget,takinghimdowninthesamewayasthelast.Anothergunmandown.Ilockontomythirdtarget,thenspitoutacurseasIrealizethatmygunhasjustrunoutofbullets.

I’mabouttomakemywayofftheroofwhensomethingbrightglintsfroma

rooftop.Ifreezeinmytracks.Notfarfrommeonahigherbuilding,CommanderJamesoncrouchesona

roof.AchillshakesmefromheadtotoewhenIseethatshehasaguninherhand.No.No.

She’spickingoffRepublicsoldiers,onebulletatatime.Then,myheartstopsasshecatchessightofsomethingthatpiquesherinterest.Shetakesaimatanewtargetontheground.Myeyesfollowthelineofhergun.Andthat’swhenIseeaboywithbrightblondhairpushinghiswayagainstthestreamofthecrowdandtowardtheBankTower.

She’saimingatDay.

TESSGETSEVACUATEDFIRST—ISEEHERLIMPFORMBEINGcarriedinthearmsofanurseastheyexittheBankTower.Itakeherfromthenurse’sarmsassoonastheyreachgroundlevel,thencarryheralongsidethestreamofotherevacuees.Sheseemsonlyhalfconscious,unawareofmypresence,herheadlollingtooneside.Halfwaytotheshelter,Islowdown.Damn,I’msoexhaustedandinsomuchpain.

PascaotakesTessfrommyarms.Hehoistsheruptohischest.Ontheroofs,sparksfly—signsofgunfire.“GetbacktotheBankTowerentrance,”heyellsatmebeforeturninghisback.“I’llgetherover!”Andthenhe’soffbeforeIcanargue.

Iwatchthemgoforawhile,unwillingtolookawayuntilI’msureTessissafelyacrossthesquare.Whentheyreachtheshelter,Iturnmyattentionbacktothetower.Edenshouldbedownbynow.Icranemyneck,squintingthroughthecrowdsforaheadofblondcurls.HasJunecomebackdownstairsyet?Idon’tseeherinthepanickingmasseseitherandherabsencesendsajoltofworrythroughme.

Then,anexplosion.I’mthrowntotheground.Dust.Adustbomb,Imanagetothinkthroughthepoundinginmyhead.

AtfirstIcan’tseeanythingthroughallthesmoke—there’schaoseverywhere,sparksflying,andtheoccasionalmuffledsoundofgunfire;throughthefloatingwhitedust,IseeablurofpeoplerunningtowardthesafetyoftheRepublicbarricades,theirlegsmovingasifinslowmotion,theirmouthsopeninsilentshouts.Ishakemyheadwearily.Myownlimbsfeellikethey’redraggingthroughthemud,andthebackofmyheadthrobs,threateningtodrownmeinpain.Iblinkagainstit,tryingtokeepmysensesstraight.DesperatelyIcalloutagainforEden,butIcan’tevenhearmyownvoice.IfIcan’thearit,howcanhe?

Thepeoplethinoutforamoment.AndthenIseehim.It’sEden.He’sunconsciousinthearmsofaterrified

Republicnurse,onewhoseemstobestumblingblindlythroughthedust,headedinthewrongdirection—straighttowardtheColoniestroopsliningtheleftsideofthesquare,oppositeofwheretheshelteris.Idon’tstoptothinkorshoutathim,Idon’thesitateorwaitforagoodintervalinthegunfire.Ijuststartrunningtowardhim.

COMMANDERJAMESON’SGOINGTOSHOOTHIM—THEdirectionshe’saiminghergunisunmistakable.

Day’ssprintingthroughthedustthatblanketsthestreet.Day,whatareyoudoing?Hestumblesinhisdash,andevenfromtheroofsIcantellthathe’sstrugglingtomakehisbodymove,thateverylastinchofhimisscreamingfromexhaustion.He’sgoingtopushhimselftoofar.Iglanceinthedirectionhe’sgoing,searchingoutwhathasdrawnhisattention.

Eden.Ofcourse.ThenurseholdingEdentripsandfallsinthemidstofallthebillowingsmoke,andwhenshegetsup,feargetsthebestofherbecauseshejuststartsrunningaway.Furyrisesupinsideme.LeftbehindisEden,slowlystirringandcompletelyvulnerableintheopenstreet,blind,separatedfromthegroup,andcoughinguncontrollablyfromthesmoke.

Ijumptomyfeet.WiththewayDay’srunningoppositeofeveryoneelse,he’llsoonbeinanareawherehe’sanopentarget.

Myhandfliestomywaist—andthenIrememberthatmyowngunisoutofbullets.Isprintbackacrosstherooftoptowardmylasttarget,whereIhadn’tyetdroppedhisgunofftheroof.WhenIglancetowardCommanderJamesonagain,Iseehertenseandaim.No.No!Shefiresashot.

ThebulletmissesDaybyacoupleoffeet.Hestumblesinhisrush,throwinganarmbrieflyoverhisheadoutofinstinct,butpickshimselfupandcontinuesdoggedlyon.Myheartthudsfranticallyagainstmychest.Faster.Itakeaflyingleapfromonerooftothenext.Downbelow,IseeDaynearingEden.Thenhe’sthere,he’sreachedhim,he’sskiddingtoahaltnexttoEdenandthrowinghisarmsprotectivelyaroundhislittlebrother.Thedustaroundthemmakesthemhardtofocuson,asifthey’rebothghostsinfadedcolors.MybreathcomesinshallowgaspsasIdrawclosertothefallensoldiers.IhopethedustisthrowingCommanderJameson’saimoff.

Ireachthedownedsoldier.Igrabhisgun.Onebulletleft.

Below,DaypicksupEden,putsonehandprotectivelyagainstthebackofhisbrother’shead,andthenstartsstaggeringbacktowardtheshelterasfastashisbrokenbodywillallowhim.CommanderJamesontakesaimagain—Iscreaminmyheadandpushmyselftogofaster.Allofmyadrenaline,everyfiberofmyattentionandconcentration,isnowfocusedlikeanarrowonher.Shefires.Thistimethebulletmissesthebrothers,butitsparksbarelyafootawayfromDay.Hedoesn’tevenbothertolookup.HeonlyclutchesEdentighter,thenstumblesonward.

Ifinallyneartheroofwheresheis.Ileapontoit,landingonitsflatconcretesurface.Fromhere,IcanseeboththeroofI’monandthestreetbelow.Threedozenyardsaheadofme,partiallyobscuredbychimneysandvents,CommanderJamesoncroucheswithherbackturnedtome,herfocusonthestreets.

Shefiresagain.Downbelow,IhearahoarseshriekofpainfromavoiceIknowalltoowell.Allmybreathescapesme.IglancequicklytothestreettoseeDayfalltohisknees,droppingEdenforamoment.Thesoundsaroundmedull.

He’sbeenshot.Heshudders,thenpickshimselfupagain.HoistsEdenintohisarmsagain.

Staggersonward.CommanderJamesonfiresonemoretime.Thebulletmakesimpact.Ihoisttheguninmyhands,thenpointitstraightather.I’mcloseenoughnow,closeenoughtoseetheridgesofherbulletproofvestliningherback.Myhandsshake.Ihaveaperfectvantage,astraightshotrightatCommanderJameson’shead.She’sgettingreadytofireagain.

Iaim.Asiftheworldhassuddenlyslowedtoamillionframesasecond,

CommanderJamesonspinsaround.Shesensesmypresence.Hereyesnarrow—andthensheswivelsherguntowardme,takingherfocusoffDay.Thoughtsflashthroughmymindatthespeedoflight.Ipullmygun’strigger,firingmylastbulletstraightatherhead.

AndImiss.Inevermiss.Notimetodwellonthis—CommanderJamesonhashergunpointedatme,

andasmybulletwhizzespastherface,Iseehersmileandfire.Ithrowmyselftotheground,thenroll.Somethingsparksbarelyaninchfrommyarm.IdartbehindanearbychimneyandpressmyselfastightlyagainstthewallasIcan.Somewherebehindme,thesoundofheavybootsapproaches.Breathe.Breathe.Ourlastconfrontationflashesthroughmymind.WhycanIfaceeverythingintheworldexceptCommanderJameson?

“Comeoutandplay,LittleIparis,”shecallsout.WhenIstaysilent,shelaughs.“Comeout,soyoucanseeyourprettyboybleedingtodeathonthestreet.”

Sheknowsexactlyhowtoslicerightintomyheart.ButIgritmyteethandforcetheimageofableeding,dyingDayoutofmyhead.Idon’thavetimeforthisbullshit.WhatIneedtodoisdisarmher—andatthatthought,Ilookdownatmyuselessgun.Timetoplayagameofpretend.

She’ssilentnow.AllIcanhearisthesofttapofapproachingboots,thesteadynearingofmybrother’skiller.Myhandstightenonmygun.

She’scloseenough.Ishutmyeyesforaninstant,mutteraquickwhisperforgoodluck—andthenwhirloutfrommyhidingplace.IpointmygunupatCommanderJamesonasifI’mabouttofire.ShedoeswhatIhope—sheflinchestotheside,butthistimeI’mready,andIlungestraightforher.Ijump,thenkickherfaceashardasIcan.Mybootsmakeasatisfyingsoundonimpact.Herheadsnapsbackward.Hergriponhergunloosens,andItaketheopportunitytokickitrightoutofherhands.Shecollapsesontotheroofwithathud—hergunfliesofftooneside,thenfallsrightofftheroofandtothesmoke-filledstreetsbelow.

Idon’tdarestopmymomentum.Whileshe’sstilldown,Iswingmyelbowatherfaceinanefforttoknockherunconscious.Myfirstblowhits—butmysecondonedoesn’t.CommanderJamesongrabsmyelbow,snapsherotherhandonmywristlikeashackle,andthentwists.Iflipwithit.Painshootsupmyarmasitbendsinhergrasp.Beforeshecanbreakit,Itwistaroundandstomponherarmwiththesharpheelofmyboot.Shewinces,butdoesn’tletgo.Istompagain,harder.

Hergriploosensbyahair,andIfinallymanagetoslipoutofhergrasp.ShehopstoherfeetrightasIputsomedistancebetweenusandturnagainto

faceher.Westarttocircleeachother,bothofusbreathingheavily,myarmstillscreaminginpainandherfacemarredbyatrickleofbloodcomingfromhertemple.IalreadyknowIcan’twinagainstherinanall-outbrawl.She’stallerandstronger,equippedwithyearsoftrainingthatmytalentscan’tmatch.Myonlyhopeistocatchherbysurpriseagain,tofindawaytoturnherownforceagainsther.AsIcontinuetocircle,waitingandwatchingforanopening,theworldaroundusfadesaway.Idrawonallmyanger,lettingitreplacemyfearandgivemestrength.

It’sjustyouandmenow.Thisisthewayitwasalwaysmeanttobe,thisisthemomentI’vebeenwaitingforsinceitallbegan.We’llfaceeachotherattheveryendwithourbarehands.

CommanderJamesonstrikesfirst.Herspeedterrifiesme.Onesecondshe’sbeforeme,andthenextshe’satmyside,herfistflyingtowardmyface.Idon’thavetimetododge.AllImanagetodoisjerkmyshoulderupatthelastsecond,andherfisthitsmeinsteadasaglancingblow.Starsexplodeacrossmyeyes.Istumblebackward.Imanagetododgehernextblow—barely.Irollawayfromher,fightingtoclearmyvision,andpopbackontomyfeet.Whenshelungesagain,Ijumpupandkickatherhead.Itcatchesher,butshe’stoofastforittobehead-on.Idartawayagain.ThistimeIbackupslowlytowardtheedgeoftheroof,myeyesterrifiedtoleaveher.Good,Iremindmyself.Lookasfrightenedasyoucan.Finally,thebackofmyboothitstheroof’sledge.Iglancedown,thenbackupatCommanderJameson.Despiteaslightunsteadiness,shelooksundaunted.Itisn’thardformetofakethefearinmywideeyes.

Shestalkstowardmelikeapredator.Shedoesn’tsayaword,butshedoesn’tneedto—everythingshe’severwantedtotellmehasalreadybeensaidbefore.Itrunsthroughmyheadlikeapoison.LittleIparis,howmuchyouremindmeofmyselfatyourage.Adorable.Someday,you’lllearnthatlifeisn’talwayswhatyouwantittobe.Thatyouwon’talwaysgetwhatyouwant.Andthatthereareforcesoutofyourcontrolthatwillshapeyouintowhoyouare.Toobadyourtimeendshere.Itwould’vebeenfuntoseewhatyougrowuptobecome.

Hereyeshypnotizeme.Inthismoment,Icanimaginenoworsesight.Shelungesforward.Ihaveonlyonechance.Iduck,grabherarm,andflipherrightovermy

head.Hermomentumsendshersailingovertheedgeoftheroof.Butherhandclampsdownonmyarm.I’myankedhalfwayovertheledge—

myleftshoulderpopsoutofitssocket.Iscream.Myheelsdiginagainsttheledge,fightingtokeepmefromfallingover.CommanderJamesonflattensherselfagainstthesideofthebuilding,grapplingforfootholds.HernailsdigsodeepintomyfleshthatIcanfeelmyskinripping.Tearsspringtomyeyes.Downbelow,Republicsoldiersarestillherdingevacuees,firingonenemysoldiersonotherroofs,shoutingordersintotheirmikes.

IscreamatthemwitheverythingIhaveleft.“Shoother!”Ishout.“Shoother!”

TwoRepublicsoldierssnaptheirheadsinmydirection.Theyrecognizeme.Astheylifttheirgunsinmydirection,CommanderJamesonlooksupintomyeyesandgrins.“Iknewyoucouldn’tdoityourself.”

Thenthesoldiersopenfire,CommanderJameson’sbodyconvulses,hergripsuddenlyloosens,andsheplummetslikeawoundedbirdtothestreet.Iturn

awaysoIdon’thavetolook,butIstillhearthesickeningsoundofherbodyagainstpavement.She’sgone.Justlikethat.I’mleftwithherwordsandmyownringingthroughmyears.

Shoother.Shoother.Metias’swordsflashthroughmymind.Fewpeopleeverkillfortheright

reasons.Ihurriedlywipethetearsfrommyface.WhatdidIjustdo?Herbloodstains

myhands—Irubmygoodhandagainstmyclothes,butIcan’tgetitoff.Idon’tknowifI’lleverbeableto.“Thisistherightreason,”Iwhisperrepeatedly.

Perhapsshedestroyedherself,andIonlyhelped.Buteventhisthoughtseemshollow.

Theagonyofmydislocatedshouldermakesmelight-headed.Iliftmyrightarm,gripmywoundedleftarm,gritmyteeth,andpushhard.Iscreamagain.Theboneresistsforaninstant—andthenIfeelmyshoulderpopbackintoplace.Freshtearscoursedownmyface.Myhandstrembleuncontrollably,andmyearsring,blockingoutanysoundaroundmeexceptthebeatingofmyheart.

Howlonghasitbeen?Hours?Afewseconds?Thepulsinglightoflogicseepsintomymind,cuttingthroughthepain.As

always,itsavesme.Dayneedsyourhelp,itwhispers.Gotohim.IsearchforDay.Hehasreachedtheothersideofthestreetandthesafer

areasaroundtheshelter,whereRepublicsoldiershavesetuptheirbarricades...butevenasIstartrushingtotheedgeoftheroof,InoticethatothershavepulledEden’sunconsciousformawayfromDayandaretakinghimtosafety.AfewhoveroverDayasheliesontheground,momentarilyobscuringhimfrommyview.IscrambledownthebuildingasfastasIcan,untilIreachafireescapeandrushdownthemetalsteps.Fearandadrenalinenumbmyinjuries.

Please,Ibegsilently.Pleaselethimbeokay.BythetimeIreachhim,acrowdhasformed.Icanhearoneofthem

shouting,“Moveit!Getback,giveussomeroom!Tellthemtohurryup!”Alumpinmythroatchokesme,leavingmeshortofbreath.Mybootspoundagainsttheground,keepingrhythmwithmyheart.IshovepeopleasideanddroptomykneesatDay’sside.ThepersonshoutingwasPascao.Hegivesmeafranticlook.

“Staywithhim,”hetellsme.“I’mgoingforthemedics.”Inodonce,andhedashesoff.

Ibarelynoticeallthepeoplecrowdedaroundusinaring.AllIcandoislookdownatDay.He’stremblingfromheadtotoe,hiseyeswideopeninshock,

hishairclingingtohisface.WhenIlookcloserathisbody,Inoticetwowoundsspillingdarkbloodacrosshisshirt,onewoundinhischestandtheothernearhiship.Astrangledcrycomesfromsomeone.Maybeit’sfromme.Asifinadream,Ibendoverhimandtouchhisface.

“Day,it’sme.It’sJune.I’mrighthere.”Helooksatme.“June?”hemanagestogaspout.Hetriestoliftahandtomy

face,buthe’sshakingsohardthathecan’t.Ireachoutandcradlehisfacewithbothofmyhands.Hiseyesarefulloftears.“I—Ithink—I’vebeenshot—”Twopeoplefromthecrowdplacetheirhandsoverhiswounds,pressingdownhardenoughtoforceapainfulsobfromhismouth.Hetriestolookdownatthem,buthasnostrengthtolifthishead.

“Medicsareontheirway,”Itellhimfirmly,leaningcloseenoughtopressmylipsagainsthischeek.“Hangon.Okay?Staywithme.Keeplookingatme.You’llbeokay.”

“Idon’t—thinkso,”Daystammers.Heblinksrapidly,spillingtearsdownthesidesofhisface.Theywetthetipsofmyfingers.“Eden—ishesafe—?”

“He’ssafe,”Iwhisper.“Yourbrotherissafeandsoundandyou’llgettoseehimverysoon.”

Daystartstoreply,butcan’t.Hisskinlookssoashen.Please,no.Irefusetoletmyselfthinktheworst,butithangsoveruslikeablackshadow.Ifeeltheheavinessofdeathloomingovermyshoulder,hissightlesseyesstaringdownintoDay’ssoul,waitingpatientlytooverwhelmhislight.

“Idon’twant—togo—”Dayfinallymanagestosay.“Idon’twant—toleaveyou—Eden—”

Ishushhimbytouchingmylipstohistremblingones.“NothingbadwilleverhappentoEden,”Ireplygently,desperatetokeephimwithme.“Stayfocused,Day.You’regoingtothehospital.They’recomingbackforyou;itwon’tbelongnow.”

Itwon’tbelongnow.Dayjustsmilesatme,anexpressionsosadthatitbreaksthroughmy

numbness,andIbegintocry.Thosebrightblueeyes.BeforemeistheboywhohasbandagedmywoundsonthestreetsofLake,whohasguardedhisfamilywitheveryboneinhisbody,whohasstayedbymysideinspiteofeverything,theboyoflightandlaughterandlife,ofgriefandfuryandpassion,theboywhosefateisintertwinedwithmine,foreverandalways.

“Iloveyou,”hewhispers.“Canyoustayawhile?”Hesayssomethingelse,buthisvoicetrailsoffsoquietlythatIcan’tmakeoutwhatitis.No.No.You

can’t.Hisbreathinggrowsshallower.Icantellthatheisfightingtostayconscious,thatwitheverypassingsecond,hiseyeshavemoreandmoretroublefocusingonme.Foramoment,Daytriestolookatsomethingbehindme,butwhenIglanceovermyshoulder,there’snothingtherebutopensky.Ikisshimagainandthenleanmyheadagainsthis.

“Iloveyou,”Iwhisperoverandoveragain.“Don’tgo.”Iclosemyeyes.Mytearsfallonhischeeks.

AsIcrouchthereagainsthim,feelinghislifeslowlyebbaway,I’mconsumedwithgriefandrage.Ihaveneverbeenareligiousperson.Butrightnow,asIseemedicsinthedistancehurryingtowardus,Isendadesperateprayertosomehigherpower.Towhat,Idon’tknow.ButIhopethatSomeone,Anyone,hearsme.ThatIt’llliftusbothintoItsarmsandtakepityonus.IthrowthisprayerintotheskywitheveryshredofstrengthIhaveleft.

Lethimlive.Pleasedon’ttakehimawayfromthisworld.Pleasedon’tlethimdieherein

myarms,notaftereverythingwe’vebeenthroughtogether,notafterYou’vetakensomanyothers.Please,IbegYou,lethimlive.Iamwillingtosacrificeanythingtomakethishappen—I’mwillingtodoanythingYouask.MaybeYou’lllaughatmeforsuchanaïvepromise,butImeanitinearnest,andIdon’tcareifitmakesnosenseorseemsimpossible.Lethimlive.Please.Ican’tbearthisasecondtime.

Ilookdesperatelyaroundus,myvisionblurredwithtears,andeverythingisasmearofbloodandsmoke,lightandash,andallIcanhearisscreamingandgunfireandhatred,andIamsotiredofthefighting,sofrustrated,angry,helpless.

Tellmethereisstillgoodintheworld.Tellmethereisstillhopeforallofus.Throughanunderwaterveil,Ifeelhandsonmyarmspullmeawayfrom

Day.Istrugglestubbornlyagainstthem.Painlancesupmyinjuredshoulder.Medicsbenddownoverhisbody.Hiseyesareclosednow,andIcan’tseehimbreathing.ImagesofMetias’sbodyflashbacktome.WhenthemedicstryagaintopullmefromDay,Ishovethemroughlyawayandscream.Iscreamforeverythingthathasgonewrong.Iscreamforeverythingbrokeninourlives.

ITHINKJUNEISLEANINGOVERME,BUTIHAVETROUBLEmakingoutthedetailsofherface.WhenItrytoohard,theedgesofmyvisionfilteroutintoblindingwhite.Thepain,atfirstexcruciating,isnothingnow.Memoriesfadeinandout—memoriesofmyfirstdaysfrightenedandaloneonthestreets,withmybleedingkneeandhollowstomach;ofyoungTess,andthenofJohnwhenhefirstlearnedthatIwasstillalive;ofmymother’shome,myfather’ssmile,ofEdenasababy.IrememberthefirsttimeImetJuneonthestreets.Herdefiantstance,herfierceeyes.Then,gradually,Ihavetroublerememberinganything.

Ialwaysknew,onsomelevel,thatIwouldn’tlivelong.It’ssimplynotwritteninmystars.

SomethingbrighthoveringbehindJune’sshouldercatchesmyattention.IturnmyheadasmuchasIcantoseeit.Atfirstitlookslikesomeglowingorboflight.AsIkeepstaring,though,Irealizethatit’smymother.

Mom,Iwhisper.Istandandtakeasteptowardher.Myfeetfeelsolight.Mymothersmilesatme.Shelooksyoungandhealthyandwhole,her

handsnolongerwrappedinbandages,herhairthecolorofwheatandsnow.WhenIreachher,shegentlycupsmyfacebetweenhersmooth,uninjuredpalms.Myheartstopsbeating;itfillswithwarmthandlightandIwanttostayhereforever,lockedinthismoment.Ifalterinmysteps.MomcatchesmebeforeIcanfall,andwekneelthere,togetheragain.“Mylittlelostboy,”shemurmurs.

Myvoicecomesoutasabrokenwhisper.“I’msosorry.I’msosorry.”“Hush,mybaby.”Ibowmyheadasshekneelsoverme.Shekissesmy

forehead,andIamachildagain,helplessandhopeful,burstingwithlove.Pasttheblurry,goldenlineofherarm,Icanlookdownatmypale,brokenbodylyingontheground.There’sagirlcrouchedoverme,herhandsonmyface,herlongdarkhairdrapedoverhershoulder.She’scrying.

“AreJohnandDad...?”Ibegintosay.

Momjustsmiles.Hereyesaresoincrediblyblue,likeIcanseetheentireworldinsidethem—theskyandthecloudsandeverythingbeyond.

“Don’tworry,”shereplies.“Theyarewell,andtheyloveyouverymuch.”

Ifeelanoverwhelmingneedtofollowmymotherwherevershe’sgoing,whereverthatmighttakeus.“Imissyouguys,”Ifinallysaytoher.“Ithurtseveryday,theabsenceofsomeonewhowasoncethere.”

Momcombsagentlehandthroughmyhair,thewaysheusedtowhenIwaslittle.“Mydarling,there’snoneedtomissus.Weneverleft.”Sheliftsherheadandnodsatthestreet,pastthecrowdsofpeoplewhohavegatheredaroundmybody.Nowateamofmedicsisliftingmeontoastretcher.“GobacktoEden.He’swaitingforyou.”

“Iknow,”Iwhisper.IcranemynecktoseeifIcancatchaglimpseofmybrotherinthecrowds,butIdon’tseehimthere.

Momrises;herhandsleavemyface,andIfindmyselfstrugglingtobreathe.No.Pleasedon’tleaveme.Ireachoutahandtoher,butsomeinvisiblebarrierstopsit.Thelightgrowsbrighter.“Whereareyougoing?CanIcomewithyou?”

Momsmiles,butshakesherhead.“Youstillbelongontheothersideofthelookingglass.Someday,whenyou’rereadytotakethestepovertoourside,I’llcomeseeyouagain.Livewell,Daniel.Makethatfinalstepcount.”

FORTHEFIRSTTHREEWEEKSTHATDAYISINTHEHOSPITAL,Ineverleave.Thesamepeoplecomeandgo—Tess,ofcourse,who’sinthewaitingroomasmuchasIam,waitingforDaytocomeoutofhiscoma;Eden,whostaysaslongasLucyallowshimto;theotherremainingPatriots,especiallyPascao;anendlessassortmentofdoctorsandmedicswhoIbegintorecognizeandknowbynameafterthefirstweek;andAnden,whohasreturnedfromthewarfrontwithhisownscars.Hordesofpeoplecontinuetostaycampedoutaroundthehospital,butAndendoesn’thavethehearttotellthemtodisperse,evenwhentheycontinuetostakeoutthegroundsforweeksandthenmonths.Manyofthemhavethefamiliarscarletstreakspaintedintotheirhair.Forthemostpart,theystaysilent.Sometimestheychant.I’vegrownusedtotheirpresencenow,tothepointwhereit’scomforting.TheyremindmethatDayisstillalive.Stillfighting.

ThewarbetweentheRepublicandtheColonies,atleastfornow,isover.TheAntarcticansfinallycametoourrescue,bringingwiththemtheirfearsometechnologyandweaponsthatintimidatedAfricaandtheColoniesintoreturningtoourceasefireagreement,bringingbothAndenandtheChancellorbeforetheinternationalcourt,imposingthepropersanctionsagainstusandthemandfinally,finallybeginningtheprocessforapermanentpeacetreaty.Theashesofourbattlegroundsarestillhere,though,alongwithalingeringhostility.Iknowitwilltaketimetoclosethewounds.Ihavenoideahowlongthisceasefirewilllast,orwhentheRepublicandtheColonieswillfindtruepeace.Maybeweneverwill.Butfornow,thisisgoodenough.

OneofthefirstthingsthedoctorshadtodoforDay,afterstitchingupthehorrificbulletwounds,wastooperateonhisbrain.Thetraumahe’dsufferedmeanthecouldn’treceivethefullcourseofmedicationsneededtoproperlyprephimforthesurgery...buttheywentaheadwithit.Whetherornothewasreadywasirrelevantatthatpoint;iftheydidn’t,hewould’vediedanyway.Yet,still.

Thiskeepsmeawakenights.Noonereallyknowswhetherhe’llwakeupatall,orwhetherhe’llbeanaltogetherdifferentpersonifhedoes.

Twomonthspass,andthenthree.Gradually,weallstarttodoourwaitingathome.Thehospital’scrowds

finallybegintothin.Fivemonths.Winterpasses.At0728hoursonanearlyspringThursdayinMarch,Iarriveatthe

hospital’swaitingroomformyusualcheck-in.Asexpectedatthishour,I’mtheonlyonehere.Eden’sathomewithLucy,gettingsomeneededsleep.Hecontinuestogrow,andifDaywereawaketoseehimnow,Iknowhe’dcommentonhowhisbrotherisstartingtoleanout,losingthebabyfatonhisfaceandtakingtheearlystepsintoadulthood.

EvenTessisn’thereyet.Shetendstocomeinthelatemorningtoworkasamedicassistant,shadowingthedoctors,andwhenIcatchheronherbreaks,wehuddletogetherandexchangeconversationinhushedvoices.Sometimessheevenmakesmelaugh.“Helovesyou,reallyhedoes,”shetoldmeyesterday.“He’dloveyouevenifitdestroyedhim.Hematchesyou.Iguessit’skindofcute.”Shesaidthiswithashy,grudgingsmileonherface.Somehow,shehadmanagedtoreturntotheplacewhereI’dfirstknownher,butnowassomeoneolder,taller,andwiser.

Inudgedheraffectionately.“YouguyshaveabondIcouldnevertouch,”Ireplied.“Evenwhenwe’reatourworst.”

Sheblushedatthat,andIcouldn’thelpopeningmyhearttoher.AlovingTessisoneofthesweetestsightsintheworld.“Justbegoodtohim,”shewhispered.“Promise?”

NowIgreetthenurseatthewaitingroom’swindow,thensettledownintomyusualchairandlookaround.Soemptythismorning.IfindmyselfmissingTess’scompanionship.Itrytodistractmyselfwiththenewsheadlinesrunningonthemonitor.

ANTARCTICANPRESIDENTIKARI,UNITEDNATIONS,SHOWAPPROVALFORNEWPEACETREATYBETWEENREPUBLICANDCOLONIES

ELECTORPRIMOANNOUNCESSTARTOFNEW

RANKINGSYSTEMTOREPLACEFORMERTRIALS

NEWBORDERCITIESBETWEENREPUBLICANDCOLONIESTOBERENAMEDTHEUNITEDCITIES,TOBEGINALLOWINGIMMIGRATIONFROMBOTHNATIONSSTARTINGLATENEXTYEAR

SENATORMARIANADUPREEOFFICIALLYINDUCTEDASPRINCEPSOFTHESENATE

Thenewsheadlinesbringafaintsmiletomyface.Lastnight,AndenhadstoppedbymyapartmenttotellmeinpersonaboutMariana.I’dtoldhimthatIwouldextendmycongratulationstoherdirectly.“She’sverygoodatwhatshedoes,”Isaid.“MoresothanIwas.I’mhappyforher.”

Andenbowedhishead.“Youwouldhavebeenbetterinthelongrun,Ithink,”herepliedwithagentlesmile.“Youunderstandthepeople.ButI’mhappythatyou’rebackwhereyoufeelthemostcomfortable.Ourtroopsareluckytohaveyou.”Hehesitatedthen,andforamomenthetookmyhandinhis.Irememberthesoftneopreneliningofhisgloves,thesilvershineofhiscufflinks.“Imightnotgettoseemuchofyounow.Maybeit’sbestthatway,isn’tit?Still,pleasedodropbynowandthen.It’llbenicetohearfromyou.”

“Likewise,”Ireplied,squeezinghishandinreturn.Mythoughtssnapbacktothepresent.Oneofthedoctorshasemergedfrom

thehallwaynearDay’sroom.Hecatchessightofme,takesadeepbreath,andapproaches.Istraighten,tensing.It’sbeenalongtimesinceI’veheardanyrealupdatesonDay’sconditionfromDr.Kann.Apartofmewantstojumpupinexcitement,becauseperhapsthenewsisgood;anotherpartofmecringesinfear,incasethenewsisbad.Myeyesscanthedoctor’sface,searchingforclues.(Pupilsslightlydilated,faceanxious,butnotinthemannerofonewhoisabouttobreaktheworstnews.Therearehintsofjoyonhisface.)Mypulsequickens.Whatishegoingtotellme?Orperhapsit’snonewsatall—perhapshe’ssimplygoingtotellmewhatheusuallydoes.Notmuchchangetoday,I’mafraid,butatleasthe’sstillstable.I’vegrownsousedtohearingthat.

Dr.Kannpausesbeforeme.Headjustshisglassesandscratchesunconsciouslyathistrimmedsalt-and-pepperbeard.“Goodmorning,Ms.Iparis,”hesays.

“Howishe?”Iask,myusualgreeting.Dr.Kannsmiles,buthesitates(anotheroddity;thenewsmustbesignificant).

“Wonderfulnews.”Myheartstopsforasecond.“Dayhaswokenup.Lessthananhourago.”

“He’sawake?”Ibreathe.He’sawake.Suddenlythenewsistoooverwhelming,andI’mnotsurewhetherIcanbearit.Istudyhisfacecarefully.

“There’smoretoitthanthat,though.Isn’tthere?”Dr.Kannputsbothhandsonmyshoulders.“Idon’twanttoworryyou,Ms.

Iparis,notatall.Dayhaspulledthroughhissurgeryremarkablywell—whenhewokeup,heaskedforwaterandthenforhisbrother.Heseemsquitealertandcoherent.Weranaquickscanofhisbrain.”Hisvoiceturnsmoreexcited.“We’llneedtodoamorethoroughcheck,ofcourse,butuponfirstglanceitseemseverythinghasnormalized.Hishippocampuslookshealthy,andsignalsseemtobefiringnormally.Inalmosteveryaspect,theDaythatweknowisback.”

Tearsprickleattheedgesofmyeyes.TheDaythatweknowisback.Afterfivemonthsofwaiting,thenewsissosudden.Oneminutehewaslyingunconsciousinbed,hangingontolifenightbynight,andnowhe’sawake.Justlikethat.Ibreakintoasmilewiththedoctor,andbeforeIcanstopmyself,Ihughim.Helaughs,pattingmyheadawkwardly,butIdon’tcare.IwanttoseeDay.“Canhehavevisitors?”Iask.Then,abruptly,Irealizewhatthedoctoractuallysaid.“Whydoyousay‘almost’?”

Thedoctor’ssmilewavers.Headjustshisglassesagain.“It’snothingwecan’tfixoverthecourseofextendedtherapy.Yousee,thehippocampusregionaffectsmemories,bothshort-andlong-term.ItseemsthatDay’slong-termmemories—hisfamily,hisbrotherEden,hisfriendTess,andsoon—areintact.Afterafewquestions,however,itseemslikehehasverylittlerecollectionofbothpeopleandeventsfromthelastyearortwo.Wecallitretrogradeamnesia.Heremembershisfamily’sdeaths,forinstance...”Dr.Kann’svoicetrailsoffuncomfortablyhere.“ButhedoesnotseemfamiliarwithCommanderJameson’sname,ortherecentColonies’invasion.Healsodoesn’tseemtorecallyou.”

Mysmilefades.“He...doesn’trememberme?”“Ofcourse,thisissomethingthatcanhealovertime,withpropertherapy,”

Dr.Kannagainreassuresme.“Hisshort-termmemoryabilitiesareworkingwell.HeremembersmostthingsItellhim,andformsnewmemorieswithouttoomuchissue.Ijustwantedtowarnyoubeforeyouseehim.Don’tbestartledthathemightnotrememberyou.Takeyourtimeandreintroduceyourselftohim.Gradually,perhapsinafewyears’time,hisoldmemoriesmightcomeback.”

Inodatthedoctorasifinadream.“Okay,”Iwhisper.“Youcanseehimnow,ifyou’dlike.”Hesmilesatme,asifhe’sdelivering

thegreatestnewsintheworld.Andheis.Butwhenheleavesme,Ijuststandthereforamoment.Mymindinahaze.

Thinking.Lost.ThenItakeslowstepstowardthehallwaywhereDay’shospitalroomis,thecorridorclosinginaroundmelikeafoggy,blurrytunnel.Theonly

thingrunningthroughmyheadisthememoryofmydesperateprayeroverDay’swoundedbody,thepromiseIhadoffereduptotheheavensinexchangeforhislife.

Lethimlive.Iamwillingtosacrificeanythingtomakethishappen.Myheartsinks,turnsgray.Iunderstandnow.Iknowthatsomethinghas

answeredmyprayer,andatthesametimehasalsotoldmewhatmysacrificemustbe.IhavebeenofferedachancetoneverhurtDayagain.

Istepintothehospitalroom.Dayisalert,proppeduponpillowsandstartlinglyhealthierthanthetimesI’veseenhimlyingunconsciousandwanoverthepastfewmonths.Butsomethingisdifferentnow.Day’seyesfollowmewithoutahintoffamiliarityinthem;he’swatchingmewiththepolite,warydistanceofastranger,thewayhelookedatmewhenwefirstmet.

Hedoesn’tknowwhoIam.Myheartaches,pullingatmeasIdrawclosertohisbedside.IknowwhatI

havetodo.“Hi,”hesayswhenIsitonhisbed.Hiseyeswandercuriouslyacrossmy

face.“Hi,”Ireplysoftly.“DoyouknowwhoIam?”Daylooksguilty,whichonlydigstheknifeindeeper.“ShouldI?”Ittakesallofmyeffortnottocry,tobearthethoughtthatDayhasforgotten

everythingbetweenus—ournighttogether,theordealswe’vebeenthrough,allthatwe’vesharedandlost.Wehavebeenerasedfromhismemory,leavingnothingbehind.TheDaythatIknewisnothere.

Icouldtellhimrightnow,ofcourse.IcouldremindhimofwhoIam,thatI’mJuneIparis,thegirlhehadoncesavedonthestreetsandfalleninlovewith.Icouldtellhimeverything,justlikeDr.Kannsaid,anditcouldpossiblytriggerhisoldmemories.Tellhim,June.Justtellhim.You’llbesohappy.It’dbesoeasy.

ButIopenmymouthandnosoundcomesout.Ican’tdoit.Begoodtohim,Tesshadtoldme.Promise.SolongasIremaininDay’slife,Iwillhurthim.Anyotheralternativeis

impossible.Ithinkofthewayhehadcrouched,sobbing,athisfamily’skitchentable,mourningwhatIhadtakenawayfromhim.Nowfatehashandedthesolutiontomeonasilverplatter—Daysurvivedhisordeal,andinreturn,Ineedtostepoutofhislife.Eventhoughhelooksatmenowlikeastranger,henolongerhasthelookofpainandtragedythatalwaysseemedtocomewiththepassionandlovehegazedatmewith.Nowheisfree.

Heisfreeofus,leavingmeastheonlybearerofourpast’sburden.SoIswallowhard,smile,andbowmyheadtohim.“Day,”Iforcemyselfto

say,“it’sgoodtomeetyou.IwassentbytheRepublictoseehowyou’redoing.It’swonderfultoseeyouawakeagain.Thecountryisgoingtorejoicewhentheyhearthegoodnews.”

Daynodspolitelyinreturn,histensenessunmistakable.“Thankyou,”hesayswarily.“ThedoctorstellmethatI’vebeenoutforfivemonths.Whathappened?”

“YouwereinjuredduringabattlebetweentheRepublicandtheColonies,”Ireply.EverythingI’msayingsoundslikeit’scomingfromsomeoneelse’smouth.“YousavedyourbrotherEden.”

“IsEdenhere?”Day’seyeslightupwithrecognition,andabeautifulsmileblossomsonhisface.ThesightofitbringsmepainevenasIamhappythatheremembershisbrother.Iwantsomuchtoseethatlookoffamiliarityonhisfacewhenhe’stalkingaboutme.

“Edenwillbesohappytoseeyou.Thedoctorsaresendingforhim,sohe’llarriveshortly.”Ireturnhissmile,andthistimeit’sagenuineone,ifbittersweet.WhenDaystudiesmyfaceagain,Iclosemyeyesandbowslightlytohim.

It’stimetoletgo.“Day,”Isay,carefullychoosingwhatmyfinalwordstohimshouldbe.“It

hasbeensuchaprivilegeandhonortofightbyyourside.You’vesavedmanymoreofusthanyou’lleverknow.”Forasmallmoment,Ifixmyeyesonhis,tellinghimsilentlyeverythingthatI’llneversaytohimaloud.“Thankyou,”Iwhisper.“Foreverything.”

Daylookspuzzledbytheemotioninmyvoice,buthebowshisheadinreturn.“Thehonor’smine,”hereplies.Myheartbreaksinsorrowatthelackofwarmthinhisvoice,thewarmthIknowIwouldhaveheardhadherememberedeverything.IfeeltheabsenceoftheachinglovethatI’vecometoyearnfor,thatIwantedsomuchtoearn.Itisgonenow.

IfheknewwhoIwas,Iwouldsaysomethingelsetohimnow,somethingIshould’vesaidtohimmoreoftenwhenIhadthechance.NowIamsureofmyfeelings,andit’stoolate.SoIfoldthethreewordsbackintomyheart,forhissake,andrisefromhisbed.Isoakineverylast,wonderfuldetailofhisfaceandstoreitinmymemory,hopingIcantakehimwithmewhereverIgo.Weexchangequietsalutes.

ThenIturnawayforthelasttime.

***

Twoweekslater,whatfeelsliketheentirecityofLosAngelesturnsouttoseeDayleavethecountryforgood.OnthemorningIleftDay’sbedside,Antarcticacamecallingforbothhimandhisbrother.They’dtakennoteofEden’sgiftedtouchwithengineeringandofferedhimaplaceinoneoftheiracademies.Atthesametime,theyofferedDaythechancetogoalong.

Idon’tjointhecrowds.Istayinmyapartmentinstead,watchingtheeventsunfoldwhileOlliesleepscontentedlybesideme.Thestreetsaroundmycomplexareteemingwithpeople,alljostlingwithoneanothertowatchtheJumboTrons.TheirmuffledchaosturnsintowhitenoiseasIwatchitunfoldonmyscreen.

DANIELALTANWINGANDBROTHERTOLEAVETONIGHTFORROSSCITY,ANTARCTICA

That’swhattheheadlinessay.Onthescreen,DaywavesatthepeoplegatheredaroundhisapartmentasheandEdenareescortedtoajeepbyacitypatrol.IshouldcallhimDaniel,likethescreendoes.PerhapshetrulyisjustDanielnow,withnoneedforanaliasanymore.Ilookonasheletshisbrothergetintothevehicle,andthenfollows,lostcompletelyfromview.It’ssostrange,IthinktomyselfasmyhandmovesabsentlyacrossOllie’sfur.Notlongago,thecitypatrolswouldhavearrestedhimonsight.Now,he’sleavingtheRepublicastheirchampion,tobecelebratedandrememberedforalifetime.

Iturnthemonitoroff,thensitinthequietdarknessofmyapartment,savoringthesilence.Outsideonthestreets,peoplearestillchantinghisname.Theychantitdeepintothenight.

Whenthecommotionfinallydiesdown,Igetupfrommycouch.Ipullonmybootsandacoat,thenwrapathinscarfaroundmyneckandheadoutintothestreets.Myhairblowsinthebalmynightbreeze,wispscatchingnowandthenonmylashes.ForawhileIwanderthequietroadsonmyown.I’mnotsurewhereI’mgoing.MaybeI’mtryingtofindmywaybacktoDay.Butthat’sillogical.He’salreadygone,andhisabsenceleavesahollow,achingpaininmychest.Myeyeswaterfromthewind.

IwalkforanhourbeforeIfinallytakeashorttrainridetoLakesector.There,Istrollalongtheedgeofthewater,admiringthelightsofdowntownaswellasthenow-unused,unlitTrialstadium,ahauntingreminderofeventslonggone.Giantwaterwheelschurninthelake,therhythmoftheirmovement

settlingintoacomfortingbackgroundsymphony.Idon’tknowwhereI’mgoing.AllIknowisthat,inthismoment,LakesectorseemsmorelikehometomethanRubydoes.Here,I’mnotsoalone.Onthesestreets,IcanstillfeelthebeatingofDay’sheart.

Ibegintoretracemyoldsteps,pastthesamelakesidebuildingsandthesamecrumblinghomes,thestepsI’dtakenwhenIwasacompletelydifferentperson,fullofhateandconfusion,lossandignorance.It’sanoddfeelingtowanderthesesamestreetsasthepersonIamnow.Atoncefamiliarandstrange.

Anhourlater,Ipausealonebeforeanondescriptalleywaythatbranchesoffanemptystreet.Attheendofthisalley,anabandonedhigh-risetowerstwelvestoriesup,eachofitswindowsboardedupanditsfirstfloorjustthewayIrememberit,withmissingwindowsandbrokenglassonthefloor.Istepintotheshadowsofthebuilding,remembering.ThisiswhereDayhadfirstreachedhishandouttomeinthemidstofsmokeanddustandsavedmesolongago,beforeweevendiscoveredwhotheotherwas;thiswasthestartofthefewpreciousnightswhenwesimplykneweachotherasaboyonthestreetsandagirlwhoneededhelp.

Thememorycomesintosharpfocus.There’savoicetellingmetogetup.WhenIlooktomyside,Iseeaboy

holdingouthishandtome.Hehasbrightblueeyes,dirtonhisface,andabeat-upoldcapon,andatthismoment,IthinkhemightbethemostbeautifulboyI’veeverseen.

Mywanderinghasledmetothebeginningofourjourneytogether.Isupposeit’sonlyfittingformetobehereatthatjourney’send.

Istandinthedarknessforalongtime,lettingmyselfsinkintothememoriesweonceshared.Thesilencewrapsmeincomfortingarms.OneofmyhandsreachesovertomysideandfindstheoldscarfromwhereKaedehadwoundedme.Somanymemories,somuchjoyandsadness.

Tearsstreamdownmyface.IwonderwhatDayisthinkingatthismomentwhileonhiswaytoaforeignland,andwhetherornotsomesmallpartofhim,evenifitisburieddeep,holdssliversofme,piecesofwhatweoncehad.

ThelongerIstandhere,thelightertheburdenonmyheartfeels.Daywillmoveonandlivehislife.SowillI.Wewillbeokay.Someday,perhapsinthefaranddistantfuture,we’llfindeachotheragain.Untilthen,Iwillrememberhim.Ireachouttotouchoneofthewalls,imaginingthatIcanfeelhislifeandwarmththroughit,andIlookaroundagain,uptowardtherooftopsandthenallthewaytothenightskywhereafewfaintstarscanbeseen,andthereIthinkIreallycan

seehim.Icanfeelhispresencehereineverystonehehastouched,everypersonhehasliftedup,everystreetandalleyandcitythathehaschangedinthefewyearsofhislife,becauseheistheRepublic,heisourlight,andIloveyou,Iloveyou,untilthedaywemeetagainIwillholdyouinmyheartandprotectyouthere,grievingwhatweneverhad,cherishingwhatwedid.Iwishyouwerehere.

Iloveyou,always.

LOSANGELES,CALIFORNIAREPUBLICOFAMERICA

TENYEARSLATER

1836HOURS,JULY11.BATALLASECTOR,LOSANGELES.78°F.

TODAYISMYTWENTY-SEVENTHBIRTHDAY.Icelebratemostofmybirthdayswithouttoomuchtrouble.Onmy

eighteenth,IjoinedAnden,acoupleofSenators,PascaoandTess,andseveralformerDrakeclassmatesforalow-keydinneratarooftoploungeinRubysector.MynineteenthhappenedonaboatinNewYorkCity,theColonies’rebuiltversionofanolddrownedcitywhoseoutskirtsnowslopegentlyintotheAtlanticOcean.I’dbeeninvitedtoapartythrownforseveralinternationaldelegatesfromAfrica,Canada,andMexico.Ispentmytwentiethcomfortablyalone,tuckedintobedwithOlliesnoringonmylap,watchingabriefnewscastabouthowDay’sbrotherEdenhadgraduatedearlyfromhisacademyinAntarctica,tryingtocatchaglimpseofhowDaylookedasatwenty-year-old,takinginthenewsthathehimselfhadbeenrecruitedbyAntarctica’sintelligenceagency.Mytwenty-firstbirthdaywasanelaborateaffairinVegas,whereAndeninvitedmetoasummerfestivalandthenendedupkissingmeinmyhotelroom.Twenty-second:thefirstbirthdayIcelebratedwithAndenasmyofficialboyfriend.Twenty-third:spentataninductionceremonythatplacedmeasthecommanderofallsquadronsinCalifornia,theyoungestleadcommanderinRepublichistory.Twenty-fourth:abirthdayspentwithoutOllie.Twenty-fifth:dinneranddancingwithAndenonboardtheRSConstellation.Twenty-sixth:spentwithPascaoandTessasItoldthemaboutbeingfreshlybrokenupfromAnden,howtheyoungElectorandIcametoamutualagreementthatIsimplycouldn’tlovehimthewayhewishedIwould.

Someoftheseyearswerespentinjoy,othersinsadness—butthesaddesteventswerealwaystolerable.Farworsethingshavehappened,andnothingtragicduringtheselateryearscouldcomparewiththeeventsfrommyteenage

years.Buttodayisdifferent.I’vebeendreadingthisparticularbirthdayforyears,becauseittakesmebacktosomeoftheeventsfrommypastthatI’vetriedsohardtokeepburied.

Ispendmostofthedayinafairlyquietmood.Iriseearly,followmyusualwarm-uproutinesatthetrack,andthenheadtoBatallasectortoorganizemycaptainsfortheirvariouscityoperations.TodayI’mleadingtwoofmybestpatrolstoescortAndenduringameetingwithColonies’delegates.Wemaynotsharethesameapartmentanymore,butthatdoesn’tchangehowfiercelyIwatchoverhissafety.HewillalwaysbemyElector,andIintendtokeepitthatway.Today,heandtheColoniesaredeepinthemiddleofdiscussionsaboutthesmoothimmigrationstatusalongourborder,wheretheUnitedCitieshaveturnedintoflourishingareaswithbothColoniesandRepubliccivilians.Whatwasonceaharddividinglinebetweenusnowlookslikeagradient.IlookonfromthesidelinesasAndenshakeshandswiththedelegatesandposesforphotos.I’mproudofwhathe’sdone.Slowsteps,butstepsnonetheless.Metiaswould’vebeenhappytoseeit.SowouldDay.

Whenlateafternooncomes,IfinallyleaveBatallaHallandheadtoasmooth,ivory-whitebuildingattheeastendofBatallaSquare.There,IshowmyIDattheentranceandmakemywayuptothebuilding’stwelfthfloor.Itracefamiliarstepsdownthehall,mybootsechoingagainstthemarblefloors,untilIstopinfrontofafour-square-inchtombstonemarkerwiththenameCAPTAINMETIASIPARISembeddedinitscrystal-clearsurface.

Istandthereforawhile,thensitcross-leggedbeforeitandbowmyhead.“Hi,Metias,”Isayinasoftvoice.“Today’smybirthday.DoyouknowhowoldIamnow?”

Iclosemyeyes,andthroughthesilencesurroundingmeIthinkIcansenseaghostlyhandonmyshoulder,mybrother’sgentlepresencethatI’mabletofeeleverynowandthen,inthesequietmoments.Iimaginehimsmilingdownatme,hisexpressionrelaxedandfree.

“I’mtwenty-seventoday,”Icontinueinawhisper.Myvoicecatchesforamoment.“We’rethesameagenow.”

Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Iamnolongerhislittlesister.NextyearIwillstepacrossthelineandhewillstillbeinthesameplace.Fromnowon,Iwillbeolderthanheeverwas.

Itrytomoveontootherthoughts,soItellmybrother’sghostaboutmyyear,mystrugglesandsuccessesincommandingmyownpatrols,myhecticworkweeks.Itellhim,asIalwaysdo,thatImisshim.Andasalways,Icanhear

thewhisperofhisghostagainstmyear,hisgentlereplythathemissesmetoo.Thathe’slookingoutforme,fromwhereverheis.

Anhourlater,whenthesunhasfinallysetandthelightstreaminginfromthewindowsfadesaway,Irisefrommypositionandslowlymakemywayoutofthebuilding.Ilistentosomemissedmessagesonmyearpiece.Tessshouldbeleavingherhospitalshiftsoon,mostlikelyarmedwithaslewofnewstoriesaboutherpatients.InthefirstyearsafterDayleft,thetwoofthemstayedinclosecontact,andTesswouldkeepmeconstantlyupdatedabouthowhewasdoing.ThingslikeEden’simprovingeyesight.Day’snewjob.Antarcticangames.Butastheyearswenton,theirchattergrewlessfrequent,Tessgrewupandintoherownlife,andgradually,theirconversationsdwindledtobriefannualgreetings.Sometimesnoneatall.

I’dbelyingifIsaidIdidn’tmissherstoriesaboutDay.Butstill,IfindmyselflookingforwardtosomedinnerchatterwithherandPascao,whoshouldbeheadingoverfromDrakeUniversity,probablyeagertosharehislatestadventuresintrainingcadets.IsmileasIthinkaboutwhattheymightsay.Myheartfeelslighternow,alittlefreeraftermyconversationwithmybrother.MythoughtswanderbrieflytoDay.Iwonderwhereheis,whohe’swith,whetherhe’shappy.

Ireally,sincerely,deeplyhopethatheis.Thesectorisn’tbusytonight(wehaven’tneededasmanystreetpoliceinthe

lastfewyears),andasidefromafewsoldiershereandthere,I’malone.Mostofthestreetlightshaven’tturnedonyet,andinthegatheringdarknessIcanseeahandfulofstarsflickeringoverhead.TheglowfromJumboTronscastsakaleidoscopeofcolorsacrossthegraypavementofBatallasector,andIcatchmyselfwalkingdeliberatelyunderneaththem,holdingahandouttostudythecolorsthatdanceacrossmyskin.Iwatchsnippetsofnewsonthescreenswithmilddisinterestwhileskimmingthroughmymissedmessages.Theepaulettesonmyshouldersclinksoftly.

ThenIpauseonamessageTesshadleftmeearlierintheafternoon.Hervoicefillsmyears,fullofwarmthandplayfulness.

“Hey.Checkthenews.”That’sallshesays.Ifrown,thenlaughalittleatTess’sgame.What’sgoing

oninthenews?Myeyesreturntothescreens,thistimewithmorecuriosity.Noneofitcatchesmyeye.Ikeepsearching,lookingforwhatTessmighthavebeentalkingabout.Stillnothing.Then...onesmall,nondescriptheadline,sobriefthatImusthavebeenskippingoveritallday.Iblink,asifImighthave

misunderstoodit,andreaditagainbeforeitcyclesout.

EDENBATAARWINGINLOSANGELESTOINTERVIEWFORBATALLAENGINEERINGPOSITION

Eden?Arippleglidesacrossthesilencethathasstilledmeallday.IreadtheheadlineoverandoveragainbeforeIfinallyconvincemyselfthattheyareindeedtalkingaboutDay’syoungerbrother.Edenisheretointerviewforapotentialjob.

HeandDayareintown.Ilookaroundthestreetsinstinctively.They’rehere,walkingthesamestreets.

He’shere.Ishakemyheadatthelittleadolescentgirlwhohassuddenlywokenupinmyheart.Evenafterallthistime,Ihope.Calmdown,June.Butstill,myheartsitsinmythroat.Tess’smessageechoesinmymind.Ireturntowalkingdownthestreet.MaybeIcanfindoutwherethey’restaying,justgetaglimpseofhowhe’sdoingafterallthistime.IdecidetocallTessbackonceI’vereachedthetrainstation.

Fifteenminuteslater,I’mattheoutskirtsofBatallasector;thetrainstationleadingtoRubyappearsaroundthecorner.Thedarknesshaslengthenedenoughforthestreetlightstoturnon,andafewsoldiersareheadingdowntheoppositesidewalk;asidefromthem,I’mtheonlyoneonthisblock.

ButwhenIreachaslightcurveinthestreet,Iseetwootherpeopleheadedinmydirection.Istopinmytracks.ThenIfrownandpeercloseratthestreetbeforeme.I’mstillnotsureofwhatI’mseeing.

Apairofyoungmen.Detailsflitautomaticallythroughmymind,sofamiliarnowthatIhardlythinktwiceaboutthem.Botharetallandlean,withpaleblondhairthatstandsoutinthedimlylitnight.InstantlyIknowthattheymustberelated,withtheirsimilarfeaturesandeasygaits.Theoneontheleftwearsglassesandistalkinganimatedly,brushinggoldencurlsoutofhiseyesashegoes,hishandspaintingsomesortofdiagraminfrontofhim.Hekeepsrollinghissleevesbackuptohiselbows,andhiscollarshirtislooseandrumpled.Acarefreesmilelightsuphisface.

Theyoungmanontherightseemsmorereserved,listeningpatientlytohiscurly-hairedcompanionwhilehekeepshishandstuckedcasuallyinhispockets.Asmallgrintouchesthecornersofhislips.HishairisdifferentfromwhatIremember,nowshortandendearinglyunruly,andashewalksheoccasionallyrunsahandthroughit,leavingitevenmorewayward.Hiseyesareasblueas

ever.Eventhoughhe’soldernow,withthefaceofayoungmaninsteadoftheteenagerI’dknownsowell,hestillshowshintsofthatoldfirewheneverhelaughsathisbrother’swords,momentsofstartlingbrightnessandlife.

Myheartbeginstobeat,cuttingthroughtheheavinessthatweighsonmychest.DayandEden.

Ikeepmyheaddownastheydrawcloser.Butfromthecornerofmyvision,IseeEdennoticemefirst.Hepausesforasecondinthemiddleofhissentence,andaquicksmileappearsonhisface.Hiseyesflickertohisbrother.

Daycastsmealook.Theintensityofitcatchesmeoffguard—Ihaven’tbeensubjectedtohisgaze

insolongthatsuddenlyIcan’tcatchmybreath.Istraightenandquickenmypace.Ineedtogetoutofhere.Otherwise,I’mnotsurewhetherIcankeepmyemotionsfromspillingontomyface.

Wepasseachotherwithoutaword.Mylungsfeelliketheymightburst,andItakeafewquickbreathstosteadymyself.Iclosemyeyes.AllIcanhearistherushofbloodinmyears,thesteadythumpingofmyheart.GraduallyIhearthesoundoftheirfootstepsfadebehindme.Asinkingfeelingslowlysettles.Iswallowhard,forcingafloodofmemoriesoutofmymind.

I’mheadingtowardthetrainstation.I’mgoinghome.I’mnotgoingtolookback.

Ican’t.Then...Ihearfootstepsbehindmeagain.Hurriedbootsagainstpavement.I

pause,steelmyself,andlookovermyshoulder.It’sDay.Hecatchesuptome.Somedistancebehindhim,Edenwaitswith

hishandsinhispockets.Daystaresintomyeyeswithasoft,puzzledexpression—itsendsanelectricshiverdownmyspine.“Excuseme,”hesays.Oh,thatvoice.Deeper,gentlerthanIremember,withouttherawnessofchildhoodandwiththeneweleganceofanadult.“Havewemetbefore?”

Foramoment,I’matalossforwords.WhatdoIsay?I’vespentsomanyyearsconvincingmyselfthatwenolongerknoweachother.“No,”Iwhisper.“Sorry.”Inmymind,Ibegmyselftotellhimotherwise.

Dayfrowns,confusedforamoment.Herunshishandthroughhishair.Inthatgesture,Icatchaglimpseofsomethingshinyonhisfinger.It’saringmadeoutofwires.Ofpaperclips.Abreathescapesmeinshock.

HeisstillwearingthepaperclipringI’doncegivenhim.“Oh,”hefinallyreplies.“I’msorrytobotheryou,then.Ijust...Youlook

reallyfamiliar.Areyousurewedon’tknoweachotherfromsomewhere?”

Isearchhiseyesinsilence.Ican’tsayanything.Thereisasecretemotionemergingonhisfacenow,somewherebetweenstrangenessandfamiliarity,somethingthattellsmehe’sstrugglingtoplaceme,tofindwhereIbelong.Myheartprotests,reachingoutforhimtodiscoverit.Still,nowordscomeout.

Daysearchesmyfacewithhissoftgaze.Thenheshakeshishead.“Ihaveknownyou,”hemurmurs.“Alongtimeago.Idon’tknowwhere,butIthinkIknowwhy.”

“Why,then?”Iaskgently.He’squietforamoment.Thenhetakesastepcloser,closeenoughformeto

seethattinyrippleofimperfectioninhislefteye.Helaughsalittle,pinkcreepingontohischeeks.“I’msorry.Thisisgoingtosoundsostrange.”IfeellikeI’mlostinahaze.LikethisisadreamIdon’tdarewakefrom.“I...,”hebegins,asiflookingfortherightwords.“I’vebeensearchingalongtimeforsomethingIthinkIlost.”

Somethinghelost.Thewordsbringalumptomythroat,asuddensurgeofwildhope.“It’snotstrangeatall,”Ihearmyselfreply.

Daysmilesinreturn.Somethingsweetandyearningappearsinhiseyes.“IfeltlikeIfoundsomethingwhenIsawyoubackthere.Areyousure...doyouknowme?DoIknowyou?”

Idon’tknowwhattosay.Thepartofmethathadoncedecidedtostepoutofhislifetellsmetodoitagain,toprotecthimfromthisknowledgethathadhurthimsolongago.Tenyears...hasitreallybeenthatlong?Theotherpartofme,thegirlwhohadfirstmethimonthestreets,urgesmetotellhimthetruth.Finally,whenIdomanagetoopenmymouth,Isay,“Ihavetogomeetupwithsomefriends.”

“Oh.Sorry.”Dayclearshisthroat,unsureofhimself.“Idotoo,actually.AnoldfrienddowninRuby.”

AnoldfrienddowninRuby.Myeyeswiden.SuddenlyIknowwhyTesssoundedsomischievousonhermessage,whyshetoldmetowatchthenewstonight.“Isyourfriend’snameTess?”Iaskhesitantly.

It’sDay’sturntolooksurprised.Hegivesmeanintrigued,puzzledsmile.“Youknowher.”

WhatamIdoing?What’shappening?Thisreallyisalladream,andI’mterrifiedtowakeupfromit.I’vehadthisdreamtoomanytimes.Idon’twantittakenawayagain.“Yes,”Imurmur.“I’mhavingdinnerwithhertonight.”

Westareateachotherinsilence.Day’sfaceisseriousnow,andhisgazeissointensethatIcanfeelwarmthrunningthrougheveryinchofmybody.We

standtogetherlikethisforalong,longmoment,andforonce,Ihavenoideahowmuchtimehaspassed.“Idoremember,”hefinallysays.Isearchhiseyesforthatsameachingsadness,thetormentandanguishthathadalwaysbeentherewheneverweweretogether.ButIcannolongerseeit.Instead,Ifindsomethingelse...Iseeahealedwound,apermanentscarthathasneverthelessclosed,somethingfromachapterofhislifethathehasfinally,afteralltheseyears,madepeacewith.Isee...Canitbepossible?Canthisbetrue?

Iseepiecesofmemoriesinhiseyes.Piecesofus.Theyarebroken,andscattered,buttheyarethere,graduallycomingtogetheragainatthesightofme.Theyarethere.

“It’syou,”hewhispers.Thereiswonderinhisvoice.“Isit?”Iwhisperback,myvoicetremblingwithalltheemotionsI’vekept

hiddenforsolong.Dayissoclose,andhiseyesaresobright.“Ihope,”herepliessoftly,“toget

toknowyouagain.Ifyouareopentoit.ThereisafogaroundyouthatIwouldliketoclearaway.”

Hisscarswillneverfade.Iamcertainofthatmuch.Butperhaps...perhaps...withtime,withage,wecanbefriendsagain.Wecanheal.Perhapswecanreturntothatsameplaceweoncestood,whenwewerebothyoungandinnocent.Perhapswereallycanmeetlikeotherpeopledo,onsomestreetonebalmyevening,whereweeachcatchtheother’seyeandstoptointroduceourselves.EchoesofDay’soldwishcomebacktomenow,emergingfromthemistofourearlydays.

Perhapsthereissuchathingasfate.StillIwait,toounsureofmyselftoanswer.Icannottakethefirststep.I

shouldn’t.Thatstepbelongstohim.Foramoment,Ithinkitwon’thappen.ThenDayreachesoutandtouchesmyhandwithhis.Heenclosesitina

handshake.Andjustlikethat,Iamlinkedwithhimagain,Ifeelthepulseofourbondandhistoryandlovethroughourhands,likeawaveofmagic,thereturnofalong-lostfriend.Ofsomethingmeanttobe.Thefeelingbringstearstomyeyes.Perhapswecantakeastepforwardtogether.

“Hi,”hesays.“I’mDaniel.”“Hi,”Ireply.“I’mJune.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Theendofthepathisastrangeandwistfulplace.Forthepastfewyears,I’vebreathedtheworldofLegend;mylifebecamethelivesofDayandJune,andthroughthemIsawmyownfears,hopes,andaspirationsplayoutacrosstheircanvas.NowI’vereachedthepointwhereourstoriesdiverge.Theyareofftolivebeyondtheconfinesofthetrilogy;Iamleftwavingtothemfromthesidelines.Idon’tknowwherethey’llgo,butIthinkthey’regoingtobeokay.

I’mnotaloneonthesidelines,ofcourse.WithmearethoseIstartedwithandthoseImetalongtheway:

Myinimitableliteraryagent,KristinNelson,andTeamNLA:AnitaMumm,SaraMegibow,LoriBennett,andAngieHodapp.Thankyou,thankyou,thankyouforstandingwithmeoneveryhill.

Myamazingeditors,JenBesser,AriLewin,andShaunaFayRossano,whovanquishedmyBook3demonswithstalwartbattlecries.Wemadeit!Idon’tknowwhatI’ddowithoutyou.Loveyouladies.

TeamPutnamChildren’s,TeamSpeak,andTeamPenguin:DonWeisberg,JenniferLoja,MarisaRussell,LauraAntonacci,AnnaJarzab,JessicaSchoffel,ElyseMarshall,JillBailey,ScottieBowditch,LoriThorn,LindaMcCarthy,ErinDempsey,ShantaNewlin,EmilyRomero,ErinGallagher,MiaGarcia,LisaKelly,CourtneyWood,MarieKent,SaraOrtiz,ElizabethZajac,KristinGilson,andEileenKreit.Youguysarethemostepicteamsagirlcouldhaveonherside.

TheincrediblepeopleatCBSFilms,TempleHill,UTA,andALF&L:WolfgangHammer,GreyMunford,MattGilhooley,AllyMielnicki,IsaacKlausner,WyckGodfrey,MartyBowen,GinaMartinez,WayneAlexander,andmyfabulousfilmagent,KassieEvashevski.Thankyouallforcontinuingtobelieveinthiswriter’sdreams.

WickedSweetGames:MattSherwood,PhilHarvey,KoleHicks,BobbyHernandez,andofcourse,theElectorPrimo.CitiesofLegendisagamefullofbadassery,becauseyouguysarebadass.

MyincredibleforeignpublishersfortakingLegendaboveandbeyond,andsometimesevenstraighttoPasadenawithfansintow!(I’mlookingatyou,marvelousRuth.)

Myirreplaceablewriterfriends:JJ,Ello,Andrea,Beth,JessSpotswood,Jess

Khoury,Leigh,Sandy,Amie,Ridley,Kami,Margie,Tahereh,Ransom,Cindy,Malinda,andthefabulousPubCrawlladies.Findingone’stribeisapreciousthing.Icannotproperlyexpresswhatyouallmeantome.Thankyouforyourfriendship.

Thefambam,myfriends,Andre,myauntanduncle,mywonderfulfiancé,andmostofall,mymom.Youarealwaysthere,nomatterwhat.Loveyou.

Finally,Ineedtogiveaspecialacknowledgmentattheendofthispath:Tomyreaders.ItisbecauseofyouthatIcancontinuetodowhatIlove.Iam

sograteful.Tomyyoungreaders,inparticular:thebooksIreadasachildoccupyaprotected,goldenspaceinmyheart.ItisadeeplyhumblingthoughtthatLegendmighthavetheprivilegeofsittinginthatgoldenspaceinsomeofyourhearts.Iamsotouchedbythee-mailsandlettersthatyouallhavesentovertheyears.Youarearemarkablegenerationofyoungpeople,andyouareallgoingtodoamazingthingswithyourlives.

Thankyouforthehonoroftellingyoustories.

http://links.penguin.com/type/eBookLanding/isbn/9780698135413