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“We’re not sure,” Mikhael admits as we enter a long hall. “But our simulations are solid, and we ran several lab cultures with infected cells. We should start seeing Tess’s health improve very soon.”
We stop at the long glass windows of Tess’s room. She lies in a delirious half sleep on her bed, and all around her are lab techs rushing about in full suits, monitors dictating her vital signs, charts and graphs beamed against the walls. An IV’s injected into one of her arms. I study her face, searching for some sign of consciousness, and fail to find it.
Static in my earpiece. An incoming call. I frown, press a hand to my ear, and then click my mike on. A second later, I hear Day’s voice. “Are you okay?” His first thought. Of course it is. The static is so severe that I can hardly understand what he’s saying.
“I’m fine,” I reply, hoping he can hear me. “Day, listen to me—we’ve found a cure.”
No reply, just static, loud and unrelenting. “Day?” I say again, and on the other side I hear some crackling, something like the desperation to communicate with me. But I can’t get us hooked up. Unusual. The reception on these military bands is usually crystal clear. It’s as if something else is blocking all of our frequencies. “Day?” I try again.
I finally catch his voice again. It holds a tension that reminds me of when he’d chosen to walk away from me so many months ago. It sends a river of dread through my veins. “I’m giving—announcement on board a Colonies airship—ellor won’t have it any other way—”
On board a Colonies airship. The Chancellor would hold all the cards in that case—if Day were to make a sudden move, or make an announcement that went against what they agreed to, the Chancellor could have him arrested or murdered right on the spot. “Don’t do it,” I whisper automatically. “You don’t have to go. We’ve found the cure, I was the missing piece of the puzzle.”
“—June?—”
Then no answer, just more static. I try again twice more before I click my mike off in frustration. Beside me, I can see the lab tech also trying in vain to make a call.
And then I remember the shadow cast across the building we’re in. My frustration fades immediately, followed by waves of terror and comprehension. Oh no. The Colonies. They’re blocking our frequencies—they’ve taken them over. I had not thought that they would make their move so quickly. I rush over to the window looking out at Los Angeles’s cityscape, then turn my eyes skyward. I can see the enormous Colonies airship that hovers overhead—and when I look more closely, I notice that smaller planes are leaving its deck and circling lower.
Mikhael joins me. “We can’t reach the Elector,” he says. “It seems all the frequencies are jammed.”
Is this in preparation for Day’s announcement? He’s in trouble. I know it.
Just as this thought crosses my mind, the doors at the end of the hall swing open. Five soldiers come marching in, their guns hoisted, and in a flash I can see that these are not Republic soldiers at all—but Colonies troops, with their navy blue coats and gold stars. Panic rushes through me from head to toe. Instinctively I move toward Eden’s room, but the soldiers see me. Their leader waves his gun at me. My hand flies to my gun strapped to my waist—and then I remember that all of my weapons (save for one ankle knife) are lying useless back in Eden’s room.
“With the Republic’s surrender,” he says in a grandiose voice, “all reins of power have been transferred to Colonies’ officials. This is your commander telling you to stand aside and let us pass, so that we can run a thorough search.”
Mikhael throws up his hands and does as the official says. They draw closer. Memories whirl in my mind—they’re all lessons from my days at Drake, a stream of maneuvers that run through my head at the speed of light. I gauge them carefully. A small team sent up here to accomplish some specific task. Other teams must be swarming each of the floors, but I know these soldiers must have been sent up to us for something in particular. I brace myself, ready for a fight. It’s me they’re after.
As if he read my mind, Mikhael nods once at the soldiers. His arms stay up high in the air. “What do you want?”
The soldier answers, “A boy named Eden Bataar Wing.”
I know better than to suck in my breath and thus give away that Eden’s on this floor—but a tidal wave of fear washes over me. I was wrong. They’re not after me. They want Day’s brother. If Day’s forced to give his announcement on board the Chancellor’s airship, alone, he’ll be helpless if the Chancellor decides to take him hostage—and if he gets his hands on Eden, he’ll be able to control Day at his every whim. My thoughts rush even further. If the Colonies truly succeed in taking over the Republic today, then the Chancellor could use Day indefinitely as his own weapon, as a manipulator of the Republic’s people, for as long as the people continue to believe in Day as their hero.
I open my mouth before Mikhael can. “This floor just houses plague victims,” I say to the soldier. “If you’re looking for Day’s brother, he’ll be on a higher floor.”
The soldier’s gun swivels to me. He narrows his eyes in recognition. “You’re the Princeps-Elect,” he says. “Aren’t you? June Iparis.”
I lift my chin. “One of the Princeps-Elects, yes.”
For a moment, I think he might believe what I said about Eden. Some of his men even start shifting back toward the stairs. The soldier watches me for a long time, studying my eyes, and then looks down the hallway behind me, where Eden’s room lies. I don’t dare flinch.
