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I glance back at the bush as Raffe lets the rope take his

weight. The bush shudders. The knot shifts, but holds. For now. How long the little bush can withstand the force of Raffe’s weight is questionable.

Determination colors Raffe’s face as he pulls himself up inch by agonizingly slow inch. Below him, the dark, deep hole threatens. His feet search the hard dirt wall for leverage, but the dirt crumbles under his boots, making it almost impossible for him to gain a foothold.

Leaves rustle. Something snaps. A gasp rips from my throat as the rope shifts. The bush bends, and the roots begin to pull free of the ground. I grab the rope to alleviate some of the pressure, but the bush shifts again. Half the roots are showing. A glance over the edge tells me Raffe is still several inches from the surface.

“You might want to hurry,” I say.

Raffe grunts and pulls himself up another inch. The edge is just above him. One more pull, maybe two, and he will be close enough to reach the top. If the rope holds.

Raffe’s hand crests the edge. Instinctively, I scramble to my feet and grip his wrist with both of my hands and then lean back and pull. Raffe’s head appears. I feel a surge of triumph that is quickly replaced by terror as my boots start to slide across the dry earth toward the ravine. Raffe outweighs me by at least sixty pounds. While years of physical activity back home have made me stronger than most of the University candidates, I cannot hope to support Raffe’s weight much longer.

Sweat runs down my back. I fight to dig into the ground with the front of my boot. Raffe’s shoulders appear. His left hand grabs hold of a seedling as the bush holding the rope gives way. He lurches downward a fraction of an inch, sending me pitching forward. I hit the ground inches from the edge and scramble back as Raffe heaves himself up and over.

Raffe and I lie on our backs, breathing hard. We are dirty, covered with sweat, and safe.

Raffe speaks first. “You helped me again. Why?”

“Because it was the right thing to do.” I dig through my bag, pull out a bottle of water, and take a drink. Handing the bottle to Raffe, I say, “As soon as you feel up to it, we need to get going. There’s someone I need to talk to.”

“Tomas?” he asks.

“No. We’re not going back to the University yet.”

“Then where are we going?”

“President Collindar’s office.”

I wash Damone’s blood off my hands and coat with some of the water and change my blood-streaked pants for the extra ones in my bag before setting off for Tosu City. There are fewer skimmers in evidence on the streets today, probably because the government is shut down on weekends in order to give officials time to spend with their families and to tackle personal revitalization projects at home. Even the president isn’t in residence, which is why there is only one guard at the entrance and no staff wandering around when I arrive.

The guard checks my identification bracelet and allows me to enter. Raffe is denied entrance. He has to wait outside. I tell him I’ll be back in a minute and climb the stairs.

I spot Michal hunched over a small desk in the corner of his office, and feel a stab of betrayal. Since hearing the recording on the Transit Communicator, the only person I’ve felt I could trust was Michal. He confirmed that the recorder’s stored memories were real. He helped me communicate with my family and directed my fear and anger into assisting the rebellion to remove Dr. Barnes and bring an end to The Testing. I thought I could count on him for honesty. I was wrong. If Zeen is here with the rebels, Michal must know about it. Most likely, he facilitated an introduction and helped put the gun on my brother’s hip, shoving him into the path of danger.

Michal looks up and smiles. “Hi. I wondered if you’d drop by. Do you need a desk to work at?”

In case someone is listening, I reach into my bag and pull out the short analysis of the communication system I wrote for the president. “I’m just dropping off my work. Where should I leave it? I don’t want the president to think I neglected to do my assignment.”

Michal glances at the papers in my hand and stands. “Follow me.” He leads me back downstairs, through a couple of offices, to a small room I don’t remember seeing on our tour. “You can put your report in this box.”

Closing the door, he lowers his voice. “The president and her officials plan on announcing the debate about control of the University and The Testing on Monday morning. Per protocol, there will be three days of discussion. A vote will take place the day after the debate ends. If that measure is voted down, the other faction will be ready to begin their attack as soon as the vote of confidence is taken. If the president loses the vote, the members of the rebellion will be positioned throughout Tosu, ready to take out Dr. Barnes and his team. People in unrevitalized areas are being armed with weapons and instructions.”

I think about Zeen and feel panic bubble inside me.

“Why won’t the president wait?” It would give the rebels more time to find a peaceful solution. And more time for me to convince my brother to get out of harm’s way.

“Too many people know she plans on proposing a change of law. If she backs off now, she’ll look weak. Dr. Barnes has too many supporters ready to remove her if a vote of confidence is called. The other faction has convinced her that the only way to stay in power and end The Testing is to act now.”

“Did you know this was a possibility when you brought my brother here?” I don’t give him a chance to deny it. “I saw him, Michal. He’s calling himself Cris. Why did you bring him here when you know there’s a chance he’ll die?”

Michal shakes his head. “Zeen overheard your father and the magistrate discussing options to keep students from being selected for this year’s Testing. When he confronted them about their plans, he realized you might be in danger and insisted on coming to help you. Your father couldn’t talk him out of it, so he contacted me and asked that I find a way to bring him here and keep him safe. I thought if he was with the rebels, he’d be less likely to track you down on his own. I was the one who suggested your brother change his name so no one would associate him with you or your family. Just in case . . .”

In case the rebellion isn’t successful. So our family won’t be punished if Zeen is captured or killed. The way it sounds, both are strong possibilities. Unless, in the next couple days, someone can find and present the proof required to remove Dr. Barnes and his officials from power with a point of law instead of a war.

“I have an idea.” Before Michal can inquire about my plan, I ask him to wait for me to return, then I open the door and walk to the exit. For this to work, I have to put everything on the line. I have to once again go against my father’s instructions; I have to trust. Tomas would tell me this is a mistake, but he is not here, and I can see no other way. Zeen’s life and the lives of the other rebels are at stake, not to mention those of all future Testing candidates and the country itself. There is only one way I can think of to find the information the rebellion needs. If I am making the wrong choice, I will just have to live with the consequences.

I find Raffe waiting outside the entrance and say, “I need your help.”

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