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“Once we all graduated, my father decided that they no longer needed to use power after the designated hours the rest of the city follows. So she goes to a friend’s house after dinner and doesn’t come home until well after nine. They’re the only two who live here. We should have time to do what needs to be done.”
Raffe glances at his watch. Seven-twenty. Ten minutes until the next explosion is set to go off. I check the pulse radio. No messages. Are Tomas and Stacia standing at the back door of Professor Chen’s house right now? Is Tomas turning the handle and stepping inside a kitchen as we do? Raffe closes the door behind me, reaches into his bag, and pulls out his gun. I engage the recorder and hand it to him. Nodding, he slides it into his pocket and then waits until I clutch my own gun before moving forward. I follow. Through the kitchen into a dark hallway that opens into a large living area.
Every step we take echoes in my head. I listen for sounds that Raffe’s father is home, but aside from our breathing and my pounding heart, I hear nothing. Raffe leads me down another darkened hall. He doesn’t turn on the flashlight as he moves confidently toward a closed door, beneath which a sliver of light glows. I hear papers rustling and ignore the way my muscles tense as I think through the strategy Raffe and I discussed. When we reach the door, Raffe touches my arm. I feel around the wall for the door he said was just outside his father’s office.
There. I find the handle, turn it, and slip inside a small bathroom. I leave the door open so I am ready to act if necessary, and wait for Raffe to take the next step. My breathing comes fast as I hear a han
dle shift, a door creak open, and Raffe say, “Hi, Dad.”
“Raffe.” In the deep voice I hear surprise and relief. “Verna said . . . well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ll contact her and let her know that you’re here and not off somewhere causing trouble with those colony students.”
“What kind of trouble?” Raffe asks.
“It’s not important. What’s important is that you’re here and that Verna and Jedidiah will see for themselves that you aren’t involved in this mess. Of course, you should have known better than to leave campus when you’re forbidden to do so. Your lack of judgment has caused people to question your loyalty. Do you know how that reflects on me?”
“I know where my loyalties lie.”
“Be that as it may, Raffe, you can’t just assume that my reputation will protect you from the consequences of your actions. I will not interfere with whatever punishment Dr. Barnes requires for this visit.”
“I didn’t expect you would. After all, you didn’t help Emilie. Why would I think you’d help me?”
“Your sister had to take the examination on her own. There was nothing I could do to help her pass.”
“You knew she would fail and you let her take the test anyway.”
“The rules—”
“Dr. Barnes was prepared to break the rules to keep Emilie from taking the entrance exam because he knew what we all did. That Emilie not only didn’t want to attend the University, she didn’t belong there. I heard him make the offer. You turned him down. Where is Emilie now, Dad?”
The question hangs in the air. When Official Jeffries answers he sounds less confident. Warier. “You know where your sister is. She was assigned to a job in Five Lakes Colony.”
I hear Raffe laugh. The sound is devoid of humor and makes my blood run cold. “Are you aware that two of the students you were worried about me leaving campus with are from Five Lakes? Until they were selected for The Testing, they’d never met anyone from Tosu City.”
“They were mistaken.”
“No, they weren’t. Dr. Barnes offered to allow you to remove Emilie because he was worried you couldn’t live knowing what the consequences would be if she failed. What are those consequences?”
I hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. A loud slam. Scuffling feet and the shatter of glass. I step into the hallway but I don’t move toward the room—not yet. Raffe told me that he would call for help if he needed it and that I wasn’t to come in otherwise. His father would never talk about the Redirection of Testing candidates and unsuccessful University applicants around me. The wall trembles as something heavy is slammed against it. Then everything goes still.
Through the open door I can see an overturned armchair and the corner of a desk. I hold my breath and listen. Nothing. I take one step closer when I hear Raffe ask in a low, angry voice, “What happened to Emilie? Where is she?”
“She’s doing important work to help revitalize this country.” Raffe’s father’s voice trembles with defiance, but under it I hear fear. I want to see what has caused the terror, but I don’t want to interfere. Not when Raffe is so close.
“Where? And are The Testing candidates who failed there, too?”
“It doesn’t matter where she is. What matters is that Dr. Barnes has allowed these students to contribute to our society in a meaningful way. They weren’t strong enough to become leaders, but they are still able to assist our top scientists in understanding the worst corruptions that were inflicted upon our world and our race. It’s because of her and the other students that we’ve been able to make such great strides in reversing some of the minor human mutations.”
“Emilie isn’t a scientist. She’s not working in some secret lab, conducting experiments that will fix everything caused by the war.”
“Of course she’s not running the experiments.”
My chest tightens as I understand what Raffe’s father is saying.
“Then what is she . . .” Raffe’s voice trails off. Has he come to the same terrible conclusion I have? If the failed Testing and University candidates are not in charge of the experiments, the only thing left for them to do is to take part in them. “You’re running experiments on them?”
“Our best scientists are using the resources provided in order to fix the worst of the chemical and biological damage caused by the Seven Stages of War.” Resources. The word makes me shiver, as does the conviction in Official Jeffries’s voice—which grows stronger with every syllable. “Anyone who has seen the worst of the mutations understands why we’ve allocated some of our most promising resources to this project. Over the years, we’ve learned that subjects who can articulate the changes they experience are more useful than those who have no concept—”
The crack of a bullet makes me jump. I flatten against the wall as four more blasts echo in the house. Once the shots stop, I race toward the illuminated doorway. Gun raised, I prepare to fire. But I stop as I cross the threshold and see Raffe standing in the middle of the room, looking down at the figure sprawled on the woven gray carpet. Raffe doesn’t move as I cross the room and kneel next to the man staring blankly up at the ceiling. I should feel horror at what Raffe has done. Up close I can see the resemblance. Same thick hair. Same square jawline and cheekbones. But there is nothing but a sense of sympathy as I check his pulse and confirm what I knew the minute I saw the bloody hole in the center of his forehead. Just as the president requested, Official Rychard Jeffries is dead.
