“Don’t say it like that,” said Leo. “I once put bourbon in my dad’s espresso maker to make coffees for a party.”
“Did it taste good?” asked Keiko, in the tone of a person continuing a conversation out of morbid curiosity.
“Oh, no, it caught on fire,” said Leo. “And then I chucked it out a third-story window.” He looked rather proud of himself. “The apartment was fine. The Mercedes it landed on… was not as fine.”
Prefect looked as though he was getting a migraine.
Centurion strode into the kitchen. He was a middle-aged Black man with a shaved head, goatee, and finely cut suit. He wasn’t overly friendly, but he always gave me a polite nod in the hallways. “Ms. Pine,” he said. “You were the one to discover the problem?”
I was an anomaly in more ways than one. Most wraiths didn’t hang around the ISD offices. In fact, wraiths were normally kept far away in dormitories or undercover on assignment. But I supposed that the higher-ups wanted to keep the only underage wraith under greater supervision.
“I’m not sure if I discovered it,” I said, “but when I hit a button…” I waved vaguely at the surrounding darkness. “This happened.”
Centurion and Prefect shared a glance.
“It went through security, right?” said Centurion.
“I have no idea,” replied Prefect. “Until three days ago, Augusta and I were in Atlanta.”
“Everything goes through the scanners,” said Centurion. “Mail, personal belongings, food deliveries. I can’t see how any Trojan programs could be brought inside. It could be a coincidence. Perhaps someone in the mainframe tripped something and triggered a lockdown.”
Keiko frowned at the espresso machine. “Do we have power?”
“No,” said Centurion. “Not on this floor. When a lockdown is triggered, everything is cut.”
She pointed at the espresso maker. “So why is the coffee maker’s clock still on?”
Sure enough, a tiny digital clock glowed faintly.
“The real question is why is the time ‘zero-fifty-nine?’” said Leo. “In what time zone is there a zero o’clock?”
Steve opened his mouth as though to explain what a twenty-four-hour clock was, then closed it again. Probably a good choice.
“It must have an internal battery,” said Prefect. He pulled the espresso machine farther from the wall. “Steve, go see if you can radio security. See what they make of this.”
“Of course,” said Steve, looking grateful to escape the conversation. He navigated his way out of the kitchen using a tablet’s flashlight.
“Keiko,” said Prefect, “I want you to see if you can get the director on the phone—I know it’s the weekend and she’s with her grandkids and she told us not to disturb her, but only her codes will undo the lockdown.”
Keiko nodded and hurried away.
“What can I do?” asked Leo eagerly.
Prefect’s gaze flicked toward him. “Go find more flashlights.”
“Okay,” said Leo happily, and bounded off.
“Do we have more flashlights?” asked Centurion.
“No,” said Prefect.
As Centurion and Prefect talked among themselves, I took a few steps back. Something about this situation was off—and it wasn’t the pitch-dark offices or the smell of coffee grounds as Prefect began disemboweling the machine to find its battery. “If we can find out what tripped the lockdown, maybe we can disable it,” he was saying.
I glanced at the clock.
0:57
A thrill of panic tore through me. “Prefect, wait!”
