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Connor is being unwound this afternoon. How could this have happened? How did he get here? Connor was safe at the Graveyard. Did the Admiral throw him out, or did he leave on his own? Either way, Connor must have been caught and brought here. The one thing Lev had taken comfort in—the safety of his friends—has now been torn away. Connor's unwinding must not be allowed . . . and it's in Lev's power to stop it.
He finds Blaine in the grassy commons between the dining hall and the dormitories, being put through a regimen of calisthenics with his unit. Blaine does them oddly, putting as little force into them as possible, making all his moves low-impact.
"I need to talk to you."
Blaine looks at him, surprised and furious. "What, are you crazy? What are you doing here?"
A staffer sees him and makes a beeline toward them—after all, everyone knows tithes and terribles do not mix.
"It's all right," Lev tells the staffer, "I know him from home. I just wanted to say good-bye."
The staffer reluctantly nods his approval. "All right, but make it quick."
Lev pulls Blaine aside, making sure they're far enough away that nobody can hear. "We're doing it today," Lev tells him. "No more waiting."
"Hey," says Blaine, "I decide when we do it, and I say not yet.
"The longer we wait, the longer we risk going off by accident."
"So? Randomness works too."
He wants to hit Blaine but knows if he does they'll probably leave a crater in the field fifty yards wide, so he tells Blaine the only thing he knows for sure will get him to give in,
"They know about us," whispers Lev.
"What?"
"They don't know who it is, but they know there are clappers here—I'm sure they're reviewing the blood tests right now, looking for anything unusual. It won't be long until they find us."
Blaine grits his teeth and curses. He thinks for a moment, then starts shaking his head. "No. No, I'm not ready."
"It doesn't matter if you're ready. You want chaos? Well, it's coming today, whether you want it or not—because if they find us, what do you think they'll do?"
Blaine looks even sicker at the prospect. "They'll detonate us in the forest?"
"Or out in the desert where no one will ever know." .
Blaine considers it for a moment more, then takes a deep shuddering breath. "I'll find Mai at lunch and tell her. We'll go at two o'clock sharp."
"Make it one."
* * *
Lev rummages through his cubby, getting more and more frantic. Those socks have to be here! They have to be—but he can't find them. The detonators aren't crucial, but they're cleaner. Lev wants it to be clean. Clean and quick.
"That's mine."
Lev turns to see the towheaded kid with the emerald-green eyes standing behind him. "That's my cubby. Yours is over there."
Lev looks around and realizes he's off by one bed. There's nothing in the unit to identify one bed, or one cubby, from another.
"If you need socks, I can lend you."
"No, I've got enough of my own, thanks." He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes to get his panic under control, and goes to the right cubby. The sock with the detonators is there. He slips it in his pocket.
"You okay, Lev? You look kinda funny."
"I'm fine. I've just been running, that's all. Running on the treadmill."
