DANIEL

I’m back on the streets of Lake. I don’t know how the hell I got here.

My boots splash in dirty puddles as I hurry down the familiar roads near my old home. The metal of my artificial leg feels so cold that I think it’s encased in ice. All the homes on this path are boarded up, their doors sprayed with red Xs, and the silence roars in my ears. My lips part and I try to call out for someone, anyone—but when I try to utter a sound, nothing comes out. It’s as if the world had been muted.

Daniel!

Except there’s a familiar voice. I whirl instinctively in its direction to see a line of Republic soldiers standing along the end of the street, barricading it. Behind them, struggling to get to me, is my older brother, John.

Overhead, along the horizon, the ominous black silhouette of a Colonies airship approaches, and with it comes a field of distant screams, like a swarm of locusts rushing in my direction. The ground in the distance is obscured with dust. John is trying in vain to break through to me, and I am pushing through thick air as I struggle to run toward him.

He reaches his hand out; I do the same. Just a little farther …

And then the distant screams draw close, and suddenly we are engulfed in a dust storm, shrieks whistling all around us. A bright light overhead grows steadily brighter until it makes me squint. I call out John’s name over and over, but he doesn’t answer. It’s too late to save him—but where’s Eden? I have to—

I jerk awake, trembling, sweat trickling down my forehead.

The light overhead turns into a blinding lamp. I blink away tears in my eyes as the world gradually sharpens, my dream turning blurry around the edges. Already I’m having trouble remembering what I saw, but John’s outstretched hand, his blue eyes mirroring mine, remains clear.

It’s been a long time since I’ve dreamed about the Republic like this.

The next thing I realize is the throbbing of a dull headache. My limbs feel sore and bound. My gasps are muffled behind a tight gag, and as I become more aware of my surroundings, I realize that I’m tied firmly to a chair. The chamber around me is luxurious in its sparseness—thick, monochrome rugs and clean-cut sofas, the wallpaper a minimalistic gray and white.

It takes me a moment to pinpoint exactly what’s off about the room. There are no windows.

“About time,” someone says, and I turn my head slightly, wincing, to see a man in a suit sitting on a couch beside me. There are others stationed near the chamber’s door too.

The man tilts his head at me and speaks again. “He’s awake now. What do you want us to do?” He’s talking to a superior, I realize.

There’s silence, followed by a few grunts of agreement from him and the nod of a head. Then he settles back against the couch to wait again.

“Mr. Hann thought we might’ve given you too much chloroform,” he says to me. “Good thing you pulled through, saved us all a load of trouble.”

Dominic Hann.

Eden. Have they taken him too? A rush of terror courses through me at the thought, and suddenly the gag feels like too much, and there’s not enough air in the world for me to breathe.

Calm down, I tell myself firmly. They had wanted Eden. It’s probably the entire reason why I’m here. And if they have me as collateral, it means Eden is alive and likely unharmed, if possibly held against his will.

Alive. Unharmed. It’s all I want to know.

I stare at the man for a while before studying the room again. There’s no obvious clue of where exactly we are, and as expected, my system has been powered off, with nothing but a warning blipping in the corner of my view. Wherever this place is, it’s nowhere I can connect online.

One of the others near the door leans back from the wall and strolls over to me. She looks bored. “How long do we have to stay down here?” she mutters as she reaches me and bends over to inspect my face. “I didn’t sign up to be a babysitter.”

“You’ll stay until you’re told otherwise,” the man replies in exasperation.

She smiles slightly at me. I glare back at her. “So this is the world-famous Day,” she muses. “He’s even younger than I thought.” Then she directs her words at me. “You don’t look like you’ve lived through a war, kid.”

Too bad this goddy gag is in my mouth, or I’d be able to answer her. Instead, I meet her gaze steadily until it seems to unnerve her. She shoves my chin away so roughly that I have to catch myself to keep the chair from tipping over.

“What the hell are you looking at?” she snaps, then straightens and crosses her arms.

Behind her, one of the other women by the door sighs. “Leave him alone,” she says. “We’re not supposed to touch him.”

“Or what? He was staring at me.” The first woman scowls.

“Just wait until the others head down to get us, all right?” the man on the couch says with a sigh. “It’s not like he’s going to do anything or get anywhere like this.”

Head down. We’re probably somewhere in the Undercity. My head pulses with pain again, and I wince, my thoughts scattering. Leaning against the wall at midnight, being wheeled down a hospital corridor in a gurney, collapsing to the fl oor of a train. Bright fragments of memories come back to me now, along with a phantom pain of what I’d once gone through.

I’m suddenly filled with a rush of anger. I did not live through a revolution and take my brother all the way to Antarctica to be strapped down by some stupid mob boss who somehow thinks he’s important. I did not come here to be intimidated by a bunch of trigger-happy trots.

The AIS’s communication system. If I can get close enough to one of the guards, I can try to tether my system to theirs, get a connection going—if only for a second. Had June received my last message? I have a vague memory of trying to send her a call with nothing but a few seconds of static, but I can’t be sure it ever reached her. Or if she knows that it means I’m in trouble.

I jerk hard against my bonds. The chair clatters forward, scraping against the tiles.

To my satisfaction, all my guards startle at my movement. I smile a little behind my gag. Haven’t lost my touch yet.

“Stay still,” the man on the couch orders me, his frown deepening. He looks reluctant to come to me, though, and his hesitation just makes me more reckless.

Or you’ll do what? They can’t kill me if I’m supposed to be collateral. They need Eden to stay compliant and do what the boss says. So I push harder and bang my chair loudly against the floor. My hands wring behind my back.

“Damn it all,” the man hisses between his teeth as he finally gets up and walks toward me. He smacks me once in the face and then grips my chin hard. “Stay still, unless you want your fingers to go missing one by one.”

Idle threats. I stare fiercely back at him. In his eyes, I can see that what he’d said earlier is true. Hann had instructed them not to touch me, and it bothers this man right now to be forced to discipline me.

Link.

I send out the command on my system with my mind, and it catches his nearby account. A loading circle spins in my view. Attempting to connect, it says.

The man shoves me roughly back away from him. The connection attempt stalls.

I pretend to choke on my gag, coughing uncontrollably. At first the man laughs, smug at the thought of my suffering—but when I keep going, putting on a show of struggling to breathe, his smile wavers a bit. One of the women nods at him.