I study the railings of the steps. If Daniel were here, he’d avoid the guards altogether and shimmy down the side of this railing, dropping quietly from floor to floor until he reached the ground below. They’d never even know he was here.

Before my brother took me on his run through the Lake district, I’d have even laughed at the idea of even attempting to do this. Now, though, I find myself looking at the landing, wondering if there’s a way I could at least get us one floor lower and bypass the guards. I may not have Daniel’s agility—but maybe I could find a way with my own tricks.

I begin shrugging off my jacket. Pressa glances curiously at me.

I gesture at her jacket, telling her to do the same, and then point at the railings beside us and then at the ground below.

Pressa blinks at me. “Are you out of your mind?” she whispers.

“If you want to fight those guards, be my guest,” I whisper back. Then I slide over to the metal bars of the railing and loop my jacket through the holes. The bottom of the railing is open just wide enough for me to slide through. It’s a tight squeeze, though.

Pressa watches me go for a moment before she comes over to join me.

I lie flat on my back and push through the bottom of the railing, then lower myself gingerly, the sleeves of my jacket wrapped tightly around my left fist. I dangle over the edge, a silhouette lost in the shadows. Up above, the guards don’t move.

I let myself swing a little back and forth. Then I let go. I catch myself against the lower floor’s railings and manage to land in a soft crouch. There I stay for a second, breathless, listening for the guards above to notice and mutter to each other. Nothing.

Pressa comes shortly after me. She hangs in midair for a beat too, before doing the same and crouching beside me. Her landing is quieter than mine, but one of her bootlaces clinks against the metal railing. The sound makes a tiny echo.

We freeze. For a second, we don’t hear anything.

Then one of the guards shifts above us. “That came from downstairs,” she says.

“Are you sure?” the second one answers. “It just sounded like the building shifting.”

“Probably.” The first guard starts to move. “I’ll take a quick look in case.”

We have to move, now. I grab Pressa’s hand and we start running as quickly as we can down the walkway toward the next flight of steps. Up above, the guard’s footsteps clank loudly on the stairs. If she reaches us before we can get to the lower floor, she’ll see us and sound the alarm.

We race on quiet feet down the flight of stairs. We make it to the ground floor just as the guard above us starts walking across the second-floor walkway. I look around. The maze of halls now stretches out all around in every direction.

“This way,” I whisper, then choose one of the halls that seems to head toward where the control platform will be. Pressa darts silently behind me.

Behind us, the guard reaches the bottom floor too. She stops there for a moment but then continues, searching for the source of the sound.

My palms are drenched in sweat. All I want in this moment is for Daniel to be here, but I push the thought away immediately. Focus on the task at hand. That’s all I can do. We make our way down the hall. Somewhere behind us, the guard begins to turn into our hall.

We reach the end of the corridor. Pressa yanks me along as she turns us sharply right, down another corridor. There we crouch, sucking in lungfuls of air.

The guard walks halfway down the hall we just came from. I get ready for us to sprint again. But then the guard halts, silently, for a moment. We wait, two tense, frozen figures.

Finally, the guard sighs and begins walking the way she came. Her footsteps grow more distant, until I hear the familiar clang of her walking back up the stairs to join her partner again.

Pressa lets out a shaky breath. I glance to our side, then pull us to our feet. “We’re not far now,” I whisper.

We race down the halls. There’s no time. Hann is probably delirious with fever right now. It’s our only chance.

The hall stretches so long, the computers on either side so endless with their blinking lights, that I start to think I’d taken us the wrong way—when finally, up ahead, I see the corridors abruptly open up.

There, ahead of us, is the circular control platform.

I skid to a halt before it. Then I reach down with trembling fingers and pull the chip from the side of my ankle. Beside me, Pressa gapes at the space.

I power the system on. The virtual circle expands out in an arc around us, followed shortly by the burst of glowing white nodes. I kneel in the circle, trying to remember how Hann had shown me to access the main system. Almost there. Pressa stands guard nearby, looking out at the corridors in anticipation of guards.

Finally, I find it. The system initiates, showing me Hann’s profile. I’m so relieved that I almost let out a shout. The chip holding the signal I created is in the palm of my hand. I touch it once, and the data on it suddenly appears to hover over my hand.

Now all I have to do is download it into the system.

But I don’t get to. Because the instant the system comes on, I hear a familiar voice behind me. It’s Pressa, but her words are tight with fear. “Eden,” she says.

I know he’s here without even turning around. The hairs rise on the back of my neck. I look over my shoulder to see Hann standing there, his eyes fixed on me. He doesn’t look sick at all. There’s a faint smile on his face.

“I was wondering when you’d make your move,” he says. His eyes flicker calmly to Pressa. “And the little doctor. You’re looking very awake, miss.”

Pressa freezes beside me. She doesn’t say anything back to him. Hann’s referring to the fact that she hasn’t reacted as she should have to the concoction she’d fed him. I shift slightly toward her as if to protect her.

At her expression, Hann just smiles coolly and turns his attention to me.

My heart lodges in my throat. I glance long enough at his face to gauge how he must be feeling right now. His face is pale, and there’s a very faint sheen of sweat on his brow. But otherwise, he seems to be alert. He must have figured out Pressa’s serum in time to give himself an antidote of some sort, or he hadn’t drunk enough of it.

Behind him are at least a half-dozen guards, their weapons drawn and pointed in our direction. Hann snaps his fingers once. The virtual system that had hovered around me now shifts to encircle him.

“This was once a part of the grid that Ross City used to store the Level system’s data,” Hann tells me. “Now it’s part of my system.”

I wait for him to mention the drone he must have taken off me. He doesn’t. Everything he’s doing seems natural right now, as if he knows nothing about my and Pressa’s plans at all. It makes me shiver.

“You always wanted something greater than just disabling the Level system,” I say. “You wanted to control it for yourself.”

“Exactly,” he tells me. He waves a hand once before me—and when he does, I suddenly am able to shift the floating nodes around. “And once you start behaving yourself as part of my crew, you’ll have access to all this as you help to rebuild it for its new purpose.”

Once you start behaving yourself. Now when I look at Hann, I can see the dangerous glint in his eyes. Gone is the grieving father I once saw, the man who had lost his wife and son. This is the killer, the criminal.