Side step: Get the Blackout Codes.

The entire Internet, the cyber world Blaise and I know like the backs of our hands, has gone dark. No data—photos, videos, messages, and articles that could tell the world the crimes that are happening—is able to escape Dallas, just like its citizens.

A complete block on the flow of information in and out of Dallas is the worst-case scenario for the Common. Not only does it mean that Mira’s public reveal of Roth having Multiples in his own family and thus being a traitor to his country will be censored; it means Roth can do anything he wants because no one outside Dallas will see until after the fact. He could massacre tens of thousands of his own citizens and then claim the Common killed them all in the deadliest act of terrorism the country has ever seen. Roth’s now in control of the narrative—because he controls the Internet. He can share or block whatever information he chooses.

To top it all off, no messages out means zero help is on the way. We’re on our own.

We’re sitting ducks.

First Lady Roth. Through the control panel window, I see her sitting in the front row.

She has to know the deactivation codes to unlock the city, right? You don’t get First Lady in front of your name for nothing. I’m just not buying what the crazy lady’s selling—she’s more cunning than she’s letting on.

The First Lady of Texas has the key to unlock victory.

But how do I get her to talk?

I decide to skirt the stage on my quest to find Theo. Best to avoid Rayla and the sisters. They might be good at a zillion things, but sweet-talking a Roth will never be a tool in their talent box.

If we don’t get the Blackout Codes soon . . .

Buckets of sweat spill down my face. Does Roth control the AC too? The salt stings my eyes worse than a scourge of mosquito bites to my corneas. Blinking does nothing. I bet it looks like I’m crying.

“We’re sitting ducks!” I shout out of nowhere.

People jammed inside the hallway all stare up at me slack jawed. Oh right. I rub shoulders with Rayla Cadwell. I’m at least top ten on the Wanted List. People think I’m in the inner circle.

I have to play it cool.

I cut my speed and pass out reassurances as I go. Don’t worry, we’re on it . . . We’ll lift the lockdown double-quick . . . Be outta here in a wink . . .

I think they believe me.

That’s good. Because I sure as hell don’t.

Bypassing backstage, I get myself to the rear exit doors that would take me to the parking garage if the Guard weren’t holding us hostage.

There. Found him. Theo’s almost as tall as Xavier; he’s hard to miss.

Looks like he’s taking the heat about as well as I am—he’s sweating so bad his white shirt’s see-through. The guy’s ripped.

But all that muscle won’t break electronic locks.

Xavier and Theo’s weapon of choice to pry open the steel door: metal crowbars. They’re giving it all they’ve got, but it’s just not going to happen. By the time I hotfoot it over to them, Theo’s resorted to whacking at it.

“Where’s Malik?” I shout at Xavier. Stupid question.

“Still. Out. There,” Xavier says between his own clobbering blows. It doesn’t even leave a dent.

We really need those codes . . .

“Hey, Theo!” I yell.

But Theo keeps hammering away like the door’s Governor Roth’s face.

“Hey, Theo!” I shout louder. Theo turns midwhack, and I duck, saving myself from decapitation.

“Sorry!” Theo cries, gulping down air. “I didn’t see you there.”

Up close, the family resemblance is bona fide. That should tug on Mrs. Roth’s nonexistent heartstrings.

“I have a better way out,” I say.

“Oh yeah?” Theo asks, tossing down his crowbar. “Anything I can do?”

“Well, yeah actually . . . I need you to talk to your estranged grannie and politely ask her for the Blackout Codes.”

He screws up his face. “You think she has codes to unlock the doors?”

“I think she knows the codes that can unblock the Internet that can help us unlock the doors. There’s not really time to explain . . .”

Ava, Mira, and the whole gang are backstage watching us like surveillance drones. I throw them an a-okay signal, even toss in a thumbs-up. Nothing to see here, Rayla, I’ve got this covered.

“The message has changed,” Xavier says, cocking his ear to a wonky speaker above the door. The audio’s weak—it’s on the fritz from a direct bullet hit—but Xavier makes sense of it. “To the anarchists terrorizing Dallas, surrender is your only way out. Surrender now. Surrender now . . .”

I’m sure it keeps on going, but who has time to listen? To Theo’s credit, he asks no more questions and makes a beeline for Mrs. Roth.

I catch up with him, my four steps to his one, cramming in a coaching session as we head for the auditorium.

“Why doesn’t Mrs. Roth have a fresh cut on her wrist?” Theo interrupts my pep talk. “Did the Elders not take out her microchip?”

“Openly known secret—governors and their partners don’t have one. Their chips are removed the second they take office. For international security measures.” I air quote the excuse.

Really they’re all head-case overlords who don’t play by the same rules.

Theo scoffs. “How can I be related to these people?”

“If you could keep that kind of out-loud dialogue to a minimum with the First Lady . . .”

“What should I say, then?”

“I don’t know . . . let her pinch your cheeks or something? Tell her you’ve had a change of heart . . .”

Tell her you look forward to visiting her in prison . . .

Haven and Alexander stand over Mrs. Roth like sentinel soldiers in it for the long haul. Theo’s dad tries to stop us, but Theo holds out a hand, putting a quick end to that potential speed bump.

“Hello, Grandmother,” Theo says.

Okay, off to a good start.

“Give me the Blackout Codes.”

Well, I was hoping for a bit more finesse.

I’m about to hop in and save this car crash of an inquiry when—

“I’ll forgive you,” Theo says.

This perks up Mrs. Roth.

“If you give me the codes, I will forgive you for expelling me and my parents.”

Short and sweet, with an impactful gut punch. Mrs. Roth melts, smiling a thirty-two-watt beam. She holds out her arms, and I gently shove Theo into them.

“So do you know the codes or not?” Theo asks, wriggling free.

“Of course I know the codes, dear,” she says, a new swagger to her posture.

Theo’s nostrils flare at the endearment. Too soon.

She grabs Theo’s hand, imparting her grannie wisdom. “Always have information to bargain with. Even when you are at your weakest, you can hold on to your power, if only by your fingertips.”

Control dies hard with this family.

“Pinche idiota,” Theo utters. No idea what he said, but it didn’t sound pleasant.

“What does that mean?” Mrs. Roth asks Alexander.

“He said thank you for the lesson,” I quickly reinterpret, “and can we please have the codes now.”