by Lu, Marie
Hann doesn’t seem to expect this. His eyes widen slightly, and he blinks once. He glances at me before returning his focus on Pressa. “And why would you offer that?” he says.
His piercing stare doesn’t faze her. Pressa lifts her chin. “I spent a lot of years helping my dad run our apothecary. His failing health was the reason I started gambling in the drone races in the first place. I know what it’s like to struggle like you did. And while I don’t agree with your plans, I do believe in your cause. So here we are, helping you out. The question is, will you return the favor?”
Whatever hesitation Pressa might have had earlier, I see none of it in her response. She’s cool and calm. It’s as if this reminder of the death of her father has given her new strength.
Hann doesn’t move, but I can tell that Pressa’s boldness has brushed past some vulnerability hidden in him, however small. His eyes linger on the vials. I might be promising him my skill set—but Pressa is promising him his life back.
Hann frowns at me. “You think this is enough to bring you both into my fold,” he says. “You dare to dangle my own life in front of me?”
Maybe we’ve stepped too far; maybe we’ve overreached. The fear coursing through me starts to make way for anger. “Fine,” I snap. “You want to know the real reason why we’re here—why we’re offering all this? It’s because I’m sick to death of watching both you and the Antarctican government play your games with the Undercity, while the people there are the ones who suffer from your antics. I’ve had it. You’ve seen the riots, haven’t you? I watched Pressa’s apothecary get destroyed and her father … There’s nothing left of it. She had to flee. Is that what you’re fighting for? Is that you championing the rights of the lower classes—turning their home into a battleground? We’re here right now, offering all we got, because I can’t stand watching you do this for another second. Stop hurting the people you claim to be helping. Stop all this—and I swear I’ll serve you however you need. I’ll help you build a system that upends everything Antarctica had. Whatever you want. Just put an end to all this.”
When I finally stop, I realize that I’m shaking. My words must have come out convincing. Even though everything spilled out in a mess, and all I remember is a blur, I can still hear the anger in my voice ringing in the air.
Hann is quiet. His face is serious now, his eyes thoughtful.
Pressa speaks up now, in her clear, steady voice. “You may think you’re taking a huge risk, putting your trust in us like this. But we’re risking everything here too. Our friendships. The people we love. Our lives.”
I don’t know what Hann might be thinking. He might kill us on the spot now, furious with us for having brought his personal problems into this. Or he might toy with us, capture me to use me again as his pawn. Or maybe, maybe, we’ve managed to strike him in just the right way.
Hann takes a few more steps toward us. His head is bent down, as if in deep thought. He stops right in front of us.
“Luckily for you both,” he says, “the AIS and your brother did indeed try to make a deal with us an hour ago. They announced it in the central city, then set up their people to trap me.” He holds out his hands. “As you can see, I’m still here, and they failed. But it looks like your information was good.”
So the false trap had already been triggered. I let out my breath, hoping my relief looks like it’s directed at being right about what I told Hann.
He extends a gloved hand in my direction. “You’re not in the clear yet, Eden,” he says. “I’ll be watching you very carefully, as well as your friend here. But if you do as you say, then I’ll agree to shift my tactics. I’ll hold you to it.” He gives me a tight smile. There’s something there that resembles trust. Something sincere. And even now, I feel like I want to believe it.
I nod and shake his hand. Pressa does the same. But the look in his eyes makes me afraid even as I feel a twinge of sympathy for him. My words had sounded so real and true to him because a part of me had believed what I was saying. Because I’m still convinced, even a little bit, that Hann’s mission is a good one.
What does that mean? When the time comes for us to move against him, will I be able to do it? And what will happen when he figures out that we’ve betrayed him?
I tremble at the thought as Hann turns away and motions for us to follow him.
If he figures us out, he’ll kill us.
DANIEL
My vision blurs. I can’t even feel my hands. A shout bursts from my chest. Before I can even register what I’m doing, I’m running, heading toward the stairwell and down to the street toward where the explosion had gone off.
June. She had been there. Right there, right where the explosion happened.
A thousand images, each more horrible than the last, flash through my thoughts. I readjust the mike on my ear and keep calling into it, even as police dart around me in a chaotic scene.
“June! June? Can you hear me? What happened down there?”
No answer. I spit out a swear and reach the stairwell. I don’t even bother taking any of the steps—with one leap, I’m on the railing and hopping from one turn of the stairwell down to the next, grabbing hold with my hands and swinging down to each lower floor until I land lightly on my feet at the bottom floor of the building. I race out into the street.
Rubble and white dust obscure the air. I squint as I race through it. Already, a patrol of soldiers is down here and directing others from June’s squad back to the main building. None of them look injured yet, but their faces look bewildered and coated in ash.
“June!” I call out again as I stop before the pile of broken concrete that used to be the building where she was supposed to be staked out. It’s a twisted mess of broken stone and metal now. A wave of light-headedness sweeps through me, and I sway. She must be in there somewhere, trapped underneath all the debris, she must be injured, dead—
A hand suddenly materializes out of the white dust and seizes my wrist. My head jerks to one side.
It’s her.
June has a grim smile on her face. “You don’t think that could take me out, did you?” she says.
Every bone in my body turns weak at the sight of June. Her hair’s rumpled and dirty, and ash smears her cheeks, but otherwise, she looks unharmed.
“You’re the goddy worst,” I snap at her. “What the hell happened? I saw you there, and then I saw the explosion—”
She’s already pulling away and tugging me along with her back toward the tower where I came from. Her eyes are dark and serious. “You thought you saw me there,” she corrects me. “I had a decoy team stationed instead, fully aware of the risk of a potential attack from Hann.” She squeezes my hand in apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted Hann to think that he’d succeeded, and he would if he noticed your shocked reaction.”
I’m so relieved to see her safe that I have no strength to be angry. “You play some dangerous games,” I say instead, shaking my head.
June holds out the device from earlier, then brings up a transmission that looks like it came from somewhere underground. “Obviously, he heard this transmission,” she says. “And with that display, he’s going to think he struck a blow against us. It should also make Eden look trustworthy enough to him, that he came to warn him about a plan that actually happened, that clearly you didn’t want to happen.”
We walk in silence for a moment before we return to the command center. There, the other transmissions are being analyzed. None of them had seen a similar explosion go off.
I point to an area underneath the eastern border of the city. It’s near the outskirts, where the biodome ends and the Antarctican tundra begins. “This general area,” I muse. “It’s likely all his people are stationed near there—otherwise we might have seen more reactions to the other transmissions.”
“And it looks like Eden’s successfully made contact with him,” June adds.
Eden. My heart seizes again at the thought of my brother back under Hann�
�s control. I look to where June points at the footage of the explosion looping on one of the screens in the room. “It was what Eden said he would suggest Hann do, as a reaction to our offer.”
“Any word from him yet?”
June shakes her head. “Nothing yet. But we should get something tonight.”
I nod, trying not to let my fear show through. I push away from the table, then go to stand in front of the window looking out over the city. Over the speakers in the center, I can hear Director Min talking with their officers, getting updates on what’s happening.
The sooner this is all over, the sooner things can return to normal. But as I look out at the city, at the chaos that has filled the Undercity’s streets, I wonder if that normalcy is even possible.
A revolution within a revolution.
June isn’t the only one working without telling everyone every detail. Change never happens unless you force it.
EDEN
The only way I can tell that night has fallen is by the blackness of the skylights in the building. Outside, beyond Ross City’s biodome, the open tundra must look like nothing more than a pitch-dark sea. Even from inside, I can hear the roar of the wind across the empty plains.
Pressa and I are alone with Hann now, in a room that looks like it’s operating as his office. Outside the doors stand his guards. Inside, it’s just him, seated wearily against a chair, and for the first time, he looks like a vulnerable man.
Pressa stands over him and holds out a single vial. “These may make you cough a little at first,” she warns as she presses one into the palm of his hand. “But they’ll start to kick in soon after you swallow it. You’re supposed to take one a day.”
Hann gives her a wary look, but doesn’t move to stop her. His guards outside aren’t looking out at the rest of the building, but inside at us. Their guns are hoisted. If they sniff even the slightest hint of us trying to poison or sabotage Hann, they’ll fill us with bullets faster than we’ll ever be able to explain ourselves. So Pressa moves slowly, emphasizing each of her words.
I find myself marveling yet again at how calm she can stay.
“How long has your family lived in the Undercity?” Dominic Hann asks her as she pours the contents of the vial into a cup and mixes it with hot water.
Pressa doesn’t say anything for a second. Her concentration stays on the mixture she’s preparing. “As long as I can remember,” she replies. “My grandparents came to Ross City when they were fleeing chaos in their own country. They ended up in the Undercity. My dad says the apothecary first belonged to them.”
“I see,” he says.
He’s testing her, I realize, with the way he watches her as she stirs the concoction. He’s looking for something unusual in her gaze, the secret of why we must really be here.
But he doesn’t stop her as she works. I realize that, maybe, he’s genuinely hopeful this will work.
As she works, I speak up. I clear my throat and lean forward from the desk I’m seated on. “Like you said,” I tell Hann, “the military’s not going to stay back forever. We don’t have much time. What do you need done on your system?”
Hann tilts his chin at me. “You’ll be in charge of installing a hack on the system that redirects all Leveling to be under my control,” he replies.
A chill courses through my veins, as cold as winter wind outside. Our assumptions had been right, after all. He’s going to make himself the sole dictator of what’s legal and illegal. I blink, feigning shock instead at the scope of the hack. “A program that can do that?” I ask. “It’ll take far too long.”
Hann observes me with his penetrating stare. “Not if you’re working on it,” he replies. “I’m told it’s a simple matter of installing a new chip on the system. You’ll take a look at it tomorrow night.”
Tomorrow night. It’s too late. If I’m going to keep with our plan, I need to dismantle things and install our own chip sooner than that. I frown at Hann. “Show me the system tonight. If it needs to be done manually, I’m going to need all the time I can get.”
Hann studies the liquid in his mug. Nearby, Pressa holds her breath. “You’re going to do it when I tell you,” he replies. The command in his voice is cool and detached, so used to being obeyed that he doesn’t even bother questioning whether or not I will.
“But—” I start to protest again.
In the blink of an eye, he whips a hand out at Pressa and seizes her wrist right as she starts to pull away.
She gasps. I freeze.
Hann looks at her with an unblinking gaze—and then finally releases her. There’s an unspoken threat in his words as he turns his eyes back to me. He’s suspicious of why I want access so soon to his system, why I’m not questioning his ambition. He’s telling me that he could easily snap Pressa’s wrists, that he could slit my throat and leave our bodies in the streets like he’s done with so many others.
It’s easy to forget that Hann is known for being a cold-blooded killer. The sudden flip between this and his vulnerable, exhausted self leaves me reeling.
“After you,” he says to her, as he holds out the mug that she’s handed him.
To my amazement, Pressa doesn’t falter. Instead, she nods and holds the mug up. She takes a long sip. I have to stop myself from reacting as she does and giving us all away, but my muscles feel weak with tension at her move. Does this mean the effects will hit her too? Did she guess this might happen?
“You might feel a little weak tonight,” she says to Hann when she’s swallowed some of the drink. Her voice has a slight tremor in it, but she manages to keep her words slow and measured. “Some clear liquid may come up in your coughs, but it’s a good sign that the medication is working. If the liquid looks dark, we’ll need to give you some antibiotics.”
Hann waits, watching her. But she just meets his gaze with her own calm one, and if I didn’t know what we were doing, I’d think she was genuine, nothing more than someone following through with what she’s promised him.
For a moment, I don’t think we’ll get away with it.
Then his cold gaze disappears. He leans back, looking more satisfied now that Pressa has drunk enough of the serum herself.
“I’ll show you the system tonight,” he says to me. “Tomorrow morning, I expect you to have an efficient solution for implementing what I want. I should be able to tell that you’re the top student in all of Ross City.” He gives me a brief smile at that.
I nod back and let out a slow breath as Hann rises to his feet. He straightens his jacket, looks once at Pressa, and gives her a terse nod. “Tomorrow, we’ll talk again. I appreciate your help.”
It’s not spoken with gratitude. There’s a promise in there, a confirmation that tomorrow we’re going to have to face him again. I just follow Pressa and murmur in agreement, then head out of the room behind him. My eyes stay lowered, but I keep my attention on Pressa beside me.
If we can survive the night, we just might make it out of here. But if things go wrong, I may just have overreached for the last time.
* * *
Pressa and I are allowed to stay in the same room, with a set of twin bunks stacked on top of each other. Guards are stationed right outside the entrance. We’re to take our dinner in here, and I’m going to be shown where the system is kept.
The instant we close the door, Pressa reaches into her pocket and puts a pill in her mouth.
“What’s that?” I ask her.
“The antidote,” she murmurs to me before she swallows it. She makes a face. “Ugh, so bitter.”
“The antidote?” I shake my head in disbelief. “You’d planned for him to ask you to do something like that.”
She blinks. “Of course,” she replies. “You always have an antidote for every concoction you make. We feed our customers this stuff.”
I realize with a pang that she still talks about the apothecary as if her father were alive. “You handled that like you’ve always known how to do it,” I say.
She
shakes her head, then motions for me to sit down on the bed beside her. “With any luck, he’s going to be down and feverish all night, tossing and turning in bed. I don’t expect him to wake up until late morning.”
I nod. “It should give us enough time to work,” I reply.
She looks at me. That lopsided smile I know so well from her appears on her lips, and for a second, it looks like she’s going to lean forward and kiss me. My heart leaps in terror and excitement at the thought.
I don’t know if Pressa saw something in my expression, because she abruptly backs away and clears her throat. “Remember the first drone race I ever took you to?” she says instead. “You were shaking so bad, I thought you were going to pass out.”
I laugh along with her nervously. It had only been a couple of years ago, but I felt ages younger then. “It was the first time I’d ever been to the Undercity, period,” I reply. “You didn’t even give me a heads-up. You just tossed me right into the fray with the bets and the crowds.”
“I was saving you some time. It’s better to jump into cold water all at once, instead of painfully edging yourself in.”
“Right.”
We’re silent for a moment. “Let’s say we succeed in all of this,” I say in a low voice. “Let’s say everything just resets back to how it used to be. Are you going to be okay? Your father?… His shop?”
Pressa shrugs, trying to play it cooler than I know she feels. “If we make it out of here in one piece, maybe the AIS will help out Dad’s apothecary, give me a stipend that lets me pay for the repairs.” Her words trail off, and for a moment, we sit in silence, the weight of her father’s death pressing down on us.
“I mean, I might have some connections,” I say to her. But I feel a pang in my chest. If for some reason our plan to interfere with the Level system doesn’t work, Pressa’s going to go back to her life in the Undercity, battling her way through the Levels just like everyone else. I can see the struggle in her eyes as she thinks the same thing.