by Dylan Steel
His hands flew through the air as he pulled up the city’s communication systems, shutting down the records for the origination point and setting up a series of false trails. She’d never seen him work with tech before, but not surprisingly, he was really good at it. He didn’t stumble once as he followed every line of the Dignitary’s directions.
Sage’s brow furrowed in concentration as she watched him walk through the system effortlessly. A small image appeared at the bottom of the tech table, scurrying along the edge, nearly out of sight. A tracking bug. If he didn’t kill it, it would capture the sequences he was using and submit them to the Peace, giving them away before they even managed to start the broadcast. She opened her mouth to say something, but he’d already noticed it and had begun dismantling it.
“You didn’t need me,” she mumbled under her breath when he began backing out of the system.
“A second set of eyes never hurts.” Weston pressed the images under his palm, flattening them.
Sage crossed her arms, waiting expectantly for whatever was supposed to happen next. Preferably, that would be some sort of explanation for why he’d suddenly decided to treat her with no more warmth than a stranger, but she doubted that would happen as long as anyone else was around.
Closing the table, he moved to the corner of the wall and crouched down, hiding the tech between a couple piles of trash.
“So no one accidentally stumbles on it,” he said as he stood back up.
“Will it run while it’s closed like that?” Clarette asked, looking a little nervous as she scanned the ends of the alley one more time.
He nodded. “It’s set up to run for days—much longer than we’ll get.”
“And it won’t hurt it to be moved?”
“No. But it will be traceable between locations—if they’re looking at the right times.”
The woman stared back at him soberly.
Weston rubbed his knuckles under his chin. “How long do you think we’ll get?”
“You know there are no guarantees with something like this.” She shook her head. “I have a contact in the Peace. He’s promised to keep me updated on their search, so I can move the device before they uncover it if it looks like they’re getting close. I can’t promise how long I can keep it up, but I will as long as I’m able. Could be minutes, could be hours. I might not be able to move it if it would draw suspicion to him. I won’t risk his life or his position inside,” she warned. “He’s too valuable for that. And I won’t be able to move it if there are officers nearby—they could track the signal and—”
“—arrest you. I understand.” Weston nodded gravely. “I don’t want that any more than you do.”
She snorted again. “I’d hope not.”
“And you have an out?”
“At least three main routes,” her gaze flitted uneasily to the rooftop beside them, “though I’m really hoping I don’t have to use one of them.”
“Good.” Weston stooped down, shoving his fingers under the hatch. “It’s only on a five-minute delay.”
“Got it.” The woman pursed her lips, backing toward a doorway. “Don’t get caught.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up in a grin. “You’re worried? That’s sweet.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t think you can stand up to torture, and I like my life.” She rolled her eyes, disappearing through the door.
As soon as she was gone, he turned back to Sage. His expression darkened when their eyes met. “We need to go.”
A sharp pain pierced her heart, making her suck in a breath. Sage did her best not to gape at him, but it was hard. He didn’t seem to have any trouble joking with this mystery woman, but he’d turned back to ice as soon as they were alone together. It was absolutely ridiculous.
Scrambling down the ladder after him, Sage popped a hand on her hip, waiting for him to finish sealing the exit before saying anything.
“Can we talk about whatever’s wrong?”
He barely spared her a glance before setting off in the direction they’d come. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
She swore under her breath as she hurried to catch up to his side. “Wes—”
“We don’t have time.”
She grabbed his arm. “Then make time.”
His piercing gaze traveled from her hand to her eyes. “I believe you already said everything that was necessary,” he said coolly. “And as you’re clearly not alright with my idea of a diversion, I suggest we move quickly so that we don’t get caught again. I’d rather not kill anyone today.”
Prying her hand off his arm, he continued forward again. She bit the inside of her cheek as her hands clenched into fists at her side, but she didn’t say anything else. She quickened her pace to follow him. Whatever was bothering him would have to wait.
He was right about one thing. They needed to get out of there as fast as they could. They couldn’t afford to get caught, and they couldn’t afford to mess up the broadcast. People needed to know the truth about the corruption at the root of their beloved Eprah. Everything they believed had been based on a lie.
But with the truth, they might rise up and fight. With the truth, they might even win.
15. CANDIDATES
Sage paced outside Weston’s office, not noticing that the early morning rays cast slats of light across her face as she moved. After setting up the broadcast in the city, they’d ridden hard, trying to get back to the estate as quickly as possible. And they’d scarcely said two words to each other the entire time. Worse, once they’d actually arrived back at the manor, Weston had retired immediately, claiming that they both needed rest before dealing with the predictable chaos that they’d just wrought.
She held her breath, listening from the other side of his door. There were no voices—he wasn’t in a meeting. Now was as good a time as any.
If she waited any longer, she’d lose her nerve entirely.
She wrung her hands as she stepped inside the office.
“We haven’t had a chance to talk,” she said, marching toward his desk.
Weston looked up in surprise. “Sage, what are you—”
“Maybe you don’t want to talk to me,” she continued, easing her way around the massive piece of furniture separating them, “but I need to talk to you.”
“This isn’t a—”
“I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, not caring that she’d interrupted him. “I think—I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings yesterday—and I’m not saying that’s what happened, I just—I’m sorry. Whatever I said, or if it was… I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m—”
“I’m not upset with you.”
“What?” She blinked.
He rubbed his temples. “I’m sorry if I seemed angry. Your reaction caught me off guard in an already tense situation. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks reddened. She wasn’t sure she believed his explanation, but she didn’t want to push it. “Ok…” She hesitated, then decided to continue against her better judgment. “It just seemed like you—”
“Sage,” he interrupted in a low voice as he glanced at the clock, “I don’t have time to discuss this right—”
A tone sounded from somewhere in the office, and before she managed to piece together what it was, he grabbed her arm, jerking her low as he shoved her into the space beneath his desk.
“There. Quiet,” he hissed, then turned his attention to something she couldn’t see.
She started to get to her feet and protest, but a familiar voice sounded above her head, making her eyes go wide. Mr. Gaztok. Snapping her mouth closed, she tucked herself farther beneath the desk, listening hard.
“Thank you all for joining me on such short notice. I doubt the first reason for our gathering is much of a surprise. By now, I’m sure you’ve all heard about the latest Lawless attempts at recruiting.”
Murmurs of agreement filled the room, Weston’s voice among them. She stilled, ice spreading through her
veins. It seemed she’d just stumbled into a meeting between Mr. Gaztok and all the Quorum candidates.
“In the event you haven’t yet heard, here is a sample of the latest propaganda.”
Sage’s breath caught in her throat as familiar words floated over the desk.
“They don’t want you to know that they’ve been lying to you your entire lives. Because if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t submit your lives to the System of Worth. If you knew that our founders only achieved power by slaughtering those who opposed their ideas—those who fought for your freedoms and right to live—you wouldn’t be so quick to worship the supposed wisdom of their modern counterpart, the Quorum of Five…”
“Enough,” Weston growled, slamming his fist on his desk. Sage started, nearly bumping her head. “I think we’ve all heard enough.”
“I quite agree,” Grayson spoke for the first time.
“It’s only enough when the perpetrators have been caught,” Mr. Gaztok said icily.
Sage’s heart pounded in her ears. They’d disguised his voice. There was no way anyone could know it had been Weston speaking those treasonous words.
“Which we’re working toward.” Sage stiffened at the sound of Kai’s voice. “Thanks to the Venerable Gaztok’s input and experience, we’ve already begun enacting curfews and mandatory itineraries. Any deviation from assigned work schedules must be approved in advance by a supervisor. Illnesses may only be excused with a verified medical exam. And citizens are now required to identify themselves to enter any buildings or in any exchange of credits. We’re working with the tech department to alter our citizens’ bracelets’ parameters, but we expect full functionality and implementation within the next week.
“Also, with the Lawless’ recent display of boldness, we anticipate needing additional manpower among our officers, so we’re enforcing mandatory service conscriptions. Of course, we’ll need to temporarily reduce menial workers’ pay to afford the increased training and man hours, but we expect loyal citizens to be understanding and compliant. Conveniently, we expect this to serve as another method of determining loyalties.”
Serefina clucked her tongue softly in disapproval. “Has this propaganda already gotten so far out of your control that you feel the need to resort to such drastic measures?”
“Absolutely not,” Mr. Gaztok barked.
“It may seem a bit harsh,” Kai added quickly, “but we believe it will help root out the Lawless threat once and for all. Ultimately, it’s for the good of Eprah and its citizens, and we hope these temporary measures create a more permanent solution to our shared problem. We also intend to remind citizens of the additional Chances they can earn by turning in suspected Lawless, which we hope to be one of our most effective measures in quelling this rebellion.”
“And what do you expect from us?” Weston asked, his voice low, threatening. “Are we under the same new regulations? Or do you expect us to abandon our duties to chase after a Lawless threat that you assured us was nearly gone? Surely your resources are capable of handling this nuisance without our involvement.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.
“Naturally, benefactors are excluded from these regulations. But it is my recommendation that you enact similar measures at your own estates—though, it is, of course, up to you.” Displeasure oozed from Mr. Gaztok’s tone when he finally spoke. “And do be very careful who you decide to criticize, Mr. Bennick.”
“My apologies,” Weston said dryly. “I simply tire of being pulled from my duties. These interruptions strain all of our abilities to serve Eprah, and I was under the impression that we would no longer need to deal with them.”
“He’s right, you know,” Serefina Chartreaux chimed in. “This is affecting all of us. Just this morning, I had to relieve two workers who’d gotten it into their heads that they were too good for my estate. And they hadn’t even been in town for the propaganda. It seems the transmission has already made the rounds to the entire country.”
Sage’s stomach roiled unpleasantly. Somehow, she didn’t think relieved meant an early trip to the Center. On the other hand, it seemed that they’d accomplished what they’d set out to do. Everyone in Eprah now knew the truth. Whether or not they believed it and what they did with it—those were separate questions.
“Of course, I sympathize with the added burden to each of your estates,” Mr. Gaztok said. “And do rest assured that my investigators are on it. The purpose of bringing this to your attention was not to solicit more aid in stamping out the Lawless menace but to ensure that you were all aware of the added challenges to your positions and the Quorum. You are most effective when you are informed, and the Quorum wants nothing more than your success.”
“Which is much appreciated, Venerable Gaztok,” Mr. Grayson said. Sage imagined him dipping his head in overzealous reverence.
“Unfortunately, the bad news does not stop there, I’m afraid.”
Weston stiffened imperceptibly. “Meaning?”
“Meaning we have suffered another incomprehensible tragedy. Another member of our Quorum has fallen,” Mr. Gaztok said without a hint of sadness or remorse.
“Who?”
“Lydiella Vossetta. She expired at her home late last night. Officers are looking into it, but it doesn’t appear to be anything but an unfortunate accident.”
Sage’s eyes widened. Other than Mr. Gaztok, Lydiella was the last member of the Quorum in good health. She drummed her fingers along her thigh, straining to hear what the others were saying.
“It is indeed fortunate, then, that our Quorum is still able to function with you leading it in these troubled times,” Grayson said.
Even without seeing his face, Sage could hear the satisfied undercurrent in his tone. He expected this to work in his favor—expected to be promoted to the Quorum.
“Indeed. However, I feel I must inform you all that—in light of the recent turmoil in our city as well as the extremely minimal training all of you have received so far—I believe it would be unwise to enact ordezko with any of the Quorum candidates.”
“What are you saying?” Grayson asked with a barely suppressed growl.
Mr. Gaztok paused, probably to scowl at the benefactor for his interruption. But there was no hint of anger as he continued coolly, “Until I can confirm that the former members of the Quorum did not meet their demise at the hands of any of these candidates, I cannot in good conscience replace them with their possible killer—or killers.”
“That is an outrageous accusation,” Grayson seethed. Sage could practically hear the vein bulging in his forehead.
“An insult to all of us,” Serefina crooned disapprovingly.
“It’s not meant as an insult. Or an accusation. Merely a precaution.”
Both Weston and Kai remained silent. Sage dug her fingers into her legs, gritting her teeth as they started cramping from a lack of movement. She could only imagine the displeasure written on all the candidates’ faces as they’d just been informed that they weren’t going to be stepping into their coveted roles after all.
“On the contrary. It’s quite understandable,” Weston said slowly, shifting his weight as he continued speaking deliberately. “Once someone is inserted into the Quorum, it is very difficult to remove them, even with evidence of foul play. It is completely appropriate to do everything within our power to ensure the strong future of Eprah and its Quorum. Let me know if I can help in any way.”
“Your support is noted. And appreciated, though unnecessary,” Mr. Gaztok said tersely. “This was merely a courtesy notice. I thought you four should be informed, but again, I value your discretion in keeping this among us for now.”
“Of course,” they murmured.
“These are strange times. The city is growing restless, and I’m taking precautions in light of the Lawless’ most recent attack.” Mr. Gaztok paused, as if forcing himself to utter the next words. “But I may need your counsel moving forward. Make yourselves available.”
/> Weston tipped his head slightly. “We are, of course, at your disposal.”
The others mumbled similar sentiments, then the room went quiet.
Sage let out a breath, waiting for her cue to crawl out from below the desk. She didn’t have to wait long. Weston collapsed in his chair, eyeing her.
“I assume you caught all of that.”
She nodded, and he motioned for her to come out of her hiding spot.
“Two dead Quorum members now,” she said, straightening her shirt as she leaned back against his desk.
“And despite the vacancies, I don’t think any of us will be joining the Quorum,” he mused, tapping his finger along the edge of his desk thoughtfully.
“What do you mean?” A feeling of unease gripped her stomach. She had a pretty good idea what he meant.
“I very much doubt Mr. Gaztok wants to share this new power he’s acquired.”
“Grayson didn’t seem too thrilled about it.”
He nodded. “No doubt because he’s just now realizing that Mr. Gaztok changed the terms of whatever agreement they had.”
“Like he wouldn’t have done the same,” Sage muttered under her breath.
Weston’s lips twitched at the corners in a sort of bitter amusement. “Probably. But if Mr. Gaztok is making no apologies for his actions—even to his allies—then it seems we may need to move even sooner than we thought.”
“Move,” Sage whispered. It wasn’t really a question. She knew what he meant. It was nearly time to make a final stand against Eprah—one that they would win or lose decisively, one that would determine whether they lived or died.
Shooting her a sober glance, Weston continued, “I think Mr. Gaztok intends to be the last Quorum member standing—ever. He intends to consolidate power for himself, and I very much doubt he will relax these so-called temporary measures. After our broadcast, I doubt we’ll manage to access the city’s communication system again. And if he controls the communication in the city, he can craft whatever narrative he chooses—no one could contradict him. Even if he managed to stamp out our entire resistance…”