Stealing Liberty

by Jennifer Froelich

  Then it becomes impossible. I have reached a dead end. For a moment, I think I will die here, no way through, unable to go back. My hands reach out, touching wood planks, not stone. It is another opening, boarded up, just like the one we came through. I claw at it worthlessly.

  “Let me.”

  Oliver pushes gently past me, kicks through the wood and drags me through. We knock over several empty crates and chairs on the other side, but keep going until we get our bearings. We are in a small room, dank and dusty, though the air smells better than the narrow tunnel we have left behind.

  I take it all in. The beauty of space, of objects instead of black walls closing in on me. Crates, an ancient sewing machine, another piano, two old washing machines, a giant chalkboard, metal storage shelves covered in tools, and stacks upon stacks of rusting metal chairs. Everything is shrouded in dust and cobwebs.

  “Storage,” Oliver mutters. Then he pulls me to his chest and holds me there until my heartbeat returns to normal. My heart starts beating fast again, but this time it feels right. I pull back and examine his face in the blue glow of our Readybeams. Oliver doesn’t let go. I have never been held like this, never had someone look at me like he is looking at me. It’s thrilling and terrifying.

  “Thank you,” I manage to say.

  He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Anytime.”

  I have no idea what we might have said or done if our time had not run out, but it does.

  My timekeeper chimes in my ear and, just like that, we are back online.

  “Oliver…”

  He squeezes my hand and glances up at the ceiling. “Let’s just hope whatever’s up there is someplace we’re allowed to be.”

  Chapter 22

  Reed

  * * *

  Sam is freaking out. “They’ll be back online any minute!”

  “Calm down.” But I bite my nails. Xoey and Oliver should be back by now and I’m imagining the worst. We all thought the heavy fog would cover their tracks. Now I’m second guessing.

  What if there was another cave-in? Or they were caught?

  Sam and I are in the common room alone. In another hour, students will be waking up, heading off to work. Later today we’ll have our final exams for the semester, then two weeks of uninterrupted work before classes resume in January. Kino expects me to put it to good use, tracking down the bomber.

  Sam starts counting down the seconds. “Three, two, one!”

  We both lean closer to his tablet. Most of the Cit-Track lights are tightly clustered in the dorms where students are sleeping. Two lights blink in the common room — Sam’s and mine.

  Then two more blink to life behind us.

  I turn around. The Cit-Track says Xoey and Oliver are by the gaming tables, but they’re not.

  The roof?

  No, the basement.

  “I think we should check on our laundry,” I say.

  We head outside and hurry through falling snow, slowing down as we descend the frozen concrete steps leading to the west laundry room. It’s empty, of course — would be even if it wasn’t so early. Most students use the other laundry room because this one has only two working machines.

  Sam stares at the floor-to-ceiling cupboards on the other side of the room, then back at his tablet again before backing toward the doorway and pointing overhead. I tilt my head back and find the only camera in the room.

  “Close the door,” I say. I reach for the nearest sink and twist on the hot water. Sam follows my lead, turning on the dryer. In a couple of minutes the room is filled with steam. When it’s thick enough to fog the camera, I head to the cabinets and fling them open, releasing a strong mick smell into the room.

  “Ugh.” I turn to Sam. “A little help?”

  We spend the next few minutes unloading heavy boxes filled with old detergent and cleaning supplies. When the cabinets are empty of everything but dust and cobwebs, we examine them closely. I find nothing on my end, but Sam has better luck.

  “Here!”

  He pulls away the cabinet’s back panel, revealing a door. Sam wiggles the knob, then jerks his hand back as if he’s touched something hot. The knob keeps turning and the door swings backward. Oliver sticks his head through.

  “Hey guys.” He squints past us, taking in the laundry room with bland curiosity. “Cover your eyes, Xoey. I think we caught the guys scrubbing their tidy whities.”

  Three days later, Zak and I squat below a Sentribot tower, studying my tablet.

  “It shows five land mines out there.” Zak points at the minefield beyond the fence. “One there and two there, about five meters apart beyond that bush. Two more to the south.”

  We can’t see the mines, of course. Only dirt and prickly bushes. It’s been warm for the last few days, otherwise it would all be covered with snow.

  Unlike the Cit-Track system, the grid we study doesn’t show us where the mines are, just where they were buried back when the school was converted to a secure containment reeducation facility. Zak and I found this spot after searching the school’s perimeter all day. It wasn’t noticeable from a distance — how the fence has been cut and repaired — but up close it shows precision. Skill.

  “So one of them was dug up by the bomber,” I say. “But which one?”

  Zak doesn’t answer.

  I stand up and point. “And check it out — we’re standing in a Sentribot blind spot. Whoever this is, he’s careful. Smart.”

  “You don’t know it’s a he,” Zak says.

  “No.”

  I frown, distracted. Maybe Kino will give me access to student records. The student who did this knew how to mend the fence, dig up the mine without detonating it, and avoid detection. There could be something in his — or her — file. Something to raise red flags.

  Yesterday we examined a defused mine to see how it works. The design is simple and deadly. The mines are pressure triggered. As soon as someone steps on one, the top plate presses down on a pin that strikes a fuse. When the fuse reaches the packet of TNT imbedded below, it blows.

  “These mines are big.” Zak’s voice and hands shook, reminding me how upset he was the night of the explosion. “A hundred years ago, mines were made to maim. These models are built the same way, but with more TNT. They’re gonna kill.”

  We spent the rest of the day studying diagrams, trying to figure out how the mine was altered to detonate remotely. I eventually came to conclusion that anyone with a tablet and a good head for mechanics could have figured it out by following instructions we found on the dark net.

  “But something went wrong,” I said.

  We had just finished sifting through all of Kino’s death threats. There’s no doubt she was the bomber’s target.

  “What made him abandon the mine in the bushes under the science lab window?”

  I ask a lot of these questions out loud. Zak seldom responds — or worse, he goes off on some pointless thread of investigation. Maybe Chad would have been a better partner after all.

  Under the Sentribot tower, I’ve rattled off several questions while Zak fiddles with his tablet. Finally, I squat by the fence, staring into the distance. “I’m going out there.”

  Zak stills. “What?”

  “I know how to do it without getting killed — how to inch forward on my stomach, probe the ground for mines…”

  Zak freaks out.

  “That ain’t gonna tell us anything we need to know! So you risk your life for what? Nothing!”

  “My life, not yours.”

  “Who do you think she’s gonna send out there to pick up the pieces when you blow yourself apart?”

  He’s shaking again. I hate doing this to him, but I have no choice.

  “Call her,” I say. “Let’s see what she thinks. We’re overdue for a report anyway and she should see this. If she doesn’t want me out there, I won’t go.”

  Zak taps his tragus implant. After a brief pause he reports what we’ve found and what I’m planning, the pitch of hi
s voice elevated with fear and anger. It works perfectly, much to my shame. If he had been calm, I don’t think Kino would come.

  “She’s on her way.” He watches me warily. He’ll probably tackle me if I put one toe toward the fence, so I step back instead and lean against the Sentribot tower.

  Zak stands in front of me, his arms folded over his chest.

  “You need to chill,” I say. “Tell me more about where you grew up. It was a carrot farm, right? What was the work like?”

  “Hard.” He scowls toward the school. It should take Kino ten minutes to get out here in the BubbleCart she uses to get around campus, but he’s already watchful.

  I snort. “Harder than this place?”

  “Much. Especially after my brothers were conscripted into the army. Dad and I got up before dawn every day to set the hydro-fertilizer in motion. Add in the seed spreaders and harvesters twice a year. Even more work had to be done by hand, the old-fashioned way. Every single day.”

  “I thought all farms were automated.”

  Zak’s scowl deepens. “Automated? Yeah, they make great commercials for UDR progress, don’t they? So how’s it working out in the real world? From what I hear, grocery stores in the Sand are half empty at best.”

  “True.” It’s the first time I’ve heard him say something critical about the government. “It just seems…almost impossible. You and your dad farming by yourselves.”

  He shrugs. “Mom helped for a while. Then when Copper was born—”

  He stops abruptly. Pressing his mouth into a flat line, he turns back toward the school.

  “Copper?” I prod.

  “Let’s just focus on what we’re doing.”

  “Sure.”

  When Kino arrives, she’s irritated. I’m sure she imagined updates in her office by the fireplace, not out here with icy wind blowing in her face. She climbs out of her cart all wrapped up in a thick scarf and warm coat — warmer than Zak’s and mine combined.

  “Make this quick.”

  “He got out through here.” I touch the fence. “You can see how careful he was, reattaching the links so they are hardly noticeable — and he picked the perfect blind spot, just under this Sentribot tower and out of view from that one.” I point north. “We need to think about who could do that. Who’s smart enough? Who knows enough about the school?”

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to show me?”

  “Also, I think I should go out there and figure out which mine he took.” I try for a casual tone, but my heart thumps just the same. “Maybe he dropped something — left some clue behind.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she snaps. “You’re not a detective. You think he dropped a…a what, exactly? You all wear uniforms, your tablets are identical — what on earth could he have left behind?”

  “Something, maybe,” I say stubbornly.

  Kino rolls her eyes. “Fine, if you need someone to go digging for explosives, send one of the underclassmen.” She grips the collar of her coat and starts walking away. “But don’t even think about going out there yourself. Believe it or not, you’re not expendable. Not yet.”

  She gets in her BubbleCart and drives away. For a minute, we just stare after her.

  “I can’t believe she didn’t offer us a ride,” I say.

  “You’re hilarious. You know that was a complete waste of time, don’t you?”

  I check my timekeeper and bite my lip to keep from smiling.

  Not a complete waste.

  I shrug. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, I’m freezing. Let’s go.”

  As we turn and start walking back toward the school, I return to my favorite subject.

  “If we want to figure out who did this, we have to think like him — or her,” I add, catching Zak’s sideways glare. “How she avoided cameras, clipped the chain link, stole a mine, fixed the fence, and returned without anyone knowing it.”

  Zak says nothing. I continue without him.

  “Did he carry it around live? Or defuse the mine out here, then put it back together when he was ready to use it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I think so. And where did she work? She had to have somewhere to make modifications. Somewhere no one would see her — where the cameras…”

  I stop and stare at Zak. “Are there places on campus where the cameras don’t work?”

  He shifts from one foot to the other. “I’m Kino’s aide,” he begins. “There are things I’m not supposed to—”

  “Zak, please.”

  We’re in the middle of a field, one we harvested only a few months ago. The ground is frozen — just like my hands, which I keep rubbing together. I don’t think there are ears here, but I see two Sentribots focused on us and I wonder about parabolic microphones. I step closer and lower my voice. “Tell me something. Anything you can think of might help. Don’t you want to catch this guy?”

  For a minute he says nothing, then he expels a white cloud of breath and holds out his hand for my tablet. I hand it over and he quickly accesses the school’s map.

  “No matter how much Kino crows about security and total surveillance, remember: funding is tight. Cameras break, or get covered with bird scat. Wires rust, can be clipped — heads get clogged. And other than Kino and Haak, only computer programs are watching us, listening to us — tagging words and phrases to raise red flags on the system. What else are they gonna do with a thousand kids to monitor? Try here, here, and here.” He circles points on the map with his finger.

  “Thanks, man.” I clap him on the back.

  We start walking again and I see students up ahead in the distance, trudging toward work at the munitions plant or train yard. It’s taken us about thirty minutes to return from the fence and I’m more than a little relieved to see Oliver in the crowd, walking between two girls who keep smiling up at him. Xoey and Riley walk ahead of them with Sam and Paisley, their heads bent low against the cold. I don’t know where Adam is, but they all matter to me now. I want them to be safe. I’ll do anything to make it happen, even if it means helping Kino.

  Zak follows my gaze, then studies me with an odd expression. “You are determined to figure this out, aren’t you? Who did it, I mean?”

  “I have to.”

  “When you do…” He stops. Tilting his head back, he studies the sky, white as milk from horizon to horizon.

  “Yes?” I prod.

  “Try to remember Kino was his target.”

  “You think that makes it okay? Nothing justifies killing an innocent girl, you know.”

  He lowers his head. “No, you’re right. That’s unforgivable.”

  Chapter 23

  Riley

  * * *

  “Is it time?”

  “Shh!” Sam frowns at me through the steam, his hair damp and curling around his red face. We’ll all be glad when we don’t have to fog up the laundry room just to cover our meetings. “Five more minutes.”

  I take a step back and lean against a dryer. Paisley takes my place, peering over his shoulder. He lets her (maybe because she keeps quiet for once).

  Xoey was right about Paisley. She worked fast when Oliver and I broke her into the server room, installing the Trojan Horse with plenty of time to spare before Kino returned. Reed’s ploy to get her out of the office worked perfectly.

  I wonder if he would have gone out in the mine field. The thought makes my stomach turn. Xoey was so mad when he told us about it, she’s still not speaking to him. But I’ll admit, I’m impressed. His knack for deception (when it works to our advantage) is a useful thing.

  “Got it,” Sam says.

  “So?”

  “So, cameras and mics are off, randomly looping typical traffic, ambience, and emptiness.” Paisley and Sam beam at each other. “To the Cit-Track’s eyes, we are upstairs with everyone else, playing video games, watching vids and stuff.”

  Oliver turns off the hot water and exchanges high fives with Reed and Adam.

  “So we can talk down here
without the code?”

  “Yep.”

  “What about the rest of the hack?”

  “You rotate off randomly, just like before,” Paisley says. “But when your turn comes, you get extra time. At least thirty minutes, though we can add more if we’re not greedy about it.”

  “What if we need off for something specific? Sometime when we are not part of the random rotation?”

  “Again, don’t get greedy, but we can make it happen by adding you to another batch. Sam’s program is…flawless.”

  Sam tries to hide his smile. Paisley shifts, almost as if she wants to hug him. She twists her hair and bites her lip instead.

  I stare at the camera and try to trust the hack. It’s hard to believe even this limited measure of freedom is real.

  We’ve already boarded up the tunnel entrance in the library basement, which was hard, even knowing we have another way through. Still, it was necessary since Reed was annoyingly right. Kino pulled us off detention yesterday. We’re back to working in the munition plant every afternoon, all except Adam. He’s been transferred to the maintenance garage.

  Since the new route to the tunnel is such a tight squeeze, we’ve started bringing books back to the storage room behind the laundry cabinet. We call it the Hidden Library. Since it’s below the common room, we can spend most of our evening hours there undetected, as long as we don’t disappear all at once, anyway. Xu and Brock are always watching us.

  We talk about those two a lot tonight. Reed thinks he can deflect the suspicion he laid on Oliver and Adam by setting up Xu and Brock. I’m all for it, especially if it gets them away from Sam, who continues to be their punching bag. But I’m not saying anything out loud. Adam leans against the dryer next to me, frowning as Reed explains his plan. I don’t know if he disapproves of the idea or just Reed in general.

  Oliver shifts from one foot to the other and keeps glancing at the door. I’m pretty sure it’s because Xoey went to bed right after dinner. She’s been coughing all week, like so many other students. Those who get too sick to work are sent to the Med Center. More often than not, they don’t return to the dorms, but are shipped off to labor camps instead.