Although Watchers see everything, we cannot foresee every unexpected circumstance. Which is why we must act swiftly on those rare occasions that surprise us. Even in the greatest crisis, Watchers should report and allow the arms of the Collective to move and defend.
Citizens must never see a crack of alarm in our actions. Our Watching must be swift. It must give the impression that nobody is outside the Love Collective’s purview. It must never, ever look afraid, for Watchers know no fear. The Love Collective is a place where fear has been permanently banished.
(Elite Watcher Training Manual, 51st edition, page 232)
I’ve given up all pretense of calm now and sprint back to the Watcher room.
Composer, fix this, I sing silently, before I force my hands back to the control sphere once more.
“Border Crossing Alpha,” I command, and the screen instantly displays a deserted highway out in the middle of nowhere. To the left of my view, a vast expanse of cracked and broken concrete lies in a ribbon across a grassy plain. To my right, the grassy plain extends halfway to the horizon before being swallowed by a dark forest. In front of me, a long white wall stretches across the concrete, as if to block all traffic. Not that I can see any traffic here. The wall is smooth, windowless, and about as tall as the Elite Academy building.
Memory date: Four days ago
Memory location: Secret bunker
Viola shows me her infotab again. “I found the camera location for you. This one here looks like a drone.”
I blink, surprised. “They never have those in the city.”
“That’s because they’ve got every inch covered by the fixed eyes. Almost nobody lives out at the border, so they have to find something that can follow the more mobile citizens.”
“How do you know this stuff?” I ask.
With a slight smile, Viola taps the side of her nose. “The less you know, the safer you are.”
Taking a calming breath, I walk the vision forward, following the edge of the highway until it reaches the wall. Where the road meets the wall, a small border station nestles into unbroken concrete. The stark black box of the border crossing is a vivid contrast to the blinding white barrier, which reflects the sun with almost painful brilliance. Two Love Squad guards stand at their posts outside the doors. It must be the most boring job in the world to guard a crossing nobody ever wants to use.
How nice it would be to have a boring life.
You’d hate that, comes a little voice at the back of my mind.
“Data check.” Time begins to run backward on the screen. The sun rises and sets, and clouds skip across the sky in jerky, time-lapse speed. Nothing approaches the border except the shadows cast by an errant cloud every now and then. No vehicle. No human.
“End data check.” The vision flicks back to the present. I paste on a slightly exasperated expression for the benefit of the cameras.
“But he wouldn’t just walk up to the exit door, now would he?” I say out loud. “Show camera schematic.” A diagram pops up onscreen, displaying the location of all of the cameras nearby. I know what I’m looking for. That one little red circle several miles to the north. The camera set for no apparent reason in the middle of an ocean of trees.
Using the drone, I turn the vision in the direction I was always heading anyway. The felted green wall of trees grows taller as the drone flies toward them. Not to the height of the border wall, but still impressive.
This is the first time I remember seeing such a large amount of trees at one time. For just a moment I’m tempted to forget all about missions and fugitives and bomb plots, and just float around the serene forest, dancing the drone through shadows and the beams of light that filter through the leaf canopy. I wonder what it would feel like. What it would smell like. I’m rocked by a sudden longing to throw off my shoes and walk barefoot beneath those branches, losing myself in the wilderness far from the noisy chaos of the Triumph of Love festival.
The drone flies above the treetops, keeping clear of the branches that might grasp at its rotors. It automatically homes in on the lone red circle on the schematic diagram. Then the trees begin to thin out, revealing wide, dusty patches of earth.
Memory date: Four days ago
Memory location: Secret bunker
Piccolo jumps up in the middle of our conversation. “Wait a minute!” he says. “What about the drone? How are you going to synchronize the vision from the two cameras when that thing could be flying all over the place?”
“Already thought of that,” Viola counters. “We use the drone to make everyone think she is searching the forest. It’d be too suspicious if she randomly appears at an isolated camera nobody knows about. Once she finds the fixed camera, she sends the drone back to the border station.”
“You should know Viola by now,” Allegra says to Piccolo. “She thinks of everything.”
“Return to base,” I command the drone, and immediately it switches direction, speeding back to its dock at the border. “Switch vision to camera in range.”
Time seems to slow down. From this moment on, all of the Sirens are in Realignment territory. As if Wil hadn’t already landed us right there with his foolhardy ideas.
Composer be with us through this moment.
Onscreen, a circular drain forms a small hiccup in the pristine white wall. Pooled around the outside of the drain are fallen logs and rotting timbers. A grate once barred access to this drain, but weather or flood or some other force has long since broken holes in the rusted metal.
Viola chose well. It’s a perfect place to pretend to escape. I hold the control sphere more tightly. Stretching away from the wall is a dry, empty creek bed, marked with occasional darker patches where tiny puddles of mud remain. Trees rise above the camera on either side of the creek. But the creek bed ends at a grey block of concrete bearing another circle drain. High razor-wire fences encase its top, but the mouth of the drain is open.
“What’s that?” I say loudly for the benefit of the surveillance. “Send data to infotab.”
Quickly I snatch my infotab from the floor where I left it. Without waiting, I switch off the vision and run from the room. On the way, I tap the code on my fitness tracker sending a message to Viola: Going now.
My nerves tumble and surge, forcing my leg into a strange twitching jiggle. This isn’t going to work. There’s no way anyone will believe Wil is escaping when he’s at this very moment in the Triumph VIP compound, trying to set off a bomb. We’re doomed, and I’m just marking time until the inevitable arrest.
Reaching the atrium level, the lift doors barely open before I burst out of them. But Hodge is already waiting, looking for all the world as if he was on a casual errand somewhere.
“Oh, hi,” I say as if our meeting is an accident. “What are you doing here?”
“Crucible’s heading for the Academy now. I’m on escort,” Hodge says, his face giving away nothing. But underneath I hear his urgency. This is our only attempt at fooling Crucible with the video. Time is short.
“Really?” I ask. “I need to talk to him. Can I go with you?”
Thankfully, Hodge appears to be a better actor than me, and he makes a show of being surprised by my request. “I guess. Sure,” he replies and directs me back to the lifts.
In Hodge’s calming presence, my breathing begins to slow to a saner speed. My face no longer feels like it’s burning, and my hands are not quite as shaky. But the infotab still feels heavier than it should, weighing down my thoughts at the task ahead. I have very little hope that Crucible is going to be even slightly fooled by this video.
Memory date: Yesterday
Memory location: Secret bunker
“Will he buy it?” Piccolo looks doubtfully at Viola.
“Composer knows. But we have to try.”
We descend in the lift and emerge at the train station. A single gilded carriage hums quietly on the tracks. As my shoes clatter across the tiles, the front door of the carriage glides open, and two figures in white linen step out. Akela’s eyes widen at the sight of us, but she covers well. Crucible’s gaze narrows, and his steps slow.
I salute. “May you follow your dreams and find yourself in the universe, Executive Lover Crucible. I am sorry to disturb—”
“Enough of that.” Crucible waves my apology away. “You obviously have something. What is it?” He nods at the small object I am carrying. Akela stands wordlessly at his shoulder, looking stern.
“Executive Lover, sir, I have found him.” In the cavernous space, the echoes of my voice sound thin and reedy—too obviously nervous.
“Apprentice—” Akela begins, but she cuts herself off when Crucible speaks.
“Oh?” is all he says.
I nod emphatically. One of his eyebrows goes up a little.
I thrust the infotab toward him. “Here, Executive Lover. See for yourself.”
The air around us is thick with fumes from the train carriage and tunnel beyond. I clear my throat. Crucible doesn’t move. I take a timid step. He still doesn’t reach out for the device, so I swipe the screen to bring up the footage Viola has prepared.
Akela cranes her neck to peer at the screen. When she sees the video, she glances sharply at me. “What is this?”
“Executive Lover Crucible gave me orders,” I explain. Her frown deepens.
“Well? Play it for me,” he orders.
“Yes, Executive Lover.” My heart is in overdrive. To stop my hands from trembling, I reach out with my mind for the words of a Song fragment.
Composer go before you,
Through Lyric’s loving grace.
With help of Muse within you,
You’ll see your maker’s face.
With the words on repeat in my head, I finally feel calm enough to press play on the video. Crucible leans forward, and the surveillance footage Viola has prepared for him begins to play.
The creek bed is deserted and dry, save for occasional puddles that darken the sandstone blocks. Trees on either side of the creek twitch in the breeze. The sun sits high in the sky, shortening the shadows on the ground, and illuminating the open spaces. But most of the forest remains hidden in shadow.
For a few seconds, there is nothing except trees, rocks, and gaping pipelines. Then, at the entrance to the large stormwater pipe, a figure emerges into the light, clambering unsteadily until his legs hang from the lip of the concrete tube. After a few experimental swings of his feet, the figure jumps down from the pipe’s mouth, landing with bent knees on the stones below. Then he straightens, brushes at dirty stains on his grey uniform, and begins to walk toward the camera. His gait is sure, though his appearance is filthy.
Nice touch, V, I think. I risk a glance at Crucible. His eyes are drinking in the vision, completely absorbed by what’s on the screen. He takes the device in both hands, gaze still entranced by the surveillance footage.
Wil’s blond hair has become caked with mud. The camera slowly swivels, programmed to follow the motion of his walk. After a few minutes, he reaches the detritus piled up around the wall. Climbing over the fallen tree trunks, he clambers up to the drain and then crouches to climb in. The last we see of him is the muddy soles of his Academy shoes, which shuffle forward and then disappear into the darkness of the drain.
The vision freezes on the tunnel entrance. It’s been a masterpiece. Viola and her team have worked their magic, and the rendering of Wil’s figure has been perfect. If I hadn’t known the truth, I would have thought it was real footage.
Crucible slaps the infotab against my chest.
“When?” Akela’s face looks pale.
I clasp the infotab in both hands, trying to stop it from smashing on the floor. “I watched this segment of the wall about half an hour ago, Executive Lover.”
“You’re sure it’s him?”
“Yes, sir. You have met Wil, sir.”
“Where?”
“The camera five miles north of Border Crossing Alpha.”
“Did you flag him?”
I shake my head. “He was out in the middle of nowhere. I thought—”
Crucible clicks his tongue in annoyance.
I dig my fingernails into my palms and try to think. Viola was so confident he would believe me. But he doesn’t believe me. We’re doomed . . .
Take a deep breath.
I almost turn at the sound of the voice. But then I realize I’m the only one who can hear it.
Worst-case scenarios aren’t going to fix the problem right now.
I am going before you.
The words are forceful, but not intimidating, and enough to silence my fretful questions. I relax, letting my fingernails disengage from my palms. I may be going down, but I’m not going down alone.
Hodge quietly comes up beside me, while Crucible prowls the room.
“What is the meaning of this?” Akela asks, looking from Crucible to me. From his pacing circle, Crucible waves his hand irritably.
“Your truant.” He looks up at her. “I did your job for you.”
The shocked expression Akela now transmits is perfect.
“He—I mean, you found him, Apprentice?” Her eyes are wide and fearful. I’m glad Crucible is looking the other way, because Hodge makes a Siren signal, and she visibly relaxes.
Crucible stops so suddenly I take a backward step.
“Ha!” he exclaims, his face lighting up. “That kid will never know what hit him.” He slaps his leg gleefully and gives a small chuckle.
“Pardon sir?” I ask, confused.
His expression changes. Crucible shows his teeth. “You’ve done well, my dear. Very well. Very well, indeed. How about we have a little celebration?” Rubbing his hands together, he looks at the two of us.
“Sir?” Hodge asks, startled.
“This kind of service to the Collective deserves an excursion to the VIP compound, if I’m not mistaken,” Crucible says, hand on my shoulder. “Time for you to see Triumph for yourself.”
My mouth drops open in shock. Beside me, Hodge makes a little strangled noise. “Uh, yes, sir. Of course, sir,” he says, recovering his composure faster than I can.
“We live to serve the Collective.” I bow in the appropriate way, more to cover the look on my face than anything else.
Crucible waves expansively toward the train at the platform. “No time like the present,” he says. “I bet you’ve just been dying to see the VIP compound. Dorm Leader, take that thing, will you?” He points to my infotab. “They won’t need that where I’m taking them.”
Akela bows her head and obediently retrieves my infotab. I place a carefully constructed smile on my face, and clasp my hands together in front of my heart.
“Of course, Executive Lover,” I say breathily, wondering what on earth just happened.