Phase two successful. Phase three is a go.
Sawyer reads Lynell’s text again, her heart a gallop of nerves and excitement. This is what she’s wanted since before meeting Lynell. She’s wanted to give Ellery’s speech, to finish her wife’s last project. She still wants that, but she wants so much more now. The Resurrection was once an extension of Ellery’s work, but it’s gone through a metamorphosis. It’s not Ellery’s or Lynell’s. It’s not even Sawyer’s, really.
The Resurrection stopped being a group of rebels or a desperate attempt at keeping her wife alive long ago. It became hope. A possible future. A life.
That’s what Sawyer thinks about as she splits from the crowd heading in the direction of the auditorium and slips into a small hallway leading backstage. Chuck Wright, the Resurrection’s Head of Defense, dressed in a security guard’s outfit, stands at the end of the hallway. At her approach, he covertly opens the door he’s been guarding and escorts her through.
“The succession ceremony starts in ten minutes,” he whispers.
“You have the jammer?” Sawyer asks.
Chuck nods, gesturing to his chest pocket. Once turned on, the device will jam all phone and radio signals in the building. “The others are in place, too. I must say, working with the Elysians makes our lives much easier.”
“Yes, it does,” Sawyer says with a smile. Before Lynell, their plan was to record Sawyer in another part of the convention center and rely on their tech expert to interrupt the broadcast with their video. Now, they’re able to infiltrate the convention with dozens of their people, replace business cards with their own, plant listening devices, and replace Lynell on the actual stage with Sawyer, proving to the world that the leaders of the Resurrection and Registration are working together. None of that would’ve been possible without Lynell’s help.
“I’ve got it from here,” Sawyer says, stopping in front of a locked door.
“Good luck. You’ll do great.” With that, Chuck turns around, heading back to his post.
Sawyer knocks three times, pauses for five seconds, and knocks three more times. A second passes, then the door opens, revealing Daniel.
“That was fast,” he says, stepping aside to let her through.
Lynell is standing in the center of the room wearing a sleeveless black dress with gold buttons that enhances her natural beauty and simultaneously makes her look ten years older. The three individual finger splints have been replaced with a single sleek black one holding all three fingers. Anxiety sweeps over her face. Sawyer realizes this is the most nervous she’s ever seen Lynell.
“Are we positive that you can’t take over right away?” Lynell asks. She’s wearing a wireless microphone tucked behind her ears and resting against her cheek.
Sawyer chuckles. She doesn’t much care about some pointless ceremony declaring Lynell the Elysian owner of the Registration, but Ramsey and Harlow both stressed how important it was. Lynell has to be legitimized publicly before handing her stage to a rebel.
“We’re positive, Lyn,” Daniel says. He runs a hand down her arm and lifts her chin. “It’ll be quick, and you’ll do great.”
Before Sawyer can offer encouragement of her own, someone knocks at the door. She presses herself to the wall next to the door, so she’s out of view when Hayes opens it.
An unfamiliar voice says, “Are you ready, Mrs. Elysian?”
Lynell nods. She gives Sawyer a quick glance and faint smile, then follows the other two out of the room.