Fifty-Four

Emma, Back at the Alternate World’s Cuckoo Clock Building

“I’m not afraid of you,” Emma told the Mayor.

The Mayor laughed, a harsh, cruel sound.

“Emma, Emma, Emma,” he said, shaking his head. “We both know that’s a lie. Your parents would be so ashamed of you. I thought your whole family was all in favor of ‘truth.’” He made mocking air quotes as he spoke. “‘Truth,’ ‘justice,’ ‘honor,’—don’t you know none of those things really exist? Don’t you know those words just mean whatever those of us in power want them to mean?”

“You’re the one who’s lying,” Kona spoke up bravely. She kept her arm looped tightly through Emma’s. The two girls stood shoulder to shoulder, each drawing strength from the other.

“Math,” Emma said. “Two plus two equals four. That’s a fact. It’s true. Science. Water has two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen. That’s true, too.”

The Mayor laughed again.

“Kindergarten math,” he scoffed. “Baby science. Don’t you know that even math and science get a little . . . squishy . . . once you get to higher levels? Of course you don’t know that. You’re only ten. Only a little girl.”

Emma hated it when people talked to her like that. She wanted to yell, “I know there’s such a thing as quantum physics! I know about Schrödinger’s cat! Just because something’s complicated doesn’t mean it’s a lie!” But Kona nudged her gently in the side, and Emma reconsidered.

Maybe . . . maybe it’s good that he’s underestimating us, she thought. Maybe he’s not using the stink grenades or the mind-control TVs on us only because he thinks he doesn’t have to. Because he’s as lazy as his smile.

Emma regretted not stocking up on “stink grenades” of their own—maybe filled with all the things the Mayor was allergic to.

But that wouldn’t have been enough to beat him now, she thought. We’re not going to win playing by his rules.

Emma still wanted to believe they had a chance. She still had to believe that.

“And justice? Honor?” the Mayor continued. He rolled his eyes. “Those are squishy concepts to begin with. Whatever helps me, that’s justice. Whatever I want to do, that’s honor. I guarantee, that’s how everyone thinks.”

“Not my parents,” Emma said at the same time that Kona burst out, “Not my dad.”

“Not us,” Emma added.

The Mayor snorted contemptuously.

“My dad died for truth and justice and honor,” Emma said. “My mom and Kona’s dad risked their lives and were imprisoned because they tried to rescue kids they didn’t even know. Because they didn’t think it was fair for another family to suffer the injustice of your world.”

“It’s your world, too, Emma.” The Mayor’s smile became even more mocking. He flicked his gaze toward Kona. “And you’re here now, too, little girl. I guess you made your choice.”

“What our parents did, it wasn’t just about truth and justice and honor,” Kona said.

Emma finished the thought for her: “It was about love. Everything our parents did, they did out of love. And that’s why we came here, too.”

The Mayor shook his head. His smile was positively evil now.

“If your parents had truly loved you, Emma, they would have just followed the rules,” he said. “They would have stayed here and kept their mouths shut and done whatever their leaders told them to do. And believed what their leaders told them to believe. Your father would still be alive, if he’d done that.”

Emma could think of so many things to yell back at the Mayor: Maybe, “My father wouldn’t have been able to live with himself like that!” Or, “You don’t know anything about love! Or truth or justice or honor!” Or, “Do you even believe your own lies?”

But just then, Emma was aware of a silence behind her. All along, she’d been subconsciously tuning out the blaring noise from the stadium, the drone of the giant speakers buried in the enormous screen. But that was gone now.

For a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance, the silence waiting to be filled. And then a buzz began to grow in the stadium—not from any speakers broadcasting one message to everyone in earshot, but from dozens of voices (hundreds? Thousands?) all talking at once.

The Mayor pressed his lips into a narrow line.

“I made that happen,” he said. “Now that I’m back, we don’t need to use the same techniques here anymore.”

“You’re lying,” Emma said, just as Kona asked, “Isn’t he lying?”

The Mayor turned to address a row of people in dark blue uniforms directly behind him, still spilling out from the other world.

“Guards!” he said. “Arrest these girls! Then arrest everyone inside the stadium!”