“Come on, come on, come on.”

  Niva whacked the bomb she was working on three times. Which I’m sure was fine.

  “Is it safe to be hitting it like that?” I asked.

  As if it wanted to reply, it shot out a laser at a nearby mirror, which bounced back and put a hole in the couch, right next to Niva’s head, though she seemed unfazed. Good thing this wasn’t technically my room.

  “It’s a DNA bomb, it works differently. It’ll be perfectly safe once I sort out the kinks. For us anyway.”

  She let out a little cackle and for once I didn’t feel like the craziest person in the room.

  “Right, yeah, no, I believe you. From a safety point of view though, I feel like I have to ask, why are you making a bomb?”

  “None of your business. Go play with Ganymede or something, I’m busy.”

  “No thanks, I’d rather see what’s happening right here.”

  She rubbed her greasy hands on her jumpsuit, eyeing me as if she was deciding how much of a fight I’d put up.

  “Fine, but the minute you start asking annoying questions, you’re out.”

  “What about-”

  “That means no time-travelling questions.”

  “Why not?” I pleaded.

  “Because I said so.”

  “Because it brings back memories of your mother,” I finished for her, sitting on the bed. “You can’t blame yourself for an accident.”

  She focused on a spot on the far wall.

  “Yes I can.” She glared at me. “You don’t know the full story.”

  I was tempted to reach for her hand, but thought better of it.

  “I know more than you think.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “I barely know you.”

  “Exactly, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

  I waited patiently for a whole minute before she gave in.

  “Take a seat,” she said, patting the spot next to her, “You like stories, right?”

  I joined her on the floor, giving a polite, encouraging smile as she started.

  “Once upon a time, there was a cat who got too curious and got involved in things bigger than herself. Curiosity killed the cat, and that’s where we get the expression from. The end.”

  My face fell.

  “Really?”

  “Yep, now can you tell me the moral of the story?” she asked, somewhat patronisingly.

  “I just wanted to help you, Niva.”

  She took a deep, cursed breath, hugging herself in such a vulnerable way I couldn’t help but feel for her.

  “The world is changing, Pickering, and too many people have the power to end it with a click of a button. We need to tread carefully wherever we go, be careful who we trust our secrets with, because the people we trust will only hurt or abandon us.”

  “I know where your mother is.”

  It slipped out. I didn’t mean to say it. I meant to wait, talk about it with Elian first, figure out how we’d break the news to her together, but the way she spoke about being abandoned… I couldn’t let her believe that.

  “What?”

  It came out so soft, Niva’s icy fa?ade may as well have melted with the smallest, tiniest quiver of her lip. A girl like her wasn’t used to being caught off guard.

  “She’s in Vocafeum,” I continued. No point of backing out now. “Has been for the last ten years. She never abandoned you. They forced her to leave.”

  “Why didn’t you say something when we met?”

  “I didn’t know, she never mentioned a daughter. I only found out yesterday.”

  She was either too distracted or didn’t care to question exactly how I’d found out.

  “She didn’t talk about me once?”

  I shook my head.

  “Sorry.”

  Niva laughed, an awful sound.

  “That’s brilliant. I’ve been torturing myself all these years wondering what happened to her and the woman pretends I don’t exist!” She stood up, a fire in her eyes I’d never seen in the short time I’d known her, but was at once familiar. “No, that’s great, good, no more sleepless nights caring about that then, case closed.”

  I took a step toward her, arms outstretched.

  “Niva are you alright-“

  “Don’t touch me.”

  She didn’t say it aggressively, but I think I preferred it when she was laughing. Her hazel eyes flitted side to side, needles desperately trying to thread her mask of stone back together, but the stone had cracked and there was no way to repair it now. She’d showed more than she meant to and couldn’t take it back.

  The hair on my arms stood up.

  “I need to go.”

  She scooped up her bomb and stormed out, leaving nothing but an eery silence behind her. And a feeling I’d made a very, very big mistake.

  Dinner that night was a delicious meal of battered fish and buttered potatoes and passed without any dramatic arguments. I was ready to turn in for the night once it was over, pacing along the halls up the main marble staircase until someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  I jumped in my skin, and also literally jumped, to see Elian.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

  “Reflexes, can’t control ‘em, can’t live without them amiright?” I forced a laugh before noting his conspiratorial smile. “Wait are we locating the files now?”

  “That’s the plan.” He took my hand, then paused. “Unless you’ve reconsidered?”

  I held his hand firmer, meeting his eyes with a determined stare.

  “Lead the way.”

  We raced down different corridors to the furthest, darkest corner of the Estate, then down a stone set of stairs, grey and cold, leeching all the colour and warmth from the stairway. Goosebumps raised on my arms as we walked down multiple floors, coming into a slightly brighter hallway. There were signs everywhere, flashing black and white, with arrows that led to a red velvet rope.

  Elian and I ducked beneath it, opening black double doors to reveal a massive room with rows upon rows of red plush chairs facing a blank screen and a line of decadent red sofas at the back.

  “What is this place?” I gushed.

  “A movie theatre,” Elian replied, rolling up his sleeves as he went to the sofa on the furthest left and started pushing.

  My face must’ve looked blank because he stopped pushing for a second.

  “You have seen a movie theatre before, right?”

  I shook my head.

  “Never got the chance. I was lucky if I overheard the wardens listening to the radio. Here, let me help with that.”

  We both pushed together, and the sofa moved to reveal a large hole in the ground, big enough for two people to stand in without their heads poking out, and a tunnel leading off it.

  “Do I want to ask how you know about this secret passage?”

  “Maybe another time,” he answered, sitting on the edge of the hole and pushing himself off.

  I did the same, only he grabbed my waist to lower me down and my cheeks went slightly warm.

  Once we were both in, he lifted his trained arms to move the sofa back in place and I felt around in the darkness for the opening of the tunnel.

  We had to duck slightly as we walked under the low ceiling, and I felt a steep incline that continued up until I saw pinpricks of light at the end.

  They got closer and closer, revealing a door, and I didn’t need a spyhole to know it led to the tearoom. The sweet, earthy smell of tea permeating through every crack told me that much.

  We stepped inside, and he veered off to the left towards the big fireplace, ignoring the table laden with the leftovers of various cakes, tarts and pies.

  I managed to make out strawberry, grape and blueberry in pink, purple and blue hues before Elian’s voice called out.

  “This way.”

  He was feeling around the edges of the fireplace for something, pushing every ornament that lined it until his fingers brushed a china cup. He pulled on it, and the fireplace split open, revealing yet another tunnel.

  “Please tell me everything’s more straight-forward from here,” I said, but he shook his head, smiling to himself.

  “Never been a fan of straight-forward.”

  We walked through the second tunnel, the fireplace closing behind us, this time walking a bit faster, the clock subconsciously ticking at the back of both our minds. We came to a dead end, but Elian simply pushed and the wall swung outwards. When we got out I saw we’d come through a section of the corridor wall.

  He strode towards the second to last room down the hallway.

  “Stay there,” he whispered then took a deep breath before knocking on the door. Once. Twice. No answer.

  He gestured for me to follow as he went inside, straight to the cyb-screen that sat at a large oak desk with papers neatly stacked, the walls a familiar shade of navy blue, obscured by a bookcase against the right hand wall and a photograph of the Chancellor, and men who looked so similar to him they could only be his father and grandfather, that hung in silver frames, watching over the desk in the same stern expression each painting shared.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Elian started typing into the cyb-screen.

  “Only five people in the whole entire world know the password to the Estate’s files.” He looked up with a smug grin. “And you’re looking at one of them.”

  I listened at the door, waiting each second for the sound of heavy boots to come, nothing for now.

  “How long is this going to take?”

  “I’m going as fast as I can, you should see the number of files on this thing. ‘The Relegate Project’ sounds promising. It should be printing now.”

  The printer whirred into life and started printing the pages of paper, which compared to the silence that filled the room, save our voices, beforehand, thrummed like heavy construction work.

  “It’s taking too long.”

  “It’s the only option we have,” said Elian. “Sending these documents to any other cyb-screen will enact the security protocols, which will take even longer to bypass. Is anyone coming yet?”

  “No, but it’s only a matter of time until-“

  Footsteps.

  “Guards!” I cried as loud as I dared.

  Their voices were too quiet to make out words, but they wouldn’t be far for long.

  Elian switched off the cyb-screen and ran to the printer.

  “It’s not done yet.”

  “We have about thirty seconds so it better hurry up.”

  “Come on, come on!” he encouraged the printer, as if that would make it go faster.

  The printer pressed on even louder, not caring whether we were caught or not, and the voices grew with each second, joined by the pounding in my chest.

  I’d never exactly feared for my life before, but now I found myself clinging to it like a bandage misplaced on an infected wound.

  Then the printer went quiet.

  Elian ripped the pages from the tray.

  “Quick. This way.”

  We strode across the room to the bookshelf, which he started pulling from the wall. It mercifully opened without a sound to reveal a hidden room behind it, barely big enough to squeeze the both of us, with no ceiling. The bottom of a shaft then.

  We closed the bookshelf behind us just as the door opened.

  “Tell Elexis her proposal is laughable. Now is the time to be strong, not weak. And Atticus will back me on that. The Triumvirate only holds up if we can all agree,” the Chancellor’s voice rang out.

  Elian put a finger up to his lips, the message clear.

  Be quiet.

  I echoed the gesture to show I understood and our eyes lingered on each other, fear making both our hearts beat faster.

  “Speaking of Atticus, has there been word of his daughter, Ariadne? I’d like her to spend some time at the Estate before Elian proposes, so she can feel at home when the move becomes official.”

  “Yes, sir,” a muffled voice, probably an assistant, agreed.

  “Wonderful, thank you. It’ll be so nice to see Elian finally settled with a lovely Custom wife instead of- oh that’s odd. Why is the printer warm?”

  I gulped. This was it.

  He had no proof it was us though, maybe he’d let it go and we could still make it out of this. Mind you, we may have evaded the guards but the cameras around the Estate still worked.

  What had I done? Any second now he’d go looking for the perpetrator and find the footage of us logging onto his cyb-screen. I was so dead.

  “Check the login history, then I want to review the footage of who came into this room without my permission.”

  My chest rose and fell faster. And Elian’s eyes flitted back and forth between me and the source of his father’s voice, weighing up a decision.

  He handed me the records then gestured with both his palms facing me, arms outstretched.

  Stay.

  I nodded as he did something so dangerously stupid I almost cried out to ask what on Earth he thought he was doing.

  He opened the book case.

  Only a crack so I stayed hidden, but I heard at least five guards cock their guns as he trudged out with his head bowed low, a mask of submissive weakness.

  I couldn’t believe he’d do something so reckless, but then I couldn’t talk, given my track record of doing reckless, stupid things.

  “Hello father. Sir.”

  “Elian? What on Earth do you think you’re doing, sneaking around?”

  “I hid because I thought you’d get angry I was using your cyb-screen. And look, I was right.”

  How he kept his nerve with such a man I didn’t know, but it was more than army training pumping his veins with steel in that moment.

  “Watch yourself. You’re never to use mine without permission, you know that. Now, what was so urgent that you needed to print classified files from it in the middle of the night?”

  “I-I er…”

  “Speak up!”

  “I wanted to make a bet with Estrella on which Relegates would make it through to the end. I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Foolish boy. Don’t do it again, do you hear me? You have a position to uphold. And it’s a delicate position. You’ve got to be better than this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where are these printed files?”

  “I destroyed them in case they got into the wrong hands.”

  There was a tense pause.

  “Search him.”

  There was a shuffle as I assumed one of the guards tipped Elian’s coat inside out.

  “What’s in those papers could threaten the entire country. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Certainly father, but as I’m sure your assistant will prove, I’m not the idiot you think I am. I don’t have the files. I destroyed them,” he reiterated, his anger poking through.

  “Nothing on him,” said whoever had searched him.

  “Just as well. Go back to your room. I don’t want to see you until the morning. You’re lucky I don’t send you away to the front again for this.”

  The war front. I still couldn’t believe he’d been so close to the fighting. That his father would risk his life like that.

  The door creaked open as he made to leave but he must’ve stopped because I heard him take a breath.

  “Father,” he asked, “Did we ever find out what happened to Ramya?”

  “That was years ago, why do you want to know?”

  “Niva brought it up, she misses her mother.”

  I’d give Elian points for his quick thinking, it wasn’t the worst lie I’d ever heard.

  “It’s only natural,” sighed the Chancellor, sounding almost weary, “But like I said back then, with the trauma of the accident who knows what she might’ve done. Our best guess is that she did the honourable thing and moved away so she wouldn’t be a burden to those that loved her.”

  “Of course, father. Goodnight, apologies for my curiosity.”

  It was hard to ignore the tremble in his voice, as if every muscle in his jaw was pulled taut with anger, his mouth a trap he was trying to stop from snapping.

  His footsteps faded and I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was quickly replaced by terror as I realised, he’d left me alone. Trapped in a room with a tyrant as my jailer. Not ideal.

  The minutes passed, and I struggled to stay completely still as the Chancellor talked to his assistant and guards, telling them to do this and that, errands mostly, until he said something that caught my attention and froze me to the spot.

  “Is everything prepared for the next trial? We’re expecting a lot more eliminations this round, and a lot more deaths. The body collectors will need to act quickly.”

  Body collectors.

  A lump formed in my throat, the image of the first trial’s ending still seared into my mind.

  “Yes, sir,” the assistant replied.

  “Perfect. The project is turning more tedious than I’d thought it would be, but the effort will be worth it, eh? Soon the Relegates will be able to fulfil a more meaningful purpose, and the whole country will be grateful.”

  “Sir, I’m afraid whatever popularity you gain through the Relegate Project will be overshadowed by your reluctance to talk about the recent attacks by the Lion Legion.”

  The Chancellor gave a chuckle.

  “The Lion Legion don’t pose any threat. They have petty words and nothing else.”

  “The other lords disagree, they fear for their lives, sir.”

  “Cowards often do. Fine, I’ll make a speech after the second trial. Now go and rest easy, there’s much to do and you’ll need your energy.”

  “Goodnight, sir.”

  There was a large shuffle as the guards exited the room.

  “Say, you don’t think I should tell Elian the truth about Ramya, do you? He’s close to Niva and I fear for her sake he’ll never stop looking. But if he finds out we sent her away it could ruin everything, he’d turn against me. Honestly, that boy complicates everything with his… sentimentality.”

  Sentimental wasn’t the first word that came to mind when I thought of Elian but clearly his father saw some sort of weakness in him. And worse, saw that weakness as dangerous.

  “Don’t blame yourself sir,” the assistant, who apparently hadn’t left, replied, “Spare the rod, spoil the child and all that. Children these days have grown soft.”

  “My thoughts exactly. My father used to clap me on the ears just for looking at him funny but you know, it made me stronger. Before you go, do you see that book on the shelf, yes the thick green one, is that the one Shirley wants me to publish for her?”

  “Indeed it is.”

  “Bring it here, I might as well get started on the editing. Although I’m sure the biggest improvement would be to burn the whole thing.” He belly-laughed, and the assistant laughed too.

  “Good one, sir.”

  The assistant’s footsteps shuffled closer to the bookshelf.

  The book he meant was in an awkward place and such a thick volume that no matter where I tried to hide I’d be exposed if it came out.

  I searched for an escape but it was no use. The three other walls were sealed, unmovable.

  I shut my eyes as he came closer and closer. In a few seconds they’d see me, and I’d be sentenced to death. Did I really have to be caught like this though? Hiding behind books?

  Don’t get me wrong, most books were great, I just didn’t want to be killed because of one.

  A hand covered my face, stopping me from screaming, and turned my head upwards so I could see Elian dangling from a hole high in one of the walls from a piece of rope.

  I’d never been so happy to see his stupid face.

  He wrapped my arms around his waist and started climbing, lifting both of us up until we reached the opening he’d come from, and slid in just in time to see the book removed and light flooding the spot I’d been moments earlier.

  Elian rested on his elbows above me, out of breath, while I watched him, realising I still had my hand on his chest.

  I removed it without a word.

  Once he’d caught his breath, he silently started to crawl, beckoning me to follow him.

  We seemed to be in the Estate’s ventilation system, an endless maze of tunnels and openings.

  We turned right, left, right, then right again, then many more lefts until I completely lost my bearings. But we were far enough to be safe.

  “I thought you’d left me.” My voice echoed gently through the tunnels.

  “I considered it, but the urge to fulfil my childhood dream of becoming a spy was too strong. Besides, who else is going to make my life more difficult?”

  “Ah, the man fancies himself a funny guy,” I remarked.

  “I hope not, it would really ruin the suave, sophisticated image I was trying to put out.” He stopped at a grate before I could answer back. “We’re by the guest rooms, I’ll lower you down.”

  He tied the rope around my waist as I slid out of the shaft, almost collapsing with relief as my feet hit the ground.

  Elian pulled up the rope and did the same, lowering himself slowly.

  “Which one’s yours?” he asked when he’d finally reached the floor. I pointed at the door down the hall.

  “Through here.”

  We entered, and I noticed that the empty milkshake glasses had been cleaned up and the floor hoovered so there was no sign of the absolute dump this room had become. The cause of the cleanliness ran up to us.

  “Ayla, you disobeyed the curfew again! I thought they’d caught you!”

  Was that worry in Ganymede’s face?

  “Come on, you know I can escape anything,” I said.

  Elian gave a pointed cough.

  “With help,” I amended. “We won’t be long, just going to read these files.”

  The android placed his hands on his hips.

  “Master Endavell-Alvidrez, you better not be leading her astray. Please don’t break the rules again, I don’t want to get decommissioned.”

  “If anything, she’s the bad influence on me,” Elian protested.

  I retorted by pulling a face and reached out a hand to the android as if it would comfort him.

  “Ganymede I’m not going to let that happen. You’re safe.”

  I bit my lower lip. If the Chancellor wanted Ganymede decommissioned, there wasn’t anything I could do about it, but I’d defend him to the death, that was certain.

  “We should make a start on these,” Elian said, gesturing to the makeshift coffee table. We both sat down, spreading the files in fan formation across it.

  I picked up the first one.

  A participant’s picture sat in the top left corner while rather personal details ran down the page beside it. The person in the picture could have been ruggedly handsome were it not for the bruise around his obviously broken nose and startled eyes. Probably from a fight with one of the guards, or even another member of his institution. Either way I didn’t remember seeing his face among those who made it back from the ship. Swallowing a bubble in my throat and shaking off the rising tension in my chest, I flipped the page.

  Across the page lay a mind map of the participant’s hopes, fears, behaviour records, reasons for recruitment, even suggestions for which other participants he’d form alliances with and which ones he’d make enemies of.

  Perhaps most chilling of all was his predicted outcome listed at the bottom of the page. Conversion. Conversion to whatever robotic monstrosity the Chancellor had designed. If Elian wanted evidence for his case, he didn’t need to look much further.

  “You think this’ll be enough?” I asked him.

  “If we were going up against anyone else I’d say yes but this is the Triumvirate. We’re fighting against the backbone of our nation. Not to mention my father who trained me for the politics of the Triumvirate himself. He knows all my tactics, all my strategies. If we have any hope of ending the institutions, our case will need to be airtight.”

  Elian returned to the file in his hand as if it contained the final piece of the puzzle that would make him unbeatable.

  He flipped the page and I watched his eyes widen for a split second before he turned his head away before his cheeks reddened further and handed it to me.

  It was me. My face. My life. Laid out in a few lines.

  Alright, a bit more than a few. I took up the whole page as it listed my worst antics and crimes, my illnesses, the experiments I’d been a part of, plainly for anyone to see.

  And written in red at the bottom, the fate they believed waited for me at the end of all this.

  Predicted Outcome: Servitude

  Servitude? Not becoming a Custom, not conversion. Servitude.

  Which meant what, exactly? They thought I’d do whatever they wanted? Be their little puppet like Shirley said I was, even if I survived all their trials?

  I’d rather die.

  But it was only a prediction, I reminded myself. It didn’t mean anything. I swallowed, glancing nervously at Elian, “You don’t want to read it?”

  “It’s none of my business.”

  “I don’t mind.” I bit my lip. “It’s not exactly private information anymore.”

  Well, technically it was, but privacy at the institution was a luxury.

  He held my hands in his, his face inches from mine.

  “It’s none of my business.”

  A smile ticked one side of my jaw.

  “Then you’re a better person than I am.”

  He busied himself with the papers.

  “Anything you want me to know, you can tell me yourself.”

  “Actually, I do have something you should know,” I said, wringing my hands. “I told Niva about Ramya, I’m sorry.”

  “You did what?”

  “It slipped out, she was so upset, talking about people abandoning her, she needed to know her mother didn’t.”

  He took a deep breath, nodding to himself. Probably thinking of all the possible consequences.

  “At least it came from someone who actually knew Ramya. But Niva might be unpredictable for a while, she feels more than she lets on. I’ll handle it. You just focus on staying alive tomorrow. Good luck.”

  I hadn’t even thought much about tomorrow, being so distracted with freeing all the Relegates I hadn’t even considered the ones currently at the Estate.

  “Thanks,” I told him, “I hope I’ll see you afterwards.”

  He smiled, gathering up the papers and exiting the room. At the door he turned to face me one last time.

  “I’m counting on it.”