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  ******

  For the next few hours, Vincent and Jessica sat together in a small, underground room that was hidden beneath the master bed. The space was almost pitch black, lit only by burning, finger-width sticks Vincent had never seen before. The lack of white, too, was something novel. The room’s walls and floor both, each damp and soft to the touch, were colored a dark, natural brown. No other dome Vincent had been inside had anything like it. Though, admittedly, he had been in only a handful.

  A metallic rustling sound drifted down to them from somewhere near the ceiling. A second later, the trapdoor under the master bed swung upward, providing the cellar with only the rays of light slippery enough to slither by the man-shaped shadow above.

  “It’s safe,” said the caster of the shadow. “You can come up.”

  Jessica rose without question. Vincent got to his feet more cautiously.

  “It’s ok,” said Jessica. “It’s my dad.”

  Vincent nodded in response, but he wasn’t assuaged. A man with a hidden room underground and a dome that ran off of private power didn’t call to mind a particularly trustworthy image.

  Vincent followed Jessica up the steeply angled stairs toward the trapdoor. A few seconds later, they were back in the bedroom.

  “In here.”

  The voice called out again, out of sight this time. They traced its source to the Main, where a short, grubby looking man with a rounded stomach was entering from a door behind the kitchen. As he did, the room brightened from somewhere overhead.

  “Generator’s back,” he said. Vincent looked around with the aid of the lights for the first time. The dome varied greatly from the Seclusion standard. It felt more natural. The dining table actually looked used: strewn with articles of the day and scattered with flattened out cubes of bound paper, the likes of which Vincent had seen only in the simulations. Even the walls, usually the main source of the Seclusion’s empty perfection, had been decorated, mostly with images of the same three people: Jessica, her father, and a woman Vincent didn’t recognize. The sterile chill that seemed to follow Vincent around the Seclusion like a shadow was utterly absent here.

  “You didn’t say there was someone with you, Jessica.” The round man who had entered from the kitchen stood next to the dining table, his eyes trained on Vincent with undisguised suspicion. He was short, only just taller than Jessica, with a face as round as his stomach and a nose so wide it must surely have haunted the lower edge of his vision.

  “Vincent, this is my dad,” said Jessica. “He’s a developer for Newsight. He works on the software that runs our Lenses. Dad, Vincent is a friend from school.”

  Less tense now, but still never taking his large, beady eyes off of Vincent, Jessica’s father extended his hand. Vincent stepped forward to shake it.

  “Simon,” said the man. “I trust my Jessica has been taking care of you.”

  Vincent nodded.

  “And your parents,” Simon continued, “they’re safe?”

  Vincent nodded again. He had received word from both of them while he and Jessica were in the cellar. The Lenses, though this attack had been far worse than the one before, had remained fully functional.

  “Do they have a transport?” asked Simon.

  “No, sir,” said Vincent.

  Simon grunted his disapproval but said nothing back. Jessica broke the silence.

  “Can you take him, daddy?” she asked. She was still standing next to Vincent, but as she spoke, she stepped closer to Simon. The man’s gaze softened as if by a switch, and his tenseness seemed to ease. Still, Vincent didn’t relish the idea of riding in a transport, let alone in the transport of the man who stood before him now.

  “It’s really fine,” said Vincent. “Don’t feel like you have to go through any trouble. Jessica has done more than enough already.”

  Simon seemed satisfied by the answer. He turned to Jessica. “Well you heard the boy. He’ll be all right.”

  “Dad.” She said the word in a parental kind of tone, almost scolding. Simon sighed in response, then looked away, running a hand through what little hair he had left. After a pause, he turned back to face them.

  “Where do you live?” he asked.

  Vincent didn’t lie this time. “446 Ocean,” he said.

  “This side of the Center?” asked Simon.

  Vincent shook his head. “Opposite.”

  Simon turned to Jessica, then back to Vincent. He sighed again, heavier this time.

  “Come on then,” he said to Vincent, flicking his head. “Out front.” He turned and started for the front door.

  “Uh…” Vincent stayed where he was. “I’m fine, really. I didn’t see a transport out there, anyway.”

  “I called it around from the garage,” Simon shot back over his shoulder. He was already at the exit.

  “Go,” Jessica cut in. “It’s no trouble. He’s always excited to drive.”

  “Are you sure?” Vincent watched, unconvinced, as Simon disappeared through the main door.

  Jessica laughed. It was a pleasant sound, soft and sweet, and a pitch higher than Vincent would have expected.

  “You’re fine,” said Jessica, still smiling. “You better hurry though.”

  Vincent took a deep breath. Surely this couldn’t be worse than the explosions.

  He cast Jessica what he hoped to be a confident look, then started for the door. He emerged outside a moment later where Simon was standing on the left side of a long, two-wheeled white contraption with an egg-shaped pod set in the middle. It looked barely big enough for two people.

  “Get in,” said Simon, motioning to the side opposite his. Hesitating, but knowing he didn’t have much of a choice, Vincent stepped forward. He found a small button on the thing’s exterior and pressed it, flinching slightly when the door slid to the side, deeper into a hollowed part of the pod. He climbed in and the door closed automatically after him. The interior was simple, just two plain seats, made of a sleek, slippery kind of material, positioned side by side behind a narrow dash where, in front of Simon, was a series of buttons and controls Vincent had never seen before.

  Simon noticed Vincent’s puzzled expression. “Your parents don’t drive?”

  Vincent shook his head. “My father doesn’t trust transports. He doesn’t think Newsight should have them all on the same network.”

  “Neither do I,” said Simon. “Jessica’s mother passed away in a transport accident. It was because of the network automation. This one will always stay off the grid.”

  Simon did something with his Lenses, then, so smoothly Vincent hardly noticed, the transport began rolling backwards. When it reached the street, it corrected itself with a half turn so it faced forward. They paused there, and Simon looked over at Vincent, amused. Vincent realized he had grabbed onto the inside of the door. His knuckles were nearly as white as the paint.

  Turning from Vincent, grinning, Simon started the transport down the path and around the second ring. There were only four paths that connected any one ring to the others, and Vincent lived on the one farthest: North Ocean. It was a distance from them which, traversed by Simon’s fragile-looking transport, left plenty of time for accident. But as they drove, Vincent’s nerves began to settle. The ride was almost entirely smooth, and the sounds of the outside were completely mute. The Seclusion was eerily peaceful given the events of the day.

  “Your father,” said Simon, breaking the silence as if just remembering their earlier exchange. “He’s not a fan of Newsight?”

  “It’s not that,” said Vincent. “He’s just…cautious, I guess.”

  Simon never shifted his eyes from the path ahead, but he didn’t quite succeed in masking his interest. “What does he do?”

  “He’s a Senator,” said Vincent.

  Simon grunted at this. “Has his hands full at the moment then I suppose.” His tone didn’t sound convinced.

  “Yeah, he does,” said Vincent, firmly. “But he’ll figure it out. He figures out all the
attacks. He’ll make the Order pay for this one.”

  Simon kept his eyes fixed straight forward. “They still think the attack came from the Order?”

  Vincent frowned. It took him a moment to find his words. “Of course they do.”

  “So I assume they haven’t launched an investigation then?” pressed Simon. “About the Newsight litigation?”

  Vincent thought back to dinner the night before, to his father’s comments about the lobbyists. “You mean about the data regulations?” Simon nodded. The transport tipped sideways as they banked to the right. Vincent grabbed onto the door once again. He could feel Simon’s eyes on him. “Why would they?” he asked.

  “Why would they not?” snapped Simon. “The government partnership for the new tech, the recall, and now the attack? If they let the bill through after all of that, then they’re blinder than I thought.”

  Vincent frowned. “Blind to what?” he asked.

  Simon opened his mouth, then closed it again. He shook his head. “If you don’t see it, you’re just as bad as they are,” he said. “Unfortunately, you won’t have to wait long to realize what you’re missing. I expect the bill will be passed soon.”

  “Maybe not,” said Vincent. Simon snorted, but Vincent continued. “You haven’t heard what my father has been saying.”

  Simon perked up at this. “About the bill?” Vincent nodded. “What has he told you?” asked Simon.

  Vincent shrugged, noncommittal. “Why do you think there should be an investigation?”

  Simon stared at Vincent for a moment, eyebrows raised, then snorted again, under his breath this time. “If only the Senate were so curious,” he said. They began to decelerate after these last words – they had come to a checkpoint of the Guard. A man in all white with his palm raised out in front of him stood in the center of the path, blocking their way. Behind him, a dozen or so more men of the same dress were huddled around the front door of a rather ornate-looking dome. Vincent hardly noticed.

  “What should the Senate be investigating?” he pressed.

  Simon glanced at him before turning back to the man outside. He shook his head. “You’re just as bad as Jessica.”

  The Guard in front of them stepped out of the path, and they began to accelerate once again. Vincent held his gaze on Simon. The man was silent for several seconds.

  “I’m not sure how the government partnership factors in,” said Simon, after a pause, “but the recall and the attack are clear enough.” He hesitated here, fixing his eyes straight ahead, seeming to deliberate whether or not he should continue. “The recall was nothing more than an excuse for Newsight to ship out the upgrades,” he said. “The maintenance issues were all fake.”

  “What do you mean fake?” said Vincent. He was no longer looking out the window. His eyes were trained on the round-faced developer sitting next to him.

  Simon acted reluctant, but Vincent could tell he wanted to keep talking. He had the same look in his eyes Father got when talking about the Order. “Did your Lenses go out today?” asked Simon. “During the attack?” Vincent shook his head. “But they went out yesterday, didn’t they? From a little vibration. Why do you think that is?”

  Vincent shrugged. “The upgrades are just more resilient I guess.”

  Simon wagged his right index finger, smiling. He seemed to be enjoying himself. “You think the inventors of the most advanced technology of the millennium would let their entire system go down from a little turbulence?” He snorted at the thought. “If you’re anything like Jessica,” he continued, “then you’ve tried to take out your new Lenses.” Vincent nodded in confirmation. There was no need to lie anymore. “Well others have tried as well, and they’ve come up with the same result you have. No one can take them out. Newsight has released a statement saying it’s because of the adjustment period, that the Lenses will be removable in a few days, but I’m not so sure. I don’t think there was ever anything wrong with the old Lenses. Fatrem didn’t send out a more resilient product; he sent out a more permanent one.”

  Vincent frowned. “Why would Newsight want to make the Lenses permanent?”

  “The data they collect is only valuable if it’s comprehensive,” said Simon. “Otherwise, they only see what people want them to.”

  Vincent was shaking his head. “The Senate would never let Lenses be permanent,” he said. Simon didn’t argue – he seemed to know he didn’t have to. “What about the attack?” said Vincent, changing the subject. “How is that a part of anything?”

  Simon drove in silence past the next cluster of the Guard, seeming to consider how best to answer. “You can work this out for yourself,” he said. “Look around. What do you notice?”

  Vincent stared, dutifully, out through the oval shaped windows. “The Guard,” he said. “They’re going into–”

  “Not the Guard,” said Simon, impatient. “The domes. Who lives in them?”

  Vincent hesitated at this, not sure if it was a trick question. “In the inner rings,” he started, “mostly people who work for Newsight. Some Senators too.”

  Simon nodded. “That’s right. But it’s not just the inner rings; it’s the whole Seclusion. Think. Who goes to your school? Who do you have class with?”

  Vincent started fumbling for the few names he knew. “Well there’s Jessica and Brian…I think there’s a Sam. Or maybe it’s…” He trailed off, painfully aware of how pitiful he sounded. Simon, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice.

  “Right again,” he said. “Newsight kids. And Senators’ kids, too. All because of Fatrem’s initiative some 10 years ago that brought them here. Why do you think he would want all of these important people in a single Seclusion?”

  Vincent ventured a guess he was almost certain would be countered. “To protect them?”

  Simon snorted. “Protection has nothing to do with it,” he said. “It’s all about leverage. Fatrem knew the Senate would never go for his bill. Whatever he’s asking for in return for stopping the Order must not be worth it. After all, the Senators don’t really care about stopping the attacks. All they care about is–”

  “My father cares,” Vincent cut in. He wouldn’t have been so sure before saying it, but after the words left his lips, he knew them to be true.

  “Maybe he does,” said Simon. “But don’t be ignorant. The majority of others in the Senate are only there for one reason: their paycheck.” When Vincent didn’t argue, Simon continued. “Fatrem knew if he wanted to get anything passed to ‘fight the Order’, the Senators would have to feel the Order for themselves.” As the transport began to turn, twisting along the path around the Center, Simon flicked his gaze toward the window. Confused, Vincent looked out after him. He saw the Capitol where his father worked, the Newsight campus, and the patch of ground where the school should have been – that’s what Simon was looking at. Vincent thought back to the hallway when he had run into Jessica. He had seen Brian there, too. Just moments before the attack, the other boy, the son of a Newsight executive, had known to leave

  What Simon was implying came to Vincent in a rush.

  “You think Fatrem let the Order’s attack through,” said Vincent. “You think he let the Senators’ kids be killed just to get his bill passed.” The words tasted filthy coming out of his mouth, forbidden. But to Simon, whose lips had sprawled into a broad, satisfied grin, they were as sweet as honey.

  “It’s looking less like a theory than a fact,” said Simon. “But I don’t suppose your father shares the same opinion.”

  The transport rolled to a stop – they had reached Vincent’s dome. Simon turned to it and Vincent followed his gaze. Both of their eyes came to a rest on the front door, behind which, somewhere inside, was Vincent’s father.

  “He hasn’t said anything about all that,” said Vincent, turning back to Simon, “but he has said he doesn’t think the bill will pass. The Senate is fighting against it. He says both parties are cooperating now more than ever.”

  “Cooperating?” Sim
on repeated the word, his eyebrows raised, his lips curled at the corners. “That’s not a good sign. Cooperation leads to collusion, and collusion to conspiracy. At the end of it there won’t be two parties at all. No government at all. Whoever controls the data controls everything. And a man named Alduss Fatrem controls quite a lot already.” Simon paused here. His tone was no longer so gloating, his grin no longer so wide. “So I hope you’re right, Vincent,” he said. “I hope your father is right. Because if not, if the bill is passed…” he looked once again at the front door of Vincent’s dome, “…we’ll all be just another set of eyes for Newsight.”