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  Vincent craned his neck around the edge of the dome behind which he was hiding. He stared down the path that cut through the second ring, half expecting an army of gray clad men to emerge from the shadows.

  “Vincent!”

  He spun around, his muscles tensed to run, but relaxed when he saw Jessica approaching around the dome next to him, opposite the path he had been watching.

  “I thought you would come from the other direction,” he said when she had joined him.

  “I cut through the Center,” she said offhandedly. Then, when she saw Vincent’s surprise: “I didn’t want to be predictable. And I made it here, didn’t I?”

  Vincent said nothing back. Making it, and making it without being detected were two very different scenarios, the difference between which would become evident only when it was too late.

  “Are you ok?” Vincent asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said back.

  Vincent didn’t contradict her, though he could see, even in the dark, the slight shaking of her hands.

  “When did they come?” he asked.

  “A few hours after I went to bed,” said Jessica. “My dad must have been right before yours.”

  She seemed to know what had happened without having to ask.

  “Did he tell you about the bill?” asked Vincent. “Before he was taken?”

  Jessica nodded. “He’s been telling me,” she said. “And now it’s too late to do anything about it.”

  “It’s not too late!” said Vincent. “People won’t let this happen.”

  “People want blood, Vincent. The Order’s blood. And Fatrem can tell them exactly where to find it. He can implicate whoever he wants.”

  Vincent shook his head. “But people will find out,” he said. “People will try to stop him.”

  “Who will?”

  Vincent frowned, confused at first, but as he let his eyes wander down the ring, scanning the unlit, peaceful domes that lined its either side, he saw what she meant: nowhere was there even the slightest sign of movement.

  “It’s the whole reason for the bill, Vincent,” said Jessica. “If Fatrem had taken things by force, people would have resisted. This way, he’s a hero. He’ll take down the Order one by one. But the Order is whoever he says it is. Tomorrow there will be a press release saying our dads were part of it. And then leaders of the Guard will be found guilty. Then politicians. Then the whole Senate.”

  Vincent felt the reality sink in him like quicksand. “Then there’s no one left to stand in the way.”

  Jessica looked down, silent. Vincent turned back to the empty path of the second ring. He found himself fixed with a mad desire to run from dome to dome, pounding on doors and telling people the truth, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  Vincent turned his gaze a bit closer, on the first ring, where the Newsight families lived: the gentry, the unopposing of a revolution that would sit them atop the new throne. But, Vincent thought, perhaps there was opposition after all.

  “I know where we need to go,” he said.

  Jessica turned to him. She too had been looking at the Center. “Where?”

  “I…” Vincent trailed off. He didn’t realize how ludicrous his theory would sound until it started to leave his mouth. But it was all he had to go on. It was their only hope. “I think I know someone who’s fighting against Newsight.”

  “Really?” said Jessica, suddenly with a spark of hope. “Who?”

  Vincent paused again. He thought back to the first sim about the Order, the one from which he had completely tuned out. In his survey of the room, except for Jessica, there had been only one other who had not been fully engaged. Vincent remembered the way Brian had caught his eye. The other boy had worn a grin, ever so faint a grin before his face had gone blank.

  “Brian,” said Vincent. Jessica deflated.

  “Vincent his mom is a Department Head,” she said. “Brian is the last person that would help.”

  “Your dad works for Newsight doesn’t he?” countered Vincent. “And he knew the truth. He wanted to fight, and so do you. Why does Brian’s family have to be any different? His parents could be–”

  “Parent,” said Jessica. “His dad isn’t around. It’s just his mom.” She took a breath to say something else, then hesitated, the pocket of air catching in her throat, held there by words she hadn’t quite let go. “She was there when they took my dad, Vincent.” It came out in a rush, and she panted slightly after she said it. She sank, too. She seemed to think the argument had been decided. Vincent wasn’t so sure.

  “You’ve met her?” he asked.

  Jessica nodded. “When my mom was her boss.” She paused, looking down, her cheeks sucked into her mouth. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “I just don’t think it makes sense, Vincent. Brian’s mom has almost as much to gain from this as Fatrem.”

  “But Fatrem will get rid of anyone who poses a threat!” said Vincent. He had to force himself to keep his voice near a whisper. His mind was racing. “She’ll know that.” Then he was thinking back to the simulation: to the day of the attack, when he had dreamed of the small brown house and the towers beyond. The words started to tumble from his lips now, as wildly assumed truths he somehow felt certain he could trust. “Besides,” he continued, “Brian said something to me the day of the attack, when I woke up in class. He said to be careful, that dreams are hard to hide. Maybe he was talking about hiding from Newsight. Maybe he knew about Fatrem’s plan.” He looked at Jessica, hating the thin film of glass that covered her dark brown eyes beneath. “Maybe his mom told him about the attack,” he said. “That could be why he was leaving – she must have figured out Fatrem’s plan.”

  “Or maybe she helped come up with it,” said Jessica.

  The air went still between them. Jessica’s expression was lined with doubt.

  “Look,” began Vincent, “I don’t know why, but I’m sure of this. Brian can help.”

  Jessica looked away, shaking her head. She bit down on the insides of her cheeks. Vincent lowered his voice.

  “I trusted you during the attack,” he said. “Now I need you to trust me back.”

  She held his gaze for several seconds, then cast a glance behind the dome next to them. She breathed out, heavily. “Ok,” she said. “I believe you.”

  Vincent released a breath of his own. In spite of everything, he allowed himself a small measure of relief.

  “When should we go?” asked Jessica.

  “Tonight.” Vincent didn’t hesitate. “We can’t wait until the morning. Do you know where he lives?”

  Jessica nodded. “I’ve seen him after school,” she said. She turned to the Center. “They live in the first ring.”