“As soon as we can sneak out of this country. By the time we discuss it with them, they’ll have no choice but to agree.”

“They’re going to kill you for this.”

I give him a sidelong grin. “They can try.”

We laugh a little at that, then fall back into silence. “What if we’re doing the wrong thing, Daniel?” Eden asks me. His voice is grave again. “What if restoring the entire system is exactly what shouldn’t happen?”

I look at my brother and take a deep breath. “Then maybe we don’t restore it to exactly what it was,” I finally reply.

I study his face, taking in how serious he is. “What are you planning?” I say.

“I can add a chip to the machine that tweaks how it handles the Level system.” He digs papers out of his pocket and waves me over to the desk. There, we bend over it as he points out where his engine is installed. “The machine pulses a signal through the city’s entire Level system,” he explains as he scribbles. “So we pulse a new signal through it that tells the Level system what to do.” He glances up at me. “Maybe we add some things to that signal that changes how the Level system judges people hooked up to it.”

I frown at him. “And you can do this before we leave?” he asks.

“It’s the machine that’s complicated to put together. Not the signal. Once you understand how it works, you can run another signal through easily. I watched them test one, and it took a matter of minutes.”

I think of the late nights I’d seen him up before, as a small boy and as a young man. The light of creation is bright in his eyes now, and as I consider his words, my emotions gradually alternate from uncertainty to wary hope. “A rebellion within a rebellion,” I murmur.

Eden smiles a little. “Never let it be said that we take the easy way out.”

* * *

June seems even less enthusiastic about the plan than I am. But she still shows up at our apartment late in the afternoon, her outfit simple and black, her voice hushed. Beside her, Pressa has a backpack that makes her look even more petite than she is, but she stands tall and confident, the grief in her gaze now replaced with resolution.

“If they come after our plane and we’re forced to stop, let me handle it,” June says. “I swear, somehow these things only ever happen when I’m with you two.”

I lean against the doorway and smile down at her. “You’re the one who agreed to help us.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t come.” She shrugs. “Anden will forgive me. It has to be done.”

I reach for her hand and brush her fingers with mine. “Thank you,” I murmur. My eyes skip to Pressa, who has unzipped her backpack and is handing something over to Eden. It looks like a small package of glass vials.

“This is a serum for Hann’s lung infection,” she says. “The way Eden describes his hoarse voice reminds me of the later stages of my dad’s illness. So I used to make this serum for him out of some of the herbs we carried. It’s not a cure, so don’t tell him that it is. He won’t believe you. But it should improve how he feels if he takes it every day.” She replaces the vials and gives the backpack to Eden.

“And it’s swallowed?” Eden asks.

“Swallowed.” Pressa nods. “But I did make one change. Hann’s serum contains a powerful sleeping drug. It’ll knock him out pretty hard and give him a slight fever that will throw off his judgment and strength. Give him a heavy enough dose of the serum, and it’ll stop his heart entirely.”

Trying to poison Hann will be a risky move. I bet he’s survived dozens of such attempts. Still, Eden gives Pressa a grim nod. My brother’s feelings for her are on full display here. I can see it in the way he pulls her in for a hug and how tightly he holds her, the faint blush on his cheeks as she smiles and hugs him back. In them, I see the early signs of how, despite our backgrounds, June and I had first come together.

Finally, we’re ready to head out. “Your signal?” I say to Eden.

He nods. His face is paler than it should be, and his hands are trembling slightly. But he seems calm enough as he holds up a tiny chip, so small that it could sit on the tip of his smallest finger. “Got it,” he replies.

As the President prepares to host his political meeting with the Elector, we take an unmarked military car to the airfield and into a plane that June has somehow gotten for us. The soldier who salutes us as we board is sweating up a storm. He doesn’t meet our eyes. June stops, though, to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll vouch for you,” she says. “Thank you for your help. The Elector himself will pardon you—I give you my word.”

He shuffles his feet. “Of course, Commander,” he replies to June.

We take off in silence. The plane has been airborne for only a half hour before a call comes in, right as we clear the waters of the Republic. The pilot’s voice flickers on overhead, and we all tilt our heads up as her apologetic words fill the air.

“Commander Iparis,” she says regretfully. “The Elector Primo has ordered me to patch him through. He would like a word with you.”

June doesn’t even blink. “Of course, ma’am,” she replies. I find myself marveling, yet again, at how cool and calm she can be even in the most stressful circumstances.

There’s a pause, followed by Anden’s deep, familiar voice. He sounds more weary than furious. “Hello, Commander,” he says, addressing June. “I assume, as usual, that you have a good reason for leaving the country without notifying me?”

June looks a little guilty at his tone. “As always,” she agrees. “It has everything to do with the emergency that you are currently discussing with President Ikari. We thought it best to discuss it with you while the plan is in action. There’s no time to waste.”

“Is Daniel Wing with you, then?” Another voice comes on—and this time, it’s Director Min’s. She sounds less formal than Anden, and much more livid.

“I’m here,” I say, glancing at my brother. “With Eden.”

“And do you have an explanation for this? Or should I have you all court-martialed the instant you land in Ross City?” She sighs. “I’ll have you know that the President is sitting with us as we speak. He would like to know why I can’t seem to wrangle one of my agents into line.”

“You know it has nothing to do with you, Director,” I reply evenly. “President Ikari, sir, the director has been nothing but gracious to me. But there are policies in place in Ross City that have her hands tied, and in turn, they tie my hands. With deepest respect, sir, the best way we have right now of confronting this crisis is for us to act against those policies you have in place.” I smile a little, even though I know they can’t see us. “Of course, we can discuss it now. If you like.”

There’s a pause, then the sigh of a man that I’ve never communicated directly with before. “Enlighten us, then, Mr. Wing,” he says. It’s a voice I’ve only ever heard in broadcasts or on screens. Now he’s addressing me by name. Suddenly, I feel the audacity of what we’re doing—of going against the leader of Antarctica.