Rebel (Legend, #4)(53)

Hann studies the engine I’ve made closely. “And this will work,” he says, lifting an eyebrow at me.

I wish it didn’t. But everything else about the machine was already in place. All it needed was enough of a power boost. And my engine has given him that.

My silence is the answer that he needs. He smiles in approval at me, then straightens. “I want to see a demonstration of it, then,” he says. “Send out a blank sample of a signal.”

Of course he wants to test it. I glance to where his guards are watching us, then back to the machine, where one of his workers comes over to start programming in a blank sample to test the signal.

“You look nervous, Eden,” Hann says to me as I watch them work. “It’s as if you don’t believe in the capabilities of your engine.”

“It works,” I reply, but there’s a slight tremble in my voice. Is he really going to free Daniel if this works? I think back to everything Hann had told me about himself. If I fail at this, will Hann kill me? It’s all part of his business, after all.

We wait until the programmer has finished inputting a sample signal. It’s fast, the work of a moment. I watch carefully as he does it, observing the chip he places on the machine and then the info he swipes right onto the system. He steps away from the machine, then nods at us.

“Ready,” he says.

Hann nods. “Good.” We all take a step back from the machine. “Send the signal out.”

The machine’s coil begins to glow. At its bottom, my drone engine, now with its power amplified, glows a bright, brilliant blue.

Maybe everything I’d calculated is incorrect, and my engine will fail the machine. If that happens, what will he do with Daniel?

For a moment, nothing happens. I hold my breath, waiting.

Then a pulse comes from the machine. It ripples out in a wave of vibration that tingles through my body. On the machine’s monitor, the entirety of Ross City lights up with green dots, millions of them.

When I look over at Hann, his eyes are bright and focused. A smile plays on his face.

The signal works. I can see it written all over his expression. And in spite of myself, I feel a wild surge of pride at what my engine is capable of. This is the first real test of something I’ve made, and Dominic Hann—of all people—is the one who gave me the chance to do it.

My delight makes me recoil in horror.

Hann glances at me and nods. “You’re pleased,” he says. “And it goes beyond your desire to protect your brother.”

I’m too afraid to say anything back.

He studies me curiously. “Could it be because, deep down, you believe in everything that I’ve told you before?”

“You promised me that you would release my brother if this worked,” I say through clenched teeth. “How good is your word?”

“Don’t ever question my word.” Hann looks to his side and nods once. Two of his guards don’t even hesitate for a breath. They bow immediately, then leave without a word.

“I want to see it,” I say. “On a live feed, like you told me.”

“Done.” Hann turns back to me. “Any other requests?” he asks.

My palms are slick with sweat, and my heart shivers with each beat. There’s the final question I have, the one that Hann hasn’t answered up until now, and that I’m almost too scared to ask.

“What’s the signal for?” I say, my voice coming out like a hoarse whisper. “What does your machine do?”

Hann smiles sidelong at me. I look back up at the machine. My gaze settles on the screen full of green dots.

And suddenly, I know. The Levels that had crushed his family, the system that had forced his mother’s hand. The points, the game that runs this city.

I know what this machine is going to do.

It’s going to take down Ross City’s entire Level system.





DANIEL



Maybe it’s still the same night as when I was having my illusions of memories about June. I can’t tell.

My lips crack from thirst. My eyes can focus only on a gray line of sparse embroidery along the edge of the floor’s rug. The guards near the door shuffle their boots against the floor.

They sound like they’re about to switch out. The two women are still here. There are other guards now too, just arrived, and in the exchange between them, I listen for clues.

“The boy’s been working on the site,” one of them says in a low voice. “He’s good, from what I hear.”

“Yeah?”

“It sounds like Hann has really taken to him.”

Another sighs. “Great. But what about us? How long are we going to sit around with this one?”

The woman shrugs. “As long as it takes.”

As long as it takes. Through my thirst-induced weakness, I attempt to concentrate. Are they trying to break Eden? Has he not already offered his help?

I close my eyes, trying to stave off the nausea that bites at my insides. My hands twist quietly behind my back. I’ve been tightening and loosening my hands against the ropes for hours now. My wrists are scraped down to the flesh, and I can feel the blood trickling wet down my hands, probably soaking crimson into the rope fibers. But it’s not for nothing; the rope has loosened slightly since I first started working on it. Another couple of hours, and I might be able to slip a hand through one of them.