“I have it covered,” Raffe assures me. “But it sounds like wherever you’re going might be dangerous. Are you sure you should be going alone? Maybe you should let me—”
“I’ll be fine. This is something I have to do by myself. But I need you to promise me that you won’t play the message. The recording device sounds faulty. I’m worried the pulse signal might not hold up for more than one additional play.” A tempting opportunity for someone who is looking to aid Symon and Dr. Barnes. Tracking down the recordings of The Testing should have proved that Raffe and I have the same goals. But there is a chance that he learned through his father about Symon and the false rebellion and knew those recordings would eventually be destroyed. If he plays this recording, I will know where his loyalties lie. And if he gives it to someone else to play, they will pay the price. Either way, I will have the answer I seek.
A flicker of annoyance crosses Raffe’s face. Almost as quickly as it appears, it is gone. “Are you at least going to tell me what’s on it? Or is that information only for you and your boyfriend?”
“I’ll tell you everything later tonight. Everything,” I stress, meeting his angry eyes. “I promise.”
I see the anger fade. “Okay,” he says, “then I promise too. Take care of yourself and don’t forget what you just said. I’m holding you to it.”
I watch him tuck the device I created into his bag, and I wonder if this is the last time we will see each other. The explosive I built is much like the ones my father and brothers used in their work when they needed to break apart rock. The amount of powder I used should severely injure or kill. If Raffe decides to listen and potentially eliminate the message he believes is there, he’ll flip the switch, turn the dial, and draw a spark from the wires that should ignite the powder I created.
Raffe and I walk out of the building together. As he heads toward the residence with the device, I picture the paper and powder igniting and then the blast. I want to run after him and take the device back, but I remember Stacia’s words. That which is wrong is sometimes necessary. As I turn and walk in the other direction, I wonder if The Testing officials tell themselves that too.
/> The sun is bright. The warmer weather combined with the brisk walk makes me sweat. Surrounding me are signs that spring has come to Tosu City. Greener grass. Buds transforming into leaves and flowers preparing to bloom. All signs of hope.
I cling to that hope as I check the tracking monitor. Both devices are close by. One looks as if it is near the Government Studies residence—Raffe. The other is somewhere southeast of my position. I would guess that Ian is at the library. Regardless, I know he is still on campus. Taking that as a good omen, I pick up my pace as I head for the stadium and the greenhouse that sits at its center.
Long ago, the structure was used for sports events, but after the Seven Stages of War, scientists needed a controlled environment in which to plant and cultivate their new specimens. Since this building had no logical purpose in the new culture of revitalization, the country’s top botanists enclosed the open space in the center of the structure with glass to create an enormous greenhouse and modified the surrounding rooms within the outer ring to function as genetics labs. Depending on the day, this area can be filled with activity as students, biologists, and various officials go about their work. Without internships compelling students to work, the building appears to be deserted.
I check the pulse radio recorder to see if Tomas has left a message as to where exactly he wants me to find him, but the light is not illuminated. While the stadium seems to be a good place to meet, it is huge. Just inside the front entrance seems like the most logical place, so I head in that direction.
As I walk, I turn on the Transit Communicator in case Zeen has news. When he doesn’t answer my call, I look around to see if anyone is nearby and looking my way. No one. I have toured this building, but I have had little need to use it—although Tomas has. After being assigned to Biological Engineering, he was forced to go through a potentially deadly Induction test here. Of all the designated fields of study, Biological Engineering most often works in this building, which is why it makes sense that Tomas wants to meet here.
The stadium entrance is open. I walk through the doors into the dimly lit corridor and look up and down the two hallways that lead away from here. No Tomas.
I’ve taken a couple steps down one hall to look for signs of a common waiting area when I hear footsteps behind me.
“Cia,” a male voice whispers.
I turn and squint down the shadowed corridor. Since this building is so large, the halls and most of the rooms are not illuminated unless they are in use. Most of the power collected by the enormous solar panels affixed to the roof is directed into maintaining the controlled climate in the greenhouse.
A figure steps into view.
“Tomas?” I ask, but I know it is not. The shoulders are too broad. The hair just a fraction too long.
My instincts scream for me to turn and run.
And I do.
Chapter 9
I HEAR A voice curse. Someone must have known about our meeting and followed me in. To do what? I don’t know, but I am pretty sure I don’t want to find out.
Blood pounds in my ears as I run. Away from whoever is now running behind me. Away from the entrance. Away from what I am almost certain means an end to a plan I have barely embarked upon.
The footsteps behind me sound like they are getting closer. I dart around the large steel beam supports and follow the hallway as it curves to the left. I’m fast. The person behind me is faster. And chances are whoever it is knows this building far better than I do. I am at a disadvantage, but if my pursuer thinks I will give in easily, he or she is mistaken.
My bag bounces against my side as I run. The jostling throws me off balance, and I shift the strap over my head to better secure the bag at my side. I glance at the closed doors that I pass. Any one of them could give me a place to hide, but if the door I choose is locked, my pursuer will catch up.
I see a set of stairs to the right and race to them. My muscles burn as I climb. When I reach the first landing and head for the second flight of stairs, I brave a look. Dark hair. White jacket. Angry expression. Dark eyes that are focused on me.
There is something vaguely familiar about him. If I had time to stop and think, I might be able to place him, but at the moment I’ve learned what I need to know. The boy behind me doesn’t have a weapon and he’s halfway up the staircase to the landing. The first gives me the advantage I’ve been missing. The second tells me that if I want to capitalize on his lack of defense, I have to move even more quickly.
My breath comes hard and fast as I climb step after step while unfastening the closure to my bag. My fingers find the wooden butt of my gun as I hear the boy reach the landing below and begin to climb the next flight of stairs.
Good. Let him come. The higher he climbs the better.
When I reach the top, I don’t allow myself time to think. I just pull the gun out of my bag, turn, and fire.