Graduation Day

Stepping closer, I inspect the explosives and other containers on the shelves.

My insides curl as I carefully add three canisters to my cache. Finally I turn and look at the technological devices. My fingers itch to take them all, since these are the tools I understand best. But my bag is almost full. So I take three tracking devices that are tuned to the same frequency as the monitor in my bag. I am not sure if Raffe will be able to meet Tomas and me or if I will come into contact with Zeen. But if I see them and we are all forced to separate during the hours and days ahead, these devices will give me a way to find them. After one last look around, I lift the strap of my bag onto my shoulder and walk out of the room, hoping I have not left behind anything I need.

Aside from the sound of my boots against the gray tile, everything is quiet as I head for the stairs. On the third-floor landing, I pause when the murmur of voices reaches me. I’m tempted to walk down the hall to see if anyone there knows whether the president really did postpone her Debate Chamber proposal and if the search for Michal continues. But as much as that information would help me understand what is happening with the president, I cannot afford the time or the risk of being seen by too many people. I continue down the stairs.

I am crossing the lobby when I see the front doors open. Several officials in ceremonial purple and red walk in. The two Safety officials near the front desk stand as one last person enters.

President Collindar.

There is nowhere to hide.

Stepping to the side, I tilt my head down in what I hope looks like a respectful gesture. My hair fans out on either side of my face, giving me some cover, but when the president looks my way, I see her eyebrows rise. I hold my breath. Has she heard about Enzo? Will she decide that my being on the run makes me more of a liability than an ally?

“Official Dresden.” Though the president is addressing one of the Safety officials, she takes a step toward me. “Can I see the list of all personnel who have checked in tonight?”

The official takes the clipboard off the desk and hands it to her. She looks down at the list and then back at me. “It’s nice to see that so many of our staff are dedicated enough to overcome the concern Official Gallen’s disappearance has caused. The increased number of Safety officials that I have just ordered to participate in the evening patrols should also ease fears. Don’t you think?”

When the Safety official agrees, President Collindar hands the clipboard back to him. “I’m hopeful this upheaval will be smoothed over and things will return to normal. We need everyone from the Debate Chamber to focus clearly on our proposal.” With an almost imperceptible nod in my direction, the president turns and heads down the hall. “Fredrik, what can we do to convince Nigel’s department to vote with us? I’ve heard they are wavering and might be willing to come to our side if given proper incentive.” Her officials trail after her, debating ideas, and I head for the door.

As I step out of the building, a black skimmer passes by. The white seal on the door marks it as a Safety and Security vehicle. One of the extra patrols President Collindar just warned me about. The fact that she chose to give me such a warning speaks volumes. Some of the Safety officials who roam the streets are doing so to reassure the Tosu population. But there must be others who are searching for me.

I duck back into the entryway alcove and stay there until the skimmer has disappeared down the street. Then I head for my bicycle. Coasting, I approach the roadway that leads to the building where Tomas is waiting and only turn when I see no one is around.

I click on my flashlight when I walk into the building, shine it down the hallway, and whisper Tomas’s name. He doesn’t appear. My heart stills. I whisper again. Panic resonates in my voice. Finally I see someone step out of a doorway on the right, far down the corridor. Tomas.

“Sorry,” he says, walking through the shadows toward me. “I decided to see if there was anything on this floor we could use. Did you find what you needed?”

“I saw the president. She warned me additional Safety officials have been added to the evening patrols. We have to be careful when we go to the next location. Once we get there, we should be safe.”

“Where are we going?” Tomas’s hand finds mine in the dark.

“Someplace no patrols would go.”

Tomas exits first. He waits several moments before motioning for me to follow. Then we climb onto our bikes and ride. Twice we stop and crouch behind bushes or duck around the edges of buildings to wait for a skimmer to pass us by.

The buildings we pass grow smaller. Tomas asks if I am sure we are going the correct way. I know he is concerned that we have veered to the north. The same direction as the University. I check the Transit Communicator and assure him that we are on course.

When my front wheel hits several holes in the pavement, I know I have found the street I have been searching for. In the dim moonlight, I study the dilapidated, graffiti-laden houses on either side of the roadway to find the one I entered two days ago.

“That one,” I say, pointing to the small one-story structure. After taking a closer look, I pick up my bike and walk carefully across the grass to the back of the house. Tomas does the same.

Tomas leans his bicycle against the wall and then walks to the door and eases it open a crack. Just enough for us to squeeze ourselves and our bicycles through.

We search the house as I did the first time I was here. Aside from several puddles of water in the bedrooms where the ceiling leaks, the place looks the same. Tomas turns the faucet on in the bathroom to check if it works. The water that runs into the sink is tinged with orange. I find the pile of clothing in the same place I left it, and when I pry up the floorboards I see the folder I hid there.