“What happened?” I whispered. The plan was already working, but I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t remember grabbing Gertrude’s arm. She tried to yank it away, and I held on fiercely, searching her face for answers.
A scuffle broke out across the promenade. Gertrude and I turned toward the angry shouting and watched a man in plain clothes throw punches at someone in the crowd, screaming at them to stay back and make way for the House. Private guards, I realized with horror. Not Transistors but hired muscle. Nikola had planned to escape before the entire delegation arrived, but she hadn’t counted on the House planting guards in the crowd long before their arrival.
With a painfully familiar little growl, Gertrude shoved me onto the dirt at the feet of the other onlookers. “Get out of here,” she spat, before gathering the children and encouraging them to keep walking. A tutting woman helped me stand, but all I could focus on was Gertrude’s heel ripping one of the pamphlets as she walked away.
What could she possibly have done to deserve being stripped of her rank as a Conductor?
I forced myself to look away and take trembling steps to the waste bin where Columbia was scooping up handfuls of pamphlets and handing them out. She’d replaced her blue scarf with a green ribbon tied in a bow.
“Pass them along,” she shouted. “Spread the word. Liberation from the House!”
“The House stationed guards in the crowd. Shouldn’t we warn Nikola and Julian?” I asked her, my hands shaking as I distributed pamphlets to anyone who would grab them.
“Fortify yourself,” Columbia said to me. “It’s too late to stop now.” Her gaze shifted to the ongoing procession that still consisted of the youngest students and House servants herding them like little lambs. “Was that a friend of yours?”
I could hardly breathe. “Yes.” Looking up at the sky for a moment, I gathered all the control I could. There was no time to sort out why Gertrude had fallen from the House’s grace. There was no time to make my way to the stage to warn Nikola and Julian of the guards. I shouted to the crowd: “The House is poisoning you! Open your eyes!”
An obnoxiously loud horn sounded, and everyone turned toward it. On the stage in the roundabout, Nikola waved her top hat and made a gesture encouraging the crowd to quiet down. Little by little, people hushed as if she’d cast a spell on them.
“That’s my girl,” Columbia whispered, clasping my shoulder. “Here we go.”
Quietly, we continued handing out the pamphlets that explained the cause of the wasting and the promise of power that belonged to everyone.
Nikola’s voice rang out so clearly, it sounded as if would carry all the way to the clouds above. “What you see before you,” she began, “is the invention that will change the course of Industry!”
On the steps of the Hall of Radiance, the protestors quieted, drawn to Nikola’s voice. I could see them whispering to one another as they realized she was not with the House, but was a resistor like them.
Trying to make my way to the edge of the stage, I watched the protestors move closer. They were trailed by more of the plainclothes guards who outnumbered the Sterling City police officers attempting to make it through the fray on horseback with little success. Transistors at the far end of the House’s procession surged forward, but the ropes were collapsing as people angled for a better view, blocking their approach. I hoped the children would be safe from the crowd verging on stampeding toward the stage. I hoped Gertrude could protect them.
I could hardly hear Nikola’s speech over the stormy whoosh of my heartbeat. Pushing closer, I handed papers out, not seeing who took them. Not seeing anything but the two figures on the stage. With a showy flourish, Nikola ripped the silk cover from the sculpture of light bulbs. The crowd responded with a mix of cheers and confused murmurs.
“They’re Conductors!” someone shouted. “It’s more House lies.”
I’d gotten close enough to see Julian’s expression. His gaze went inward the way it did when he was trying to solve a problem. Nikola glanced at him and seemed to notice that as well. Impatiently, she urged him to begin turning the crank that would power the machine with electricity.
Abruptly, Julian searched the mass of onlookers. “I need a volunteer!” he shouted. “A child! Not of Industry but of the stars that watch us all.”
I gasped, understanding what he was doing. We hadn’t considered that the crowd might believe our demonstration was only another spectacle of the House of Industry’s power. But a child selected at random would quiet those doubts. Goose bumps rose along my arms.
A little girl climbed onto the stage, boosted by two older children with matching auburn hair. She looked back at them nervously, and they called out encouragements, grinning as if this were all a silly game. She wore a bright yellow pinafore and a bonnet that shielded her eyes from the sun climbing over the skyline.
Crouching and smiling gently, Julian took her hand and leaned in to ask her something. She answered, pressing her lips to his ear. He gave her a nod and stood, holding her hand. “People of Sterling City, meet Felicity. She’s boldly volunteered to show you that anyone—even a seven-year-old—can call forth electricity.”
He patiently showed her where to put her hands on the crank. She looked up at him, uncertain, and he said something that made her smile. Her little shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and then she sank all her weight to turn the crank.
“Again!” Julian called out. “You’ve nearly got it.”
On the next turn of the crank, the conduction coil began to glow. It was slower going than if Julian had handled it himself, but it was working. And it was undeniable that no one was touching the machine but Felicity. Startled shouts sounded all around me as the cable sparked. Nikola was explaining what they were seeing, but when the lights flickered like flames behind her, a roar of excitement drowned out her voice. All around me, people were opening the pamphlets, reading to one another, connecting the spectacle on the stage to the promise that electricity would belong to everyone.
On the steps of the Hall of Radiance, resistors formed a united line, holding signs and shouting with renewed vigor, as if Nikola’s machine had powered them as much as it had powered the bulbs. The House’s procession had been completely overtaken. Only the professors’ plumed hats could be made out.
Just as I thought nothing could ever subdue the jubilant crowd, a gunshot rang out like a crack of thunder. Another followed in quick succession, and screaming with panic, onlookers started to scatter orcrouch. In an instant, I was swept up into chaos. It felt like turbulent wind pushing me from side to side. I knew if I stumbled and fell, I’d be trampled to death.
Up on the steps of the Hall of Radiance, the protestors were running for cover. More shots sounded, and I saw why. The House’s hired guards were shooting at them. Cutting them down with no hesitance, no mercy. A handful of Transistors had managed to make it through the crowd, and they joined the guards with deadly precision, needing nothing more than a touch to end a life.
“No!” I screamed.
A handful of Sterling City police officers were doing nothing but watching warily as the guards and Transistors worked their way through the fray, leaving lifeless bodies in their wake. I saw a bleeding woman throw herself at one of the officers, her face twisted with anguish. He pushed her away.
