Perhaps I might try the path of least resistance.
I chew thoughtfully.
If the rebels are willing to listen, there’s no reason to withhold information about Klaus or the Ark, especially not if I intend to destroy it all. I’ll leverage intelligence in exchange for a jet and their promise to stay out of my way. I’ll convince them to give me back the vial.
And then I’ll go home to die.
The tremble in my arm has begun, slowly, to abate, though I’m beginning to worry I’m eating too quickly; I’ve already made my way through half the stack of waffles. The trouble is, I don’t have much time to refuel, but I have to be careful not to make myself sick.
I drink most of my water.
No one can know that my plan necessitates sacrificing my life in the process; I don’t want opinions or interference. So I’ll need some other way to convey to the rebels that it’s in their best interests for me to go back—and go back alone.
Thisis the trickiest part.
I’m worried they might insist on participating; and that would be a true disaster. The vial of earth is nothing on its own; it activates into a deadly weapon only when fully ingested by a human body. Klaus had intended for me to launch an attack against the civilians of The New Republic, but my plan is to drink it before launching myself into his cradle. Once submerged in the synthetic waters of his mind,I’ll have detonated the cataclysmic explosion necessary to kill Klaus—to dismantle the Ark.
But before I can do any of that, I’ll need to slip back into my old life on the island, which will require evading capital punishment.
I was supposed to die on the mainland. I was supposed to submit to Klaus’s directive. If I manage to return home I’ll be sentenced to death upon arrival for failing my mission. I’ve already decided that my only shot at a stay of execution will require appealing to Sebastian’s distorted sense of devotion.
Hehas far greater power.
I force another bite of waffle into my mouth, chewing slowly.
If I finally, enthusiastically consent to marrying Sebastian, he might petition to delay my sentencing. He was the one who managed to convince the council to uphold the terms of our betrothal despite the sanctions against me. He might be able to convince them to let me live. I don’t need forever. Just long enough to realize my plan.
The rebels, of course, will never understand this.
James won’t understand this.
No one from the mainland will be able to grasp the nuanced strategy and sacrifice necessary to dismantle the establishment from within. No one from the mainland will be able to anticipate the complexities of Ark surveillance. There is no question that I must return by myself. These loud, unrestrained people are woefully ill-equipped to brave the many hells of the Ark.
They’ll sabotage everything.
I take another bite of waffle. There’s a plate of eggs and sausages in front of me, too. I realize I need protein, but the sight of it makes me a little nauseous. I’ll have to slowly work my way up to eggs.
I drain the rest of my water glass.
I, too, need to prepare to reenter the terrifying surveillance state. I need to remember who I am and where I’m from. I’ve been on the mainland for too long; I’ve grown almost accustomed to the idea of privacy. I don’t search for cameras as often as I should. I don’t police my thoughts enough anymore. I’m beginning to think and feel things without fear of retribution. I need to reestablish my shields.
The only way to do that is to convince James to stay away from me.
I reach for a blueberry, rolling its small, firm shape between my fingers. When I push it between my lips I feel like I’ve done something illegal.
The tart, sweet taste explodes in my mouth.
“—mean Rosabelle?”
I look up, the sound of James’s voice shattering the bell jar around my head. The din of the diner comes rushing back, footfalls thudding and chairs pushing and cups slamming. The jangle of forks and knives, the clatter of plates stacking, bursts of laughter—
“Rosabelle?” someone says. “Wait, isn’t that the—”
A gasp of breath.
“Oh, shit. Thatisher.”
My fork is paused halfway to my mouth.
