Cinder tapped her foot. “How are you proposing we get into the palace? I can glamour all four of us as coronation guests if we wanted to sneak in—”
“Cool those engines, jet plane,” said Thorne. “You already have a job. While Cress and I are clearing the passages into the city, you, Iko, and Jacin are going to be stationed in these three sectors”—he indicated them on the holograph, three of the domes adjacent to Artemisia Central—“or at least in the tunnels underneath them, welcoming all those rebels you’ve stirred up and organizing what last-minute battle plan we can. In approximately nine hours, with any luck, this city is going to be under siege by a whole lot of angry Lunars. They’re going to need someone to lead them.”
“That’s you,” Iko clarified.
“But I thought this dome was cordoned off? How are we supposed to get out to those sectors if we’re stuck in here?”
“There are storage units not far from here,” said Jacin, “where some of the families keep recreational vehicles, including terrain speeders.”
“Terrain speeders?”
“Vehicles made for going outside the domes. They can adjust to the unmodified gravity and atmospheric conditions and handle difficult terrain. Dunes. Craters. Rich people use them for sport. They’re not as fast as ships, but we can bypass the shuttles and cut a direct route to the nearest sectors, anywhere that has external dock access. Levana won’t care about a couple nobles out for a joyride.”
“We’re splitting up,” said Cinder.
Iko wrapped an arm around Cinder’s waist. “Only temporarily.”
“It’s our best hope for coordinating an attack,” said Thorne, “and getting as many people in front of that palace as possible, which is the whole point, isn’t it? Strength in numbers?”
Cinder’s heart was galloping again, but she managed a nod. She was studying the holograph again when an anomaly caught her eye. “What’s wrong with that sector?” she asked, pointing to one that was tinged red on the map.
Cress spun the holograph and brought the sector into focus. “LW-12, lumber and wood manufacturing. Quarantined?”
“Like a disease quarantine?” Cinder asked.
“That’s all we need,” Thorne muttered.
But Jacin was shaking his head. “It’s been a long time since we had an outbreak of any sort of disease on Luna. There aren’t many environmental influences that we can’t control.” He crossed his arms. “We do have measures in place in case something happens, though. With the domes confined like they are, it wouldn’t take much to take down a whole community if a disease was bad enough.”
“Could it be letumosis?” Iko asked, a tinge of fear vibrating in her voice.
“That’s an Earthen disease,” said Jacin. “We’ve never had any cases here.”
“It’s not just an Earthen disease,” said Cinder. “Not anymore. Dr. Erland discovered a mutated strain in Africa, remember? Lunars may not be immune anymore, and…” She gulped. “And a whole lot of Earthens just arrived on Luna. Anyone could be a carrier. One of the diplomats, or even one of us. We might not even know it.”
Jacin gestured to the holograph. “Have any of you gone into a lumber sector lately?”
Cinder pressed her lips.
“That’s what I thought. I doubt any of your political friends have, either. It’s probably a coincidence.”
“Actually,” said Cress, pulling her wide-eyed gaze away from her portscreen, “one of us has been there.” She input a new command, transferring the feed she was watching up to the holograph.
It was a collection of the queen’s surveillance videos, all labeled LW-12. They were dark and grainy, but as Cinder’s eyes adjusted she could see rows of trees in the outside shots and wood-paneled walls on the interiors. She focused on one of the more crowded feeds, which appeared to be inside a medical building, although it was nothing like the sleek, shiny laboratories of New Beijing.
There were so many people, taking up what few beds there were while others curled against walls or collapsed in corners.
Stepping closer to the image, Jacin enlarged one of the feeds, zooming in on a rash of blue-and-red rings across one patient’s throat, then to the bloodstained pillow beneath another patient’s head.
“It does look like letumosis,” Cinder said, gut spasming with instinctive fear.
“Are those what I think they are?” asked Iko, pointing.
“Lunar soldiers,” Cress confirmed, enlarging one of the outside feeds that showed dozens of mutant men standing among the citizens. Many seemed caught up in a fervent conversation. Cinder had never seen them when they weren’t in attack mode, and if it wasn’t for their deformed faces, they would have looked just like, well, really big, scary men.