“Are you ready?” Raffe whispers.
I swallow hard and after one more moment force myself to let go of Tomas’s hand. “Keep your radio close. Leave a message if you’re in trouble or if you’ve finished one of the tasks.”
Tomas and Stacia nod and point their bikes to the north. I watch them ride down the block as I press the Call button on the Communicator to tell Zeen we are starting our part. When the two of them ride to the left and disappear from view, I turn my bike and head in the opposite direction, trying not to think about what might happen to Tomas.
Raffe leads the way. As the shadows lengthen, we zigzag around potholes, turn west, and keep riding. I catch sight of the white markings on a skimmer door in the distance. The vehicle belongs to a Safety official. But it never slows or turns in our direction. Whatever distraction Will has provided is enough to keep the skimmer pointed toward the west.
Raffe continues the fast pace. We spot another Safety skimmer in the distance and slow down. It, too, passes without incident. I wonder if Zeen is still at the rebel base and whether Tomas and Stacia have avoided the patrols as Raffe turns down the next street. This one is filled with large houses painted pale shades of blue or gray with white trim that shines bright even in the dimming light. Each structure sits on a plot of grass that is a healthy shade of green. The trees here are young but grow straight and true. Down the block kids race around a lawn, playing tag. Someone yells for them to stay close to the house.
A door opens to one of the blue houses. Raffe waves at the elderly woman who steps out the front door onto the porch and then looks at me as the lady waves back. “That’s Mrs. Haglund. She’s not wearing her glasses, so most likely she hasn’t the slightest idea who I am. Even if she does, she’s hard of hearing. I doubt she has a clue what’s going on in Tosu or that Safety officials are looking for us. My parents’ house is this way.”
We turn down another block. The houses here are even larger than the ones we just passed and are more widely spaced, so that each one has an expanse of grass and trees on every side. Raffe stops as we reach the third house. He gets off his bike and starts wheeling it up a wide walkway that runs alongside the blue structure made distinctive by the large white pillars that frame the front door. He walks with his shoulders straight. His gait is unhurried. It’s as if he belongs here. Which I suppose he does. I try to mimic his behavior as we lean our bikes up against the rear wall of the house.
“My father is typically in his office at this time of night.”
“What about your mother?” I ask.
“Once we all graduated, my father decided that they no longer needed to use power after the designated hours the rest of the city follows. So she goes to a friend’s house after dinner and doesn’t come home until well after nine. They’re the only two who live here. We should have time to do what needs to be done.”
Raffe glances at his watch. Seven-twenty. Ten minutes until the next explosion is set to go off. I check the pulse radio. No messages. Are Tomas and Stacia standing at the back door of Professor Chen’s house right now? Is Tomas turning the handle and stepping inside a kitchen as we do? Raffe closes the door behind me, reaches into his bag, and pulls out his gun. I engage the recorder and hand it to him. Nodding, he slides it into his pocket and then waits until I clutch my own gun before moving forward. I follow. Through the kitchen into a dark hallway that opens into a large living area.
Every step we take echoes in my head. I listen for sounds that Raffe’s father is home, but aside from our breathing and my pounding heart, I hear nothing. Raffe leads me down another darkened hall. He doesn’t turn on the flashlight as he moves confidently toward a closed door, beneath which a sliver of light glows. I hear papers rustling and ignore the way my muscles tense as I think through the strategy Raffe and I discussed. When we reach the door, Raffe touches my arm. I feel around the wall for the door he said was just outside his father’s office.
There. I find the handle, turn it, and slip inside a small bathroom. I leave the door open so I am ready to act if necessary, and wait for Raffe to take the next step. My breathing comes fast as I hear a handle shift, a door creak open, and Raffe say, “Hi, Dad.”
“Raffe.” In the deep voice I hear surprise and relief. “Verna said . . . well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ll contact her and let her know that you’re here and not off somewhere causing trouble with those colony students.”
“What kind of trouble?” Raffe asks.