The city felt ominously quiet as the air whipped by us. The Butchers & Rog Tower ahead had a seamless glass panel fa?ade. The smooth, mirrored array made it difficult to make out individual windows or floors. But, near the top, a single, tall window was out of place; the elongated reflection of the city was askew from the reflected panorama. That was our way in.
The floor-to-ceiling frame opened into what we were meant to believe was Rog’s office. The space was generous, filled with cushioned, old wooden furniture, not the printed stuff. Colorless photos glowed softly from the walls, shifting in an arty slideshow. The floor was covered with a black-and-indigo carpet, hand threaded with delicate gold details. It was meant to convey a sense of grandeur, but it just disgusted me. Cameras were inset in each of the room’s corners: small black bulbs, like insect eyes. With a quick tap at her Pad, Kel knocked them out before we entered. It was a formality, though—the Lawyers knew we were coming and this was our only way in.
Once inside, Kel did a wide sweep with her Pad for thermals and found nothing. The trap, whatever it was, wasn’t yet sprung.
The three of us looked like shadows in our gear, masked and anonymous. Henri’s posture was oddly stooped. I think he was afraid; I knew I was. The thought that we might fail was too horrible to consider, but even the idea that we might succeed was just as terrifying. What if I came face-to-face with Silas Rog? Would I even know it? I had never seen his face, only its blocky outline. I imagined him bloated and terrible, with the eyes of a viper.
Henri silently placed a selection of chocolates on a side table with none of his usual joy. He kept glancing at me, his eyes sad beneath his mask. Kel fiddled with the door leading out of the room and motioned for me to come to her side. The door clicked open. She gestured for me to go through, dragging her finger along a map on her Pad. Instantly, a trail of dots appeared in my eyes, leading to a door in the hallway, then to the stairs, and up, up, up beyond.
She wanted me to go on alone. This was it.
Could I do this? Did I have it in me? I tried not to think too much, because I was near the edge of losing it. Who was I to think I could change anything, let alone everything? My head still throbbed. My elbow still ached. I was tired, heartbroken and angry, but I had to focus. Kel handed me her Pad and pushed me along, like a fledgling driven from the nest.
I know the Pad was meant to help me, but taking possession of it terrified me. I’d never heard of her passing it on before. Not like this. My hands trembled holding it, but Kel’s dark eyes urged me forward. She still looked calm. You can do this, she seemed to say.
The door to the elevator rattled open. I barely had time to run out of sight.
“Remain where you are,” a voice called out. I could hear movement. I scrambled upward as quickly as I could, following the virtual dots aligned on the stairs before me. I whipped the Pad around and was able to see the thermal colors of three men rushing down toward Kel and Henri. Kel did a flying kick that slammed one man into the next, knocking both to the floor. Even on the Pad, Kel looked tall, lean and formidable. Henri took the third, smaller man, spun him around and slammed him into the wall.
“I am a Lawyer!” he cried out, incredulous and dazed, before Kel knocked him out cold.
I moved upward, more slowly than I should have, keeping an eye on my friends. Then I noticed something. Kel had inset a rectangle into the screen’s lower left corner. It displayed a live feed from her retinal overlays. She zapped both men on the floor quickly with something, and then glanced at the doughy little Lawyer. This was only the first wave, a pitiful trio meant to poke us and test our numbers and resolve. Four more security guards were bearing down on them, with two more polished Lawyers behind. Kel and Henri raced down the stairs. I picked up my pace and moved upward.
The stairs wound on endlessly. I had to be above the dome now. Two flights up, the dots Kel had set for me stopped at a door. Did Kel know what lay ahead, or was this just her best guess?
It didn’t matter. I had nowhere else to go.
In the live feed, I could see Kel and Henri had burst out onto a floor far below, one filled with wide, bubble-like cubicles for ParaLegals. Henri took hold of some large cabinet. I think it was filled with hard drives. He yanked it down to block the door. The heavy sound of it falling came through the speakers of the Pad.
“You will be held legally and financially responsible for all damages,” a voice informed them with cold, efficient menace.
Each tick of Kel’s eyes made the view whip around. It was difficult to watch. I felt powerless so far from them, and strangely exposed, even though they were the ones under attack.
Kel broke through an office door, and then through another adjoining it. Was she looking for an exit? Even from where I stood, it looked like she was going in circles.
I reached the end of the line. The Pad registered nothing above me. The blueprint did not extend this far, but the stairwell continued up toward a final door. Was this the roof? Rog’s real office? What lay beyond?
Glass shattered somewhere below. A small sound emanated from the Pad. I looked and saw plush furniture, guards. Kel knocked over a computer. It was clumsy, inelegant, very unlike her. She wasn’t trying to escape. She was leading the guards on a chase.
I set to work picking the lock on the door. It didn’t take much. Maybe Silas Rog hadn’t counted on anyone making it this far.
Or maybe this was the trap.
I couldn’t think about it. I had to move forward. I steeled myself and pushed the door open.
THE LIBRARY: $48.98
The top floor of Butchers & Rog was filled with shelves and shelves of books. They arced in rings, mazelike, to the room’s center. I had never seen or imagined anything like it, not even when my father told me about the Liberties.
If a book existed that could change our lives, it had to be here, didn’t it? I felt hope rise again in me. What if it really is possible? I wondered.
There were thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of books. They were all different shapes and sizes, fat and thin, bound in leather, or canvas, or cardboard or printed plastic sheets. Some bore titles on their spines in gilt letters or black pressed ink. Some said nothing at all. I had no clue which one might help us. What, exactly, was I looking for?
Kel let out a strangled yelp from the Pad. She was standing face-to-face with the golden brother, the one who had stopped me on the bridge. His lean, sharp face wore a ghastly, predatory smile as his fist whipped into view. I realized that he’d punched her. The feed went dark, but the sound kept on. Henri yelled something unintelligible. I looked deeper into the Pad, as if that might help me see what was happening. It was wasted effort; Kel’s eyes were closed.
I couldn’t help. I had to start searching.
“Whereas you have trespassed...” a voice in Kel’s feed came through the tiny speaker, sharp and icy “...and whereas you have caused the willful destruction of property, assaulted a Legal representative and his assigns, caused grievous harm, pain and suffering, and accorded yourselves with a gross dissimilitude from proper conduct to the Law...”