Mabel threaded through the crowds at the exhibition, her heart beating wildly. Jake Marlowe would take the stage at the Grand Pavilion at one o’clock. It was now twelve forty-five. She had to move fast. She tried to remember what she’d seen when Arthur had shown them the blueprints. The Hall of Wonders was in the center of the fairgrounds. Inside was a custodians’ room. That was where Arthur was supposed to go to pick up the rifle Gloria would bring hidden inside a baby carriage. Aron would help put the rifle together. Luis would toss a tear gas grenade to provide cover for Arthur’s escape. Mabel’s job had been to buy the bullets and provide an alibi, if it came to that. Her stomach hurt anew at the thought of what she’d done. Almost done—there was still time.
It was Gloria she spied first, standing off to the side in the Hall of Wonders with the baby carriage, just another spectator. Mabel marched up to Gloria and grabbed her shoulder.
Gloria’s smile was a second too late. Her eyes showed panic. “Golly, Mabel! This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
“I won’t let you assassinate Marlowe,” Mabel said.
“Keep your voice down,” Gloria hissed. “Do you want to draw the attention of every cop in this place?”
“Maybe I do.”
Gloria narrowed her eyes. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. And anyway, you’re too late. The plan’s in motion.”
“I’ll go straight to Mr. Marlowe. I won’t let Arthur shoot him.”
“Shoot him?” Gloria let out a small laugh. “Still the Girl Scout. Do you think we’re just taking out Marlowe?”
“Aren’t you?”
“He’ll be onstage with Mr. Rockefeller and the mayor. We can take them all out. We’ll send a message they can’t ignore—that they don’t own us. This is a new American revolution!”
Gloria’s words fought to make sense inside Mabel’s brain. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need a gun when you can use a bomb.”
Mabel felt dizzy and hot. “But… the Grand Pavilion will be full of people,” Mabel said, and her voice sounded like it belonged to someone in another room. “Innocent people.”
“No one’s innocent,” Gloria said.
“I have to talk to Arthur.”
“It was Arthur’s idea, you little fool!”
“I won’t let you do this.”
Mabel turned to go. Gloria pulled her close. Mabel felt the gun in her side.
“Move,” Gloria said. “Now.”
Gloria forced Mabel into the custodians’ room. Aron and Luis were there. Seeing Mabel, they jumped up from their seats.
“What’s she doing here?” Aron asked.
“She came to stop us.”
“Please. Please don’t do this,” Mabel pleaded.
Aron crossed his arms. He seemed nervous. “No one listens to reason. They only pay attention to force. It’s the only way.”
“There’s no such thing as the only way. You’re not advocating for reform. You’re promoting nihilism. There are children out there!” Mabel pleaded.
“They kill children all the time. How many children did they kill in the tents? How many do they let die in poverty every day? Whose children matter?” Aron said.
“Listen to yourselves!” Mabel shouted. “Do you want to be known as murderers?”
“Quiet!” Gloria said. “When Marlowe takes the stage, the bomb will go off. Keep talking and we’ll shoot you here and now.”
Mabel had watched her mother give speeches and wished that she could be like her—beautiful and charismatic, a force of nature. But she wasn’t her mother. She was only herself. Her one weapon was her fierce belief that ordinary people could come together and make a better world. “Please,” she said, choking on the word through tears. “I’m only asking you to listen to me for one minute. If you do this, you’re saying that we don’t believe in our own people! That we have no faith they’ll do what’s right.”
“Maybe the people are terrible,” Gloria said.
“Not all of them. Not even most of them. I won’t believe that. I won’t.” Mabel took a shuddering breath and pressed a steadying hand to her stomach. “What you’re doing isn’t change. Not the kind that matters. It’s anarchy. It’s terror. I don’t know everything, but I know that this—bombs and guns and threats—won’t make for a better world. Just a more frightened and angry one.”
Mabel looked at all of their faces. They were her friends. They might shoot her for an idea.
“Arthur’s under the stage,” Luis said.
Aron grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”
Luis shook off Aron’s hand and opened the door. “Go now. While you still can.”
“Now, wait just a minute!” Gloria gripped Mabel’s sleeve.
In a flash, Mabel slipped free, leaving Gloria holding her empty coat.
Mabel ran quickly through the fairgrounds, weaving her way through the crowds eating popcorn and hot dogs, past the people who’d stopped to admire the architectural splendor of a fountain spraying into the clean, crisp air. They had no idea of the danger they were in. It was up to Mabel to save them.
It was up to her.
The weight of the realization paralyzed Mabel for a moment. She leaned against the side of a booth housing a prototype of a giant robot that thrilled its human audience by assembling a radio piece by piece. “That’s right, folks—the future will be fully automated! Robots doing human work!” the inventor crowed.
The robot answered in its mechanical voice, “I have seen the future.”
What should she do? Should she go to the police? Would they even believe her? The city had a lot invested in the exhibition going well. No one would want to cause a panic over the wild accusations of some girl, a socialist, no less. They’d think she was only trying to cause trouble, to gain attention.
Still. She had to try. Mabel stood in the middle of the footpath, ignoring the grumbling from the irritated people navigating around her as she whirled around, eyes searching for a blue uniform. She spotted two cops by the Wonders of Electricity pavilion and set off at a clip, then slowed. What if the police did believe her? Then she’d be turning in her friends. And Arthur. She’d betray Arthur. Every member of the Secret Six would go to prison, Mabel included. She imagined her parents’ bereaved faces. How horrified and hurt they’d be. Aron and Luis could be deported. And Arthur could be sentenced to death. A vision of Arthur being strapped into the electric chair brought Mabel to a stop just a few feet shy of the two police officers.
One of them gave her a funny look. “You all right, Miss?”
“Yes,” Mabel said, breathing heavily. “I… I just got turned around is all.”
“Easy to do. It’s a big place! What are you looking for?”
“The Grand Pavilion.” Her voice was so small.
The officer pointed behind her. “Boy, you did get turned around. It’s that way, Miss. But you’d better hurry. I hear Miss Snow is about to start.”