Bravado. Lena was running out of time and she knew it.

  "Alan, ETA," Si said quietly, his lowered volume due to the increased strain he and I both felt.

  "Ten minutes."

  Too long.

  "Lena," I said over the mic. "Ask him about his role at the Palace during the Uprising."

  The information on the screen was vague, but something about it seemed off.

  "Cardinal Jenkings," Lena said, completely in her Elite zone now. "Where did you stand during the Uprising?"

  I wouldn't have phrased it like that, but maybe Lena knew something I didn't. For now, I had to trust her gut.

  She was the one in the firing line, after all.

  "The Uprising?" he said softly. The lethal tone making the hairs on my arms rise up.

  "Yes," she said, voice strong and steady. I could imagine her chin lifting, but inside she'd be quaking.

  A long stretch of silence followed and then he finally spoke.

  "I was guarding the Chief Overseer."

  Chapter 10

  And My Safe And Perfect World Shattered

  Lena

  His words barely registered before I was across the room, my knife pressed into his throat, my hand fisted in his hair, holding his head back, exposing more flesh for me to slice. I'd moved so quickly, and obviously not telegraphed my intentions, because I managed to get blade to skin without resistance.

  In the next instant, though, he'd blocked my knife hand with an upward and outward slash of his forearm, and moved his head towards mine in order to knock his forehead on my nose. I spun out of the way before he connected with delicate cartilage, making his head bounce off my shoulder instead.

  I'm not sure who it would have hurt more.

  And then a gun was levelled at my face.

  I stayed motionless in my crouch staring down the barrel towards the unemotional eyes of a former Personal Guard to the Chief Overseer. The highest trained of any Cardinal. I hadn't stood a chance.

  But I'd known. I'd just known. The way he kept flicking sidelong glances at me as we traipsed through the buildings, as though looking for something familiar in my face. Even his challenge regarding my affianced state to Wang Chao; it had almost seemed like a test. He'd been there.

  Oh dear Lord, he'd been there.

  He'd been guarding the Chief Overseer when Mason Waters supposedly killed my father.

  My lips felt dry, my throat just as devoid of moisture. My heart ached with every single thumping beat inside my chest. I looked into the eyes of a man who had been there and wondered just what he had seen.

  "I could have sliced your throat," I pointed out, my voice scratchy but steady.

  "But you didn't."

  "No, I didn't." We stared at each other for several seconds and then I slowly stood to my full height.

  I wanted answers. I couldn't threaten them out of him. I had to try a more diplomatic tack.

  I sheathed my knife in a show of good faith and waited for Jenkings to holster his gun. It took several more strained seconds for him to comply. Afterwards we eyed each other as though facing down our worst enemy. And in a way, right then, he was mine.

  "Did you protect the Chief Overseer to the end?" I asked

  "It was my job." But I saw the knowledge in his eyes. There briefly, then hidden behind an implacable mask.

  Ask it. Ask the question.

  I am not a coward. But right then fear almost won out.

  What had he seen?

  "It is said," I whispered, "that he was alone at the end. The last man standing."

  Silence. Just an emotionless face staring out of a hard body. As hard as I thought the man himself might be.

  "It is said," I added, in a stronger voice, anger starting to resurface, "that he fired the shot that killed Mason Waters; the leader of the rebellion."

  Silence.

  I wondered if Trent was listening. I wondered what he was thinking right now, being reminded of his own father, as I was of mine.

  "It is said," I forcefully went on, "that General Chew-wen had no Cardinal guards with him."

  A brief show of emotion flashed in Jenkings' eyes, and then was gone.

  Only silence followed in its wake.

  There was nothing else for me to say. Except the one thing that meant everything to me.

  "It is said" - surprisingly my voice held strong, despite the turmoil erupting on the inside - "that Overseer Carstairs died defending the Chief Overseer."

  Marshal Jenkings held my gaze; there was no softening there. But the connection between us in that moment seemed poignant, as though he understood exactly what it took to say those words aloud. To open myself up to such a degree in front of a Palace Guard. A Cardinal hand picked to protect the highest ranking person in our nation.

  "You don't believe that," he finally replied. It wasn't a question.

  I shook my head.

  "Tell me," I softly asked. "Please," I added in a very non-Elite manner.

  Silence.

  Frustration, and a deep seated anger birthed ten years ago in the midst of desperate heartache, exploded inside me. It had been a long time since I'd been rendered immobile with such rage. I closed my eyes, my right hand flexing above my sheathed knife; the desire to hurl it at this implacable witness to my father's demise was too tempting by far.

  I made an infuriated sound and then spun away from him, walking as far as the room allowed. I stopped by a boarded up window, the soft light of dawn visible through a gap.

  "You're no longer a Cardinal," I said, not caring if he heard my softly spoken words or not. "General Chew-wen is dead. His son has followed him into hell. Why stay mute?"

  I heard his quiet footfalls behind me and forced myself to face the threat head on. My hand rested on my knife, still in its sheath, the message clear. He halted in his tracks.

  "Chew-wen Wang Chao is not dead," he argued, his eyes darting down to my knife and then back up searching my face for the subterfuge.

  "I watched him get struck down by multiple laser beams. Then kicked to ensure he wasn't getting back up again. He didn't."

  "Did you kill him?"

  The accusation was obvious. Also the threat of retribution. Marshal Jenkings was still the Chief Overseer's man.

  "Why did you run?" I asked, instead of answering that.

  "That is irrelevant."

  "I don't think so, Cardinal." I stressed his former title. "The Palace was under attack. General Chew-wen assassinated. And you just up and ran leaving his son and heir to deal with the fallout."

  I think I knew why he did it. I think it had to do with Shiloh. And if it did, then we had something in common. Maybe something we could work together towards.

  If he trusted me, even in just a small capacity, then maybe he'd disclose what happened that day when my father died.

  "The drones," he offered, after a brief moment when I thought he'd stay silent. I was beginning to think silence was his first line of defence. But I was breaking through it. "They didn't obey commands. It seemed prudent to fallback and reassess."

  I held his gaze, looking for the guilt, the shame of his actions. He had deserted, no matter what spin he placed on it.

  "It's been a month since the ball," I pointed out. My eyes purposely trailing over his Citizen attire. "And yet you have not returned."

  "I am still investigating their change in behaviour." His answer was so quick in coming I thought perhaps I might have managed to ruffle his feathers after all.

  Best to continue to push my luck. This was the most he'd spoken since I'd met him.

  "And what have you found out, Cardinal?"

  "Stop calling me that."

  "But you intend to return, do you not? After you have ascertained what defect has occurred in the drones."

  Silence.

  I smiled. "All right, Citizen." He frowned. "What have you found out?"

  His eyes narrowed on me. Suspicion clear on his face.

  "I propose an exchange of information," I offered.

  Two bushy eyebrows rose, but nothing was said.

  "I know what is wrong with the drones." This time a reaction. Surprise mixed with ever present doubt. "You know what happened the night Overseer Carstairs died."

  He crossed his arms over his chest, making the muscles bulge. I think the effect was meant to be menacing. I rubbed my hand over the hilt of my knife while it sat in its sheath.

  My menacing was probably no match for his.

  "What do you know?" he demanded.

  I let a little huff of laughter out.

  "First of all, what do you intend to do with the information?"

  "That is Cardinal business."

  "But you insist you are no longer a Cardinal."

  "Irrelevant." I guess, once a Cardinal, always a Cardinal. Or something to that effect. Even if you couldn't lay claim to the title publicly anymore.

  "There is no Chief Overseer, Jenkings. There are no Palace Cardinal Guards."

  "You lie."

  "Have you seen him?"

  "He'll be in shut-down. Standard procedure."

  "He is dead," I said with finality.

  Jenkings only sneered.

  His faith in Wang Chao's continued existence was almost enough to make me question what I'd seen that night. But Tan and three of his men had fired high powered laser guns at his chest multiple times until the Chief Overseer's body had started to smoke. I'd then watched him check for a pulse, determining that the man was indeed dead.

  There should have been no question about his death, but why would Shiloh keep his assassination a secret? Why would the Overseers outright lie about his passing?

  Unless the vacuum left would create too much turmoil. One look at Jenkings and it was obvious what blind faith did to a man.

  I wouldn't be able to convince him. But we still had a potential exchange of information to see about.

  "Let's agree to disagree on that point," I offered smoothly. "But there is still the matter of what I know. And, of course, what you know."

  "You first."

  I almost rolled my eyes. But someone had to go first. What did I have to lose?

  "Shiloh."

  "What about her?" he demanded.

  "Shiloh has control of the drones."

  He frowned, contemplating that. "Impossible."

  "They've changed. You said so yourself. Not obeying Cardinal command. Noticed the red eyes? The buzz that starts up on the ones who disobey? Shiloh's voice out of their speakers, not the drone's or a Cardinal's?"

  He slowly nodded.

  "Shiloh has become self-aware."

  "Impossible," he whispered.

  I shrugged my shoulders. Received a scowl for that non-model behaviour. And said, "What did you see that night?"

  He stared at me out of cold blue eyes and for a moment I was sure I'd given away hard fought for knowledge for nothing. It had always been a gamble. But ten years of mourning my father's sacrifice saving General Chew-wen - a man I was sure didn't deserve it - had made me reckless.

  In so many ways.

  "You're an Elite," Jenkings started. "You are destined to stand beside the Chief Overseer. It is your role."

  I raised an incredulous eyebrow.

  "A role I decline to take."

  "You have no choice. For the better of the people. For the future of Wánměi."

  "I'm not so inclined to follow blindly anymore."

  His look said it all. He thought I was mad.

  "What happened that night?" I pressed. The morning glow outside the gap in the window boards had lightened. It was time to get on with this.

  "I don't understand you," he muttered, frustration making him crack that hardened shell long enough to run a hand through his hair.

  Disappointment crushed me. It was useless. He wouldn't talk. He was a prisoner to the propaganda as much as the next man. Brainwashed to believe the world we lived in was perfect.

  "There's a city called Lunnon," I said, not sure why I was bothering. I'd already accepted this was a dead end. "It has a Pherres like ours. And a river. And row upon row of identical tall brick houses. Domed churches. And so many people."

  He stared at me, uncomprehendingly.

  "Have you never wondered where we come from?" I asked. "Why we speak four different languages in this one small parcel of land? We can't have all started here at once. We're too diverse. We've always prided ourselves on our multiculturalism, but have we ever asked ourselves, where those cultures began?"

  He blinked, but otherwise remained silent. I was getting used to it.

  So I pushed on.

  "I, for one, would like to see what's beyond our walls." The shut-down of all reaction on his face was enough to tell me I'd spoken out of line. "I think we should have the choice. I think we have learned from our mistakes, have paid enough for the privilege of that lesson. I think it's time to let Wánměi fly."

  "You speak of treason. Sedition," he added. "An Elite who should know better."

  "What do you think we export, Jenkings?" I asked, the change in tack making him inhale deeply; his barrel chest rising on the deep intake of breath.

  "That is for the Overseers to know."

  "We should not desire for more than we have. Wánměi provides all that we need," I offered, albeit a little sarcastically.

  "Exactly." He ignored the sarcasm.

  "And what if I said we're exporting drones?"

  "Then we are profiting from our technological superiority."

  "And what if I said we're exporting people?"

  "That's..."

  "The wiped Citizens from on-board the container ship. The mother and her daughter you saw me protect from that drone. Are they figments of my imagination as well?"

  "No, but..."

  "Eight containers full of families who had been wiped. Scratched on the walls the names of the hundreds who have gone before them. Not good enough for our perfect world, just cattle to be traded for trinkets and diamonds and fast cars."

  He slowly shook his head; denial but not outright.

  "I drive a luxury roadster," I said into the silence. "At least, I used to. How many Citizens of Wánměi had to be exported for me to afford that car?"

  His eyes met mine. Doubt still there, but this time not for my words, but my actions.

  "I lived the life of luxury. I wanted for nothing, so long as I played my part. And you played yours, Cardinal. One step below, just out of reach of the fast cars and diamonds. But miles above those whose lives paid for it all. What does that make us?"

  I sucked in a breath of much needed air.

  "What does that make Wánměi?"

  Silence, but it was weighted. So very weighted in guilt and fear and uncertainty and shame. His and mine.

  "I'm trying to make up for it," I whispered. "I'm trying to atone for my sins."

  We stared at each other, and I thought I might just have made it through his hard shell to the inside. I might just have cracked his emotionless façade. I might just have said enough for him to tell me what had happened that night.

  But it was too late.

  Because before he could atone for his sins, the door at the end of the abandoned factory crashed open, and a red laser beam shot through the air and blasted a hole in his chest.

  I screamed, even as I threw myself sideways, my knife in my hand, all air pushed from my lungs. My heartbeat stuttered, as my eyes caught and held Marshal Jenkings'. He was still alive, but for how long? Pain etched deep grooves across his face, his gaze already dulling.

  "Lena?" Tan's voice sounded out. "Where are you?"

  And the world dimmed even further.

  I bounded to my feet, my eyes scanning the far end of the factory and finding Alan, Tan and several of Tan's men.

  "You shot him!" I shouted.

  "He was about to hand you over to the Overseers."

  "Was it you?" I demanded Alan, taking a step out from behind the work table I'd chosen for cover, my knife somehow still in my grip ready to use.

  "Easy, Elite. I'm not the trigger happy Citizen here," came Alan's disgruntled reply, flicking condemning eyes towards Tan.

  I turned to look at my closest friend, my brother in all but blood.

  "Why?"

  "I told you," he answered coolly. "He would never have seen things our way."

  I didn't know what to think, but part of me was sure Tan was lying.

  And why that thought would make its way to the surface through the quagmire of my jumbled brain, I don't know.

  I turned my back on him and knelt down beside Jenkings, taking his large hand in both of mine. It felt cold already. Even through the remnants of my gloves.

  "Cardinal?" I said, leaning closer. "Tell me," I urged.

  Even when faced with a needless death I took the opportunity to satisfy my own desires.

  I couldn't have been more guilt-ridden if I'd tried.

  "Carstairs," he mumbled, his voice so soft I had to practically place my ear to his lips to hear. "Chew-wen," he added, his breath now rattling out of his mouth. "Not defend."

  "What? What do you mean?" I cried, shaking him when he seemed to lose consciousness.

  "Lena," Tan warned over my shoulder.

  "Back off!" I shouted, the venom in my words stinging.

  The Cardinal opened his eyes; I think they were sightless.

  "Carstairs shot... the Chief..." And then his hand went limp in my own.

  Carstairs shot the Chief... Overseer.

  Oh, God.

  "Elite," Tan said softly at my side, threatening my once safe and perfect world. "You had to have guessed."

  I had to have guessed what?

  "Jesus," Alan murmured from behind us. "He was the mole?"

  And my safe and perfect world shattered.

  Chapter 11

  Boss, You Gotta See This

  Trent

  I could feel Si's eyes on me. But I wasn't ready to meet them. My mind whirling and churning, the gears like rusted cogs inside my head. Everything seemed to connect in slow moving increments.

  My father had not been the one to shoot and kill Calvin Carstairs.

  Calvin Carstairs, though, had been the one to get a shot off at the Chief Overseer.

  At least one Cardinal had been there when it happened, and either he or General Chew-wen fired the shot that killed Lena's father.