Kaede notices what’s holding my attention and turns her head down to the ground floor too. Her voice snaps me back. “He’s here for June,” she whispers. “Keep moving.”

Immediately I begin to crawl again, even though my whole body’s shaking. “June?” I whisper back. I can feel my rage rising. “You guys put him, of all people, onto June’s trail?”

“It was for a good reason.”

“And what’s that?”

Kaede sighs impatiently. “Thomas won’t hurt her.”

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. I force myself to keep going. No choice but to trust Kaede now. Eyes forward. Keep moving. My hands tremble and I fight to steady them, to push down my hatred. The thought of Thomas putting his hands on June is more than I can bear. If I focus on that now, I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else.

Stay. Calm.

Below us, Thomas’s patrol keeps making their way through the masses. He’s gradually moving toward the elevators.

We reach the hull of the ship. From here, I can see the line of soldiers waiting to get in via the ramps. That’s when I hear the white shepherd’s first bark. Thomas and his soldiers are now gathered at one of the elevator terminals. The same one we went through. The dog is barking relentlessly, his nose pointed at the elevator door, his tail wagging. Eyes forward. Keep moving.

I glance back down at the ground level. Thomas has one hand pressed tightly against what must be his earpiece. He stands there for a minute, as if struggling to understand something he’s hearing. Then, suddenly, he shouts at his men and they start heading away from the elevators. Back into the crowds of soldiers.

They must have found June.

We make our way across the shadows of the pyramid’s ceiling until we’re perched close enough to the dark side of the ship’s hull. It looms a good dozen feet away from us, with only a lone metal ladder running vertically up its side to the top of the ship’s deck. Kaede readjusts her balance on the metal beams, then turns back to me. “Make the first jump,” she says. “You’re better.”

Time to move. Kaede shifts enough so I can get a good angle on the ship. I adjust my footing, brace myself, hope my leg stays intact, then take a giant leap. My body slams against the ladder bars with a muffled thud, and I grit my teeth to keep from yelling. Pain lances up and down my healing leg. I wait for a few seconds, letting the strain die down before I start climbing again. I can’t see the patrol anymore from this back side, but that means—hopefully—that they can’t see us either. Better yet, I hope they’re gone. Behind me I hear Kaede take her own leap and hit the ladder several feet below me.

Finally, I reach the garbage chute opening. I launch off from the ladder—my hands catch the side of the chute and my arms swing me right into the darkness. There’s another jolt of pain, but the leg still pulses with newfound energy, strong for the first time in a long time. I dust off my hands and stand up. The first thing I notice inside the chute is the cold air. They must have the insides of the ship cooled for the launch.

Moments later, Kaede swings inside too. She winces, rubbing at the cast of her still-injured arm, then shoves me in the chest. “Don’t just stop like that in the middle of a climb,” she snaps. “Always keep moving. We can’t afford for you to be impulsive.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be impulsive,” I snap back. “Why didn’t you tell me Thomas was coming for June?”

“I know your history with that captain,” Kaede replies. She squints into the dark, then motions for us to start climbing up the chute. “And Razor didn’t think it would do you any good to worry about it in advance.”

I’m ready to fire back, but Kaede shoots me a warning glance. With effort, I manage to swallow my anger. I remind myself of why I’m here. This is for Eden. If Razor thinks June is safest under Thomas’s watch, then so be it. But what are they going to do with June once they’ve got her? What if something goes wrong, and Congress or the courts do something that Razor didn’t plan for? How can he be so sure that everything will go smoothly?

Kaede and I make our way up the chute until we reach the lower levels of the Dynasty. We stay hidden behind a stairwell in a lonely back engine room until takeoff, when the steam pistons flare to life and we feel the pressure of the rising ship push against our feet as it lifts free from the landing base. I hear giant cables snapping loose from the ship’s sides and the roar of applause from the base crew cheering another successful liftoff.

After a half hour passes, when my anger’s finally had time to cool, we emerge from the stairwell. “Let’s go this way,” Kaede murmurs as we reach a tiny room with two paths—one leading to the engines and the other leading straight up to the lower floors. “Sometimes they run surprise inspections on the entrances to the base deck. We might have fewer problems in the engine rooms.” She pauses, pressing a hand to her ear and frowning in concentration.

“What is it?”

“Sounds like Razor is in,” she replies.

My leg feels a little sore as we continue, and I find myself walking with a very slight limp. We head up another stairwell that leads to the engine rooms, bumping into a couple of soldiers along the way, until we hit a floor marked “6” where the stairs stop. We wander down this hall for a while before pausing at a narrow door. A sign reads TO ENGINE ROOMS A, B, C, D.

A lone guard waits by the door. He glances up, sees us, and straightens from his slouch. “What do you two want?” he mutters.

We exchange casual salutes. “We were sent here to see someone,” Kaede lies. “Engine room personnel.”

“Yeah? Who?” He squints at Kaede in disapproval. “You’re a pilot, aren’t you? You should be on the upper deck. They’re doing inspections.”

Kaede’s ready to protest, but I interrupt her and put on a sheepish face. I say the only thing I can think of that he probably won’t question. “All right, soldier to soldier,” I mutter to the guard, sneaking a sideways glance at Kaede. “We, ah . . . we were hunting for a good place to . . . you know. We figured the engine rooms should work.” I give him an apologetic wink. “I’ve been trying to get a kiss out of this girl for weeks. Knee surgery got in the way.” I pause here and demonstrate an exaggerated version of my limp for him.

The guard suddenly grins and lets out a surprised laugh, as if he’s pleased to have a role in something naughty. “Ah, I see,” he says, glancing sympathetically at my leg. “She’s a cute one.” I laugh with him, while Kaede plays along by rolling her eyes.

“Like you said,” Kaede tells the guard as he unlocks the door for us. “I’m late for inspections. We’ll be fast—we’re heading up to the top deck in a few minutes.”

“Good luck, you poor bastards,” he calls to us as we head inside. We exchange lazy salutes with him.

“I had a really good story ready to tell him,” Kaede whispers as we go. “Nice cover from you, though. You think of that one all by yourself?” She smiles slyly and looks me over from head to toe. “Too bad I got stuck with such an ugly sidekick.”

I hold both hands up in mock defense. “Too bad I got stuck with such a liar.”

We walk along a cylindrical corridor bathed in a dim, red light. Even down here, flat screens roll a stream of news and airship updates. They’re displaying a list of where all the Republic’s active airships are headed, along with their dates and schedules. Apparently twelve are airborne at the moment. As we pass one of the screens, my eyes skim down to the RS Dynasty.

REPUBLIC SHIP DYNASTY | DEPARTURE: 0851 OCEAN STANDARD TIME, 01.13 FROM PHARAOH DOCK, LAS VEGAS, NV | ARRIVAL: 1704 BORDER STANDARD TIME, 01.13 AT BLACKWELL DOCK, LAMAR, CO

Lamar. We’re headed for a warfront city up north. One step closer to Eden, I remind myself. June will be fine. This mission will all be over soon.

The first room we enter is enormous—rows and rows of giant boilers and hissing vents, with dozens of workers operating each one. Some are checking temperatures, while others are shoving something like white coal into furnaces. They’re all dressed in the same outfit Tess had on right before she left us at the Venezia. We hurry along through one of the rows of boilers until we push through the next door. One more stairwell. Then we emerge onto the Dynasty’s lower deck.

This airship is enormous. I’ve been on board airships before, of course. When I was thirteen, I snuck onto the flight deck of the RS Pacifica and stole fuel from three F-170 fighter jets, then sold it on the black market for a good price. But I’ve never been inside one of this size. Kaede leads us out the door of the stairwell and onto a metal walkway that opens up into a view of all the floors above us. Soldiers are everywhere. We walk with them, careful to keep our faces expressionless. Here on the lowest floor, several formations of troops run through drills. Doors line the corridors, and in between every four doors is a flat screen displaying news. The new Elector’s portrait hangs above each screen. They sure move fast, don’t they?

Razor’s office is one of a half dozen that line the walls of the fourth deck, with a silver Republic seal embedded in its door. Kaede knocks twice. When she hears Razor’s voice calling for us to enter, she ushers us inside, then shuts the door carefully behind her and snaps to attention. I follow her lead. Our boots click against the hardwood floor. Something in the room smells faintly like jasmine, and as I take in the ornate, spherical wall lamps and the Elector’s portrait on the back wall, I realize how chilly it is in here. Razor stands by his desk with his hands behind his back, all fancy in his formal commander uniform, talking to a woman dressed in a similar outfit.

It takes me a second to realize that the woman is Commander Jameson.

Kaede and I both freeze in our tracks. After the shock of seeing Thomas, I’d simply assumed that if Commander Jameson was anywhere in Vegas, she’d be at the pyramid dock, monitoring her captain’s progress. I never thought she’d be on the ship. Why is she going to the warfront?

Razor nods in our direction as both Kaede and I salute him. “At ease,” he says to us, then turns his attention back to Commander Jameson. Beside me, I can sense Kaede’s tension. My street instincts kick in. If Kaede’s anxious, that means the Patriots hadn’t planned on Commander Jameson’s being here. My eyes dart to the door’s lock; I imagine myself whirling around, flinging the door open, and swinging over the balcony railings to the deck below. The ship’s layout plays in my thoughts like a three-dimensional map. I need to be ready to bolt if she recognizes me. Gotta have my escape route ready.

“I’ve been advised to keep my eyes open,” Commander Jameson says to Razor. He seems completely unfazed—his shoulders are relaxed, and he’s wearing an easy smile. “And so should you, DeSoto. If you notice anything odd, come to me. I’ll be ready.”

“Of course.” Razor tips his head respectfully at Commander Jameson, even though his uniform’s insignias indicate that he’s her senior. “All the best to you, and to Los Angeles.”