I GET THE CALL ABOUT JUNE AS I’M SITTING WITH EDEN. After a morning of experimentations, he’s finally fallen asleep. Outside, clouds blanket the entire city in a bleak atmosphere. Good. I wouldn’t know how to feel if it were a bright, sunny day, not with this news about Commander Jameson and the fact that she’d tried to shoot June out in the open on the streets. Clouds suit my mood just fine.

While I wait impatiently for June to arrive at the hospital, I spend my time watching Tess through the glass of her room’s window. The lab team still surrounds her, monitoring her vitals like a bunch of goddy vultures on an old nature show. I shake my head. I shouldn’t be so hard on them. Earlier they let me put on a suit, sit inside next to Tess, and hold her hand. She was unconscious, of course, but she could still tighten her fingers around mine. She knows I’m here. That I’m waiting for her cure.

Now the lab team looks like they’re injecting her with some sort of formula mixed from a batch of liquid made from Eden’s blood cells. Hell if I know what’ll happen next. Their faces are hidden behind reflective glass masks, turning them into something alien. Tess’s eyes stay closed, and her skin’s an unhealthy yellow.

She has the virus that the Colonies spread, I have to remind myself. No, that the Republic spread. Damn this memory of mine.

Pascao, Baxter, and the other Patriots stay camped out at the hospital too. Where the hell else do they have to go, anyway? As the minutes drag on, Pascao takes a seat next to me and rubs his hands together. “She’s hanging in there,” he mutters, his eyes lingering on Tess. “But there have been reports of some other outbreaks in the city. Came mostly from some refugees. Have you seen the news on the JumboTrons?”

I shake my head. My jaw is tense with rage. When is June arriving? They said they were bringing her here over a quarter of an hour ago. “Haven’t gone anywhere except to see my brother and to see Tess.”

Pascao sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. He’s careful not to ask about June. I’d apologize to him about my temper, but I’m too angry to care. “Three quarantine zones set up now in downtown. If you’re still planning to execute your little stunt, we gotta move out within the next day.”

“That’s all the time we’ll need. If the rumors we’re hearing from June and the Elector are true, then this will be our best chance.” The thought of parts of Los Angeles being cordoned off for quarantines sends a dark, uncomfortable nostalgia through me. Everything’s so wrong, and I’m so tired. I’m so tired of worrying about it all, about whether or not the people I care about will make it through the night or survive the day. At the same time, I can’t sleep. Eden’s words from this morning still ring in my thoughts. Maybe everyone in the Republic can be a soldier. My fingers run along the paper clip ring adorning my finger. If June had gotten injured this morning, I wonder if the last shreds of my sanity would’ve vanished. I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread. I guess that’s true in a pretty literal sense too—my headaches have been relentless today, and I’ve grown used to the perpetual pain pulsing at the back of my head. Just a few months, I think. Just a few months, like the doctors said, and then maybe the medication will have worked enough to let me get that surgery. Keep hanging on.

At my silence, Pascao turns his pale eyes on me. “It’s gonna be dangerous, what you’ve told me,” he says. He seems like he’s treading carefully. “Some civilians will die. There’s just no way around it.”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” I reply, returning his look. “No matter how warped this country is, it’s still their homeland. We have to call them to action.”

Shouts echo from the hall beyond our own. Pascao and I both stop to listen for a second—and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it was the Elector. Weird. I’m not exactly Anden’s biggest fan, but I’ve never heard him lose his temper.

The double doors at the end of the hall swing open with a bang—suddenly, the shouts fill the hall. Anden storms in with his usual crowd of soldiers, while June keeps up beside him. June. Relief floods through my body. I hop to my feet. Her face lights up as I hurry over to her.

“I’m okay,” she says, waving me off before I can even open my mouth. She sounds impatient about it, like she’s spent the entire day convincing everyone else of the same thing. “They’re being overly cautious, bringing me here—”

I could care less if they’re being overly cautious. I cut her off and pull her into a tight embrace. A weight lifts from my chest, and the rest of my anger comes flooding in. “You’re the Elector,” I snap at Anden. “You’re the damn Elector of the Republic. Can’t you make sure your own goddy Princeps-Elect isn’t assassinated by a prisoner you guys can’t even seem to keep imprisoned? What kind of bodyguards do you have, anyway—a pack of first-year cadets?”

Anden shoots me a dangerous look, but to my surprise, he stays silent. I pull away from June so I can hold her face in my hands. “You’re okay, right?” I ask urgently. “You’re completely okay?”

June raises an eyebrow at me, then gives me a quick, reassuring kiss. “Yes. I’m completely okay.” She casts a glance over at Anden, but he’s too distracted talking to one of his soldiers now.

“Find me the men assigned to retrieve the Princeps-Elect,” he snaps at the soldier. Dark circles line the skin under his eyes, and his face looks both haggard and furious. “If luck hadn’t been on our side, Jameson would have killed her. I’ve half a mind to label them all traitors. There’s plenty of room in the firing squad yard for all of them.” The soldier snaps to attention and rushes off with several others to do as Anden said. My own anger wanes, and a chill runs through me at how familiar his wrath feels. Like I’m looking at his father.

Now he faces me. His voice turns calmer. “The lab team tells me that your brother pulled through his experimentation so far very bravely,” he says. “I wanted to thank you again for—”

“Don’t lay it on too thick,” I interrupt with a raised eyebrow. “This whole thing isn’t over yet.” After more days like today, where Eden’s going to fade even faster from all the experiments, I might not be so polite. I lower my voice, making an effort to sound civil again. It’s half working. “Let’s talk in private. Elector, I have some ideas to run by you. With this recent news from Commander Jameson, we might just have an opportunity to stir up some trouble for the Colonies. You, me, June, and the Patriots.”

Anden’s eyes darken at that, and his mouth tightens in an uncertain frown as he scans his audience. Pascao’s giant, ever-present grin doesn’t seem to improve his mood. After a few seconds, though, he nods at his soldiers. “Get us a conference room,” he says. “I want security cams off.”

His soldiers scramble to do his bidding. As we fall into step behind him, I exchange a long glance with June. She’s okay, she’s unharmed. And yet, I’m afraid that she’ll disappear if I’m careless enough to look away. I force myself to hold back on asking her about what happened until we’re all in a private room—and from the look on her face, she’s also waiting for the right moment. My hand aches to hold hers. I keep that to myself too. Our dance around each other always seems like it’s doomed to repeat itself over and over again.

“So,” Anden says once we’ve settled into a room and his patrol has disabled all of the cams. He leans back in one of the chairs and surveys me with a penetrating look. “Perhaps we should start with what happened to our Princeps-Elect this morning.”

June lifts her chin, but her hands shake ever so slightly. “I saw Commander Jameson in Ruby sector. My guess is that she was in the area to scout locations—and she must have known where I would be.” I marvel at how steady June sounds. “I tailed her for a while, until we reached the strip of airship bases that border Ruby and Batalla. She attacked me there.”

Even this short of a summary is enough to make me see red. Anden sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “We suspect that Commander Jameson may have given some locations and schedules to the Colonies about Los Angeles airship bases. She may have also attempted to kidnap Ms. Iparis for bargaining power.”

“Does that mean the Colonies are planning to attack LA?” Pascao asks. I already know his next thought. “But that would mean it’s true, Denver has fallen . . .” He trails off at Anden’s expression.

“We’re receiving some early rumors,” Anden replies. “The word is that the Colonies have a bomb that can level the entire city. The only thing holding them back from using it is an international ban. They wouldn’t want to finally force Antarctica to get involved, now would they?” Since when did Anden become so sarcastic? “At any rate, if they attack now, we will be hard-pressed to have a cure ready to show Antarctica before the Colonies overwhelm us. We can defend against them. We can’t defend against them and Africa.”

I hesitate, then bring up the thoughts that have been churning in my mind. “I talked to Eden this morning, during his experimentation. He gave me an idea.”

“And what’s that?” June asks.

I look at her. Still as lovely as ever, but even June is starting to show the stress from this invasion, her shoulders slightly hunched. My eyes turn back to Anden. “Surrender,” I say.

He hadn’t expected that. “You want me to raise the white flag to the Colonies?”

“Yes, surrender.” I lower my voice. “Yesterday afternoon, the Colonies’ Chancellor made me an offer. He told me that if I could get the Republic’s people to rise up in support of the Colonies and against the Republic soldiers, he’d make sure that Eden and I are protected once the Colonies win the war. Let’s say that you surrender, and at the same time, I offer to meet the Chancellor to give him the answer to his request, that I’m going to ask the people to embrace the Colonies as their new government. You now have a chance to catch the Colonies off guard. The Chancellor already assumes you’re going to surrender any day now, anyway.”

“Faking a surrender is against international law,” June mumbles to herself, although she studies me carefully. I can tell that she’s not exactly against the idea. “I don’t know whether the Antarcticans will appreciate that, and the whole point of this is to persuade them to help us out, isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “They didn’t seem to care that the Colonies broke the ceasefire without warning us, back when this all erupted.” I glance at Anden. He watches me closely, his chin resting on his hand. “Now you get to return the favor, yeah?”

“What happens when you meet with the Chancellor?” he finally asks. “A false surrender can only last so long before we need to act.”

I lean toward him, my voice urgent. “You know what Eden said to me this morning? ‘Too bad everyone in the Republic can’t be a soldier.’ But they can.

Anden stays silent.

“Let me mark each of the sectors in the Republic, something that will let the people know that they can’t just lie down and let the Colonies take over their homes, something that will ask them to wait for my signal and remind them what we’re all fighting for. Then, when I make the announcement that the Colonies’ Chancellor wants me to make, I won’t call on the people to embrace the Colonies. I’ll call them to action.”

“And what if they don’t respond to your call?” June says.

I shoot her a quick smile. “Have some faith, sweetheart. The people love me.”

In spite of herself, June smiles back.

I turn to Anden. Seriousness replaces my flash of amusement. “The people love the Republic more than you think,” I say. “More than I thought. You know the number of times I saw evacuees around here singing patriotic Republic songs? You know how much graffiti I’ve seen over the last few months that support both you and the country?” A note of passion enters my voice. “The people do believe in you. They believe in us. And they will fight back for us if we call on them—they’ll be the ones ripping down Colonies flags, protesting in front of Colonies offices, turning their own homes into traps for invading Colonies soldiers.” I narrow my eyes. “They’ll become a million versions of me.”

Anden and I stare at each other. Finally, he smiles.

“Well,” June says to me, “while you’re busy becoming the Colonies’ most wanted criminal, the Patriots and I can join in your stunts. We’ll pull them on a national level. If Antarctica protests, the Republic can just say they were the actions of a few vigilantes. If the Colonies want to play dirty, then let’s play dirty.”