Sudice developed Zeal at first as a virtual reality game in which to act out fantasies. They discovered the extra benefit by accident, that if people acted out violent urges, when they came out, vicious tendencies were dampened. The neural pathways are reworked, suppressing the amygdala, or the prehistoric “lizard” brain we’ve had since we crawled out of the ocean. It worked on those with so-called violent brains, and those without. Overall, people were calmer, happier. Perfect citizens. Zeal lounges became all the rage.

Sometimes I wondered what Mana-ma would have to say about all that.

The first time doing Zeal is a rite of passage, one my sister and I missed. When we tried it later, it was anticlimactic. All the dreams seemed but pale echoes of what we saw during Meditation back at the Hearth, or when we closed our eyes each night.

“The government and Sudice are both terrified of Verve, aren’t they?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“The same drug, but stronger, more powerful, a better high and people wake up not calmer, but angrier. More prone to lash out. San Francisco has peace now, but how peaceful would it be if people weren’t kept dampened by Zeal?”

I wonder if I’m pushing too far, saying that. It sounds critical of the government, his employers. Nazarin only smiles sadly. “I don’t want to find out, do you?”

I don’t say the other thing I’ve wondered, from all the information I’ve brainloaded: what happens if the government gets hold of Verve? Dangerous as it is, it lets people see into others’ dreams remotely. And what if there’s more it can do?

“How did the Ratel develop Verve?” I ask.

“We think it’s Ensi himself who designed it. The genesis is from Zeal. He took it and twisted it somehow. The man is a genius.”

“And where did he come from?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“How deep do the Ratel run?” I ask out loud, more to myself than to Nazarin, but he answers.

“Deep. They’ve got their little tendrils everywhere. Right now, in a way we’re fighting a losing battle. Getting rid of the Ratel completely will likely never happen. What we have to do is have the upper hand, choke off their stronghold before Verve becomes too widespread.”

I understand. “And the easiest way to do that is to get to Ensi. Cut off the head.”

He gives me a sidelong glance. “Exactly. This is the best chance we have.”

A sentence from one of the captured men in my brainloads comes back to me: There are some who don’t agree with Ensi. Some who want him dead. It had seemed obvious to me—of course every organization has those who resent their leaders. The Hearth taught me that. But now I wonder if there’s more. “Unrest?”