Ceilos snorted. “She’ll live.” When he saw my aghast face, he grinned—a genuine grin, not the false smile we all wore when others were around. “Come now, Nadin. You know there’s no love lost between me and my parents.”

I knew Ceilos often said that. But I still didn’t think I would be able to laugh if Melusin or Antos had nearly died.

“You’re not ready.”

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “Do they know what could have caused the System’s early warning protocol to malfunction?”

Ceilos glanced over at the boy. He sat sullenly in his chair, not looking at us.

“It’s fine,” I said. “The System hasn’t decoded his thought patterns yet. He can’t understand us.” I hoped.

Ceilos stared a second longer, then turned back to me. “The System was hacked.”

My eyes widened. “What? But how?”

“They’re not sure. They’re still tracing the source of the breach. But all signs seem to point to”—he lowered his voice—“the ‘Liberator’ and his little band of anarchists.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. This could not have come at a worse time. The planet was on the brink of destruction, and these terrorists were hell-bent on bringing us there even faster. Right now, all of Iamos needed to work together. All lives are one—couldn’t they see that?

“Listen, Nadin,” Ceilos said. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about. Tibros… he’s petitioned the gerotus for a repartnership.”

I looked at him in confusion. “But Clodin isn’t dead. I thought you said she was expected to survive.”

He didn’t meet my eyes. “Not for himself. For me.”

The floor dropped out from under me. There it was again, that horrible, airless feeling. “But why?” I could barely find my voice. “Because I failed my evaluation? Because—” I couldn’t say it.

Because of Gitrin.

“He said that they need a new geroi partnership on Hamos, and he wants it to be me. But, Nadin, I told him no. I—”

I wasn’t listening. My mind was whirling around, drowning in too many circumstances beyond my control. I couldn’t lose Ceilos, too.

“Wait,” I said, my voice cracking. “There’s another way. The geroi…”

“Nadin, it doesn’t matter,” Ceilos interrupted. “I already told him—”

“No!” I grasped his hands in mine. He stopped talking, staring down at them. “Listen,” I said. “I can fix this. I know how…”

I trailed off as I noticed the boy’s reflection in the window over Ceilos’ shoulder. He was watching us again, his eyes focused intently. The expression on his face was not one of confusion—it was one of comprehension.

I pressed my lips together. I knew it.

Folding my arms to match his, I whirled on the boy. “All right, that’s enough pretending. You can understand me, can’t you?”