I take three deep breaths. Concentrate. Nothing stays hidden forever; everything wants to be found. It sounds like something Robie would say to justify a burglary… Wait. Has said.

Crest. View… It hits me. The Summit, also known as Robie’s office. We were never after the battery at all.

It all comes together. The answer sits on Robie’s desk: a globe filled with hydrogen peroxide, oxalate esters, butyl benzoate… He told us during a burglary lesson that it was stolen from the White House during a party celebrating President Madden’s plans for the interconnected world. It wasn’t super valuable, but Robie took it for fun.

A reaction that existed before this time where knowledge rules and skill declines… It is a giver of light… A chemical reaction. The H202 triggers a chemical chain that produces light… The globe is a glow ball. Truth uncovered, recharged, raved…then buried in greed to protect fame.

The story of the globe’s theft reminds me of the secret parties my parents used to throw on the grounds of our Santa Barbara estate. Nights when the half-naked, beautiful Influencer elite let loose. Only the trusted were invited, which never included me, but that didn’t stop me from hiding in the shadows and taking notes. I’m sure the same sort of thing happens in D.C., especially now that Claire Madden is president.

Break the world, make it shine, and take your place among the divine…

I have to break open the world.

Sprinting to the sarcophagus, I grab a kerosene lantern from a wall sconce and duck inside. The Summit is tucked into the side of a mountain and accessible only by the Zephyr, a wind-powered railcar. It’s risky to take a path I’ve never been down, but I’m guessing it’s a quicker route to the Lodge, which is next to the entrance to the Zephyr. I just can’t afford any wrong turns.

I scramble down the slick stone steps into the dark corridor. Slipping, I tumble to the bottom, scraping my knee and elbow. Metallic blood on my lips, I ignore the pain. I don’t have time for it. Jumping to my feet, I hurry forward, straight through a spiderweb that must have been built since Garrett passed through. Ugh. And where’s the spider? My skin crawling, I brush off my face and arms as I run, picturing a mummy chasing me through the creepy tunnel.

Fortunately, the passageway leads straight to the Lodge. I can’t get out of there fast enough. It has little offshoots here and there, but I stick to the main path, and it gives way to a staircase that winds to a door in the back of a fireplace. The fire has been extinguished, and I emerge into cool emptiness.