At four hours, no one wanted to stop. They’d discovered so much, come to understand so much. Michael was swept up to the point that he’d practically forgotten the dire circumstances that had made the task necessary in the first place.

He had been right. The Mortality Doctrine lived and breathed within the Hallowed Ravine program, like the basic building blocks of genetic code. Michael had never seen anything like it. If the Ravine had veins, the Doctrine was the blood that pumped through it. You couldn’t look at the code for one without seeing the other. All of it was linked together, like some beautiful man-made biological creation.

And Michael planned to destroy it.

“Let’s go out,” he messaged to the others. Sensing their reluctance, he let go of Gabby’s and Bryson’s hands and opened himself back to the visual side of things. The universe of code disappeared, replaced by greenery and blue sky.

Helga blinked against the brightness of the sun. “Well, that was…fascinating.”

“Weird,” Bryson said. “And cool.”

Gabby nodded her agreement. “I wonder if my dad knows about this place.”

Michael’s heart skipped a beat. He’d totally forgotten that her dad worked for the VNS. Had he been in one of those Coffins back in that enormous building?

Gabby obviously sensed his concern. “Don’t worry, Jax. I mean, Michael. I know my own dad. There’s no way he’s one of the bad guys. I’ve been messaging him—he’s safe and nowhere near the office. I guess you could say he called in sick.”

She gave him a weak smile, and it made Michael think of the last time he’d seen Sarah do that. She’d always tried to deflect his worries with a grin, too—even if it was a weak one.

“That’s good to hear,” he said.

“So what’re we going to do?” Bryson asked. “You really want to destroy this place?”

Michael nodded. “We don’t have a choice.”

“We need rest,” Helga said.

Michael couldn’t have agreed more. “And food, but we can’t afford to Lift right now. Bryson, you were always the best at it. Code us in some grub from Dan the Man Deli.” Back in the Coffin, they’d be fed with an IV—nothing to write home about—but here in the Sleep it’d all taste divine.

“You got it, maestro.”

7

They ate. They took naps. They spent two or three hours strategizing and planning. It was going to take a monumental effort—they all knew that. But not one of them doubted it could work. Linked together, with a lot of hard work and brilliant coding, they could destroy the Mortality Doctrine program. Michael knew it. They were hours from victory.