I fabricated. “He said that the weapons are being built at the Kongo Technology Center, in a secret lab. I don’t know where he was when we spoke. From what I could see, it was someplace dark.” I understood comm-unit mechanics in theory. I hoped my answer made sense.

“Perhaps he was somewhere in the secret lab. Perhaps it’s underground,” Jones hypothesized.

“Yes, maybe,” I said.

“What kind of weapons did he say he was building?”

“Some kind of sword, I think.”

“Think, girl! Was it a sword, or wasn’t it?”

My heart skipped. “I’m sorry, Teacher, but weapons aren’t permitted in the Schoolhouse. Learning that was not part of my training.” I ducked my head, expecting a blow. But I would not reveal what I knew of the Helix, the bandits’ only weapon in the coming war. My eyes found a bump on the small knuckle of my right, the one she’d dislocated. If I tried, I could still hear it—snapping.

“Look at me!”

My eyes flew to her face.

“Did you see the Director’s army?”

“Ye—yes, Teacher. I saw but not clearly. I couldn’t see their faces. I don’t think I could identify anyone.” I stopped and took a breath. If I talked too fast, I’d give myself away.

“Was it a large force?”

“Not exactly.”

“Was it small?”

I let my lip hang and shrugged, appearing the ignorant feral. “It was medium,” I said, dumbly.

“Medium?”

“Not too big, not too small.”

“I know what medium means, you idiot. I need numbers. Does he have enough to hijack the Assembly? Can he stop the vote? Is that his plan?”

I had no idea of the Director’s intention. I doubted he would try to stop Jones. He had bigger goals in mind. “I don’t think his goal is to stop the vote,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“The vote takes place tomorrow, but the army I saw was just beginning to train,” I said, logically.

“Are you sure? Answer carefully, girl. Your life depends on it.”

I wasn’t sure, but that was the beauty of this hoax. By the time either of us knew the Director’s intentions, her threats wouldn’t matter. The vote would take place after the exam. I hoped Jones’ treason was exposed. Either way, I would be safe.

I nodded confidently. “I’m sure, Teacher.”

She walked back to her seat, sliding her thick fingers along her desk. She opened a drawer and removed a book of Supply Room passes. She tore off three sheets and placed two in the middle of her desk. “Get clothing and shoes. You look like a feral.”

Shame burned my cheeks. I recalled how she called me a dog not three weeks ago. I forced myself to move slowly, so as not to, in my annoyance, snatch up the passes.