The idea is a citywide protest. The un-updated people of the city, as many as we can round up, gathering at a few major hot spots so we can protest the update. The date is set for New Year’s Eve, and we need to get as many people as possible to join us.

But even before we can properly get organized, Eric Smith throws a wrench in our plans. He must have noticed the kids at school weren’t updating—the numbers not computing, not adding up—so they decided to amp up the consequences. Update by the new year or else the un-updated bakus would be put out of commission.

The days in between Christmas and New Year’s Eve are both excruciatingly long and way too short. Zora works around the clock on the code. Carter goes back to his dad, acting like nothing is happening, apologizing for his outburst, hoping to lull his dad into a false sense of security. I enlist the help of Jake to rally the troops; thanks to his skill at running an underground baku battles gambling ring, he’s the master of keeping things under the radar while still spreading the word, and he’s devised a series of code words and false leads in case Moncha is watching.

They’re not the only ones who know how to be sneaky.

There’s even word that some people are using handwritten letters to pass the word around.

Talk about old school. I’m surprised there are still enough of us left who know how to use a pen and paper.

On the morning of December 31, Zora and I are the first people to show up outside one of the locations—City Hall—the strange buildings that curve like wings around the public square. It’s freezing cold, but we’re not planning to stay here long. I dig my hands deep into the pockets of my winter coat. Jinx curls around my legs, a black mark against the white snow. Now that we’re confronting Moncha, he doesn’t want to hide anymore.

“Holy bakus, Lacey. Look.” Now Zora is pointing at the street just behind the ice rink. We can see a couple of pink and orange jackets, bright against the otherwise gray backdrop of concrete high rises and dirt-covered snow banks. “They’re from St. Agnes, I’m sure of it,” she continues.

Okay Jinx, our part of the plan is in action. Now you have your job to do.

>>I’ll be back before you know it.

I look down at the watch I took from Mom’s bags. Such a strange thing to have on my wrist, so analog and mechanical. I quite like it. I might keep it.

I need the watch, because I no longer have a baku. I place Slick down on the ground at my feet, his switch powered down so he’s one of the first bakus involved in the protest.