You’re not together, remember? He did that when he chose his family over you.

I steel myself, gritting my teeth. I don’t have time to moon about over a boy. I have a job to do. The relationship drama can come after.

There’s an electronic beep inside the car. “I’m afraid I’m not authorized to take you any farther,” says the robotic driver.

“What? Why not?”

“I’m afraid I’m not authorized to take you any farther.”

We’re still a good few blocks away from the headquarters, so I have no choice but to head the rest of the distance on foot. This must be yet another way Moncha Corp is trying to discourage the protest—by making it difficult to even get close to its headquarters. The plan is spiraling out of my control, each side of the battle attempting to outwit the other. All I need is a little longer. A little more effort.

I’m running late now. I pick up into a jog, my breath streaming out in front of me like I’m a fire-breathing dragon. A dragon with enormous boots on to ward off cold toes and a jacket so big I look like the Michelin Man.

But then my breath is almost stolen away from me as I finally round the corner to Moncha HQ. There are baku statues everywhere here—and not just level ones and twos. Because these are mostly Profectus students, there are higher-level bakus too—dogs and cats, monkeys and birds—scattered all over the red brick courtyard. It’s a jaw-dropping sight.

The media have made it to the scene. It’s strange to see them scrambling with old-fashioned cameras, as the baku birds they would traditionally use are refusing to display any footage. Between this and the cars, Eric Smith is really digging in. The measures smack of desperation. He must know his time is running out.

Especially because his son is out there, leading the revolution.

I can see Carter across the square, giving a statement to the media. I head over to listen to him. He sounds louder and more confident than I’ve ever heard him, channeling his normal arrogance to my cause for a change. He emphasizes how the protest isn’t because we don’t want our bakus—we love our technology—but because we cannot update, not until there are assurances in place that bakus will never be used to adjust our personalities.

I notice he is also attracting the attention of Moncha Security—exactly as we had planned. I can see the slick black panther bakus gathering behind him in front of the main door to the building.

“Oh, there you are!”

I spin around to see Kai, River, and Ashley waving and running up to me. Their faces are bright red with exertion, eyes shining with excitement. “Happy with the turnout?” Ashley asks.

“Happy? I can’t believe it!”