“I think you scared him,” he says quietly.

“You’re worried I scared a rat?”

Atlas’s laugh warms the silence again as a furry red-brown face and curious hazel eyes emerge from the bookshelf crevice. “Now you’ve offended George—a very valuable, albeit slightly hairier, member of our team. He and Margaret make sure there aren’t any rats in the Lyceum. Right, boy?”

The long-haired, fluffy cat gracefully hops down from the shelf and winds like a ribbon in between Atlas’s legs. He lets out a plaintive meow that melts my heart.

Atlas scratches the cat’s ears and gives him a pat on the head. “Lucky for you, George isn’t the type to hold a grudge as long as you pet him and put up with his longing stares while you’re eating. One hard-and-fast Lyceum rule is that no one is allowed to feed George and Margaret no matter how much they beg. And they will beg. Especially George here.” George lets out another loud meow as if to verify Atlas’s claim, and I can’t resist stooping down to let George inspect my hand. He gives several curious sniffs before head-butting my palm—a surefire signal he wants the strokes I give him.

“Why can’t anyone feed the cats?” I ask.

“Everyone on this train has a job, even George and Margaret. If they want to eat, they have to hunt. Keeping the Lyceum vermin-free is imperative.”

George arches his back in a long stretch and gives us one last meow before sauntering off. “What exactly are the Stewards? How many of them are there and what are you trying to do with—” I look up at the lights high above me. “With all of this? What do you think you can possibly change by hiding books?”

I’m tired, and the tiny clicking noises mixed with bells are beginning to sound like Irish step dancers inside my head, making it hard to focus.

“Hiding books? That’s all you think this is?” Atlas shakes his head as if I am deliberately missing the point. He unfastens his tie, shoves it in his pocket, and starts unbuttoning his black dress shirt. “This is everything. It’s our history. Our lives. Our futures. The only way anyone will ever know these things existed is if we safeguard them.”

“I get that part.” At least, I think I do. “But what good is it doing if it is all just down here and no one knows about it?”

“Eventually, everyone will know. But we have to wait for the right moment. Until then, we protect it.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before speaking again. “The government shrank our world and the lives we live bit by bit and we let them because it was easier for people to believe what they said than to fight. Our government taught people not to question what they were doing. There used to be a dozen places to find news. Now there are two. They took away the words first. Then the people who voiced doubts and the people who resisted vanished. Most people never objected because their lives seemed just fine. It’s easy to just keep putting one foot in front of another. It’s harder to stand up and fight, especially for something that doesn’t seem to affect you. Right now people still don’t see how affected they are. They don’t know it’s hurting them. The Stewards have vowed to be here waiting when they do.”