The place lacked proper rooms, and it had the feeling of a labyrinth. A central plaza was set in the middle, while showers, bathrooms, and one room with a purpose I hadn’t yet figured out were set around the perimeter. A lot of the walls were paths for guards and guards only, and a lot of the hallways had thick glass windows with guards on the other side, with gaps and apertures for guards to fire through. A lot of the hallways, ours included, had a faint four or five degree incline—not so much it was impossible to settle, but enough that it was hard to rest easy without feeling like we’d roll down the hall.

Byron was in prison clothes now. Tristan hadn’t wanted to keep his brother in reserve as the hours crept forward, and so we’d had to find an excuse to swap them out. Laundry was handed out on a requirement basis, and after some confusing discussion and pantomime we’d requisitioned an outfit. The twin that was swapped out wore the armor, which made the swapping something that had to happen in a bathroom stall.

“They’re in the courtyard, southeast corner. I think they’re trying to follow the rules but they’re not quite in the camera’s range. I would bet if they stay in a blind spot like that the guards are going to harass them.”

“And we want to stay where the cameras can watch us,” Byron said. He looked up at the cameras in our hallway. “Got it.”

He pulled himself to his feet and walked off.

“Agents in hallway to our left and middle,” Kenzie said, sticking an arm out to indicate the hallways. “I can’t say for sure that they’re going to be problems but—”

“But we take the right hallway to get to the central courtyard and there isn’t going to be a problem for sure.”

“Yep. Pretty sure.”

Stay in sight, stay clearly under the cameras we were in a position to manipulate, and be model prisoners. That was the game, the charade. It was a game we could cheat at in small ways. Kenzie was a big factor in that, with an eye on the same cameras the guards used.

For all the world, it looked like she was sharing a cot with Ashley, Ashley sitting against the wall, Kenzie lying down with a thin pillow propped up against Ashley’s thigh, which she used as a pillow. Kenzie’s hands were motionless, folded across her stomach. But as Byron left on his mission, Kenzie began humming dissonantly. Tinkering in another way.

“Hmm hm, mm-mm-mm, hmmmm… Mm-wah, hmm…”

There was no musicality, it even bordered on anti-music.