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“Not a chance,” Erin said.

“Erin, I'm just a kid. And so are you. We're not spies.”

Erin zipped her backpack and threw it hurriedly over her shoulder. She shrugged. “We are now.”

6

The elevator ride out of the building was tense, and Logan could feel himself sweating the whole way, but they made it. Soon Logan and Erin were speeding down the sidewalks of Spokie with a priceless amount of tactical espionage equipment in their pockets.

“You don't seem to understand,” Erin said once they were far enough away from the Umbrella. “This is a war. DOME's the biggest thing Lamson and Cylis have going, and any threat to it is a direct attack against them. Do you want another Total War?”

“Of course not,” Logan said, exasperated.

“I know you didn't ask to be on the front lines of this thing, Logan, but you
are
. They didn't send my dad and me across the country for a field trip. Whatever Peck is doing, it's serious. Attacking Pledges is serious. Killing the Marked—and attacking a DOME agent—is serious!”

“I know that,” Logan said. “Can you slow down, please?” Logan held Erin tight but felt increasingly unsteady as the roller-stick zipped along the Spokie side streets.

Erin pulled back imperceptibly. “Like it or not, you're part of something big tonight, Logan.”

“Then why didn't we just go straight to your father! How is stealing DOME equipment less serious than having looked at a couple of documents?”

“He won't know about the stealing,” Erin said. “Besides, this is bigger than that now. You and I, we need to beat this little piker at his own game. Find out what he's up to, find out who he's working with, and turn the whole lot of misers in.”

The Markless slurs grated against Logan's ears; he couldn't understand why Erin hated them so much. In Spokie, anyone without the Mark was largely ignored, and Logan had never heard anyone talk like that about them. Like they were less than trash.

He didn't quite know what to say. “That's your dad's job, Erin.”

“But my dad has to follow the rules. Due process—laws— jurisdictions,” she snapped.

“And we don't?” Logan asked, incredulously.

“That's right. We don't.” Erin pulled up on the rollerstick and took out her tablet to look at the time. “In forty-five minutes, we're gonna know everything we need to know about this guy. All at once, just like that. No warrants. No bureaucracy.”

“And then what?”

“And then I hack into DOME, plant the evidence, and make it look like my dad did all this. DOME moves in, they catch Peck, you get the best night of sleep you've ever had, and I'm on my way back to Beacon in the morning. Piece of cake.”

“W-wait,” Logan stuttered. “You're going back to Beacon?”

“If we catch Peck, sure. That skinflint's the only reason I'm here.”

Logan hadn't understood until now Erin's motivations in all this. Ridiculously, he'd allowed himself to believe it had something to do with him. But of course that was a fantasy. And suddenly he felt himself sour on the whole thing.

“Erin, just stop. This—this is crazy.
You're
gonna hack into DOME. You—a thirteen-year-old! This plan's already so full of holes I don't know where to begin. And you're just getting started.”

“That's exactly right,” Erin said. “I'm just getting started.” The look on her face stopped Logan's protests cold. “Now point me to Spokie's playground.”

7

The jungle gym in Spokie Central Park was made almost entirely of wood.
Nothing
in Spokie was made of wood anymore, but the jungle gym was. It had been a decision made at the town hall some years back that the park's playground was tradition. It had been an attraction for generations, residents said, just exactly as it was, and the last thing it needed was plastic and fiberglass and diodes and wires and computer processors and television screens hooked up to the Internet.

Consequently, Spokie's playground was a relic from bygone days. Nothing on it lit up. Nothing on it made noise. Nothing on it moved by itself or performed calculations or computations of any sort. The playground was for climbing on, and that was about it. There had been just enough renovations over the past few years to keep the jungle gym from rotting and falling apart, but not a single thing in or around the area had been replaced or tampered with in any way since the park's unveiling long before the States War.

Blake was aware of all of this. When the sun went down, the playground was the darkest, quietest, most private place in Spokie.

It was also great for playing on. But Blake was not playing on it tonight.

He climbed alone to the top of the old slide, where the view of the park was best. The metal sucked the heat from him, and he shivered a little in the late-summer breeze, scanning the scene for signs that Logan had already arrived, or that anyone unexpected was on their way.
They don't make slides like this anymore
, Blake thought. So high up off the ground, straight and built for speed, hard metal and nothing covering it.
The way a slide should be. A perfect lookout with a fast escape
.

Below him, the scene should have been still. They were all set up for Logan now, and Tyler should have stood, waiting silently in the wooden underbelly of the playground castle's main turret. Meg should have swung gently on the swing, bound to its chains by her hands (but not noticeably), the lone, visible, unintimidating guest of the park, kicking innocently at the ground. And Eddie should have been lying in the sandbox, ten feet away, keeping an eye on her for sudden movements or signs of trouble.

Instead the scene looked remarkably like a jungle gym filled with children at play, which Blake supposed is what it was.

“Guys!” he shout-whispered. “Back to your positions!” He looked at his watch and figured they had about twenty minutes before Logan arrived, if they were lucky.

Jo was far off, hidden, poised to protect Peck and to ensure his escape to safety should anything go wrong. The last thing Blake wanted was for her to have to risk that just to help him calm down the rest of the Dust. That was supposed to be Blake's job.

“I'm serious!” he whispered. “
This second!
”

Eddie grabbed the lower rungs of the slide's ladder and called up to Blake. “Having some trouble with Meg over here. Could probably use your help.”

“I can see that,” Blake said. “She's not on the swing. What's the matter?”

“She's playing with a mouse she found in the cedar chips. Says she'll only cooperate if we let her keep it for a pet.”

“So then we keep it. Big deal.”

“But it's dead!”

Blake shook his head and went down the slide, landing on the ground and walking swiftly into the wooden castle. “What is the
matter
with her?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Well, tie 'er up or something! We can't have her acting out on us. Last thing we need is to chase the little beggar down while we're prepping an ambush—”

An explosion behind him cut Blake off midsentence.

“Tyler, knock it off!” he hissed.

“Make me, tightwad,” said a voice from somewhere behind the wooden wall.

“I will, ya little cheapskate! Just see what happens if you make me come over there—”

But Tyler already wasn't listening. He yelled over to Meg, who must have been with him, “Okay, okay. New game! Get this—”

“No bottle rocket games!” Blake said at the top of his whisper. “We're here to rendezvous with the target. You can play your stupid miser rocket games another time.”

“You just know you're gonna lose.”

“Whatever, Tyler.”

“You know it's true.”

Blake emerged from the castle and strode over to where Tyler was leaning down to the ground, readying another rocket. And that's when he saw motion at the edge of the park.

“Shut up! Get down! I see someone.” The playfulness across the park left like air sucked from a balloon. It was suddenly dead silent, each member of the Dust perfectly coordinated. In the corner of his eye, Blake even saw Meg freeze and kneel to the ground, cooperating entirely, aside from the dead mouse she held in her hand.

Blake realized they didn't have the luxury of returning to their assigned places. Slowly, he led the four of them out of the playground area and into the shadow of a nearby cluster of trees.

“That's him,” Blake whispered. “He took the bait.”

Eddie squinted into the distance. “Wait a second,” he said. “Something's not right.”

“What's not right? That's definitely him.”

“Yeah. Fine,” Eddie said. “But he isn't alone.”

Blake focused on the shadows and cursed under his breath.

Eddie was right. Logan wasn't alone. He'd brought the girl with him.

8

“Keep your voice down,” Erin said, as though she knew what she was doing. “They could be here any minute.”

“Erin, we should
not
be here. Please, let's go home before it's too late.”

“Not a chance.” Erin frowned. “We have one shot at this.” Logan shook his head desperately while Erin said, “Let me ask you something. Peck's not a dumb guy. Why do you think he would have left you that note tonight?”

“What kind of question is that? You know as well as I do.”

“No, I don't.”

“Because he's a sociopath, that's why. He kidnaps kids.”

“That's not my question. The guy broke into your room after sundown and left a burning note on your desk. A self-destructing message for your eyes only. What could have
possibly
led him to believe you were going to do anything it said?”

“Was he wrong? I'm here, aren't I?”

“Yeah, but you're here 'cause of me. That couldn't have been his plan. His request wasn't exactly trivial. Why do you think he made it with any confidence?”

Logan thought about it. “I guess . . . I guess he just knew me well enough to know.”

“Know what?”

“That I'd be fed up enough to show. That I was tired of the games. That I'd come just to end it, no matter what, I guess. And he was right. Even without you . . . I think I would've.”

“That's a pretty specific assumption to make about a person's reasoning in a rather unusual situation, don't you think?”

Logan frowned, saddened at how easily he was being manipulated. “He's been watching me a long time. I guess he has my number.”

The two of them arrived at the castle, and Erin set her backpack on the ground. She began rummaging through its contents.

“What now?” Logan asked.

“Now we prepare.”

9

“What is she doing?” Eddie whispered.

“How should I know?” Blake said.

“Looks like she's throwing powder everywhere.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She's pretty,” Tyler said.

“Shut up.”

Among the chatter, Meg sat silently, petting her mouse, which was still dead. Blake was glad she had something to distract her— his one stroke of luck the whole evening. The four of them sat perched, totally invisible, in the shadows, fifty feet from the castle where Logan and his friend stood.

“We wait to see what she's up to,” Blake said. “No one moves until we're sure.”

10

“This is surveillance powder,” Erin said. “Powerful stuff.” She sent it around the play structure in chalky billows, which hung in the breeze before settling invisibly to the surfaces and ground. “It's made of nanomics, essentially. They're sensitive.” She took out a small tube that looked like it might have held hair gel and squeezed a pea-sized glob onto Logan's finger, as well as her own. “Now rub this into your ear canals.”

“I'm not gonna—”

“Just do it.” Erin put her finger in her ears, and Logan followed suit. “Really get it in there.”

It felt cool in Logan's ears, and he could feel it dry and cake onto his skin.

“Now walk ten feet that way.”

“Great idea, Erin. Separate us in the darkened playground where we know
for certain
a convicted killer is waiting to abduct me. How 'bout a round of hide-and-seek while we're at it?”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Fine. Take this if it'll make you feel better.” She handed him one end of a clear piece of twine. “It's a weapon. You'd use it to choke a person. But we'll just use it to keep tethered to one another. Now walk.”

Logan looked at the twine and hoped with all his heart that he would never have to choke anyone, ever. But he held the twine tightly and walked away from Erin, all the same. Once he'd gone a ways out, Erin cupped her hand over her mouth and spoke quietly near the area where she'd dispersed the chalk. “Can you hear me?”

It was as if she'd whispered it right into Logan's ear. “Loud and clear,” Logan whispered back. But Erin shook her head. He returned to her side.

“It's not for communication; it's for surveillance. The gel in our ears is tuned to the powder. Anything anyone says around this play structure, we'll be able to hear. Even a whisper. Even a breath. You could walk five miles and still hear what was happening in this castle. Hold on to that twine, by the way. You might need it.”

“How much does this powder cost?” Logan asked.

“It's not for sale. As far as anyone outside DOME knows, it doesn't, strictly speaking, exist.”

“Well, that's just great,” Logan said sarcastically. “And here we are with a bucketful.”

“Yes, Logan, for
security
, so we know who's around.” She rolled her eyes. “Wind should carry it out to a pretty far perimeter.”

“Fine,” Logan said. “So now what do we do?”

Erin was glad he asked. “To catch Peck, we need tangible, recorded evidence. That means laying a wire.” She pulled something else from her backpack. It looked like a roll of Scotch tape.