Iko pressed her fingertips together in imitation of thoughtfulness. “I suppose it makes sense that Levana wouldn’t want such a thing to exist.”
“I know. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but such a device would change the balance of power between Luna and Earth, if it could be manufactured. If we’re ever going to have an alliance with Luna, a device like this would be the only way for Earthens to be sure they aren’t being manipulated.”
“That’s genius,” Iko said. “I always liked Garan. He was nice to me, even after they discovered my personality chip was faulty. He at least kept all my software updated. You know, until Adri had me disa.s.sembled.” She paused. “The first time.”
Cinder smiled to herself. The first time she’d seen Iko she’d been nothing more than a jumble of android parts thrown into a box, waiting to be put back together. Iko had been her first project, an attempt to prove her worth to her new stepfamily. She’d had no idea at the time that Iko would also become one of her dearest friends.
Her smile faded, turning to suspicion. “Iko, they stopped making software updates for Serv9.2s over a decade ago.”
Iko tugged on one of her braids. “I never thought about that. You don’t think he was trying to fix the bug that made me … me. Do you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. He designed android systems, after all. I’m sure if he wanted to reprogram you to be a regular android, he could have done it.” She hesitated. If Linh Garan hadn’t been updating Iko’s software or trying to fix her, what had he been doing? “I guess it doesn’t matter. Garan invented this device, but it sounds like Levana destroyed all his notes. If my own software wasn’t already damaged enough by Dr. Erland, I doubt that dip in the lake did it any good…” She trailed off, squinting at Iko.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Cinder shook her head. There were too many problems to fix, too many puzzles to solve. The mystery of Garan’s device would have to wait. “I just can’t imagine how Levana would have even known about the device in the first place, that’s all.”
“I told her.”
Cinder snapped her head toward the door, where Jacin was standing as still and quiet as the door frame itself, sporting a decent-size bruise on his jaw, compliments of Thorne. “You told her?”
“Information has value. I traded that piece for my life.”
It was always difficult to read Jacin’s emotions, but if Cinder had to guess, she would have thought he was incensed over making such a trade. She remembered telling Jacin about the device, ages ago, in the little oasis town of Farafrah. His face had taken on a curiosity that bordered on hunger when he learned there was an invention that could prevent a Lunar from using their gift and prevent their gift from driving them mad.
She stifled a gasp.
Winter.
Of course.
Jacin jerked his chin toward the hallway. “I hate to rush you, but the crown just released a new video that you might be interested in seeing. Evidently you’re dead.”
He and Iko led her to the mansion’s home theater, with enormous lounging chairs that each had a built-in beverage dispenser on its side. Thorne and Cress were standing beside a larger-than-life holograph depicting Levana. She was wearing her veil, but the sound was muted. The enormity of it made Cinder recoil.
“Jacin says they found my body?”
Thorne gave her a pa.s.sing glance. “That’s the word, corpse girl. You were dredged up from the lake last night. They even have this mannequin thing with a painted metal hand and they keep showing a grainy photo of it. Stay around a while—you’ll see. It keeps looping with this speech from Levana. They have the most boring entertainment on this rock.”
“What is she saying?”
Thorne’s voice pitched high in imitation of the queen. “The impostor of my beloved niece is vanquished … Let us put this messiness behind us while we go forward with the coronations … I am a psychotic, power-hungry nut basket and my breath smells really bad under this veil.”
Cinder snickered. She tried to check the time with her internal clock before remembering it no longer worked. “How long until the coronation?”
“Nine hours,” said Iko.
Nine hours. They’d been in this mansion for an entire day and night and Cinder had been asleep for most of it.
“There’s also the ticker…” Cress pointed to the holograph, where a list of sectors was trekking across the bottom, making a constant floating ring around Levana.
“That’s the interesting part,” said Thorne. “She’s pa.s.sed an edict that any sector found in violation of curfew or suspected of a.s.sisting ‘the impostor’ will be barricaded, to be dealt with on a case-by-case basis after the coronation. Then she goes on some spiel about repentance and begging their queen for mercy.”
“It seems a lot of people were motivated by your stunt at the wedding feast,” said Jacin. “The number of barricaded sectors keeps growing.”
“How many?”
“Eighty-seven at last count,” said Cress.
“Including RM-9,” added Thorne, “and every sector in its immediate surroundings. Rather than discouraging the rebellion, the raid there seems to have angered people even more.”
Eighty-seven at last count.
“And you think they’ve all … that all these sectors…” Cinder swallowed. Her head still felt foggy. “What do we think this means?”