The scenery before me shudders and sways in rhythm with the rattling cart. I shift in my seat, struggling to find a comfortable position atop the hard wooden bench. From the driver's seat beside me, Tawny flicks the reins and the horses respond with a sigh, not bothering to increase their pace above a weary plod.

We cross through colourless farmland before the road dips and the stately structures that make up Babel's metropolitan rise up to greet us. Our cart joins the stampede of traffic circling the Tower and I feel instantly safer, despite my proximity to the Madam. The crowd is a disguise better than my patched outfit and dark hair could ever hope to offer.

Though the streets and bridges still teem with people, a surplus of black uniforms reveal that the Enforcers nearly outnumber citizens, the latter of which keep their eyes downcast and their conversations low as they pass the former. Tawny pulls the cart over in front of an abandoned storefront and I hop down, taking the opportunity to stretch my sore muscles.

Tawny swivels in her seat to look at me, "I assume you're capable of making your way from here."

"I'll be fine." I glance up and down the street, adjusting my cap so that it sits lower over my brow. "What time do the announcements start tonight?"

"Six o'clock."

Craning my neck to see between the buildings, I make out the face of the clock adorning the top of the Tower. "That gives me three hours. I'll meet you back here after they're done."

"Just make sure you find me before curfew," Tawny picks up the reins. "I'm not getting caught out here after dark."

"Don't wait for me."

She nods, urging the horses back into motion. I turn in the opposite direction, shouldering my bag and letting myself be swept up by the city. At first my direction is random as I let the sights and sounds of Babel wash over me, taking note of the ever-increasing piles of rubbish that line the streets and gutters. The citizens are hurried, their steps purposeful. I weave in and out of the throng, my ears perked to the various conversations. The atmosphere is thick with tension, people too scared to do or say the wrong thing and give the Enforcers a reason to give them attention. It's clear from the guards' boisterous swagger that they operate under very little scrutiny and I feel myself prickle each time one brushes by me.

Posters of the Runner still line the walls but the old, faded pictures have been plastered over with brightly-coloured replacements. The new posters showcase my image in profile with the words REWARD FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO CAPTURE stamped prominently across it. I rub the bridge of my nose, willing away the sharpness and wishing there was more I could do to disguise my features.

No matter. I only need to avoid detection for a few more days. Seeing myself as the subject of such propaganda only reaffirms that I am heading down the correct path. The Madam may assert her ultimate control over Babel but her actions tell another story.

I'm making her nervous.

Good.

A pair of Techs move past me, heading in the direction of the Tower. I trail them for a few blocks, watching when they enter a store. I briefly consider following them inside, hanging back when I notice the glass vials and other expensive-looking equipment advertised in the window. Several minutes tick by and when the Techs finally re-emerge I opt to remain a full block behind them, catching up again when they stop at a pastry cart. Joining the line of people waiting to fill their flasks at an adjacent fountain, I strain to hear their conversation. At first, I catch only snippets but bit by bit, the buzz of surrounding hubbub fades away and soon I'm left alone with just the pair of scientists.

"Well, we managed to fill less than half of the work order." One of the Techs peers into her shopping bag, frowning. "Babel is going to the dogs."

"What else do you expect with this labour shortage?" Her companion responds. They pay for their lunch and carry them over to a bench near the fountain.

"I don't know how she can expect us to keep up with the influx without the proper equipment." The woman grumbles.

"I wouldn't worry about it. Doesn't seem as though she cares about much, these days."

"When was the last time your department had an inspection?"

"A month, at least."  The man shrugs. "Used to be we couldn't keep her out of the labs but now she barely steps a foot in them."

"We better get used to being second-tier." The woman brushes a crumb from her pristine white coat. "That is, until we get reassigned to the other project."

"I'm expecting my transfer notes any day, the way things are going. People are disappearing left, right and centre. Do you remember Dr. Rose?"

I stiffen at the mention, recalling the Tech that Luca and I stuffed in the locker.

"What about her?"

"Gone. Reassigned. Same story with Dr. Lowen and Dr. Field. Here one day, gone the next." The man shakes his head. "Would be nice to have a little warning, not that I'm complaining."

"Of course not," The woman replies, raising her empty pastry wrapper in agreement. "Any job is a good job, so long as it keeps us out of the water line."

They glance in our direction and laugh, tossing the remnants of their lunch into a bin before leaving. I feel myself bristle at their departure, stepping up to take my turn at the fountain and filling my hip flask before taking off down the opposite street.

The hour leading up to announcements passes in a blur as I trace a series of paths through the city, my eyes darting over the faces of the Brutes while questions cloud my thoughts. What is this science project that the Madam considers to be of the utmost importance? How can we use Babel's tendency to to disappear its citizens to our advantage? Above all else, I wonder if the Tech's godless science could be used to turn the Brutes back into their former selves.

No, it isn't a question. I know that they can. They have to.

For him.

Eventually, I fall into step with the crowd making their way to the Tower. We assemble in the yard and fan out so that we're surrounding the loudspeakers. I keep the brim of my cap pulled low as I study the people around me. Though the courtyard is full, I notice that we're not packed together as tightly as I remember. As Tawny warned, the population is steadily dwindling. The Enforcers and their mechanical counterparts line the edges of the yard and the bridge leading to the Tower's oversized doors. I spot Geoff and Luca standing guard and the spark of worry flares to life. I know that Luca is more than capable of taking care of himself but the fear that accompanies seeing him in an Enforcer's uniform still lingers.

"Good evening," The Madam blares overhead, right on schedule. I keep my expression blank and bored, internally stewing in my frustration that she can be so close while still remaining stubbornly out of reach.

Patience.

Shifting my attention to the crackly voice spewing from the speakers, I catalogue the usual round of nonsense, skin crawling when no less than nine unfortunate souls are listed and ordered to report to the Palace. Unwilling to witness any displays of heartbreak my gaze flicks upwards. The layers of walkways blur until I focus on the barely-visible pipes crisscrossing the dome's roof, squinting a little as I imagine the water destined to fall from them. I think of the Irrigator's skeleton resting below our feet, it's bones grown rusty after eight months of disuse and wondering why the Madam never had it repaired. It would be easy enough for her to replace the slaves we rescued with her mechanical army, so why hasn't she bothered? Babel's water reserves may be well-stocked but it is still finite. 

With the announcements concluded, the Enforcers move to herd us out of the square. I catch another glimpse of Luca but if he recognizes me he gives no indication, his expression professionally blank as he helps Geoff and the others to clear the yard. The great clock atop the Tower rings out a warning but I keep my pace controlled, forcibly ignoring the temptation to run as I head back through increasingly-empty streets.

I find Babel's rebel leader pacing in front of the abandoned storefront. Tawny looks up at my approach, an anxious look painted across her features.

"Been waiting long?" I ask.

"Hurry up." She doesn't bother to wait, ducking into a nearby alley and leading me hastily away. I follow her up a short flight of stone steps, ears perked for a sign that our mission was a success as we draw further from the city outskirts and closer to danger.

My listening skills are inconsequential. When it happens, the explosion is strong enough to shake the very bedrock below our feet.

Tawny and I catch ourselves against the side of a building, shaking loosened pieces of rubble from our hair as we crouch down low. At once, an ear-piercing alarm sounds through the speakers a few blocks away in the Tower square, it's proximity making the sound deafening.

I slap my hands down atop my ears, pressing myself flat against the wall behind me as I grapple to plot our next move. Between blasts of alarm I make out voices and the thundering footfalls of Enforcers running towards the source of the explosion. Tawny makes to peek around the corner before I grab a handful of her tunic and yank her back, pulling us flush against the wall in the instant before a horde of Enforcers run by. When the stampede past our hiding place finally ends Tawny and I take off back down the alley. The already impossibly-loud alarm grows even louder and I glance up at the Tower clock when we reach the next crossing.

"How much further?" I mouth at Tawny.

She points across the street, indicating a wide set of stone steps sweeping up into a stately apartment complex. I make my assessment; the steps are drenched in the light cast by nearby lamps and there is a terrifying lack of cover. To add to our luck, the street we need to cross leads directly to the yard and the charred remnants of Tawny's cart.

Shit.

My eyes skip back to the clock. As I watch, the minute hand jolts so that it is standing upright, the hourly chime swallowed up by the alarm.

We wait for another agonizing minute, two sets of eyes glued to the clock. When the second hand finally connects with it's older brother, neither Tawny nor I draw a breath.

The second hand falls again. And again.

Nothing happens.

Shit.

"What hap—"

Another bone-shattering explosion severs the question. The alarm is silenced as a cloud of ash rises before the Tower, shrouding the clock and giving us a precious few seconds of cover.

"Go." I shove Tawny into motion, taking off after her as we dart towards the stairs. We race upwards, my bruised ribs crying out a protest when we round a corner and Tawny pounds her fist against a door. Within moments a crack of light greets us and we are ushered inside, at once sealed off from the cloud beyond. Sinking into a chair, I clutch my aching ribs while Tawny rests with her hands on her knees. Someone shuffles around us, drawing the curtains and dousing the lights. Without the alarm the city has turned unnervingly silent. We wait and listen, hearing only the distant shouts of the Enforcers between our own laboured breaths.

I open my mouth to say something then start as a heavy fist sounds repeatedly from outside. At once I am on my feet and primed for flight, my eyes darting to the windows.

Tawny holds up a finger as she edges to the door and draws back a sliver of curtain. Her posture visibly relaxes and she slides the bolt free and stands back to let the visitors inside.

An Enforcer steps across the threshold. Seeing Luca causes relief to flood through me and I feel a surprising urge to rush forward, remaining rooted in place only by Geoff's subsequent appearance.

"Did anyone see you?" Tawny asks as she locks us in once more.

"Nah. As far as anyone's concerned, we're just sweeping this neighbourhood for ne'er do wells." Geoff's eyes dart to me. "Looks like we found some."

"Cute." Tawny responds.

With the adrenaline wearing off and Luca's safety confirmed, I'm free to take proper stock of our hideout. Unlike the farmhouse, the flat is crammed with oversized furniture, books and various pieces of art. Falling into step behind Luca, I continue to look around while Tawny's accomplice leads us to an ornate, yet undeniably cozy sitting room. The man tosses another log into the fireplace before busying himself gathering a jug of water and several glasses. While the rest of us arrange ourselves on the various settees Luca, as usual, opts to stand.

"Thanks," I say, accepting the cup of water when it's handed to me. "And you are?"

"Oh, of course." The man straightens abruptly, nearly sending the tray of drinks toppling to the ground. "I've completely forgotten my manners. I'm Simon."

"A pleasure." I grab the edge of the tray to steady him. "And this is your place?"

"Used to be our place." Simon hands a drink to Tawny, who has an uncharacteristic blush staining her cheeks. "Now it's just mine."

I sip my water, only half-listening as I concentrate on the sounds of commotion outside. The alarm hasn't turned back on, which tells me that we succeeded and that the bomb hidden inside Tawny's cart had its desired effect. The Madam's precious speaker system has been destroyed.

As I explained to Tawny, this is just the beginning of what's to come. The ten days we have remaining before my tribe descends upon Babel will be dedicated to creating chaos from within.

Rattling the Madam's nerves isn't enough. I want her scared.

"Pity you ladies couldn't stick around to see the show." Geoff waves Simon away, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a flask. "The wreckage puts what you did to the tunnels to shame."

An impish smile pulls at Tawny's lips. "How did it look? Is the speaker system completely down?"

"Looks to be that way." Geoff offers his flask to Luca, who shakes his head. "Hunks of metal, everywhere. It's going to take them weeks to repair it."

"Then it's over." Tawny turns her grin to me but I can't bring myself to return it. "If she can't talk to us, she can't command us. She's lost control."

"Not yet, she hasn't." I say grimly. "She's still well-equipped. There's the Brutes and the Enforcers."

"Poison." Luca adds to the list. "And firepower."

"Not to mention the airships."

Tawny's triumphant expression doesn't waver. "If we can scrounge up some more gunpowder, I can take them all out."

Her words hang heavy, filling the room. I stare at her for a long time, choosing my words carefully as I prepare to repeat an argument in public that we've already shared in private.

"We only have ten days until the Runner and her army arrive." I say, mindful of the fact that I have to continue operating under the assumption that neither Geoff nor Simon know who I am. "And thanks to you, Babel has become an extremely dangerous place to linger. Breaking into the Tower just to steal some measly kegs of gunpowder would be foolish. Now is the time to lay low."

"You said that we should be committing sabotage." Tawny shoots back. "The Madam knows that we're revolting, so let's do something big."

"Small acts can inflict more damage than large ones." Luca speaks up from his place near the door. "Ten days is a short while and I, for one, wish to remain alive for the duration."

"I'll second that." Geoff belches into his fist.

The smug look has finally left Tawny's face. "You're not but a bunch of cowards."

The already-stifling room turns suffocating. "Excuse me?" I ask, my voice low.

"Cowards. You say that you're disguising yourselves as Babelonians in order to learn how the Runner can bring down this dome. Well, I am an actual Babelonian and I know precisely how we can cause the most damage."

"More bombs." I spit the words. "You cannot pretend to exert control over those things. Sooner or later you're going to catch a bystander."

"I know what I'm doing. I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"How could you possibly be so certain?"

"Well, Tawny learned weapon manufacturing from the best. Isn't that right, darling?" I had entirely forgotten about Simon. He perches nervously in his seat and pushes his wire-rimmed spectacles up from where they've slipped down his nose.

My attention jerks to him, "Learned from who?'

"Simon," Tawny hisses a warning.

"The Madam, herself." Simon looks surprised to be relaying this information.

I blink, looking from him, to Tawny and Geoff and finally at Luca. His hand has closed around the hilt of the standard-issue knife at his belt and his eyes have turned black. Seeing how quickly Luca falls into darkness causes my senses to prickle and the reality of our situation to drive it's way home.

Our survival is ensured only so long as we have Tawny's trust.

We have come too far, embedded ourselves too deeply, invested too much in this spider's web to sabotage it all now. I have already made countless compromises in order to get this close, what's one more?

And so, I sit back and take another long sip from my glass.

"Seeing as though we're in for the night," I say, crossing my arms expectantly. "Why don't you go ahead and tell us a story."