Free Rebellion by Stephanie Diaz Page A

seeming distracted. “Did Uma finish fixing your ID tags?” he asks.
    I hold out my wrist for him to see.
    “Good. I already dealt with both your citizen files. And there’s no need to worry about the fuel supply. We’ll take care of it. Just get your safety suits on and be ready to leave.”
    He sounds calm enough, but I note the tension in his jaw as he walks past me.
    “Well, we should probably get breakfast first,” Logan says.
    “We’d better,” I say, “or we might not have time.”
    “Come on.” He grabs my hand, and we head for the mess hall. I can’t shake off my uneasy feeling. Beechy is wrong; we should be worried. Not just because we might not have enough fuel to reach the Surface city, or make it back here if we need to, but also because whoever tampered with the equipment is still in this facility. Maybe Buck’s a liar and it really was him, or maybe he’s telling the truth and it wasn’t.
    But there is someone among us who wants us to lose.

 
    8
    By the time inspections are completed and we’re ready to depart, there’s a buzz of nervousness in the air. We don’t know exactly when Charlie’s officials are transporting everyone out of the Surface settlement. We’re not sure we’ll reach the city in time.
    My safety suit crinkles with every step as Logan and I head for the hovercraft we’re supposed to board. Underneath my suit, I’m wearing the clothes I wore when I first arrived at the compound: the dirty rags I was given in Karum. They smell like sweat and death, but they’ll help me blend into the work camp better than the army tank top and jacket I was wearing earlier.
    Ahead of us, Fiona and Paley are hugging at the hovercraft’s cargo lift. One of them must be staying here. A third of the Alliance will remain behind to keep the headquarters running, but they’ll meet up with us again once we’re ready to infiltrate the Core. Beechy has arranged a method of contact with them.
    “Do we know how much fuel leaked?” Logan asks. His arm brushes mine as he walks beside me.
    “We can ask Beechy,” I say. He’s saying good-bye to Sandy under the wing of a Davara jet. Dropping to his knees, he plants a kiss on her belly, where their baby grows inside, still too small for a bump to be visible. It’s a sweet gesture, but it makes me sad.
    Sandy found out she was pregnant not long ago, the week I was in the Core. She still must have several more months until she’ll give birth. I wonder where she’ll be, and if Beechy will be with her. The uprising might be over by then. There’s no way to know which side will have won, or who among us will come back here once we leave on the ships today.
    Looking around at the steel walls, the ships, the lights, I wonder if I’ll come back. I’m not even sure if I want to. I might be better off not getting through the mission in one piece, if worse things are still to come. But I hope it will be my choice when the time comes.
    “We’re all set for departure, sir,” a pilot calls from one of the two flight pods we’re taking.
    “Good,” Beechy says, pulling away from Sandy. “Let’s get everyone on board.”
    I linger near the cargo lift, to intercept Beechy before he boards the hovercraft.
    “You talk to him,” Logan says, heading up the ramp. “I’ll save us seats.”
    “Okay.”
    When Beechy reaches the lift, I ask, “What happened about the fuel? Do you know how much we lost?”
    “We have enough to reach the city,” he says, his voice oddly stiff. “It’ll be fine. Go take your seat.”
    He didn’t answer my question.
    “Do we have enough in case we need to get back?” I ask. “And the people staying behind, do they have enough for their ships?”
    “Clementine, please let me deal with this. It’s not your concern.”
    “It’s everyone’s concern.”
    “We’re not backing out of this,” he says, almost snapping the words. “Is that what you want? Because it’s the only other option.”
    I press my lips