Cleaning the apartment helps me reflect, letting my thoughts catch up with where I am and what I’m doing right now. I’m at home, mopping the floor with soapy water, enjoying the strength it takes to squeeze the dirty water back into the bucket. I find everything a lot more relaxing when I know our place is clean.

  Last night I was able to submit my assignment, and today, in front of a large number of students, I even delivered the first Resource Management presentation. Mrs Pryor seemed to like it. I expect she will award me with high marks given the class’s reaction.

  With all of my assessments out of the way, there are only exams left, most of which we are studying for during school hours. The teachers are winding down toward the end of the year. They want a break too. Why would they teach us more information if it means extra work for them?

  Ernie is sitting cross-legged on his mattress, deep in thought, staring at a rectangular box in his hands. It must be for a practical Systems & Logic assignment. They never used to let us take ours home, but Mr Ito likes Ernie more than he likes me.

  Of course he’s the type of teacher to give his favourites special treatment.

  I’m very glad that he didn’t rebel against me today in attempt to attend football training behind my back. Getting to watch the matches live on the weekend seems to have been enough for him to stick to his promise and choose his supportive sister over the dangerous one and her bad-influence friends.

  It’s refreshing not to feel like we were followed home today. That’s another load off my mind. I even have more money after how much I just earned, which means I can work less hours today and be able to deal with more of my family’s own mess.

  But things still don’t feel right.

  The confrontation with Dom over his plan to cause more chaos for United World, just for the sake of it, is going to have a violent end to it. And he is dragging our family straight toward the consequence of his actions!

  The more likely outcome is that the next time they invade United World, they will end up restrained or badly harmed. If, instead, things go their way, I can only see other people getting hurt, including the stability we rely on to govern our global society.

  As the only person aware of this before something goes wrong, here I am in another predicament. I simply can’t let it happen.

  I finish mopping by working my way between Dad and the TV, squeezing past the coffee table cluttered with greasy takeaway utensils, an ashtray, two empty beer cans, and a scattering of stale, crushed chips. It’s a dangerous path to take, but I can’t leave it as the only dirty area left in the apartment. Normally, he would yell at me for blocking his view for even a second, and I would have to deal with his slightly more aggressive attitude for the rest of the day.

  Today, however, he actually lifts his feet, letting me mop away the filthy footprints beneath. In my surprise, I temporarily freeze, blocking his view longer than usual. He remains silent, his eyes set in the direction of the TV. I don’t think he is even paying attention to what’s on the screen. He’s been able to leave the TV on all day and night ever since Roselyn increased our power quota, but I don’t think he actually watches any more shows than before. It’s just a distraction from having to live his boring life, stuck at home. Regardless, it doesn’t matter why. Silent inaction beats vocal and physical aggression any day!

  I change into clean socks, and they soak up some of the wet floor as I walk to empty the cloudy grey water down the drain. I rinse the bucket, leaving it beneath a hole in the roof where leaks tend to drip through from the floor above. The next thing I wish to clean is myself. Work will dirty me again, but with all the extra power we have, I can afford to generate the water and shower twice today.

  As I stand in the shower, my mind clears, working through the thoughts it hasn’t had time to process. Paying attention to my calming breaths and slowing heart rate, I might even be relaxed enough to have a micro-nap before work.

  I jolt awake at the sound of a loud commotion.

  The anger began in my dreams. First, it was Mr Klein yelling at me for delivering my speech when he wasn’t there, his voice raised to a scary volume I had never heard before. Out of spite, he gave everyone else full marks, and the gloating looks Claudia and Dom gave me are still firmly fixed in my mind. Then it was Mr Hydell, hands on his hips and furious at me for missing a day of work, and had illogically given my work back to a spiteful Georgina. Even she was annoyed at me for taking the catering job against her cautious warning.

  When I lift my head, dragging myself out of my dreams to look across the room, reality makes more sense. Dad stands over Roselyn, fierce and unrestrained, while she erupts back at him with equal aggression. It’s a Dad vs Roselyn shouting match.

  I lie back down, hoping they continue to forget that I’m here.

  “I forbid you to do anything of the sort!” Dad reprimands.

  “Don’t you get it?! This is our chance to catch them stealing the world’s power!” Roselyn fires back in frustration.

  “You can’t hurt these kinds of people. They have the resources to do far more to you than you could ever do to them!” Dad counters, trying to keep her grounded.

  “That’s exactly why we need to do it!” Roselyn insists.

  “No. You are not permitted to do this. And that’s an order!” Dad commands definitively.

  “Argh! You can’t stop me from here,” she shoots back in challenge. “Enjoy living in self-pity at home with the extra power I got for you. It’s what you’re good at!”

  I listen as Roselyn storms out, the front door slamming behind her and sending a fierce vibration through the apartment. Despite the renewed quietness, I feel just as tense as when they were fighting. Now is not the time to reveal that I’m awake.

  Dad’s stomps hit the floor, my muscles tightening in self-defence with each step that reduces the distance between us.

  I’m not awake. I’m not awake.

  I jerk at his hands grabbing my side and shoulder as he shakes me vigorously. Well, now I can’t pretend to still be asleep.

  “What?” I ask irritably, a frown creasing my forehead.

  “Get up,” he responds flatly. “I need you to follow Roselyn.”

  “I have to work tonight. She’s your daughter. You follow her.”

  “YOU’RE MY DAUGHTER TOO. DO WHAT I SAY!” he shouts, his anger boiling beyond his control.

  Ready to sarcastically decline his polite command, I bite down on my tongue, aware of my surroundings for the first time since waking.

  “Where is Ernie?” I ask, concern rising in my voice.

  “HE IS WITH YOUR SISTER! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME NOW?” he kindly informs me at full volume.

  I ignore his tone as the implication of his words hits me. He has my full attention now.

  “What?” I repeat, more panicked this time. “Why is she taking him to United World?”

  “WHO CARES!!! GO AND STOP THEM!” he orders.

  I can’t argue with that logic! I throw on my nearest clean clothes without caring if they match, my mind on nothing but saving Ernie’s life as I flee into the crowded street, the after-work rush pressing in from all sides. They won’t be easy to locate amongst all these people. I simply MUST find them before they enter the premises!

  Maintaining a pace somewhere between a power walk and a light jog, my heartbeat pounding in my ears, I dodge through the masses heading toward the city for the evening and arrive where I last watched Roselyn enter the suburb.

  The sun is trailing down toward the horizon, sunset still half an hour away. They will want to wait until night before invading United World territory again, so I don’t think I have missed them.

  All the way there, I can’t stop disastrous scenarios from flooding my mind; security dragging Ernie and his future away, Roselyn crying out in pain, Dom untouched and ready to recruit his next victims. This wait is so much worse than skipping school yesterday in Mariana’s office!

  Finally, they announce themselves with the usual obnoxious noise of schoolchildren, careless noise echoing far louder than they realise it does. Dom leads the group with his confident struts. Of course he is their leader. Roselyn and Ernie follow him, her expression determined, though more nervous than she has ever acted in front of me. She keeps close to him, speaking seriously and sweetly, as he studies the pavement beneath his feet. I should have known he didn’t want to do this.

  Sabina doesn’t appear to be aware of what’s happening, her eyes absorbed in her phone, thumb moving in distracted swipes. Beside her, even Sam doesn’t seem as upbeat as usual, unusually silent, his hands buried in his pockets.

  Good! They know the stupidity of what they are doing. Maybe I can get them to pull out of it.

  This time, I don’t watch. I trace back from the entrance and confront the idiots.

  “Ernie! What are you doing with these low-lifes?”

  Ernie flushes red, glancing up at me briefly before dropping his eyes back to the ground, embarrassed to have been caught. For a change, Roselyn isn’t willing to meet my stare either. It’s Dom who responds with a greasy smile.

  “I’m glad you decided to join us, Victoria. You can carefully guide us in the right direction and be the overprotective eyes watching us. I mean, you want to make sure your family doesn’t get arrested tonight, right?”

  His smile doesn’t waver in portraying his arrogance, fully aware that he has something to blackmail me with. This isn’t working for me. I decide to try a different angle.

  “Isn’t it a bit early to be here? The sun is still in the sky and Mariana is probably still working.”

  “Thank you, Queen Victoria. I’m glad to see you mastered the art of the obvious before graduating from school,” he responds with heavy sarcasm. “I see we’ll have to change our plans. Let’s still enter now, but instead of running and screaming our way into the building, we can be more subtle.”

  I’m ready to tell him exactly what I could do to make him run and scream and strip that sarcasm from his voice, but he presses on.

  “Tonight, there’s a workshop being held at the base of the building you would have gone to this week. It’s about ways the public can donate their unused power back to United World. Can you believe the bloody nerve of them wanting to control even more?

  It’s open to everyone, so we don’t need permission to be there at this time of day. But I can’t imagine there will be a large turnout. Why would any idiot be interested in having less power for no benefit?

  Sam and Roselyn know where to go with the list to increase the additional meter quotas. If anyone catches them, they can just claim to be lost and looking for the workshop. Ernest, Sabina and I can stand in plain sight in the workshop itself. We’ll wait until the coast is clear, surveilling the area before moving up to the office. Then, Sabina will be on watch while we seize all the crystals Ernest needs for his groundbreaking discovery.

  You’ll be very helpful. You’ll come up with Ernest and me, show us how to get into Mariana’s office quickly, and warn us if the need arises. Should you get caught, just say that you lost your phone in her office yesterday.

  Sounds good? Good.”

  Although his words have every intention of trapping me in this poorly thought-out plan, I clench my lips together tightly and hold my words in.

  “Fine.” If this is what I need to do to protect Ernie, what choice do I have but to stay with him each step of the way?

  The plan is surprisingly well thought out on such short notice. Instead of sneaking across the perimeter in the dark of night, we enter via the main road in plain sight alongside the other attendees. We are underdressed compared to the others.

  The women are wearing impeccably tailored evening dresses, intricate detailing and flowing fabrics shaped to perfection. The men stand in pristine collared shirts, sleeves precisely cuffed, suit trousers neatly pressed, and polished leather shoes buffed to a mirror shine. We shouldn’t stand out too much though. There will surely be others dressed as casually as we are at an event this large.

  Roselyn and Sam branch off mid-walk, targeting their mission to increase power quotas using the new list of meter serial numbers in their phones. Dom takes my sister’s hand in a firm, nerve-calming gesture, giving her a look that says, “You’ve got this”. She grows more secure, returning a slight nod of her head releasing his grip to focus on their task.

  Sam glances at Sabina for the same reassurance, but only receives coldness in response. He seems to realise they are approaching the end of their one-sided relationship and looks more disappointed than hurt.

  He departs after Roselyn, shoulders slumped and steps dragging slightly. A completely different side of him shows itself, the playful edge is gone. There are no spy moves or acrobatics this time.

  The building we reach has an entrance walkway lined with projected lights advertising the event, their brightness extending beyond the path and rising up the glass fa?ade ahead like a sweeping stage spotlight. A looping jingle plays through small speakers along the pathway, complementing the display.

  “Donate Your Power – You Have the Power to Unite Our World”

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  Apart from the power wasted putting all of this together, the event is impressively well presented.

  Dom, Sabina, Ernie, and I pass through the entrance, greeted by the information screen that had interrogated me only the day before. Its illuminated surface brightens in quiet acknowledgement as it speaks to us in familiar words.

  “Hello and welcome to United World’s Oceania Headquarters.

  We have not been able to identify you as a staff member or a registered visitor. Don’t worry. This can happen from time to time.

  What is the purpose of your visit?”

  Dom has prepared our story and shares it with the screen.

  “We want to donate our excess residential power and need to learn how we are able to give it back. We’ll just be sitting with the rest of the attendees if we’re needed.”

  The information screen is quick to respond.

  “Thank you, Dominik Owen, Sabina Kwek, Victoria Pateras, and Ernest Pateras. I have successfully identified you and added you to the list of guests for the evening. Please enjoy your time here at United World.”

  I notice the unease on our faces as we are identified one by one, Ernie’s shoulders stiffening, Sam’s eyes glancing briefly toward the exits. There’s no escaping the fact that we are on-site tonight if anything goes wrong, and we don’t have any power ourselves to donate. Only Dom appears unconcerned.

  “Easy. First obstacle overcome. Let’s pick a spot before we get trapped actually having to stand through hours of boasting about who’s the most ethical. Look at this agenda. It’s practically a night of free food and drinks for these cunts.”

  UNITED WORLD PRESENTS

  DONATE YOUR POWER

  You Have the Power to Unite Our World

  6:45pm – Arrival and Reception

  Live Music: Instrumental Diversity

  Curated entrée canapés are served upon guests’ arrival as the evening commences

  7:00pm – The United World Anthem

  Live Music: Instrumental Diversity featuring Allira Katjeri

  We honour our commitment to life through the United World anthem

  7:05pm – Words of Welcome

  Speaker: Mariana Montoya

  The Director formally welcomes all in attendance and outlines the purpose of the evening

  7:20pm – United World: Service Beyond Self

  Speaker: Walter Reynolds

  A ceremonial presentation highlighting United World’s work in supporting those in need, emphasising unity, responsibility, and shared impact

  7:50pm – Interlude

  Live Music: Instrumental Diversity

  Refined main course canapés are served

  8:05pm – The Call to Donate Power

  Speaker: Bill Collingwood

  A guided address on why donating power is essential to sustaining balance, equity, and progress.

  8:35pm – Interlude

  Live Music: Instrumental Diversity

  Delicately crafted dessert canapés are served

  8:50pm – The Path to Participation

  Speaker: Mariana Montoya

  A structured overview of the registration process to donate power, including the personal fulfilment and civic commitment involved

  9:20pm – Networking

  Drinks, registration, and networking

  Guests are invited to register, connect, and continue the evening in conversation as the session concludes

  Dom’s not wrong. I wonder if it’s all a recruitment trap. People come along for the free food, drinks, and to meet some people of importance, then get pressured to sign up before they leave. It would explain why they can host the entire unticketed event on the ground floor of a building. At least we won’t still be here at the conclusion of the event.

  A server in a fitted dark green vest over a crisp white shirt carries a polished silver platter, the colour identical to the corporate branding around us. He looks us up and down in open judgement, pausing just long enough to assess us before passing by with some of the smallest foods I’ve ever seen. Maybe our clothes are still a bit noticeable. Dom makes sure to corner the next server, obliging them to offer us the canapes. Thin slices of cucumber topped with cream cheese; each crowned with a small prawn.

  He grabs one with each hand, not waiting to finish the first before engulfing the next in his mouth. I’m more refined than he is and take only one, balancing it on the accompanying serviette. Ernie’s eyes light up seeing Dom take more than one cucumber piece, and he takes two himself, much to my disappointment. I can feel him slipping away from me with each step he doesn’t follow my example, steadily eroding my ability to shield him from harm.

  Sabina waves the server away dismissively without eating. I preferred the judgement from the previous server to the look this one gives Sabina. He moves on to the next group, and that’s probably the last we’ll see of him tonight.

  While I finish off nibbling the canapé to make it last, Dom speaks low as he issues his instructions.

  “Follow me. The elevators are closest on the left. I’ll stand by the aisle at the back behind everyone else. Ernest, you and Victoria will be with me, looking for opportunities to pass by unnoticed. Sabina, take a position in front of us on your own, maintaining a clear view so you can act as lookout. The toilets are by the elevators, so you can patrol the area naturally, taking periodic visits to maintain your cover. If any suspicion is raised, blend back into the onlookers and text us immediately.”

  She doesn’t say anything, but seems to understand. Given what I saw last time, she won’t even be aware if something is wrong.

  Dom continues, “From there, we wait until everyone from the top floor is in this room, most likely when the bitch gives her welcome speech. We go up, find the crystal, and slip back down, leaving during one of the breaks.”

  It sounds easier to accomplish than it truly is when he simplifies it like that.

  We all nod in agreement and take our places behind the seated area, weaving between people and avoiding eye contact, as far back left as we can be without appearing conspicuous.

  It’s 6:50pm, only ten minutes until the anthem, and we are awkwardly observing the make-up of people in the room, picking up canapes the rare times a server approaches us. Standing backstage is that uptight vice-president receptionist, Walter Reynolds. He peers out from the side curtain, fingers clasped tightly behind his back, keenly focused on the pianist of the band Instrumental Diversity. I would have thought the refined man would be a perfectionist and clash with Walter’s own ego, but good for us. If he watches the performance that closely each break, he won’t be in our way.

  One of the key guards to the office down. One to go.

  Aside from the grand piano, Instrumental Diversity has an interesting array of instruments playing together in harmony. Go figure with that band name, right?

  The music, Pieces Solve the Puzzle, suits the welcoming of arrivals and light conversation for the introductory part of the event. It began with the grand piano, in light, repeating figures, clean and deliberate to establish a sense of order. Double bass followed the piano with long, grounded tones, and the harp added soft, magical accents, to subconsciously invoke people’s open feelings and make them more vulnerable to donate.

  The violin joins the piece in short, simple bow strokes, threading the melody together rather than taking over the sound. Flute sounds occasionally mirror the violin, airy and delicate, while the saxophone stays low and restrained, appearing only with warm sustained notes to fill the space.

  There is also a drum kit, mostly underused in this opening. Light cymbal brushes and swirls subtly add to the piece in synchronisation with the other instruments, without establishing a noticeable beat. Auxiliary percussion is used sparingly, distant chimes forming another piece of their puzzle. An unused didgeridoo sits on stage, and there’s no singing yet, so I assume there will be even more variety in their later pieces.

  The United World anthem would actually be worth seeing performed live, but with Walter already occupied and Mariana giving the welcome, it will likely serve as our best chance to sneak into her office.

  As I continue to survey the room, I see Bill Collingwood circulating with intent between the front row and stage, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries before the formal agenda kicks off. I can’t make out his wife from here, but his dad William, is already seated, ignoring conversation and likely wishing he was anywhere else. I’m with you on that one old Willie!

  Ah, old Willie. Even in my thoughts, my nerves come out in weird ways. It’s probably not something I should repeat to myself too often. He might be my boss’s father soon. I should be more respectful.

  Between conversations, Bill delicately hunts the room to identify any new targets to grasp in his networking claw. His eyes pass over me, a faint hint of recognition in his expression, though I could be imagining it. Either way, he is deep in conversation with the next well-dressed guest right after farewelling the previous one.

  My view is blocked by a man prowling Sabina in front of us. That does happen to women on their own in these types of places… or anywhere, come to think of it.

  The man looks no older than thirty, hair swept back, carefully groomed, a tailored charcoal suit custom fitted to his body and what seem like shiny new shoes. He hands her a glass of sparkling wine, using it as an excuse to make conversation, his fingers brushing hers as he passes it over.

  I mean, the wine was free. He hasn’t put that much effort in.

  He sets a broad smile on his face, though his eyes remain cold and glassy.

  Sabina accepts the wine like it’s her birthright and, still angled away from him, gives short answers to his predictably boring questions. Unfortunately, he’s here for a challenge, which makes him all the more determined to pursue her.

  I watch the back and forth, intrigued by their unspoken battle, when Dom whispers to me.

  “I really want to embarrass her right now by encouraging the pervert, but I can’t draw attention to us so close to having to separate. It’s such a wasted opportunity.”

  I’m a little bit surprised he has the restraint to hold back like that. He must be really focused on this mission. Speaking of which, Mariana makes her grand entrance from the corridor leading from the lifts. Conversations taper off as she steps into the room, her heels striking the floor in the sudden quiet, authoritative and unhurried. She walks down the aisle past us, shoulders back, eyes forward, and takes her seat at the front beside her high and mighty associates to witness the United World anthem.

  In some ways, I wish we were doing something more impactful than breaking in just to increase a few meters and steal Ernie a toy for his game.

  Dom gives me a rough nudge, confident that Ernie will be attuned to my reaction and adjust accordingly.

  “It’s time,” he announces solemnly.

  He gradually glides out of the assembling audience awaiting the opening anthem, Ernie slinking in behind him. I follow the boys through the passageway in the middle of the floor and past the bathrooms toward the lifts that lead to the top floor.

  The others push ahead with purpose. I consciously glance at the people around us and over my shoulder to see if anyone is paying us more attention than we desire. Luckily, we time it well. Everyone appears to be watching the band prepare themselves until the wall blocks them from our view.

  We stop in front of the elevators just as the anthem begins, allowing us to speak at a low volume without raising suspicion.

  “Ok, genius. Here’s your part. How do we reach the office when these lifts have no buttons?” Dom asks me unfairly.

  “I don’t know. I had to have an appointment and ask the information screen to send me up. Even then, there were no buttons in the lift, so it must have been set to the correct floor,” I reply, irritated.

  “Well, you wanted to come along. Go over to the screen and figure it the fuck out,” he instructs.

  That just bugs me more. How would he have gotten up if I hadn’t come!

  I feel my stubbornness surfacing again.

  “No, you can go…” I stop mid-sentence at the sight of a determined girl walking our way. We are going to be caught in this dead-end corridor!

  Ernie speaks up, trying naively to solve our problem.

  “Maybe the lift door can open another way.”

  He runs his fingers along the metal sides, searching for a hidden override button, then places his palm calmly against the elevator door. It opens like magic.

  Ernie looks as surprised as I imagine I do. Dom doesn’t miss the opportunity, years of evading authorities having trained him well.

  “Quick, get in!” he says.

  Wordless, I grab Ernie’s arm and pull him inside as the door slides shut behind us. Panicking that the doors will simply open again and reveal us to our approaching doom, I think to myself, ok, now what do we do? There are no buttons.

  I’m very thankful when we begin to rise. Even if we only go up one floor, it should be enough to avoid being caught, for now at least. We pass the first floor, then the second, nervously watching the numbers on the wall brighten with each floor we pass.

  “Wow, what a view!” Ernie exclaims.

  Turning away from the door, I see what Ernie is referring to. The deep orange-red sunset washes over Circular Quay harbour, the surrounding buildings and neatly positioned trees glowing in its light. The view past Kirribilli is spectacular. My vision drops to where he is witnessing the few minutes of the day the Opera House is highlighted a burnt desert red.

  It’s nice, but we aren’t here to sightsee.

  “Pay attention to what we are doing, Ernie. We might need to run and hide soon,” I scold.

  He is rightfully ashamed to have been distracted at a dangerous time like this.

  “Sorry, Victoria,” he says sorrowfully, turning his back to the view, his focus now, like mine, on the level numbers.

  The numbers continue to climb, and my hope rises bit by bit. Could this really be going all the way to the top? Are we that lucky?

  It turns out that we can be, for what feels the first time in my life. The doors open wide at the top floor, revealing our next challenge.

  Eying the small cameras already pointed down at us from over the desk at the top, I’m aware we can’t feign ignorance of where we are once we step into the waiting room. After spending most of the day here, I could recall its every detail with my eyes shut if I had to. The cameras at the lift end of the room will also be on us in a moment, pivoting silently once we cross the threshold.

  I outstretch my arm, blocking their exit from the elevator.

  “Shouldn’t we wear face masks, or something to hide our identity?” I whisper to Dom.

  He whispers back hoarsely, “If we look dangerous, security will swarm to us and ruin everything. Walk with confidence. Those stickybeaks will be less suspicious if we act like we belong here.”

  Pushing forward, he brushes my arm aside and marches up the incline toward the curved receptionist’s desk. Without hesitating, he branches off to the right, passing around the desk to search for the button that opens Mariana’s office. I pace closely behind him, certain that the more I try to act casual and confident, the more tense and awkward I appear.

  My eyes scan the desk as Dom and I search for the button. It is well organised, a flat front-facing monitor joined to another glass-covered screen built into the desk. There are no drawers or cupboards in this room. Don’t tell me the button can only be accessed by using this screen as a keyboard, sketchpad or biometric scanner! Wouldn’t that be inconvenient for Mariana if Walter isn’t around?

  The only physical object on the desk is an auto-rotating digital photo frame. It’s also attached to the desk. There can’t be a hidden button underneath. Yet most of the displayed photos are either of Walter himself, of him at award nights with Mariana, or of the Instrumental Diversity pianist. It would be personal enough to hide an entry point.

  Ernie picks up on my focus and cautiously tries moving the frame back like a lever, twisting it, then pushing it down into the desk. There’s an audible click, followed by the sound of the entrance behind us opening. I knew that had to be related in some way!

  Dom is just as pleased. He whispers loudly, “Well done, Ernest!”

  Ernie remains quiet, reacting with a shy, self-assured smile. Ah, I need to teach him that some people like to manipulate others by feeding them rare compliments.

  I have prepared the others for the noisy hallway. We agreed to power-walk through it to reduce the noise as much as possible without raising suspicion by running. Planning to make it through before the drumbeat hits, we have about ten seconds.

  This time, I take the lead, my stride more assertive than in the previous room. I know my purpose here. It’s to avoid the instruments at full volume after the anthem’s vocal intro. I can’t do anything about the added applause effect.

  The song intensifies rapidly as we make our way through.

  “Guiding the flow of life.

  With strength and power.

  One stream.

  One world.

  United.”

  Luckily, none of us dawdle, the others maintaining the pace I set, pulling beside me at the top of the ramp, facing the green-tinted back window, the last glimpse of red light from the sun setting over the horizon of the city. I release my breath in relief, then hold onto the next one. Are we alone up here?

  We pivot to face the room’s interior and find out.

  It’s empty.

  In fact, not just empty. It looks as though it was deserted in a hurry.

  The organisation of the office isn’t what gives it away. There are still desks along both external windows. The area is still spotless and well-arranged. No loose items lie around, and no monitors are twisted out of place. It’s the casual state the place has been left in that screams it out.

  The screens are all still on. I doubt they are even locked, requiring a passcode or identification. More importantly for our mission, both of the side doors to the extended office have been left wide open. That was another unplanned step I was worried about. I never saw how those doors were opened yesterday. How would we get to Ernie’s crystal if they remained locked?

  Now that we have reached our destination, Dom takes back his control of the situation, planting his feet firmly, and lowering his voice so we instinctively lean in.

  “Victoria, stay here as the lookout bitch. Warn us if you see or hear any fuckers coming this way.

  Come on, Ernest.

  When you see what you’re after, stop. I’ll keep going, acting suss to make sure security watches me more closely. When they see that I don’t take anything, they should leave us alone. Just make sure you rearrange the crystals as we planned. That way we cover it up so they don’t notice any are missing.”

  It’s not the time to argue. That is what I agreed to do. I quietly call out the final directions after them.

  “Choose the door on the right. Please be quick!”

  They continue forward before veering right through the door, leaving me panicking on my own. I watch the corridor for anything out of the ordinary, distracting myself from fear with the useless, gloating phrases hovering across its walls.

  United World partners with Air Power Corporation to increase tidal and thermal energy infrastructure

  Mariana Montoya promotes feminism, retaining her maiden name after marriage

  Launched Strategic Emerging Education program to foster the next generation of United World leaders

  A noise jolts my attention back to the beginning of the passageway.

  “Guiding the flow of life.”

  The silhouette of a girl stands before me, her eyes locked on mine, wide open in shock.

  “With strength and power.”

  I return her stare, just as shocked in recognition.

  “One stream.”

  What is she doing here?

  “One world.”

  “Claudia?” I query, my voice high-pitched, softly demanding an explanation.

  “United.”