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At the mention of our family, my father tensed. “They have nothing to do with this. They knew nothing of the plan.”

“They knew whatever I say they knew,” Julius replied, his tone cutting. “That’s what you don’t understand, Ainsley: you are an ant living in my anthill.” He withdrew a piece of paper from his clipboard. “And like an ant, you can be crushed in an instant. Your children, too. I will crush them.”

My father’s spine was suddenly ramrod straight, though his expression didn’t change. Love and helpless anger surged through me at the realization that he’d never been afraid until now—until Julius had mentioned me and Holly.

“What do you want?” my father asked grimly.

Julius smirked. “Who says I want anything?”

“Your kind always want something,” my father replied. “Leave my girls alone, and you can have whatever you want.”

Julius paused, as if deliberating, but then said, “I want you to beg.”

My girls. Tears welled and slipped down my cheeks. All the while, the other people in the room did nothing. My father’s guards stood, stoic and unmoved, at his side. The people at the consoles deliberately focused on the screens in front of them. None made a sound, and it was horrifying.

My father gritted his teeth, but then murmured, “Please. Please don’t hurt my girls. It’s not them you want. You’re already making them fatherless. Don’t make them suffer even more. They’re just kids.”

Julius paced the room. “Kids of a man who tried to bring down everything I have worked for, for decades. That’s why I’ve arranged for your execution to be here, where you can experience the Lifeline machine…up close and personal.”

It felt like my heart was beating a bruise against my ribs. The Lifeline machine. I’d never heard of such a thing, nor did I have any inkling as to its purpose…but if it was part of the secret my father had mentioned, it couldn’t be anything good.

My skin prickled with sudden awareness, and I paused the video to cast wildly around the room. I waited for a moment, tensed and poised to flee, but the archives remained dark and silent. I let out a long breath and started the video again.

Julius depressed a button on the pillar between the two silver pods, and with a brief hiss, the one nearest to my father opened. There was nothing inside except a tangle of thin wires with white patches on the end.

“This is evil,” my father said, and fear had crept into his voice at the sight of the open pod. “We agreed to move into the compounds because we would be safe. But you’ve treated them as your own little science experiment. Do you fear death that much, Julius? Are you that much of a coward?”

For the first time, Julius’s eyes flashed with anger, and he reached out and struck my father across the face as I cried out.

“You get to be the science experiment today, Major-General,” Julius said brightly, and I felt sick. His voice lowered as he ordered the two guards, “Get him into the pod.”

My father offered no resistance to them as they helped him inside; he knew it was useless. The two scientists at the consoles rushed forward to attach the wires to his body, then moved to close the pod. The last view of my father was his stoic expression, one that didn’t reach his eyes. His pain and regret tore my heart wide open.

“Proceed.” Julius nodded at the scientists, who’d gone back to the consoles. Keyboards clicked, and the Lifeline machine whirred to life. The screen on the centre pillar displayed, in big green letters, READY TO HARVEST. Lights flashed on and off on the machine, and a string of data streamed down the screen. There was no sound other than the machine whirring. No one spoke. Even removed from the scene, it felt as though everyone was collectively holding their breath.

A couple of minutes passed before the machine gave a low groan, and then the whirring stopped. The screen on the central pillar popped up with a message that asked, DEPLOY? One of the scientists must’ve remotely pressed yes, because the whirring began again, then cut off after another minute. The pod then hissed again as it opened, and for a moment, there was nothing but awful silence.

Whoever was operating the camera—which until now had been stationary—zoomed in on the pod. My father’s face was pale, his eyes half-closed, his body limp. I knew immediately that he was dead, and a high-pitched shriek pierced the air. It took me a second to realize it was me, that I was sobbing and screaming and clawing at myself, as though desperate to escape my own skin.

I still didn’t understand what they had done to him, or why they had done it. No one needed a machine like that simply to kill people. It was only when Julius stepped toward the central pillar that I noticed that the four syringes in the hollow compartment were now full of a strange, silvery liquid. It was then that I understood: they had somehow harvested that substance—whatever it was—from him.

“A successful harvest,” Julius said, confirming my theory. “We’re finished here. Bring the body to the crematorium.”

The video ended, and I stared at the screen, unable to process what I’d seen. I took a deep, steadying breath and tried desperately to calm down. My thoughts were racing.

Wait for the answer you need, Holly’s letter had said. I wondered if this was what she’d meant, and if John had already seen this video. But what purpose did she have in helping me? Did she think that the knowledge would help topple Julius’s reign?

It would, I thought immediately. If they’ve been sacrificing people to harvest…whatever this is, then it would topple anyone.

I went back to hunting through files that mentioned my father, and after scouring through many irrelevant references, I came upon something that floored me: scans of his handwritten journal. According to the file, it had been collected as evidence in the case against him.

I retrieved the flash drive from my bag and began the process of copying everything I could, including the journal entries. When I left the archives, it was still dark, and I managed to dodge the nighttime patrols on the streets and make it back into the master suite at the Mayor’s house.

Major Hamilton was still snoring when I returned to the security desk and deleted the video surveillance of my night, working numbly, robotically—the only way I could after all I’d learned.

Dawn would bring further clarity, and I dreaded its arrival.

Chapter 23