to gather a fair number of troops to face the rebels in a direct fight like this,” Austin continues. “But it will take time to mobilize that many and get them in place. And unless we want the High Council questioning how I knew about this attack, I won’t be able to deploy anyone until the military’s surveillance equipment picks up the rebels’ advance Outside. I can adjust the patrols so our Watchers will find them faster than on their current schedule, but we’ll still need time.”
“What are you proposing?” I ask. The way Austin laid out his concerns gives me the feeling he already has something in mind to counteract the military’s dilemma. Something I likely won’t approve of.
“The Order could stall for time,” Austin says. He watches for my reaction, his presence radiating caution. “You know the path the rebels will take to the sector. You could ambush them, hold them there until my forces arrive.”
“The Order isn’t a militarized group,” I say at the same time Lai, listening in to my thoughts, chimes in with, That’s ridiculous. Since tonight’s discussion is such an important one, she’s tuning in to make sure all goes well. We’re not an army. I’m not going to risk our members like that.
“I’m aware,” Austin says. For a heartbeat, I think he’s responding to Lai, but then I realize he’s speaking to me. Of course. Since Lai promised Austin she would never use her gift on him when he adopted her, she can’t speak with him telepathically.
“If you know that, then why would you suggest we send our members to such a large-scale battle?” I ask. “I see no reason for us to risk our members’ lives for this.”
Small, efficient counterstrikes to stop the rebels’ raids with our best fighters is one thing. Facing the rebels head-on is quite another. For the last two months, we’ve been trading info on the aboveground rebel bases’ locations with Austin in exchange for weapons and equipment. The military—better equipped to deal with more serious battles—has been steadily taking them out, much to the general public’s relief and Austin’s credit. These are small victories, judging by what Lai heard from Erik about the rebels conducting their most important business underground. However, we haven’t told Austin that. The aboveground base locations are an essential bargaining chip. We can’t afford to lose the one thing we can offer the military, and Austin has never asked us for more—until now. Why is he suddenly changing things?
“Not even to protect the sector and the Order?” Austin asks. He raises a single eyebrow. Beside the general’s messy desk, Noah glances between the two of us, his presence wavering with uncertainty. “If the military can’t intercept the rebels in time, it could mean a terrible loss for the sector. Worst-case scenario, the rebels damage the dome and the air Outside would kill all Etioles in Sector Eight within minutes.” I say nothing. “Or, if you prefer, I could have our troops ready to meet the rebels exactly on time. However, when the Council asks how I knew they’d be coming, I may have to reveal my source of information.”
He doesn’t have to spell it out. If the Councilors find out about the Order, there’s not a doubt in either of our minds they’ll attempt to either destroy or manipulate us. They’re already angered by our presence, as the public’s approval of us extends much further than for them. Austin is giving me an ultimatum.
Lai? Are you there?
I’m here. There’s a long pause before she continues, but I know what she’ll say. Tell him we’ll do it. But he better get his soldiers there fast. We’ll buy him twenty minutes, max, and then we’re pulling out.
I relay her decision to Austin and he smiles thinly. “Twenty minutes will be more than enough,” Austin says. “If you can exhaust their forces, there should be less loss on our side, too.”
A plan that’s much more advantageous for the military than the Order—especially since the Council will likely claim this victory as entirely its own. However, if this arrangement can protect the sector from harm and the Order from discovery, we don’t have much choice in the matter.
“I’m sorry to say, but I do have a meeting to get to,” Austin says. He stands from his desk, nearly toppling a stack of coffee-stained mugs that Noah just barely manages to catch in time. “I hadn’t anticipated you coming tonight.”
“A meeting this late?” I ask.
“War doesn’t care about