Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,215

Alouette could barely keep up. “Will that be enough to disable the lock?”

Alouette drew in an unsteady breath. She’d never done this with a clock ticking over her. But she knew there was only one answer to give at this point. Either she did it or the entire plan failed. “Yes.”

Cerise prodded at the TéléCom once more. “Okay. Ready? Go.”

The bottom right square of the grid went dark, and Alouette sprang into motion. Bending down, she studied the locking mechanism secured to the wall next to the door. She pulled up the hem of her shirt to reveal the small selection of tools she’d collected from Cerise’s closet, tucked into a makeshift toolbelt. She reached for the screwdriver first and carefully removed each of the screws on the lock’s outer casing. The plastique panel popped off and her gaze roved quickly over the complicated nest of circuitry inside, while her hands switched out her screwdriver for the small power cell she’d removed from a light fixture in Cerise’s manoir. She’d spent nearly an hour finding one with the perfect voltage and another fifteen minutes attaching a short extension wire to the output.

“Twenty seconds left,” Cerise said beside her.

Alouette carefully maneuvered the power cell into the lock’s circuitry, but her fingers were trembling so badly, the tiny cylinder slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. Crouching down to retrieve it, she reminded herself to breathe, calm down. Her nerves would only cause her to make mistakes. As she tried again, gently guiding the power cell into the lock, she pictured Sister Denise, sitting at her workbench, disassembling Ministère gadgets and soldering circuit boards, always with a delicate but assured hand. She was a woman of very few words. But every time Alouette had watched her break open a device and explore the mechanisms inside, it was like watching poetry in motion. A skilled musician with their favorite instrument.

“Every device has an inherent flaw in its design,” Sister Denise had once told her. “If you search long enough, eventually you’ll find it.”

Sister Denise’s words in her mind filled Alouette with strength and resolve and, more important, steadiness. She slipped the power cell farther into the lock, until she felt an almost infinitesimal spark as the extension wire connected with the circuitboard.

“After analyzing Ministère locks for years, I discovered that if you introduce just the right voltage of power to the circuitboard, it momentarily overloads the system and disables the device.”

A soft hissing sound followed, and the door swept open.

Cerise wasted no time. She grabbed Alouette by the elbow and shuffled her through the door before sealing it shut behind them. Rows upon rows of glowing machines lined the room, each one taller than Alouette and blinking with tiny blue lights. At the center of the pristine white ceiling, amid a complicated grid of vents and fans, a cooling unit hummed.

“Cerise, what’s the status?” Marcellus’s voice suddenly slipped into Alouette’s ear, startling her. She wasn’t used to wearing an audio patch, but Cerise insisted she be able to talk to everyone, so she’d equipped them all with audio patches and TéléComs and set up a multi-channel AirLink that allowed them to communicate.

“We just got into server room 12,” Cerise replied. “I just need to find the right router.” She was already moving through the aisles, her gaze flicking expertly over the shelves before pulling to a decisive halt. Crouching down, she opened her bag and pulled out a small flat contraption, which she promptly affixed to the front of a glowing panel. Cerise’s small device illuminated, its tiny screen flashing erratically. She began tapping on the device, pausing only long enough to hand Alouette her TéléCom. “Take this. Keep an eye on the cams. Warn me if anyone is coming.”

Alouette lowered herself to the ground next to Cerise and kept her eyes locked on the grid of security feeds. She diligently flicked her finger across the screen, revealing more and more chilling views of the Ministère headquarters. Each one sent a shiver of fear through her.

The Ministère had always been an enemy to Alouette. A danger to her way of life and to the precious books she’d sworn to protect. But now, as she stared at the countless rooms and labs and offices, she suddenly saw it—and the threat it posed—with new eyes. Now that she knew the sisters had been more than just guardians of the Forgotten Word, that they had been crusaders trying to fix a broken planet, she