We were running out of time.

With the number of available days dwindling, I had none left to waste – so I was back moving the following morning. I got to school ridiculously early, when the corridors were still empty and quiet footsteps seemed to echo from one end to another. If there were other people in the building, they were hiding away. Hiding away from the crazed blonde student, searching the school with a fine-tooth comb, maybe? Or perhaps just backed up in traffic, totally unaware of my desperation. Either way, there was no time to think about it. I only had one thing on my mind.

I had to find Jace.

It seemed like this was the way I spent all my waking hours nowadays: trying to locate the guy I pinned my hopes on, thinking once again he might be the brain that slotted all the pieces together. He had, of course, told me not to think like that. But in a situation like this, it was difficult to stop.

I lingered desperately around all the spots he might be. Even as the clock inched closer to first bell, and masses of students began to fill the surrounding corridors, I couldn't stop peering over the sea of heads in the hope of catching a glimpse of those thick-framed glasses. He had to be here somewhere.

Classes began, but I skipped history altogether in favour of more time spent roaming the halls. Passing students gave me odd looks, and I did briefly wonder if I was drawing more attention to myself than was wise. Things would be easier if I laid low. But when Jace continued with his consistent knack for eluding me, what other choice did I have?

Panic started to rise as noon rolled around. Lunch was fast approaching, and there'd still been no sign of him, despite all the time I'd spent hanging around the student council office door. That had been my safest bet, and what I thought was his spot of solitude in a bustling college. But hours had passed, and it seemed this was not what Jace was seeking today.

Trying the library was a decision spawned from dwindling options. I'd barely set foot in there myself, even though I was hardly still considered a new student. The college's collection of books had been stacked in one of the central ground floor rooms, with high ceilings reminiscent of the old architecture. Bookshelves were lined closely to form narrow aisles, most top shelves out of reach of even the tallest students. In its every aspect, the room had an unshakeable feel of not having enough space. It was a far cry from the spacious, book-filled haven of KHA, where it seemed possible to get lost for days among the shelves.

In the middle of class, the place was deserted. A librarian re-shelved books from a trolley in the corner, while a few other students milled around between aisles. Everything pointed toward staying silent, but this was difficult when ancient floorboards creaked deafeningly beneath my feet.

I wasn't expecting to find him here; it was more a precautionary check than anything else. And yet as I ducked down the aisle that housed a slightly sad selection of Modern Humanity books, I was in for a surprise.

My intake of breath ended up sounding more like a gasp, and I raised a hand to my mouth to stifle a noise that had already escaped. In the same moment, Jace's eyes met mine between the dusty shelves.

"You're here," I breathed, out of relief more than anything else. Then, "Why are you here?"

I then noticed the leather-bound book in his hand: Artificial Evolution in the Twenty-Third Century. The type of typical reference for any Modern Humanity Class. "I was... doing some research," he said, but under my gaze he reached up to slot the book back in its place. "I don't know. I thought I might be able to find something useful, some tiny detail that might help... I know it's dumb. I just wanted to feel like I was doing something."

Footsteps in a nearby aisle jolted me, and I remembered where we were. "We need to talk."

"Okay," he said quietly. "What about?"

More footsteps, closer now, and though they probably belonged to a totally innocent student, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just an open range for being overheard. "Not here," I whispered. "Outside."

Jace glanced over his shoulder, suddenly making eye contact with a face that had appeared between a gap in the books. He quickly looked back toward me. "Good idea."

We stepped out of the library with me in the lead. It felt weird to walk ahead of Jace, to feel like the one in control, though I knew the roles were reversed in the grand scheme of things. His footsteps were not supposed to fall in the shadow of mine. And yet as I headed for one of the stairwells at the side of the building, which I knew opened up to side exits, this was how it happened.

Inside the stairwell was cold, but things got worse once I'd pulled open the door on the exterior wall of the building. It emerged on the edge of the car park, with the college gates in view, traffic crawling by on the adjacent road. Jace shivered.

"Everything okay?" he asked, but we'd both worked out the answer from the unspoken atmosphere between us.

"I found out something," I said, not knowing how else to begin. "From my friend Orla. You know her?"

He paused, mentally turning the name over for a couple of seconds. "As in Shields? The mayor's kid?"

"Yeah," I said. "She's my best friend. She came to me with something her mum mentioned, and, well... it's helpful, but it also seems like it could be a really, really bad sign."

"Okay." Jace sounded wary. "What is it?"

I took a deep breath, wondering how best to explain it. "We take sick days," I said eventually, waiting for the confusion to cross his face. And it did, after a couple of seconds. "To make sure the school records don't look suspicious, everybody has to do their part. A few days off, here and there."

"Hold on," he said, frowning, "you don't ever get sick?"

"No, but that's not the point," I interjected. "The thirtieth. All sick days have been retracted. Every student has to be there."

The realisation was creeping onto his face – slowly but surely. When he voiced his next thought, it sounded like he hardly dared to ask. "Why? What happens on that day?"

"Some kind of ceremony. A prize-giving assembly. Where every student of the academy will be sat in the same room at the same time."

I watched the colour drain from Jace's already pale face, knowing it had nothing to do with the cold. The mere implication of my words was enough to send an icy chill down both our spines.

"And here's the thing," I said, after the pause had stretched too long for me to bear. "It's not one hundred per cent fact-checked, but I think there's a real possibility. The government seem confident that those who have nothing to hide will be okay. I wish we didn't even have to consider this, but... I think it could be a biological weapon."

I expected Jace to take a while to mull it over, but the breathy word escaped him almost instantly. "No."

"No?" I echoed. "What do you mean?"

"It can't be..." he said. I could almost see him retreating, stepping back into his own head, inching further away from me. Then his gaze snapped back, and the newfound intensity I found myself under felt that much worse. "Do you realise what you're saying? Are you suggesting my dad would use a biological weapon to potentially wipe out hundreds of kids?"

"I'm not suggesting it like it's a family insult, Jace," I said, and even in the tone I could hear my patience running thin. "I'm looking at the facts, and I'm looking at the direction they're pointing in."

"No." He shook his head vehemently. "He wouldn't."

"And do you know that?"

"He's my dad," he said, as a spark of anger ignited in his dark eyes. "Am I not allowed to have confidence in that alone?"

The atmosphere seemed to shift between us, like I'd found myself with new breathing space by pushing him backward. Or perhaps that was the physical step I'd taken, breaching the line between us in more ways than one. "I don't care if you're joined at the hip," I said. "Family ties mean nothing here. You know that. What we're dealing with goes way beyond blood – and I'm not going to gloss over hard evidence to avoid stepping on your toes."

It all came out more forcefully than I'd expected, which surprised me – let alone Jace. The expression that flickered across his features was like nothing I'd seen on him before. If I didn't know better... I might even say he looked scared of me.

For what felt like a long while, he didn't say anything. We both froze in our own moment, and the only confirmation time itself hadn't stopped came in the rise and fall of both our chests. He was calculating his next move. I would've been too – if I had the faintest idea about what was coming next.

When his words eventually came, they were so quiet I could barely make them out against the background traffic. "What if you're wrong?"

It wasn't what I'd been expecting, and when my mouth opened instinctively to give an answer, the words seemed to get lost along the way. "I..."

"You call it hard evidence," he said, "but is it? How are you so sure about this?"

"It's the best evidence we have right now," I told him. "You can't deny that. Before this, we were flailing, and you know it. Whatever plan we thought we had wasn't based on anything. This could be it."

"But he wouldn't..." The words sounded like they were meant more for him than anything. "Even if he wanted to, is it even possible? I mean, I know they had a lot of funding, but surely they wouldn't have the technology..."

"It's scientifically possible, though, isn't it?" I stared up at him, determined to remain unfazed by the fear in his eyes. As long as the balance tipped in my favour, it felt like I was in control. Whether my perception rang true in the real world was a whole other matter. "Modification leaves marks. It's not fool proof – that's how they're catching people in the first place. Why couldn't they create something that would target those marks?"

He swallowed, and I watched the shaky movement of his Adam's apple, knowing the realisation was starting to sink in. Then, I saw something different: a sudden flicker of panic, like a lightbulb moment of the most sinister kind.

My heart jolted, like a precautionary measure. "What?"

"No..." he breathed, suddenly glazed eyes darting away, before arriving back on mine with a newfound intensity. "It is possible. And if what I'm thinking of is right... he's got the technology to do it."

Pounding – that was the only way to describe the pace of my heart now. Throwing itself at my ribcage like the only thing it wanted was to escape. Kind of a painfully accurate metaphor. "How do you know?"

"It makes sense," he said, reaching up to run a shaky hand through his hair. Once again, my gaze caught on the tiny mark on his wrist, that darkened patch of skin so perfectly round it almost looked like a tattoo. But he always moved too quickly, letting it fall back to his side within seconds, so there was no time to look closer. Just another thing where the answer lay in time we didn't have. "A couple of months back. He started talking about all these... investments. All this funding that was being directed to a couple of labs. Some new area of research."

I swallowed. "What kind of research?"

"I don't know." He sounded worried now, like his lack of clear knowledge made him want to kick himself. "I didn't pay much attention at the time. He'd come home talking about projects like that most days, and I learnt how to switch off. But thinking back... it was more than that. The figures seemed off at the time. That sort of funding had never gone into one lab before. They were obviously working on something significant."

I could hardly bring myself to say it. "A weapon."

Each time I thought I'd never seen him look so scared, his expression seemed to shift, and just like that he'd top it. He was gnawing on his bottom lip so hard I could see the blood being drawn to the surface. "Potentially."

"He must've said more," I said desperately. "What else is there?"

"I–I don't know. Like I said, I never paid much attention. It was just work – he doesn't know how to talk about anything else. New lab, funding stream, whatever. Most of it went in one ear and out the other."

"Think," I said, and though I tried to keep it out, frustration still managed to seep through. How could he give me an inch and not expect me to chase after the mile? Pieces of information were worth nothing without the thread that linked them together. And it was just a case of memory. If he could just think a little harder, remember those tiny details, we could run with it. For someone who'd never forgotten a thing in their life, it was a painful obstacle to have standing in our way. "Come on, Jace. There's got to be more."

"That's all I know." If I didn't know better, I might've said he sounded close to tears. And there was something painful about the break in the voice of the nation. "I swear, Astrid, if I could give you more, I would."

I almost wanted to tear my hair out in frustration. In that last couple of minutes, we'd broken into a sprint, heaving breaths under the illusion we were about to take the lead. And yet as quick as the energy had found us, it had disappeared again, and with the sudden loss of momentum we were about to land in a crumpled heap. We had to keep moving.

"So where is it?" I asked, letting the rushed exhale take away some of my frustration. "The lab where all this cash is going. Out in the sticks somewhere, presumably, where nobody's going to stumble across them by accident?"

He paused, gaze evenly scanning my face like some kind of security measure. "Not exactly. It's at the university."

I stopped. "You mean...?"

The words hadn't escaped me, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. Inside UNL."

My heart leapt, but I couldn't work out what exactly was behind it: optimism, or perhaps just a sinister realisation that things couldn't be so simple? Either way, I didn't have the time to look back. "That's like ten miles from here," I said, though this was hardly new information to Jace. "All we need is to get in."

"No, it's not." The sudden contradiction seemed to bring me crashing back to Earth. "Look, Astrid – say, by the stroke of some miracle, we get in without being caught. Then what? How are we supposed to stop this from happening? We're not talking about a plan in its early stages. This is something poised to happen, in days' time, which the entire government is behind. How are we supposed to fight that?"

"I don't know," I said, "but anything we can do is better than sitting around waiting, right? Whatever we uncover there, we don't have to physically stop. All we need to do is expose it. Get whatever we can into the public domain, make sure the rest of the city sees it. Or maybe we just hand it over to BioPlus and let them do the talking. Think about it, Jace. Even diehard BioNeutral supporters aren't going to get behind the culling of five hundred kids."

He was chewing on his lip again, thinking about it, and I had to take the lack of protest as a good sign in itself. "I guess you're right."

"I don't know if I'm right," I said, with slightly more brutal honesty than I was used to. "This could be the stupidest idea in the world, and completely the wrong way to go about achieving anything. But it also could save five hundred lives. And for me, that's a risk I'm willing to take."

He was staring at me, with such unwavering focus that it started to feel like I was under a spotlight. Each time I thought I might have mastered the many looks of Jace Snowdon, he hit me with another one, and I was back to square one. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, and yet couldn't quite muster the courage to let the words leave his head.

"You are right," he said eventually. "And I want to take the risk too."

"Then we're on the same page." As I held his gaze, I wondered why this didn't feel like a relief. "Which brings us to the next problem: we need a way in."

A small pause. "Well..." he said. "I kind of already have one."

My glance turned questioning. "You do? How?"

"Tomorrow night," he said. "My dad's giving a public lecture – BioNeutral sponsored, on the ethics of genetic modification."

"He is?" I could barely believe our luck. Didn't seem a little too convenient, a step past luck into perfect construction? And yet maybe the date had sat unnoticed in the calendar for months, while my mind had been set on everything else.

"I'll already be in," he said. "We just need to figure out how you can do the same."

"Well, it's a public lecture, isn't it? Surely I can just walk in?"

"You can..." He'd started chewing on his lip again, and the visible nerves were hardly working wonders to convince me. "That alone is risky, though. I'd like to assume my dad's never seen your face, but I wouldn't stake our lives on it. We need to be more careful."

"Then I will be more careful. I'll disguise myself."

"Like how?"

"I don't know," I said, "but I'll think of something. Some kind of headscarf, coloured contacts, whatever. All I need is to get past security at the door, there's the first hurdle cleared. And one hurdle is better than none."

For a while, he didn't say anything, and I could tell my words were echoing round and round his head. There was more weight to them than my tone suggested, of course. We talked about these plans like they were figments of our imagination, plots of a book we were working on – not something that broke so many laws they could get us murdered at the hands of a ruthless government. Then again, maybe that was the better option. If detachment was the source of our courage, it made no sense to change.

When Jace did finally speak, the words weren't what I'd anticipated. "I just can't believe it..." he said, barely breaking out of a whisper. "I can't believe he could be planning something like this."

"I know."

"It's just evil." It broke through like a bullet, but even that couldn't be as difficult to look at as the pain written all over his face. My gaze alone felt like an intrusion. "My dad, he's pure evil... and it leaves me wondering what that makes me."

I shook my head. "It doesn't make you anything."

"I'm half him," he said, edged by an undertone of disgust. "Half a murderer."

"No, you're not." The statement came out of me before I had time to think about it, and so vehemently I surprised myself. There was something about the look in Jace's eyes – a silent battle behind the scenes – that had me reaching for his hands and grabbing them tight. The move, if anything, served to distracted him for a second. "You can't think like that. The decisions your dad makes don't represent you, and you're not him. You're your own person, defined by your own choices. And you're trying to stop this. You're doing everything in your power to stop this happening, and that's what speaks volumes."

Silence fell once the words had escaped me. Or at least silence in our little bubble, since the traffic continued to rush past, unaffected by the shockwaves of our conversation. An icy wind whipped around us, nipping at exposed skin, any tiny patch it could get to. But I could barely feel it. To me, in that moment, all that mattered was the exact meaning of Jace's gaze on mine, and which accompanying words were running through his mind.

"We're going to do this," he said eventually, with a new note of determination that had a relieved smile breaking out across my face. "I don't care what the risks are. Even if it kills me... I'm going to stop him."

"Well," I said, with a small acknowledging nod in his direction, "you don't have long to wait."

--------------------

I tweeted excitedly yesterday that I was putting the broken pieces of my plot together. And I think I am! Suddenly, things fell into place, and I know where I'm heading for this story (book 1, at least...)

Exciting things are about to happen. That's probably obvious. And I'm excited to write them, like you're (hopefully) excited to read them!

Until next time...

- Leigh