The first week passed quickly.

She was assigned a third tier bunk, on the dorm floor occupied by girls aged ten to seventeen. Every morning was the same routine. She was up at dawn. Then, it was wash, dress, breakfast, drill, Pruessian language and cultural studies, exercise, and lunch. Her shift at the robotics station began right after, and ended past nightfall.

All children in the Kaezer's custody knew what was expected. She had to love the great leader, and learn to be a citizen in his new society. There were ranks to achieve within the education system. As a new recruit, Lily was Nevyet, the Pruessian word for newcomer. Her instructors reinforced the low rank with constant pressure and scorn.

The other girls harassed her just as often. One of them pushed her on the recreation yard, during an afternoon of scheduled exercise.

"You think you're better than us, because you work as a technician." The older girl's voice was derisive. "Better learn your place, runt."

Lily's temper flared. She hated bullies, and Daddy had always taught her to defend herself. She scrambled to her feet, and shoved back. "Better learn some manners, brat."

A collective gasp from the onlookers only fueled the conflict.

The girl swung a fist, and hit Lily in the face.

Lily reeled a moment, but her anger numbed the pain. She rushed her assailant, and threw a punch into the girl's stomach.

Whistles shrieked, and the field attendants broke up the fight. Four drivers arrived as well, to ensure the truce.

Lily and her rival were delivered to Fru Haeveka's office. They sat side by side beneath the tall caretaker's intimidating scrutiny. A domestic robot brought an ice pack for Lily's swollen face.

The office was even messier than the desk in the foyer. Papers and books lay everywhere. Too many monitors and cabinets were crammed together, and the stale odor of cigarettes coated the paneled walls. Carefully framed and centered, a portrait of Hir Kaezer flaunted its precise, famous grin above the clutter.

Fru Haeveka glowered. "Why do you fight when you know it is against the rules, Sprestok Larson?"

The other girl shrugged. "Don't know." She refused to meet eyes with the caretaker.

Fru Haeveka sighed. "This is two counts against you within three months. You will behave accordingly, or you will face the council. Which do you prefer?"

The choice was obvious. No one wanted to be brought to the attention of the council, the ruling power in the camp.

Fru Haeveka dismissed Sprestok Larson, with a warning and a mediocre punishment.

Then she turned to Lily. "Fighting. I had expected better from you, Nevyet Fairpoole. You are highly spoken of by many."

Lily met the caretaker's shrewd gaze. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll contain my temper next time."

"Hm. Very obedient." Fru Haeveka's smile was reserved. "But is this your true conviction? We shall see. One hundred push-ups, and one round. If you fight again, this goes up. I trust you will behave, now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Lily dreaded the mandatory boxing. She wasn't good at it. With her wounded face, it would hurt even more. She was forced to endure a single disciplinary round, with another girl of similar build. She took a beating, but it was over quickly.

Aside from the rigorous classes she was forced to attend, the Kaezer encouraged participation in athletics.

The Pruessians were mad about boxing. Amateur bouts happened all around the camp. She witnessed them often, as she passed between the dorm and the robotics station. They were usually started by bored troopers seeking entertainment.

Most surprising were the robotic matches, which pitted humans against custom-built mechanical opponents. She wondered how someone could win against a robot, which was so much stronger and tougher.

Her shift at the robotics station lasted eight hours. She collapsed into her bunk every night, exhausted. There was no time to herself. It was all work. Aside from that, it was always the Kaezer's propaganda. They bored it into her skull, burned it into her eyes, from every screen and wall.

The enemy possessed great technology, and an ordered society, but it was only the order that Hir Kaezer wanted. There was little innovation. Everything had to either advance the goals of the great leader, or show him praise. If it did neither of those, it was condemned, and quickly forgotten.

In the weeks that followed, she adapted as best she could, and tried not to draw any undue attention. In truth, she thought only of Clarence. Not knowing if he was dead or alive was torture. Perhaps, he'd recovered already, and was struggling to adapt to this new life. She allowed herself to picture it, and it gave her hope.

A month passed, and there was still no word from Ben.

She and Daddy spent an entire afternoon creating detailed charts for Hir Weingert. She was tired, but determined.

After a few hours, she stopped for a drink of water, and leaned against the workbench a moment.

A group of utility robots entered, delivering crates of supplies and parts.

She returned to work, and began to unpack and organize everything.

Hir Zilejager and the others were away, involved in a heated discussion in the side office. Only the drivers stood guard.

She removed a flat of oil canisters, and set it aside.

At the bottom of the crate was a small package, wrapped in brown paper. Scrawled across the front, in hasty drips of ink, was the unmistakable emblem of a fist and star. She hid it inside her sleeve. When she was able, she slipped it into a more secure spot, in the inner pocket of her coveralls.

Barely able to contain her excitement, she crossed the room to Daddy. She came up with a false statement about the job, to preamble her true words, as always.

"Those lines should run more to the left, we just got a message from our friends with the fist and star."

Daddy's eyes widened, and he looked around, to see who was near.

"I've got the supplies unpacked, I don't know what it says yet and I'll wait until it's safe to tell you," she said.

He pressed his lips to a firm line, and merely nodded.

After she retired to her bunk that night, she opened the package. She buried herself under blankets and pillows. Her heart pounded, knowing the item inside was a connection to everything she loved.

It was a wristcom, with the notification light blinking.

She turned it on, lowering the volume with a downward flick through the image.

Ben's face appeared, and she wiped a tear away. She had to stay quiet. She burrowed deeper into her small cave of bedding, and hoped no one noticed her.

"This message must be brief," Ben said. "Clarence is alive, and recovering. He'll be able to join the other youth soon. In this, we have success, and I'm grateful for that. Delia has also arrived safely to the Vestal Coil. We wait for news from her. I'm sending you my wristcom, as it's too difficult for me to keep it here at the infirmary. Hide it well. We have a few operatives in this camp, but the enemy is suspicious. I may not be able to reach you for some time. Don't give up, and watch for our next message."

She turned the wristcom off, and looked around the dorm.

Everyone was asleep, and the orderly was patrolling another floor at that moment.

She wondered where she could hide this incriminating device. It was a miracle that Ben had managed to keep it this long, let alone send it in a supply crate. Perhaps one of his operatives had dropped it there.

A crack in the wall plaster caught her eye. It ran along the corner. She picked at it, and a sizable piece fell off. The wooden slats underneath were revealed, with a convenient crack between them. She hollowed out an area with her fingers, then tucked the wristcom between the boards. When the fallen plaster was replaced, it looked much as it had before. Unless someone was lying on her bunk, and purposely poking around the walls, they'd never find it.

The next day, she waited until the robots stood guard alone. Then, she told Daddy the wonderful news about Clarence and Delia.

Daddy closed his eyes. An expression of profound relief drifted across his face. "Thank you," he said.

The drivers beeped, surveying them.

"Thank you for finishing those lattice connectors," he said, glaring at the meddlesome robots. Then, he winked at Lily. Their secret was still on.

They disassembled and documented Krept within a month, compiling a manual of its constitution. Once it was finished, they put the robot back together, and primed it for further research.

"I have spoken with the council," Hir Zilejager said. "And they have approved our next project. I have petitioned that you both stay on, as your dedication and skill are suitable to my research."

Lily was glad to hear it. As terrible as the camp was, she was with Daddy every day. She was grateful, as things could be worse.