Luckily, I was saved from these thoughts by Sarah and Charlie reentering the apartment. I sat upright to greet them.

"Oh, good, you're home," Sarah immediately said. "I want to form a search party for Nik."

My stomach dropped with guilt as I realized that I hadn't thought about my best friend in hours. "In the morning, you mean?"

"Yeah."

I nodded, glancing down at my folded hands. "Yeah," I agreed slowly. "That would be best."

Sarah smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Claire." She hurried down the hallway before I could respond.

Charlie plopped down on the couch next to me. His bottom lip jutted out in a pout. "You keep going away all the time," he accused sullenly.

I took a deep breath to defend myself before releasing it in a blustery sigh. "Yeah," I agreed. "I know. Soon, though, I'll stop leaving."

Charlie was silent for a moment before asking the dreaded question: "Claire, where do you go?"

I froze. Charlie was a smart kid - if I tried to lie, he'd likely be able to call me out on it.

"Don't worry about it," I assured him instead. Before he could ask other questions, I asked one of my own. "How about I read you some stories?"

Charlie paused and I could practically see his internal conflict. He knew I was attempting to distract him from the larger issue at hand, but he loved stories. Finally, to my relief, he sprang to his feet and pattered over to the bookshelf. I noticed his fingers linger over The Birth of Horizon before moving on.

"We can read that one, Char," I called out.

"This one?" He grabbed the book, glancing back at me with incredulous eyes.

"Yeah." If Sarah could tell tales of our past, then so could I.

Grinning, he brought it over to me. I opened the tablet to the first page and began to read.

"World War III was the most devastating conflict of all time. (Charlie, just stop me if you don't understand something.) It left America in shambles. Rather than try to patch the many holes in the existing government, America started over, this time as a Communist nation. (That's an old form of government, Char.) Five city-states were constructed to house the surviving citizens of what had once been the most powerful country in the world. Those who were detrimental to society - such as murderers, thieves, or predators - were euthanized."

"What's that?" Charlie asked innocently.

I wanted to tell him the truth. No - it was more accurate to say that I felt I owed him the truth. "They...they killed the bad people, Charlie. So that the rest of us could be safe."

"Oh."

I forged onward quickly. "America's new government had seen what freedom did to our people. It corrupted us, destroying our country. So changed were made. Hierarchies were destroyed. (That means that nobody was better than anybody else.) No matter one's occupation, skin color, gender, or sexuality, they were given benefits or punishments based on their actions. Children were limited to two per family to control the population. Finally, true utopia had been constructed." I shut down the book. "That's the end of the introduction."

Charlie was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, "Claire, if Horizon was perfect...why did we change it?"

I sighed, phrasing my response carefully. "Some people didn't think it was perfect," I explained. "Some people thought that the government was controlling us through pills we used to take - Horizon Pills. Everyone had to take them. They kept us from getting sick - in the body or the head."

"Oh." Charlie stared into the distance, processing. I watched him worriedly - had I told him too much?

"So these people ruined it for everyone else?" he suddenly asked. There was no malice in his voice but his words took me aback all the same.

"Yes. They attacked the government and took over but they didn't know what they were doing."

"Would we still have a mom and a dad if they hadn't done that?"

A wave of sorrow washed over me. "Yes," I muttered. "Yes, we would."

"Oh." Charlie's small face screwed up in anger. "I hate them!"

I pursed my lips but did not reprimand him for the use of the word. How could I, when I agreed so wholeheartedly?

"I think we've read enough for today," I decided, standing and replacing the book.

"Thank you for reading it to me," Charlie told me, his voice strangely sincere for a child his age.

"Of course," I replied instinctively. What else could I say? You're welcome I'm showing you how horrible our world is?

*

The next morning, after breakfast, Sarah and I began gathering a search party.

Almost everyone we asked, unless they were taking care of children, agreed. I dropped Charlie off with the household that acted as a daycare to ensure that he would have supervision as well as amusement.

When I asked someone for the time, my stomach dropped dejectedly. It was too late in the morning - there was no way we would be able to find Nik in time for me to make it to lunch with Evie.

Nik's more important, I told myself firmly.

I returned to the apartment on the pretenses that I had to use the bathroom and retrieved the comm from its hiding place. Opening my conversation with Evie, I typed out, I'm going to be late to lunch. I may not make it.

It took her longer than usual to respond, but she finally did: OK. I'll wait anyway, just in case.

Thanks. I shut off the comm and replaced it beneath the sink. Then I returned to the search party.

"Okay," Sarah called out once we were all accounted for. "We're going to spread out across the city. Avoid the ground."

Just as she was about to assign duties, we heard a shout. We all turned to see a boy several rooftops away, dashing towards us.

"Hey!" he yelled again. I shifted uncomfortably. The urgency in his voice - and the fact that I failed to recognize him even as he grew closer - set my nerves on edge.

Finally, he pulled to a stop in front of our group, panting slightly. He looked a bit younger than us and I was certain I had never seen him before.

"Tool check," I demanded before he could say anything.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Tool check." I gestured to the hem of his shirt expectantly. "I'm waiting."

The boy hesitantly lifted the bottom of the shirt to reveal that his pants were Tool-free.

"Okay. Now, who the hell are you?" I stared at him, gaze unforgiving.

"I'm here to deliver a message."

"You're not from Rooftop."

"No. Didn't know you guys even existed till 'bout an hour ago."

"Start talking." I crossed my arms."

"I was going to visit my dad in the prison - 'cept they don't allow visitors anymore so I had to talk to Dad through his cell window, and he told he that he had a new cellmate. Kid by the name 'a Nik?"

Sarah gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. I felt as though I had been punched in the gut. Nik, in jail? Our Nik?

My Nik?