"What?" I spit out the question. No time to filter my shock. I didn't know that Harry had a brother, never mind one who was a Luddite.

A Luddite. A fucking Luddite!

"He'd never mentioned me?" Eli asks, a hint of a smile peeking out under his overgrown mustache, but not quite meeting his chestnut-brown eyes.

I shake my head slowly and study his face. It's slimmer than Harry's, but now that I'm looking for it, I can see the family resemblance. They have the same coloring. The same square-tipped nose. He's taller and broader than Harry, though. A benefit of being born in a body that already knows it's male.

Then I look at Christopher, who is still standing next to me, unaffected by being so close to a terrorist.

Harry hated the Luddites.

He was so angry when he learned about an alliance between the Queer Rebels and the Luddites. Had called it bullshit. Yet his own brother was one? I can't wrap my mind around it.

Was his distrust of the Luddites personal? I always assumed it was just philosophical. Their anti-tech stance when technology had saved his life. Allowed him to become himself.

We never discussed his past. His family. Where he came from.

"Was Harry ever a Luddite?" I ask, trying to put the pieces together.

"No," Christopher answers firmly, brows knitted and head shaking. "No, no, no."

"I'll try not to take any offense to your tone," Eli says, still wearing a casual smile. Then he looks at me. "Harry and I escaped the city around the same time, but separately. And, for different reasons. Obviously."

A gust of wind stirs up some loose dirt next to the dumpster and I shove my right hand–my uninjured one–into my jacket pocket.

"Okay, what's going on?" I ask, my eyes shifting between the two men. "Why did you wake me up and bring me out here?"

Immediately, Christopher answers, "Eli has a plan for you two to rescue Harry."

"The two of us?" My eyes narrow.

I just met this guy. I don't care if he is Harry's brother, he's a Luddite. That makes him untrustworthy. Dangerous.

If I'd agreed to rescue Harry–which I have not–I'd rather go with anyone else. Even Jenelle. She might not be my favorite person, but I trust her. Know that when push comes to shove, she'd have my back.

"If I could do it alone, I would," Eli says with a shrug.

That doesn't reassure me.

I shake my head. I have to stop letting other people make choices for me. This crosses too many lines. There is no way that I am sneaking back into the city with a damned Luddite. I don't care.

"No," I say, the word only a whisper. "No," I repeat, louder.

I don't wait for a response. In one swift motion, I turn on my heel and walk out of the gate.

I am half-way down the walkway that leads back to the front of the building when footsteps pound behind me.

"I can't do it, Christopher," I say without stopping, without turning my head.

A hand taps my shoulder. "Just hear me out."

Not Christoper's voice.

Eli's.

I shrug away from his touch and turn. "Why should I?" I stop and turn to face him.

Eli stands back, his legs spread and shoulders slouched, which makes him closer to my height. His earlier smile is gone.

"This..." He looks up at the sky–which is turning a soft hue of pink–and takes a deep breath through his nose. When he exhales, he continues, "this is my fault."

"What is?" I ask, not sure why I'm giving him the time to explain. Not sure why I'm not already back in my cot, shoes kicked off, trying to get another hour or two of sleep.

"The bomb," he says, then bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. Then he wipes one eye with the heel of his palm.

"The bomb?" I echo his words as realization settles. "You gave Harry the bomb?"

He doesn't answer. Just nods.

Over Eli's shoulder, I notice Christopher has stepped through the gate, but is giving us room to talk.

"And you told him it was just glitter?" Anger laces my words. "You could've gotten us both killed! And–and you killed a girl. Her blood is on your hands."

As if to verify my words, he holds out his calloused palms and looks down at them.

"This isn't an excuse, but there was a mixup. I really did mean to give him a dummy. Just glitter. Like he asked." Eli's glassy eyes dart up to meet mine. "You don't have to believe me, but that's the truth."

"A mixup?" I cough out the words, a sick bubble of laughter escaping my throat.

"I'm not a bomb maker," Eli says, palms still out. "I'm a farmer. And I trusted the wrong person."

"Farmer?" I remember something Alex told me about the farms having autonomy, but I didn't realize they were run by the Luddites. Would the Luddites sell food to feed Dimstad's citizens and then take those profits to build weapons to use against those very same people?

"My community... We're self-sufficient. We have our own fields," Eli responds, answering my silent question: No, they aren't the farmers who sell food to us. "And I swear I didn't mean for this to happen to my brother."

The way he says it, the pathetic look on his face, I believe him. Believe that this was a mistake. But I still don't understand why he needs me. Harry was captured a week ago. How long has he been formulating his plan? Have he and Christopher been communicating this whole time? If so, why am I suddenly so crucial?

I stare into Eli's eyes, ones that are so similar to Harry's. See the guilt written across them. But, I don't feel guilty.

Do I?

I barely escaped with my life.

It's not my fault that Harry got stopped.

Christopher shifts positions against the fence, drawing my attention. I can feel his intense stare across the yards that separate us.

Maybe I should at least hear Eli out. I can do that.

"What's the plan?" I ask, my words reluctant.

"You know what tomorrow is?" Eli answers my question with one of his own.

I narrow my eyes, thinking. Things have been so hectic, I can barely keep track of the days of the week, nevermind the date.

But then it dawns on me. It's the anniversary of Olek's rise to power.

Eli sees the realization on my face. "Unity Day," he confirms. "There is going to be a parade downtown."

But I don't understand how that is helpful. "There'll be even more guards than usual. Between the protest yesterday and the celebration tomorrow, the show of force will be overwhelming."

Eli shakes his head. "What you don't understand is that there will also be more maintenance workers."

"So?"

"So there will be a bunch of guys working together who don't normally interact. Shifts will all be messed up." Eli raises his eyebrows.

I nod slowly, still not following. "Okay, but what does that have to do with helping Harry?"

"We'll disguise ourselves as maintenance workers."

The sun is now high enough in the sky that the pink hues have given way to brilliant blue. Beyond the long shadows, streaks of golden sunlight glint off the asphalt in front of the hideout.

I search the rays of sun for a response, but I don't know what to say.

This sounds too risky. Half-baked at best. And if Eli is a Luddite, does that mean he expects us to do this without technology? To show our faces? Even if we blend in with the crowd, how does he expect to get past security? To gain access to a holding cell?

Eli mistakes my silence as agreement.

"But there are still details to work out," he admits. "For one, we don't know where Harry is. At least, not exactly. There are only a few buildings where he could be, but for this to work, we need to know what floor he's on. Or, even better, which cell?"

"And how do you expect me to help with that?" I ask.

But then, as if on cue, I feel the com-device in my pocket vibrate.

Eli must hear the buzz, because he doesn't answer me. He just shrugs and gives my pocket a pointed look.

After a beat, I reach into my pocket and pull out the com-device.

I turn my back to Eli as I read the message. Marcy is just asking me how I slept.

I tap on the text icon to call up the keyboard: not as well as i wouldve liked

After a moment, a new message appears: Because of the interruption last night?

I stare down at the keyboard and wonder how I'll be able to type out everything that happened. It will take me forever.

Instead, I tap out: can u call that would be easier

Less than a second after I press send, there is an incoming call.

I step further away from Eli as I press to accept. "Good morning," I answer, walking onto the sunlit asphalt.

"Is everything okay?" Marcy's voice is full of concern.

Hearing her, my heart rate slows. I sit down on the curb and close my eyes, feeling the morning sun on my face. "Not exactly," I admit.

And then I tell her about last night. The call from Harry. Christopher and Sequoia's disagreement. And then, tell her how he woke me up early.

Looking up, I see Eli watching me. I lower my voice, deciding not to tell her about him. Not wanting to worry her. "Christopher thinks you might know something."

"Me?" she asks, her voice hesitant. "Me?"

"Well," I say, looking down at my feet. "Your father."

"Oh." Marcy pauses.

I can hear her breathing into the receiver.

"I'm not asking you to, like, uh, do anything," I say awkwardly. "That's just what Christopher–"

"I do know," Marcy interrupts me.

Did I hear her wrong?

"You do? You know where Harry is?"

"Yes," she whispers. "I–I... it would be... Charlie... It'd be a suicide mission."

"I know," I whisper back.

But now, what choice do I have?