Sneak (Swipe Series)

up the sculpture, ignoring the strong sense she had that Mrs. Phoenix very much disliked the idea of anyone touching the thing but herself. “I don’t understand.”
    Mrs. Phoenix took her hands from her ears, pulling out the earphones she’d been wearing and laying them down in front of her. “Hailey made this,” she said. “Gave it to me the night she left. I didn’t recognize it at the time—thought it was just another sculpture of hers—but she told me I’d figure it out, and she was right. When I got home, I found some earphones, hooked them up right here . . .” She pointed to the end of a wire sticking up from the sculpture’s surface. “Sonya. The thing works. And someone was broadcasting. The Markless are broadcasting on shortwave signals! Makes sense, I guess—it’s the last place anyone besides them would bother to look. And you clearly don’t need money or anything high-tech in order to listen in.”
    Grandma laid down the device and examined the earphones now. “Well, so what are they saying? What’s the news?”
    “I don’t know.” Mrs. Phoenix sighed. “The station went dead the night Hailey left.”
    “It hasn’t come on since?”
    “That’s right.”
    “And yet Hailey definitely knows about it. Listens to it. For communication.”
    “Of course. That’s why she made me this radio—so that I could listen too. Except her plan failed. The thing’s useless now.”
    “Useless?” Grandma was standing now, one foot already out the door. “Dianne, don’t you see what this means?”
    10
    Project Trumpet contained. Acheron IMPS successful. Targets eliminated. Details to follow on page . Erin ran the message over in her head, having easily memorized everything about it, right down to the font type (Courier) and time stamp (07:16:32, August 16).
    She needed to find that page. It was that simple. Erin needed to find a copy of that page.
    She rode her rollerstick to the Umbrella and parked it by the base of the spire.
    In and out , Erin thought. If anyone sees you, you’re here to see Dad .
    And she swiped her Mark over the scanner by the elevator doors. Just in and out .
    Except . . . the doors didn’t open.
    Erin swiped her Mark again. The scanner beeped and flashed.
    She swiped a third time. The scanner flashed red.
    Her father’s transfer was already in effect. Erin was locked out.
    Erin cursed and thought for a moment about what to do next. But she didn’t hesitate. Never hesitate , she thought. And she unfolded her tablet.
    It rang four times.
    “I’m here to see you, Dad!” Erin said over the connection. “But the building won’t let me in.” She frowned. “Can you open the door for me?”
    “Erin, I’m busy,” Mr. Arbitor said. “Why can’t it wait until I’m home?”
    Erin frowned, the wheels in her head turning quickly. “Remember all those supplies I stole back in September?” she said.
    Mr. Arbitor narrowed his eyes.
    “Well, I brought them back! What’s left of them anyway . . .”
    “You told me nothing was left.”
    “I was lying,” Erin lied.
    Mr. Arbitor shook his head. “Fine,” he said. “Might as well salvage some amount of my respect around here.”
    And with a swipe at his tablescreen, Mr. Arbitor opened the elevator doors.

    Erin’s heart raced as she rode the elevator up the fifty-story ascent. In and out , she thought. In and out, in and out . . .
    The elevator opened and she stepped into the main disk of the Umbrella. Her father still stood by his desk at the other end of the room, busy with the cleanup of his space and distracted from noticing her entrance.
    Erin didn’t think twice—she dodged quickly around to the other side of the spire at the room’s center, slipped into the stairwell door, and ran up to the very top. She reached the platform leading to Mr. Cheswick’s office and swiped her Mark over its scanner just as she had the one at the Umbrella’s main entrance.
    It went red. Predictably. And Mr. Cheswick’s face appeared on the screen above it.
    “Erin,” he said over the connection, not quite menacing, but certainly not friendly. “What can I do for you?”
    “I just came in to return the supplies I stole. You know, back in September,” Erin said. “I, uh, I put them back already, but . . . but I wanted to apologize to you personally before I left.”
    “Fine,” Mr. Cheswick said. And like her father before him, the man buzzed Erin in. The platform began to rise.
    Erin had to think fast. She had one