Storm (Swipe Series)

over to get you to safety— if we move fast.”
    Suddenly Erin sat up, waving her arms exhaustedly. “Peck, let it go. I trust her. She’s trying to help.”
    “Thank Cylis,” Arianna said. “The redhead’s talking sense. All right then, Erin—how much do you know so far?”
    “What makes you think I’m the brains of this thing?” Erin asked.
    The doctor laughed. “Please.”
    “Okay,” Erin said, clearing her throat. “Well. I know about Project Trumpet.”
    “Clearly,” Arianna agreed.
    “I know about it because I hacked into a memo. It revealed that New Chicago’s DOME director Michael Cheswick used a group called the Trumpet Task Force to cover up an outbreak six months ago. This task force, I later found out, was part of a larger organization called the International Moderators of Peace. Far as I can tell, the Trumpet cover-up was the first official use of their troops.”
    The doctor frowned. “First I’m hearing about an outbreak,” she said.
    “How is that possible?” Peck pressed.
    Arianna shrugged. “DOME’s always been choosy about who it keeps in the know on these types of things.”
    “Yeah? And what happened to your expert hacking skills?”
    “I didn’t say I couldn’t have found out about it—I said I hadn’t .Surely you don’t expect me to hack memos that I’ve no reason to think would exist.” She turned back to Erin. “I apologize, Erin. Please, go on.”
    Erin cleared her throat. “Anyway. Eventually I realized these IMPS were the same people who guarded Acheron. So, with the Dust’s help, and with the influence of the A.U.’s Unmarked radio network, I incited the Markless in Beacon and New Chicago to riot. It was my guess that if our protests pulled enough of these IMPS away from their duties in Acheron, then we might be able to drain the prison of its security, leaving the Dust with an opening to sneak in and save Logan.” Erin shrugged, a little shy. “Clearly, the plan worked.”
    “And quite impressively, I might add.” Arianna smiled. “That part, I did know. DOME’s been feeding its employees updates on the protests for weeks. They aren’t—what’s the word . . . ah, yes— happy with you. No. They aren’t too happy at all.” Arianna patted down the front of her shirt, and its colors morphed and spread again around her fingertips. “But all I care about is your knowledge of Trumpet. I need to find out where that knowledge ends in order to know what you’re expecting from me. So will you indulge me?”
    Erin took a deep breath. “I know that Project Trumpet is a nanovirus, dreamed up by Cylis to wipe out the Markless if he ever saw a need. I know you were the engineer he asked to create it all those years ago—I’ve found the documents that point to you. I know Cylis released the dormant virus as soon as you gave it to him, and I know that DOME’s been vaccinating the Marked ever since, during the Pledge process.
    “I also know that somehow, this vaccine of yours has back-fired, since last August it was a group of Marked who started getting sick, not Markless—”
    “Whoa, whoa,” Arianna said suddenly. “Hold up. Backfired ? How in Cylis’s name did my vaccine backfire?”
    Erin frowned. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But it’s only the vaccinated who have gotten sick. All I can guess is that, somehow, there was a mistake in your design.”
    “I don’t make mistakes,” Dr. Rhyne said with a wave of her hand. “Mistakes are ugly, and beneath me, and I don’t make them. Period.”
    Erin shrugged. “Well, Marked have died. So clearly you did—”
    “That’s impossible—” the doctor interrupted.
    “And I’m betting ,” Erin continued, “that you just might be prideful enough to help fix it.”
    In a sudden burst of anger, Dr. Rhyne bucked her leg back, kicking the stool behind her and sending it skidding across the room. It ricocheted off a distant table, clanging horribly. “Are you certain , now, about this? Are you absolutely sure that my vaccine has given Marked citizens Trumpet Fever? Do you have proof ?”
    “Show her the Task Force memos,” Hailey said, pointing to Erin’s tablet.
    “I don’t need to,” Erin said. She turned to the doctor. “I’m your proof—Marked and sick.”
    “You could be sick with anything,” Arianna said. “It’s flu season. What makes you think this is Trumpet?” But she leaned in and touched Erin’s forehead as she spoke. She jumped visibly upon feeling the