Swipe

night before.
    And Erin never once mentioned her unfolding plans to moonlight as an unlicensed spy.
    2
    By the time Dane called that night, Logan had already finished four full sweeps of his house. He had already checked all the locks twice, he had already determined his bedroom unfit for sitting, and he was already sandwiched safely between his parents on the living room couch.
    Providing the calm company Logan needed while he distracted himself with Pledge prep, Dad watched the television frame on low volume, and Mom sat upright, though she might have been asleep. Meanwhile Logan curled up nose-deep in his tablet computer, skimming Pedia articles on the Unity for the hundredth time and by now practically memorizing their words.
    He’d just finished reading twice the five-part article about the history leading up to the Total War, and he could have recited by heart the precise ways that rising temperatures had led to extinctions, crop failure, famine . . . how hurricanes and earthquakes and floods had forced relocation, had strained infrastructure with refugees and changed ecosystems for good . . . how countrymen had fought over land and water. He could have explained the migration of mosquitoes and other pests to the northern regions, the specific path each disease took across continents. He could have listed by name the spokesmen and leaders in those first waves of unrest, quoted the speeches and rallies and television programs that had prompted men and women to violence. He could have spouted off without blinking an eye the specific body counts of various battles and epidemics, the total dead and missing persons adding up to a staggering amount.
    For political history, he’d reviewed the ways in which the States War differed subtly from the European War, and he studied the ways in which the two fit together to become, simply, the Total War. He’d read about the meteoritic rise of Chancellor Cylis in Europe, and the successful military trajectory of General Lamson in America. He’d memorized the ways in which each leader cooperated increasingly over the years, how Lamson had come to implement Cylis’s Mark program across the A.U., how both had brought about the worldwide religious Inclusion, all to ensure that nothing as cataclysmic as the Total War ever happened again.
    The Inclusion was of particular interest to Logan, partly because it was so far-reaching, and partly because it was the least talked about of all the major historical events. Logan knew, from piecing together what he’d read, that there had been a time not long ago when people around the world practiced a variety of different religions, each with its own system of values and culture and beliefs. Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism . . . the idea of it fascinated Logan, even though he hadn’t the slightest idea what those religions taught. After Lamson and Cylis instituted the Inclusion, everything that might once have been considered spiritual was just sort of lumped into a single, bland system that mostly preached patriotism and peace. Not bad ideas by any means, and yet Logan couldn’t help but wonder if somehow, in all of it, something important was being lost.
    In any case, this brought Logan to present-day news, to articles about the treaty and the speculation over the Global Union, along with editorials enthusiastically describing what a milestone it would be. Logan tried to imagine it as he continued to study.
    Any question was fair game in the oral exam at the Pledge, and after the incalculable tragedy of his sister, Logan was simply doing everything he could to stack the deck in favor of him leaving that Center alive.
    So by the time Dane called that night, facts upon facts upon facts all swam in Logan’s head with such intensity that he began to lose track of where one ended and another began, and when his tablet buzzed with the incoming message, Logan accepted the distraction eagerly.
    “You up for hanging out?” Dane asked. “I’m done with homework, and we’ve got another hour of daylight.”
    “I need to study. I’m terrified of this Pledge,” Logan admitted.
    “Oh please. You’re gonna ace that stupid thing. Besides, your birthday’s not for months. And it’s the first week of the school year. We’re practically obligated to cause some trouble tonight.”
    Logan smiled. “That sounds good,” he said. “I’ll see what my parents think.”
    3
    It had been several hours since Mr. Arbitor had