Once dressed, he sat in a chair and waited until it was time to go to breakfast. He stared blankly at the door for nearly an hour, for he had gotten up early. He tried to think about his next project that the High Priest Justine had given him—perfecting the Quillitary vehicle operations. Today he would visit the Quillitary base for a tour, and he’d learn from the officers how the vehicles ran. From there he’d take the information and develop a plan. Hopefully, it would be a plan that pleased the high priest. This was his best chance at remaining in his high position as assistant secretary and moving up to secretary in a few months when the old maid had been disposed of.

Aaron knew that solidifying his post in the palace was crucial to his advancement. The current secretary to the high priest was an ancient woman, older than the high priest herself. Soon she’d be sent on to the Ancients Sector of Quill, as her sight was failing. Once there she’d never be seen again. Well—not by Wanteds, anyway. It was the job of the Necessaries to tend to the Ancients, put them to sleep, and bury them. Aaron had learned all about the burying part because his father was a burier.

Burying. Aaron shuddered. His thoughts had turned back to Alex and the day they’d made houses in the mud. Aaron admitted to himself that he hadn’t actually “seen” a house in the random markings in the mud. At the time he had wanted to see what Alex saw. But thinking back on it, he was glad that he didn’t.

Alex. Aaron shook his head violently. “Stop,” he said to himself. “Or I’ll be forced to report you.”

Aaron’s thoughts turned again to his own advancement. Once the secretary was banished to the Ancients Sector, Aaron would be on an equal level with five of the six governors. There were only two people in Quill who stood in his way from that point. One was the High Priest Justine herself, who at seventy years old was not presumed to live more than five or ten years. Aaron wasn’t worried about her standing in his way when the time came, and she had no heirs. But the second obstacle would be infinitely more difficult. He was the senior governor, second in command. The man watched Aaron like a dog watches a gopher hole. Almost like he knew Aaron was hot on his heels, ready to overthrow Senior Governor Haluki and become the next High Priest of Quill. Almost like he knew that Aaron would stop at nothing to succeed.

A harsh clanging of metal on metal sounded outside his door. Aaron breathed a sigh of relief, got up, and strode to the doorway. When he opened the door, and indeed as all the other doors of the hall opened simultaneously, a flash of something silvery bright caught his eye on the floor of his room next to the door. It was a thin piece of metal twisted into an odd shape. But this one wasn’t brown, like all the rusty metal Aaron had ever seen. This was gleaming silver, a color Aaron had never before laid eyes on, except in the dream the previous night.

Swiftly, he reached down and picked it up. He put it in his pocket to study later in private, and stepped into the line of students that would take him to the cafeteria for breakfast.

At eight o’clock Aaron slipped out of the university and into the awaiting vehicle that would take him to the Quillitary base for his tour. In the front seat, next to the driver, was Governor Haluki; in the back with Aaron, Governor Strang.

“Good day, Governors.”

“Well met, Aaron,” they intoned.

Now that he had an official title tied to the high priest, it bothered Aaron that they continued to call him by his first name as if he were a child. But he said nothing, and instead turned his attention to the driver, a Quillitary lieutenant. “Driver,” he said curtly as the vehicle chugged and squealed along the road.

“Yes, sir, Assistant Secretary Stowe, sir!”

That made up for the previous. “What is your top speed?” Aaron asked.

“Twenty-five posts, sir.”

“Sustainable?”

“Not hardly, sir.”

“How long?”

“I’d say thirty minutes.”

“You’d say?” Aaron sneered.

“Thirty minutes, sir!”

“What happens at thirty-one?”

“Engine locks up, Mr. Stowe. You hear the squealing now? Needs water and grease. Soon as we arrive, I’ll rejuice so I can make it back.”

Aaron’s brow furrowed. “Water? What’s the water allotment for the base? Gentlemen?”

Governor Strang spoke. “We’ve just increased it to thirty barrels.”

“A week?”

“Thirty barrels,” Strang repeated, “a day.”

Aaron sat back in the seat. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said evenly, even though Senior Governor Haluki hadn’t contributed a word, and even appeared to be nodding off in the front seat.

Thirty barrels a day. Aaron looked out his window, up through the barbed-wire defense ceiling, and scanned the sky for rain clouds. Seeing none, he feared for the life of his first project, the Favored Farm. With water this scarce and the Quillitary vehicles sucking up a ridiculous amount, something had to be done.

Haluki, Strang, and Aaron toured the Quillitary base, walking past new Wanted soldiers practicing the traditional Quillitary death chants that would be used in battle should Quill ever come under attack. But Aaron’s focus was on transportation today. He absorbed everything he saw and heard regarding the vehicles. Then the three returned to the vehicle for the short ride to the palace to meet with the High Priest Justine. The car creaked and strained its way up the hill, and Aaron, now feeling the exhaustion from too few hours of sleep the night before, let his thoughts wander once again to the strange episode during the night. It felt distant now, but something tugged at Aaron’s mind. How could it be possible that behind that great fence was an entire world full of Unwanteds? Aaron couldn’t fathom it. There was no way they would fit, for one thing—not according to the accounts he’d overheard from the governors’ inspection about the small plot of land. And where would they hide? It was ridiculous. There was nothing but a building, some weeds, and a—a lake. A Great Lake of Boiling Oil.