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Jommy and Kathleen ran. Outside, the attack seemed to be growing worse.

The underground levels of the grand palace were a labyrinth of corridors, subterranean

chambers, shielded self-contained rooms like small bank vaults. Ages ago, slan conquerors had

designed and constructed the immense structure during their brief reign over humanity. After

so many subsequent administrations, Jommy doubted that anyone—even President

Gray—knew the extent of all the passageways and secret underground rooms.

He wondered if there were also interrogation rooms and torture chambers down here. How

often had Gray himself used these detention cells?

Each of the innumerable underground sectors was accessed by a different security protocol.

Even veteran workers could easily get lost in the confusing monumental structure that was as

large as a small city. The two escapees used that to their advantage now.

After breaking out of their cells, they ran along, peering around corners, dashing down

open stretches, trying doors that were either locked or led to empty rooms or simple offices.

Klaxons blared and magenta warning lights flashed in the halls, sounding an evacuation,

summoning security, unnecessarily warning of the invasion.

“We have to find President Gray.” Kathleen hesitated, then added, “We have to find my

father
.”

“We’ll find him.” Jommy squeezed her hand. “It may seem an impossible task, but people

have always feared slans for our abilities. We may as well give them something to fear.”

One large room had windows for walls. Inside, fifteen chairs surrounded a long boardroom

table; black-and-white computer screens were embedded in the flat wood surface. “This must

be a secondary command and control center.” Jommy looked around, perplexed. “But it’s

empty, not even a backup team. What about the emergency?”

Kathleen studied the room. “The palace probably has at least twenty rooms like this. The

government is compartmentalized, everyone with their separate areas of responsibility. The

President and his various advisors don’t trust each other during the best of times, and now that

we’re being attacked…” She let her voice trail off. “I’ll bet there’s plenty that even John Petty

doesn’t know about the palace.”

He was about to continue the search for Kier Gray’s location, but Kathleen called him back.

She pulled up a rolling chair in front of one of the black-and-white screens. “Wait,

Jommy—help me. The two of us can figure out these systems. We’ll search for where they’ve

taken my father.”

He joined her at the head of the table, looking down at the largest cathode-ray tube. Text

scrolled down the screens, reports of damage, estimated enemy strengths, suggested numbers

of casualties. Paper tape rattled through a reader and a status report in block letters appeared

on the curved screen.

Kathleen flicked toggle switches, then typed long strings of commands into the keyboard.

A bird’s nest of lines appeared on the screen, and Kathleen turned a knob, adjusting the focus.

“There! A blueprint.” Diagrams of floor after floor of the huge building complex appeared, all

superimposed on top of each other.

She spread them out until she had found hundreds of images, each one filling a full

computer screen, each one showing one floor of one wing. She flicked from screen to screen,

searching so rapidly that the blueprints became a blur. Thanks to the eidetic memory

possessed by all slans, he and Kathleen were able to take a mental snapshot of each image.

Jommy stared in amazement. “I never realized the extent of this place. The grand palace

covers the whole skyline of Centropolis. After my mother was killed and I went to live with old

Granny, I used to look across the rooftops and see the beautiful palace. It was like something

out of a fairytale with its beautiful lights and towers. It made me think of what great things

people could accomplish if they worked together … how much more wonderful it was to build

something than to destroy.”

Jommy leaned closer to the screen. “But this is unbelievable. What I could see above

ground is barely the tip of an iceberg. It spreads down like the roots of a huge tree. There are

tunnels and access shafts, like the ones I used to get in here.” He glanced sideways at Kathleen.

“My vehicle is waiting for us in the forest across the river. If we can only get to it…”

Kathleen toggled to another screen image, then another, still searching for the secret police

lockdown zones. “Not without my father. We’ve got to save the President. Who else could lead

us through this time of crisis?”

Jommy reached over and gave her a hug. “I’m proud of you for saying that.” Then he

glanced down, disheartened at the hundreds of screens of blueprints. “But how are we going to

find him in all this? His cell was nowhere close to ours.”

Kathleen rattled her fingers across the keyboard. Metal pins chattered through paper tape.

When a tongue of paper spat out from the printer slot, she tore it off, looked at the numbers,

then nodded. “At least Petty’s men are efficient—they’ve logged in my father’s incarceration.

This is the blueprint we need. I’ll find the exact sector.”

As Jommy zeroed in on the appropriate diagram, Kathleen determined the floor number,

the corridor, and even the cell number where President Gray had been taken. Collating

through the information in his head, he settled on the best route to get there. “We can take the

internal transport cars.”

He and Kathleen dashed down the hall, found an exit door that led to a set of steep metal

stairs. He counted the floors, looked at the painted numbers on the fire doors, and emerged

four levels below. They cautiously poked their heads through the doorway and saw no one,

only a single flickering light that marked the internal transport station. Jommy pushed the call

button to summon the rapid oval car used for shuttling people throughout the vast palace.

Within minutes they heard a rattling hum, and a white egg-shaped vessel swept toward them

along magnetic rails.

After the door hissed open, Jommy and Kathleen climbed inside, punched their destination

request, and sat back as the bullet car shot along. The two sat close to each other in a brief

moment of privacy where they could feel safe, where they could just be together. Jommy knew

they should use the time to make plans, to discuss what they would do once they found and

freed the President. On the other hand, he just wanted to be with Kathleen, now that they had

found each other again. Alas, the swift car reached the destination station much too soon,

barely giving the two of them time to catch their breath.

The transport car came to a stop, and the door slid open. “Not far now,” Kathleen said.

“Let’s hope our luck holds. We’ll get him free, soon.” Jommy still had no idea how they

were going to manage it.

He grabbed her hand, and they dashed out. Jommy half expected to see a group of secret

police waiting for them with weapons drawn. One man did rush across the corridor, startling

them, but he hurled himself into a room, then slammed the door shut, locking it with a loud

click. They saw no one else.

Up another two flights of stairs, they emerged into a complex of cubical offices. People

hunched over heavy black telephones, clacked on manual typewriters, and rushed reports and

documents to each other. None of the workers paid attention to Jommy and Kathleen. The two

hurried past the cubicles, opened another double door and saw a long, straight hallway before

them.

Kathleen paused. “That leads to the high-security detention area. My father is there.” The

hammer-and-web symbol of the secret police marked the wall.

Bright overhead lights gave the long passage a sterile appearance, and six metal doors set

into the painted cinderblock walls were closed tight. Isolation cells? Torture chambers? They

would be incredibly exposed running down that long hall. Jommy reviewed the memorized

blueprints in his mind, but he could see no other way to where they had to go. “It looks like a

gauntlet we have to traverse.”

As they sprinted down the endless empty corridor, he was sure camera eyes must be

watching them. By now John Petty must have learned of their escape and would be searching

the whole palace for them. Jommy doubted even the tendrilless attack would distract the slan

hunter from that.

When they were halfway down the long corridor, far from any hiding place, the double

doors at the far end of the hall began to swing open. Jommy and Kathleen threw themselves

against one of the recessed metal doors. He tried to turn the knob so they could duck inside

and hide, but it was locked. Even using slan strength, he could not break it open.

At the far end of the corridor, three men wearing secret police uniforms pushed through

the double doors. All of the men were armed with heavy pistols. Jommy and Kathleen pressed

themselves into the small indentation of the doorwell, knowing they couldn’t possibly remain

out of sight. They were trapped, right out in the open. The guards would see them any

moment.

“We have to make them not see us,” Kathleen said in a quick whisper that was little more

than a hiss. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated.
Don’t see us. You don’t see us
.

With his tendrils, Jommy immediately picked up on what she was trying to do. Jommy

would have preferred to use one of his hypnotism crystals to enhance the output from his

tendrils, but he had lost the last of them on Mars. Instead, he and Kathleen would have to use

their powers jointly to send out a camouflaging suggestion. He joined her thoughts.
You don’t

see us. Don’t see us
.

The secret police hurried along the corridor at a brisk pace, intent on their own mission,

enthusiastically discussing the crisis amongst themselves.
You don’t see us
.

The three men strode directly past them, looking straight ahead, not bothering to glance

from side to side. They passed within two feet of Kathleen, but her concentration was fixed.

The slan tendrils at the back of Jommy’s head waved gently as he continued to send out his

thoughts. The armed men reached the far end of the corridor without looking back, and they

exited into another part of the palace.

Kathleen let out a long sigh of relief, and Jommy realized he was trembling from the

tension. He shook his head in amazement, then grabbed her hand again. “All right, the easy

part’s over now.” The two of them ran to the far end of the long hall, reaching the doors into

the high-security sector where Kier Gray was being held.

“We don’t have any disguise or any weapons,” she said. “We’re just going to walk into the

secret police zone?”

“I was planning to move faster than a walk.” Jommy knew their chances were slim, and he

was sure it would only get worse from this point forward. “That last little trick worked very

well, and they’re awfully preoccupied right now. I can’t even imagine what’s going on out in

the streets.”

“All right, I’ll think calming thoughts. Don’t let them be suspicious. We need to get close

enough to my father that we can fight them. Once we open the door of his cell, he can help us

fight.”

“I’m counting on it,” Jommy said.

Steeling themselves, they ran forward. Most of the holding chambers were empty; no

prisoners extended beseeching hands through the bars, clamoring to be set free during the

tendrilless attack. Ahead on the left, two guards and a mousy-looking courier waited in front of

a sealed cell. All three of them were armed with blunt-nosed pistols.

“That’s got to be the right place,” Kathleen said.

She and Jommy marched determinedly forward. He focused on his thoughts.
We belong

here. Don’t be suspicious. Don’t raise the alarm. We’re no threat to you. Nothing to worry about
.

The guards glanced at them, then looked away, seemingly dismissing the two. The meek

courier appeared perplexed and confused at his whole situation.

Nothing to worry about. We belong here
.

As Jommy and Kathleen approached, the guards looked at each other again with questions