He looks so peaceful, Troop thought, looking down at Ruth. He’d never attended a funeral before—this was his first.
Ruth’s body was laid out ceremoniously on the marble table at the far end of the Mourning Hall. His hands were primly folded over his chest, his hair neatly combed to perfection. Someone had cleaned his neck wounds, removing all traces of blood.
Troop wondered how many other bodies had been laid on the table Ruth now rested on. Morose music poured from the speakers, wrapping the mourners in a blanket of gloominess. Somebody’s shoulder shook in the corner of Troop’s vision. He turned his head to see who it was.
“Travis,” Troop murmured, offering some condolence to the grieving cousin of Ruth. “I’m so sorry.”
Troop knew his words sounded lame, but it was all he could think of to say.
Travis’s shoulders trembled. Ruth had been like a brother to him.
Who could be cruel-hearted enough to murder an innocent partygoer? Troop wondered. And who killed President Ducix?
The President’s death had been in the headlines for the past three days. No one knew who did it. No one knew how the President had died. Whoever had assassinated Ducix must’ve been a pro. An active hunt for the assassin had started the moment President Ducix had collapsed. Yet, three days later, officials still had no clue who had committed the deed.
Troop allowed Travis a few more minutes to pay his respect before leading him away from the body. Travis hadn’t leaked a single tear, but Troop could tell it was taking all of his self-control not to do so.
Somehow, Troop found himself in the air duct, spying on the meeting going on below him once more. He had made sure to situate himself before the meeting started, so that he wouldn’t disturb the people below with his banging when he scrambled up the duct.
Sweat dripped down the nape of his neck, though it wasn’t from the heat; cool air blew through the conduit at a constant stream. It’s my nerves, Troop decided. It’s just cold sweat.
Bored, he flicked the sound enhancer on and off, on and off. The sound of the door opening and closing several times brought him back to the present. He pressed his ear against the bottom of the air duct and heard the meeting being called to order. Finally. I’ve been waiting here long enough.
His mom spoke first, “Lawrence has called us together today to discuss some urgent matters. With President Ducix dead and current President Walter in his place, the future of the Accidents is looking pretty grim.”
Lawrence cleared his throat lightly. “Indeed, what Tiffany said is true. President Walter had made it clear that he opposes many of the Revealer’s opinions. For example, he supports the continuation of Accident testing.”
“But what about Advisor Casey? I thought she was trying to help halt Accident testing. Surely she must have some influence on President Walter as one of the head advisors,” a voice Troop didn’t recognize spoke up.
Lawrence replied, his tone heavy, “President Walter had dismissed Advisor Casey from her position. In fact, he has disposed of many officials he feels that sympathize with the Revealers and replaced them with his followers.”
There was a lapse of silence as everyone digested what they had just learned.
“I’m afraid I have more bad news,” Lawrence continued on. “President Walter has signed a form giving New Genes Lab and several other labs permission to test more Accidents. Although I’m not positive, I’ve heard rumors that the Accidents are going to be transported to the labs in two days.”
