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“So everyone,” James says, once each member is sitting in the circle. “I think you know what we’re going to go over tonight.”

“Is it the plan?” Taylor asks, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m so excited we’re actually going to do it! I can do anything, as long as it’s not in a thunderstorm,” she says. “I kind of freak out during thunderstorms, right Sophie?”

I nod and pat her head.
How I missed you, old friend
.

“That’s great, Taylor,” James says. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. But there’s no need for us to rush into anything too quickly.”

“But didn’t we all vote to get started?” Amy asks, crossing her arms against her chest. Other than James, she’s the senior member of the Group and seems to know the most about The Association. I think that I like her and am a bit afraid of her, in equal parts.

“Yes, we’re getting started. I’m just trying to remind everybody this isn’t a race.” James pauses. “If anything, what we are starting is a lifelong commitment for each of us to be involved in eradicating Typology once and for all.”

“Eradicating?” Taylor asks.

“It means getting rid of,” Noah says, snorting. “Maybe reviewing the dictionary can be your role in the plan.”

“Okay, okay, no need for that,” James says. “As I was trying to tell everyone, we’ve agreed by vote we’re ready to begin Phase A. While I was up North, I got word from members from one of the biggest counties there that they’ve already gotten things started.”

“Really?” I ask. The realization there are kids all across North America and maybe in other places, too, all getting ready to try and overthrow the biggest organization in the world hits me with force, and I feel my stomach twist in knots.

James nods. “Now, what’s important to remember is that everyone here is going to have a role and that each role is equally important.”

“There are no small parts, only small actors,” I say. Noah snorts and I elbow him in the ribs. “My sister always used to say that,” I tell him.

“A very good point, Squirt,” James says. “As I was saying, everyone is going to have a role, probably more than one. Sometimes you might find yourselves here, running the fort and keeping things going. Other times you might be asked to try and infiltrate a Home School or even go to Harmony. What’s most important here is not the role you’re given, but the trust you have in the plan. No matter what, no matter how frightening things might get, you have to always remind yourself what we’re doing is important and we can make a difference.”

“Even in a thunderstorm?” Taylor asks.

“Even then.” James looks around. “Now part of Phase A is having some of us head out to the other counties, to try and make contact with kids who are doing the same thing we’re doing. We’ve had some contact with other groups by cell phone, but we keep having to get rid of them before we get tracked.” He pauses again. “As I said, I was just up North, which was great, but where we really need to head to now are the bigger cities. Some of them are a county all by themselves. Take New York, for example.”

“Isn’t Dad’s best friend the Head Association Psychologist there?” I ask. “Dr. Guthrie, I think.”

James nods. “You’re exactly right. Dr. Guthrie is the big-wig in New York and he’s probably the most powerful Psychologist in all of North America. If we can get contacts in New York, then we might have a chance.”

“But how will talking to a few kids make any difference there?” Meg asks. “I mean, aren’t there hundreds of Psychologists in New York alone?”

“There may be hundreds, but only ten are part of the Association. It’s a pretty elite group, you know.”

“So who should go?” Amy asks.

James reaches across the circle and takes her hands in his. “You and me,” he says. “At least to start.”

“But shouldn’t someone else go?” I blurt out. “Someone who isn’t so…recognizable? Dr. Guthrie has known you since you were a baby!”

“Exactly,” James says, without explaining more.

My head starts to hurt and I lean it against my hand. The idea of losing my brother so soon after I’ve gotten him back makes every part of me hurt. “What should I do?” I ask.

“I thought for now you would stay here at the cabin, and learn more about what we’ve been doing.”

“You can help with rifle practice,” Noah says.

“What?”

“He’s kidding,” James says.

“But do you guys have weapons?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry. “I mean, should I be learning how to fight?”

James shakes his head. “We’re trying to do this the nonviolent way, Soph,” he says.

“What do you mean?” Taylor asks. “I mean, how can we ever win anything with no weapons?” I can hear the panic starting to rev up in her voice.

“We’re nonviolent because The Association has the military on their side, so there’d be no point. Even if we combined all of the Groups together, we’d still get destroyed in any sort of physical fight.”

“Think David and Goliath,” Noah says. He glances towards Taylor. “Maybe you should look that up, too.”

“We’re also nonviolent because history shows that’s the kind of movement that actually
can
work. All over the world it’s happened before—Iran, Poland, The Philippines, The Ukraine. Think Martin Luther King Jr., think Gandhi.”

I give my brother a blank look.

“I’ll show you a book later, okay?”

“So what
do
you do?” Taylor asks.

“Get the word out any way we can,” Peter says. “Most of the public is clueless about what’s going on. We do it through face to face contact and by having spies in places like the Home Schools. Also by making sure we get our underground newspaper out.”

“You guys write an underground newspaper?”

Amy nods. “That’s what I do most of the time,” she says. “Anything that we find out goes into the paper. A lot of what our members in the Home Schools do is send us information, usually in code.”

“Code?” I ask.

“Yeah. That’s the only way they won’t get caught. Different phrases mean different things. For example, if someone writes ‘It was Meatloaf Monday’, that means there are new members at that Home School,” Amy says. “Emily from ISTJ is one of the best at sending me stuff. Or I should say she sends letters to her ‘Uncle Craig’, who then brings them to us.”

“Who’s Uncle Craig?”

“Peanut butter guy,” Noah says. “And before you ask, no, he’s not
really
her uncle!”

The sudden image of Emily, so desperate to find her notebook, enters my mind.
Could it have had secret codes written in it
?

“If the plan is for you to stay here, then you could make copies of this month’s newspaper,” Amy tells me. “I can show you before I go with James.”

“Can I maybe see a paper now?”

Amy looks towards my brother, who nods his head slightly. She goes into the other room and then comes back with a single sheet of paper. “Here,” she says, handing it to me.

I take the page and start to read, but my gaze keeps blurring. “How do you get this to people? I mean, without computers or anything?”

“Like this,” Amy says. She takes the page from me, folds it quickly into the tiniest square possible, and then slips it into Noah’s palm. “Here you go.”

“Isn’t that kind of, um, ineffective?”

Amy sighs, the sigh of a grownup to a stupid kid. “Why don’t you ask all the people who used to share secret information in the Soviet Union just like that, hmmm?”

“The Soviet Union?” Taylor asks. “Doesn’t that, um, not even exist anymore?”

“That’s kind of her point,” says Noah.

“There’ve been a lot of resistance groups in the past which used underground newspapers to get the word out, especially in wars like World War Two,” Amy says. “They didn’t need social media and neither do we.”

“That’s not totally true,” James says. “We give the paper out by hand because the kids we give it to don’t have internet access and because it means less risk of getting traced. But we also give copies out to adults we know are on our side, then
they
can spread information any way they want to.”

I try focus on what my brother’s telling me, but my thoughts are stuck on the Soviet Union and on World War Two. Why don’t I know anything about the century my grandparents had lived in? All I was told in Primary about the 20th Century was that it was a time of ignorance, greed, and war, and that such things will never take place again, thanks to Typology. “So what happened to the people who worked for those newspapers?” I ask. “Did they all become heroes?”

Amy looks at James and sighs again. My brother reaches over and touches my shoulder. “Some of them, well, a lot of them were caught and, well, basically they were Ended.”

I feel my stomach tighten and a wave of nausea race up my throat. While I want to do whatever I can to help James, to help the Group itself, the idea of staying here, making copy after copy of a newspaper, and just waiting to be found, is terrifying.
If I’m going to be a target, I’d rather be a moving one
. “Isn’t there something I could do out there?” I ask. “Please. Let me help more. Please.” I force my voice to remain calm, hoping to show my brother that he can count on me, that I’m not the silly, self-centred baby sister he once knew.

James looks at Amy and Peter, who both nod. “Okay,” he says. “You’re right. You should have a bigger role.” He sighs. “Amy, Peter, and I have discussed this and they argued pretty forcefully that if you don’t want to stay here, you should go back to Harmony.”

“Go back to Harmony? Why would I want to do that?”

“I thought you wanted to be part of Phase A,” Amy says.

“I do, but I just got out of Harmony! They’ll End me if I go back there!” My voice starts to rise and I know I sound hysterical. I force myself to calm down again. “Why would you want me to go back there?”

“It’s not that I want you to go to Harmony,” James says. “It’s that we need someone to get back in there as quickly as possible, to find out more information.” He looks towards Amy, who takes over.

“Sophie, I want you to know that I don’t consider you a little kid. I respect you.” Her voice is gentle and her gaze firm.

“Okay,” I say.

“That’s why I think you can do this. Why I know you can do this.”

“But I still don’t understand why I need to go there? What else will I find out?”

Amy shrugs. “That remains to be seen,” she says. “What we do know is that the Harmony in our county will be holding the annual Progress Meeting for all the Association Psychologists in North America. That’s probably the biggest meeting of the year. Each Harmony takes turns hosting. If we had you in there, the chances we’d find out some pretty vital information is huge.” She pauses. “The reason I want it to be you going there is that you’ve only been out for a few days. It won’t look strange for you to be found and shipped back to Harmony. If anything, it will make the Psychologists over-confident no one can truly escape them.”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say finally. “But on one condition.”

“And what’s that, Squirt?” James asks, crossing his arms and smiling at me.

I sit up straighter. “I need to talk to Hannah first.”

James shakes his head, his smile gone. “No can do, Sophie. I know you miss her, but seeing her now would be too risky.”

“It’s not because I miss her,” I say. “I mean, I do miss her, but that’s not it. I need to see her to tell her what’s been going on, with Dad. She’s one of us, she needs to know.”

“I agree she’s one of us, that she’ll always be one of us.” James looks at me. “Listen, Squirt, I love Hannah just as much as you, but she’s a bit of a wild card. To expect her to go against Dad would be expecting too much. Besides, we can’t risk anyone seeing you.”

“I’m good at hiding. I can make sure I won’t get caught! I can go to the dress rehearsal of her Mid-Year Show. Dad and Mom never go to that. I’ll talk to her backstage after the performance. After I see her I’ll do what you want me to do, I promise. Please!”

James shakes his head again. “Too dangerous. I’m sorry, but the answer is no.”

“The answer is no?” I hear my voice rising and cringe. “Do you realize who you just sounded like? You sounded like Dad!”

I watch as the colour drains from James’ face and his eyes narrow. “I’m not like Dad and I never will be like Dad. Got it?”

I nod, my heart beating too fast. Although I’ll make sure to never say it again, when this side of James comes out he is exactly like my father. He just is.

“I could go with her,” Noah says.

“You’d go with Sophie? You’d do that for her?”

Noah nods again. “I would. And I agree with Sophie. Your other sister should know what’s going on. Who knows? Maybe she can get some of the ESFPs to join us.”

James sighs. “I guess I’m outnumbered.”

“Really?” I look from James to Noah, then back to my brother. “I can go?”

“Yes, you can go. But Noah stays here.” He sighs again. “Believe it or not, I really am not Dad, although I guess I am feeling a bit protective of you, Squirt.”

I squeal and launch my whole body in his direction, tackling him. Suddenly I feel on top of the world. If I was able to convince James to let me do something so dangerous, maybe there’s a lot more I’ll be able to do.

CHAPTER THREE

You can wake up now, the universe has ended.

—Stewart Stern

Getting into Hannah’s
dress rehearsal is easy, just like I thought it would be. They sell tickets for it at half-price, but most of the students’ parents wait to see the actual show. I hand the kid selling tickets two dollars, then walk through the main doors and into the auditorium. At first I’m surprised by how professional it looks, with its heavy velvet curtains hiding the stage from view and row after row of cushioned seats. Even a large balcony! The auditorium is so unlike the gym was at ISTJ, a room that was sometimes used for fitness classes, sometimes for assemblies, but never for students acting in plays.
Another perk of going to ESFP
.

I pick one of the rows near the back and settle into a seat. After a while, about half of the seats fill up and the lights dim. For the next ninety minutes, I lose myself watching the play and feeling proud my sister is such a good actress.
That’s my sister! Mine!
Almost too soon, the play is over and I’m back to being a member of the Group rather than just part of the dress rehearsal audience. Once the cast bows for the final time and the curtain closes, I stand up and head towards the front. By acting as if I belong there, I somehow get backstage without anyone questioning me. One of the good things about being twelve is you’re basically invisible to everyone. No longer seen as a cute little kid to fuss over and yet not considered old enough to have any real opinions, at twelve you can often get into places without anyone even noticing you exist. Finally, this has become a good thing.