"Her chip says she is," Mandel tells me. "And I trust it far more than I'll ever trust you."

The second elevator has started climbing toward the ninth floor. I use my own key to unlock the lounge door just as the elevator lands on nine and Joi steps off. There are fifteen stairs that lead to the tower, and if Mandel beats Joi upstairs, she'll have her own drawer in the morgue before the smoke has cleared. He'll know she removed her chip, and after that, everything else will be obvious.

Mandel is already halfway up the stairs. "There's something I need to tell you," I call up to him. "It's about Joi."

"Then come with me," Mandel replies without looking back. "Whatever it is, Joi can hear it too."

I leave Mandel's key behind on the balcony and pray that Joi understands the message.

The Wolves' Den is empty. Mandel takes a spin in the center of the room, as though Joi might be hiding behind a chair or under the sofa. When he comes to a stop, there's no smile on his face. The headmaster knows he's been duped, but he still can't believe it.

"Where is she?" he demands. "Where is she?!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. Joi's not here."

"The signal from her chip says she's in the lounge."

Play for time. Play for time.

"Well, I've been standing on the ninth-floor balcony since she ordered us all back to our rooms. I never saw her come up to the lounge. Joi's behind all of this. I don't know what she's doing, but I think you should be very concerned."

"Do you think she's tried to escape?" Mandel asks.

"Your guess is as good as mine, but if I were you, I'd start searching the whole building."

He almost looks ready to take my advice when a window opens and Joi casually enters the lounge. She found the card key and went through Mandel's office to the roof.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"And here's our Dux now!" Mandel sounds as relieved as I feel. "Flick was just trying to convince me that you orchestrated this afternoon's entertainment. He suggested I form a search party to find you."

"Nice try," Joi snarls at me. "I passed Flick on my way to the roof. He knew exactly where I was this whole time."

Mandel's smile returns. "And what, pray tell, were you doing outside?"

"Making plans," Joi replies.

"Escape plans?"

"Battle plans," Joi corrects him. "I've waited long enough. It's time for the culling to start."

"That's precisely why I wanted to speak with you." Mandel turns to me. "You may leave," he tells me.

"If you don't mind, I'd like Flick to hear what I have to say," Joi interjects. "He's going to play a very big part in my plan."

The headmaster won't even look at me. "I'll allow him to remain in the room, but consider it my last favor," Mandel cautions her. "I think we'd all agree that I've been very indulgent, Joi. I've tolerated your whims. I even let you postpone the culling while you finished your 'analysis.' But I'm afraid I must now intervene. The disturbance downstairs was caused by a student who no longer has any business being here at the academy."

"Which one?" Joi asks.

"Violet. Number fifty-five."

"Then she'll be the second to go," Joi announces. "Gwendolyn will be first."

"When?" Mandel demands.

"Monday," Joi says. "Right after the holiday."

"No. Caleb should begin making plans immediately," Mandel orders. "I don't see any need to wait another three days."

"Oh, but I do," Joi assures him. "I want to give Flick plenty of time to think about how he'll kill his little girlfriend."

Mandel laughs. "Flick?"

"You want me to take Gwendolyn out?" My shock sounds genuine because it is. As much as I respect Joi, I'm more than a little concerned. This was definitely not part of our plan.

"Yes. While the whole school watches," Joi says. "I know you probably haven't staged a public execution before, Mr. Mandel. It's less upsetting for the low-ranking students if the Ghosts just disappear. But Gwendolyn is a former Dux. Everyone knows that she tried to dispose of me. And I want them to see how I deal with my enemies. And I want Flick to wish that he'd kept his pants zipped."

Mandel almost swoons with delight. He's fallen in love with his latest monster. "You have a true gift, my dear," he tells her.

"Thank you," Joi says. "So if I have your approval, I'll announce my plans to the top students during the fireworks."

"Fireworks?" Mandel asks.

"Tomorrow night is the Fourth of July. The view from the roof will be perfect."

Mandel doesn't seem fond of the idea. "Roof privileges are reserved for the Dux," he says.

"As they should be. But I'd like to give the other students a treat. It's my way of showing them how much power I have-and what I'm able to do with it. I'll announce Gwendolyn's fate while the sky lights up over Manhattan. It will be an evening the top twelve will never forget."

"I told you there wouldn't be any more favors, Joi, and this is a very unusual request."

"It seems unusual because I'm not like any Dux this school's ever had," Joi counters. "I know something the others didn't. If all you can do is make people scared of you, you'll always have to watch your back. The most successful leaders inspire more than fear in their subjects. They inspire awe."

"And you believe you know how?" Mandel asks. Joi nods, and he's hooked. I didn't think there was any bait that would make Mandel bite. But Joi figured out what our headmaster wants. Mandel knows he rules his little empire by fear. He knows half the graduates think he's nuts. Without the files, he'd be nothing. What he craves more than anything is the alumni's respect.

"Then perhaps I should join you," Mandel says. "I do enjoy a spectacle."

"You're welcome to come," Joi tells him. "But your presence wouldn't do either of us any good. I know how the top students think. I know how the alumni think. The more time you spend with them, the more human you seem. Let me act as your emissary, and we can make them all believe you're a god."

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

FIRE WORKS.

It's thirty minutes past curfew. Most of the academy's students are tucked safely away for the night. I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, praying that the door of my room will unlock. I hear the click, and I join the other Wolves as we weave our way through the darkness to the tower lounge. The window is already wide open when we arrive. Ella disappears into the night. The rest of the Wolves hesitate. When I step outside, they start to follow, one by one.

There's a whistle and a boom. The first firework of the night lights the sky. A shower of stars seems to rain down around the girl who's waiting for us by the railing. She's dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, which she wears like battle fatigues.

"Tonight, we're going to celebrate freedom," she announces just as a rocket whizzes past the skyscrapers and explodes overhead. "But we're not here to watch the fireworks."

There's a black bag on the ground in front of her. We can all see the folders peeking through the bag's open zipper. The Wolves edge closer.

"Nice out here, isn't it?" Joi asks pleasantly.

She seems to be waiting for someone to agree.

"Sure," Austin offers. "Real nice."

"How long has it been since you had a breath of fresh air?"

Austin looks around, just to make sure she's talking to him. "I got sent out on a few field trips last semester."

"But you've spent most of your free time cooped up in that lounge," Joi says. "Why didn't you ever try to sneak out to the roof?"

It sounds like a trick question. Austin doesn't answer.

"No one is listening," Joi assures them. "There are no bugs on the roof. Mandel can't hear us."

"He would have known if we'd come out here," Leila chimes in.

"That's right," Joi says. "How could I forget? The chips. You've all been bagged and tagged like a bunch of wild animals. The difference is, animals would try to resist. You let them put those chips in your arms."

"They'll be removed as soon as we graduate," Julian offers in the Wolves' defense.

"Or so you've been told," Joi points out. "Maybe it's true. Maybe it's not. But you know what amazes me? That a piece of plastic and a little bit of silicone could turn the top students at the Mandel Academy into a bunch of trained monkeys."

A few months ago, those might have been fighting words. But Joi has been making her case since the beginning of June. At this point, the Wolves all know she's right. Their grades are decided by academy graduates who never could have earned a spot in the school's top twelve. Their homework is passed along to high-ranking alumni. Even their field trips amount to little more than slave labor.

"I just called you monkeys," Joi points out. "Isn't anyone going to argue?"

"We're at the academy to pay our dues." Caleb gives her the party line. "There's a reward waiting for those who are strong enough to graduate."

"I see. You're waiting for a reward. I suppose you won't settle for a banana. So, what is it you want, Caleb?" Joi asks him.

"That." Caleb points at the fabled Manhattan skyline.

"You want what the alumni have," Joi says. "Sounds fair enough to me. You guys deserve it. You are the best and the brightest, after all. I suppose the alumni were the best in their day, but I've met them and let me tell you-that day is long gone. Now they're old and worn out. That's why they have to steal your ideas and trick you into doing their dirty work. They're taking what you deserve. And you guys are letting them do it."

"This is ridiculous," Caleb announces. "You're making it sound like we're on some kind of chain gang. I don't know about you, Joi, but my life has improved a great deal since I got here."

"It seems that way because they let you think you're running the place," Joi responds. "But trust me, Caleb-if one of the alumni ever decides that he doesn't like the look of you, you'll end up in a puddle of blood at the bottom of the atrium."

"I think I'll take that risk," Caleb sneers.

Joi nods. "Then let's talk about what's going to happen after graduation. Did Mandel ever mention how much of your income you'll be donating to the academy? Did you ever wonder why the alumni are all so eager to chip in to keep this place running? Here's why." She crouches down and pulls a folder from her bag. "This is a file that Mandel's been keeping on one of the graduates. Listen up, Austin, 'cause the guy's a politician, just like you. And it looks like he's been a very naughty boy." Joi flips through the documents inside. She stops somewhere in the middle, holds the file up centerfold style, and whistles. "Wow. I didn't even know you could do that sort of thing with a baseball bat!"

The case she's making is still a little too subtle for Austin. "Who cares what the dude does in his own spare time? What's your point?"

"The point is, doofus, Mandel owns this man. And one day soon, he's going to own you too. You'll be his personal slave for the rest of your life. If you don't believe me, just ask Caleb. Isn't that what human resources is all about, Caleb? You guys make sure all the graduates do what they're told. I bet if an alumnus ever steps out of line, some human resources weasel releases a few juicy secrets on the Internet. Secrets like this."

Joi holds up a picture from the politician's file for everyone to see. Leila giggles. Julian howls with laughter. Austin finally looks convinced. If a photo like that ever went viral, its subject would pray for an early death.

"Where did you get that stuff?" Caleb demands.

Joi shrugs. "It's amazing what you can find if you don't always do what you're told."

"And what do you intend to do with it?"

She ignores Caleb's question and addresses the crowd instead. "Back when I was locked up in the Incubation Suites, I got a long lecture about the 'survival of the fittest.' At the Mandel Academy, the strong rise to the top. The weak fall to the bottom. I thought it sounded fabulous until I got upstairs and found out it was a big sack of horseshit. I'm tired of being used and cheated and lied to. Why are we playing by the alumni's rules? We're younger and stronger. We're at the top of our game. So let's stop asking-and start taking. I've got a little present for you." Joi hands a folder to each of the Wolves. "Mandel used to own these people. I'm signing the deeds over to you. There's enough information in these files to make sure we all get what we deserve. Whatever these alumni have, it now belongs to us. It's time to declare our independence. I know we're all ready-and so do you."

"What about the chips?" Leila asks. She's still not buying it. None of them are.

"What about them?" Joi responds. "How many people do you think Mandel has tracking your movements? I can tell you right now. None. He's convinced you're completely predictable. He thinks of you guys as his pets. And do you want to know why?" She's been holding back, but the time has come to play her last card. It's a gamble, but it could pay off. "How many of you guys have been given medication in the past few years?"

Leila is the only one to raise her hand.

"What did it look like?" Joi asks.

"Purple pills. Diamond shape. I've been taking them since I got here."

"Has anyone else been given diamond-shaped purple pills?"

This time everyone but Caleb raises a hand. But I can see the truth on his face-he's taken them too.

"It's a drug called Exceletrex. The alumni own the company that manufactures it. In a few months they're going to start selling it. It's supposed to turn troublemakers like you into well-behaved little ladies and gentlemen."

Those pills were Exceletrex?" Leila is visibly shaking. I wonder what's responsible-panic or the pills. "The tech majors have spent the whole year wiping leaks off the Internet. There are scientists who say that stuff could cause brain damage."

"Could cause brain damage doesn't mean it will," Caleb notes.

"Maybe it will eat your brain, maybe it won't," Joi responds blithely. "Fact is, Mandel's been using you guys as guinea pigs. That's how much he respects you."

"I came up with the name Exceletrex," Julian says, looking horrified. "It was one of my first assignments at the academy."

"They paid off a bunch of government guys to get that drug approved," Austin adds. "A while back, my Political Science class put together a list of FDA people to bribe."

"The alumni are going to make billions off Exceletrex, and they couldn't have done it without you. And how did they thank you? By feeding you the stuff they'll be selling. Who knows? You might even make it to forty before you start speaking in gibberish and peeing your pants. So I suggest you use your brains while you still have the chance. The files I gave you? They belong to the pharmaceutical company's investors-who just so happen to be some of the richest people in New York."

"What are we supposed to do?" asks Max.