The lobby to the hotel-turned-apartment building was nearly empty. It was void of anyone except a girl behind a desk that had once served a purpose of checking people in and out.

The girl sat with her feet propped up on the desk's surface, leaning back in a chair. She seemed oblivious of the four people that cautiously walked past her. A piece of bubble gum popped loudly from her mouth as she flipped through a magazine.

"You're not supposed to go out there." The girl's voice was nasally as she addressed them. She kept her eyes glued on the magazine, flipping another page.

"Uh, we just need some fresh air," Ace replied. He looked between the three people around him and shrugged his shoulders.

"Two Palms Apartments has the freshest air in the city. Breathe air as fresh as your ancestors did." It sounded like she was repeating a sales pitch to rent an apartment.

Alex raised a brow, her eyes scanning the girl closely. She couldn't have been over sixteen years old. Her skin was most curious. It didn't naturally reflect the lights beaming down from above, but almost glistened—like metal.

"I don't think she's a girl," Alex whispered.

"I was thinking she seemed odd," Rollo observed. "Why haven't we seen you in the lobby before?" Her question was directed to the girl.

"I'm house sitting."

"House sitting?" Alex pushed, suspicion in her tone.

The girl popped another bubble loudly, eyes darting up when the doors to the apartment building swung open. The Patrolmen the four of them had seen on the street filed in.

Armored boots fell heavily on the tiled floors of the entryway. The Patrolmen were silent, yet everything about them was yelling for order. They walked in two lines through the room, splitting off until one was standing by every doorway leading into and out of the lobby.

Alex stepped closely to Cicero, who pulled his shirt down further over the gun tucked in his waistband. There was a zero tolerance policy for weapons.

A single Patrolman walked over to the four of them, and Alex could feel her heart stop in her chest. She grabbed Cicero's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"What are you four doing in here?" The Patrolman questioned.

Alex had never heard one talk, but it surprised her how human he sounded. She'd always assumed they were speechless robots.

"Stretching our legs," Ace answered, flashing one of his trademark grins. If only the Patrolman had been a hopeless romantic, they might have been able to walk out without another word.

"They said they were getting fresh air."

The four of them whipped their heads quickly toward the girl. She hadn't looked up from the magazine in her hands.

"We can get fresh air and stretch our legs at the same time," Ace added without a second of hesitation.

"Two Palms Apartments-"

"Yes." Ace closed his eyes and shook his head. He sounded as irritated with the girl as any of them. "Yes, but the air is fresher down here. Open space, not many people. Don't you have some magazine cut-out collages to get back to?" He shot a glare at the girl.

She narrowed her eyes back at him, popping another bubble.

Ace quickly composed himself and another smile flashed across his face.

The Patrolman looked between them, carefully scanning each for longer than necessary. Alex shifted uncomfortably and folded her hands tightly in front of her. She wished she could somehow teleport away from where she was.

Never had she faced such a close encounter with a Patrolman. They always skirted the edges of the city, patrolling the borders and main entrances. Like sharks in the water, except now they had the scent of something.

Alex noted, oddly, how the Patrolman had no smell to him. No sweat, cologne, or even an aroma from the suit he wore. If she closed her eyes, and depended solely on scent, it might have been like he wasn't even standing there.

The visor to his helmet turned clear, as opposed to the dark and opaque setting it was usually on. It surprised her to see a normal face behind the visor. He looked to be in his mid-forties, clean-shaven and well kept. His stern eyes were steel gray and looked almost empty. As if there was no soul behind them.

"There's a mandatory city-wide meeting. Everyone is expected to attend. Announcements will be made to all rooms, but since you four are already down here, we can expect to have you lined up at the front."

Alex swallowed a hard lump in her throat. She glanced uneasily at where the gun was hidden in Cicero's waistband, and the bag Ace had across his shoulder. No doubt it carried an amount of guns that could fill an armory.

"Why do all of you have so many bags if you're just stretching your legs?" the Patrolman added.

"Since we were coming down this way, we thought it'd be a good idea to bring down things for donation. Save us two trips. They collect here every weekend," Ace spilled out the words with a steady expression. He looked as calm and collected as ever.

At least that was an accurate statement. There was a small group of people that would take care of the less affluent in the city, and they collected donations to give away. How Ace even thought so fast to remember that was a mystery to Alex. She looked over at him, impressed.

The Patrolman took a moment to consider whether he believed Ace, but ultimately he nodded his head. "Mandatory meeting. And don't forget to leave your donations."

"Thank you, Officer-" Ace paused and leaned toward the Patrolman, barely inches away from him, "Officer Sandoval."

The Patrolman looked unimpressed with the recognition of his status and name. He gave the group one last once over before turning and joining another Patrolman across the lobby.

"How in the hell did that even work," Alex whispered as they hastily walked over to the far wall.

There was a box already spilling over with donated items. Clothing, toys, and even smaller pieces of furniture. They all threw their bags over to one side so they would remember where they stashed them.

Cicero strategically placed himself so he could hide the gun amongst the items without any Patrolmen seeing. He buried it beneath the others' belongings and stood up.

"Doesn't matter, but we have a bigger problem. What if they're calling this meeting because they know something? That's a big risk," Cicero cautioned.

"We don't really have a choice though, do we?" Alex looked behind her and noted a growing number of people gathering in the lobby. "If we don't go, we will look suspicious. They've already most likely scanned our ID implants in, so they'll know if we don't show up."

Rollo and Cicero passed a look of reluctance between them. As the two Keepers, every instinct in them was probably telling them they needed to leave. Being near a Patrolman was risking death. However, there was certainly logic behind staying. Even the Keepers had to know that.

"Fine," Cicero finally said. "We'll go."

--

Alex stayed close to Cicero as they filed along with everyone else into the old music hall. She could only imagine what it had looked like in its prime. It remained well kept. Floors and seats were meticulously cleaned, and the scent of fresh flowers wafted all around the building.

They often allowed shows to be performed in the music hall. A way for the Achilles to distract the citizens, no doubt. Alex had been a few times before, though always closely accompanied by Cicero.

The music hall was the only place that could hold everyone that lived in the city at one time. At least five thousand people in total sat comfortably in the three levels of seating. A huge stage took its place at the front of the room, raised high enough that everyone could see well.

Alex looked around in wonderment, holding on tightly to Cicero's hand. She hadn't seen everyone gathered at one time before. So many people, so many unfamiliar faces, looked just as confused as she felt.

They were on the second level of seating in the front row. Alex's knees barely grazed the railing in front of her. She gripped the polished metal and leaned over, glancing up at the painting that adorned the ceiling.

It was an image of an ancient battle, depicted with great ships and men armed with spears and shields. The colors were still vibrant. Someone painted it recently, as she hadn't seen it the last time she'd been to the music hall. There was small writing at the edge of the painting. Alex squinted her eyes to read the print.

"'The Battle of Aegospotami'," she read aloud.

"What?" Cicero questioned, turning his head to look at her. Alex pointed a finger up at the ceiling. He followed her gesture with his eyes.

"The painting shows the battle of Aegospotami. I read about it in a book. Interesting that it's painted here."

"Why is that so interesting?" Ace asked, having listened in on their conversation.

Turning to him with a grin, Alex sat back with folded arms. "It was a naval battle between the Spartans and the Athenians. Not long after their battle, the Athenians only surrendered because they were nearly starved to death."

"Okay." Ace didn't sound as interested, nor did he appear to understand what she was hinting at.

"Don't you see? It's like they're spitting back in our faces with the painting. Starving us out for victory, it's what they did to-"

"You shouldn't talk so poorly about them here. You don't know who's listening," Rollo interjected, speaking over Ace to her. "There are too many ears here." She pointed discreetly behind her.

Alex's eyes were drawn to two Patrolmen standing guard by the doorway they had entered through. She sat back again quickly and shifted down in her seat.

"I doubt they heard you," Cicero whispered.

"It would only be my big mouth to get us killed, though," she said, stifling a laugh. Dark humor was her only way out of constantly worrying about the 'what-ifs'. Cicero frowned at her joke, and she elbowed him in the side. "Oh, lighten up. If I wanted to get us killed, I'd have said a lot worse, a lot louder."