I removed my 1,000 MERIT badge and handed it over.

“You will also be instructed to wear this for a month.”

Yewberryhanded me a badge that simply read LIAR , and, taking a deep breath, I pinned it on, just below my NEEDS HUMILITY pin. I’d only worn a LIAR badge once before, and hadn’t enjoyed it.

My immediate thought was of how to regain the lost merits. I thought of Courtland and his proposal regarding the theft of Lincoln, or even of getting him the spoons from Rusty Hill. But I wasn’t going to be bullied into anyone else’s Rule-bruising schemes. Besides, those would be cash merits, not the ones that count—the ones in the back of your book. But what I said next surprised even me. “I’ll lead the expedition to High Saffron,” I said in a loud, assertive voice.

“We accept,” said deMauve before I could change my mind. “We will pay one hundred merits, as agreed.”

“I’ll go for nothing less than six hundred.”

There was an outburst of guffawing at my outrageous suggestion.

“The impertinence of the boy!” Turquoise blurted out.

“Such ungratefulness!” said Yewberry.

Loudest of all was Sally Gamboge: “We don’t deal with liars!” DeMauve, however, was more considered in his response. “What makes you think you’re worth six hundred merits, Edward?”

Without thinking, I blurted out, “I’m at Alpha threshold. You know as well as I do that sending expendable lowbies on a jaunt like this is a waste of time. Even if there is red in abundance, they’d never even see it.”

The prefects looked at one another uneasily. If I was Alpha threshold, then my offer made excellent sense. Although I could see only the one color, it would at least give an indication of the total volume to be found. But more important, High Saffron was the key to East Carmine’s fortunes, and they knew it.

And if I was the key to High Saffron, I had something to bargain with. It was a brilliant move on my part—if you didn’t count the almost-certain-death aspect of the plan.

“You are pre-Ishihara and have no color rating,” remarked Gamboge. “How can we be sure this is not a lie as well?”

I looked around the room, which contained not just the seven hundred and eighty-two volumes of The Word of Munsell (unabridged) but shelves and shelves of unsurrendered tosh—Previous artifacture that was too brightly colored to keep legally but too perfect, pretty or rare to have scrunched, squeezed, rolled and enriched. That they could keep it at all was thanks to a loophole. The items were simply listed in the Accessions Ledger as “awaiting sorting.”

I scanned the items on the shelves and pointed out the one with the subtlest red tone—a small milk jug, which shone out at me from a display of shiny grey pottery. They all looked at Yewberry, who frowned.

“I see only the merest hint of redness in it,” he confessed, “and I am 71 percent.”

They all stared at me, and I was surprised myself. If I was more than 71 percent redceptive, then I could be prefect.

“Pay him the six hundred,” said Yewberry, “and send him to High Saffron.”

Courtland’s assertion that the Outer Fringes were Reboot with a small r was true. I was here to stay and Yewberry knew it. Little wonder he was eager for me to go on a trip with a low possibility of survival.

There was silence in the room for perhaps half a minute, as the consequences of my potential rating were absorbed. Mrs. Gamboge simply glared at me. I don’t think she liked the idea of a Russett being prefect—my father had shown a sense of fair play that I hardly thought she’d welcome, and Courtland would have told her of my suspicions regarding Travis. Chromatic politics. You couldn’t get away from it if you tried.

“You are a very impertinent young man,” observed deMauve quietly, “but you have pluck, I’ll grant you that. Four hundred.”

But I was going to stand firm on this. I had to get back above residency.

“Not a cent below six hundred, sir.”

“To hear you barter like this is disgraceful,” remarked Yewberry with an angry tremor to his voice. “An upright member of the Collective would have volunteered his services, happily and without cost.”

“As you did, sir?”

He went so red that even the worst lowbie in the village could not have failed to notice.

“Very well,” said deMauve, looking ruffled, “six hundred it is.”

We were dismissed, and after bowing again, Violet and I left the room. In the corridor outside, I felt Violet clasp my forearm. Half expecting some further admonishment or even a slap, I started to walk faster, but in an instant she had swung me around, placed her hands on my neck and pulled me toward her. Oddly, it took me a moment to realize what she was doing, and despite her offensively brash exterior, her lips were soft and her kiss, while lacking passion, was extremely professional. Since kissing the head prefect’s daughter was not something I’d ever thought I’d end up doing, I placed both Constance and Jane at the back of my mind and gave as good as I got. I like to think I did all right with the kiss, despite little experience in these matters beyond what Lizzie the maid had taught me. It would have been unthinkably rude to pull away, so I waited until she relaxed, then gently separated myself.

“You dark red horse, you!” she said, giving me a shy smile and a playful jab on the sternum. “Why didn’t you tell me you could see so much red?”

“I didn’t want to seem a braggart,” I replied, regretting that she had been there to hear me speak of it.

She moved to kiss me again, but I didn’t want this to get out of hand. “What about Doug? I understand you and he are on a half promise?”

“Doug is very sweet,” she conceded, “but he’s likely only a fifty-percenter. It wasn’t a true half promise, anyway—more of a default position on my part. Do you really have Alpha Redness?”

“More or less.”

“If that is the case,” she said with a smile, “I’m going to speak to Mummy and Daddy about altering my marriage plans. If they agree, I’d be more than happy for us to be wed as soon after our Ishihara as possible.”

“Violet,” I said, beginning to see that this was getting monstrously out of control, if not a little scary, “I’m very flattered by your interest, but I’m on a half promise to an Oxblood back in Jade-under-Lime.”

“Tish!” she replied with a smile. “Conjoining with a Purple is considerably better than with an Oxblood.

How many people get to trade their surname up five steps in one hit? Edward deMauve . Sounds kind of classy, doesn’t it? And what’s more,” she added with a giggle, “my dad’s rolling in cash. Your father should demand at least ten grand for you. I’ll have my father speak to your father, and we’ll announce it just as soon as everything is set.”

She leaned over and kissed me again, smiled and whispered in my ear, “There’s more where that came from. Much more. Did you know that deMauve girls have a reputation for insatiability regarding the procreational arts and a one hundred two percent feedback rating?”

“I wasn’t aware of it.”

“Well, we do. I’ve gone to considerable lengths to prepare myself for my wedding night, and in respect of this, I don’t mind if you want to practice with a Grey so everything is functioning perfectly. I have an egg chit ready and waiting. You can impregnate me on our wedding night, so I’ll be with child by the spring—we can call her Crocus. Won’t that be simply glorious?”

“No,” I said. “In fact, not at all. Not one little—”

“Hush!” she said, placing a finger over my lips. “You’re a passenger now, my dove—no worries from here on in.”

She sighed happily, and then a cloud passed over her features. “Oh!” she cried, placing a hand to her mouth as a sudden thought hit her. “We’ll have to get a postponement on your High Saffron gig, at least until you’ve got me pregnant. That way it won’t matter so much when you don’t come back.”