Specials

by Scott Westerfeld

  Glancing up at the stars, she calculated angles and directions. . . .

  The Smokies were headed out toward the river, where they could use magnetics. Carrying two passengers per board, they needed all the lift they could get. “Ho, head for the western edge of the Trails. Fast!”

  “Why?”

  “To save time!” She had to keep her quarry in sight. The Smokies might be invisible, but the two captive Specials shone like infrared beacons.

  “Okay, I’m coming,” Ho answered. “But what’s going on again?”

  Tally didn’t respond, whipping through the treetops like a slalom rider. Ho wasn’t going to like what Tally had to do, but there was no other choice. That was Shay out there, being dragged away by David. This was Tally’s chance to pay her back for all those old mistakes.

  To prove that she was really special.

  • • •

  Ho was there, waiting where the dark trees of the Trails began to thin.

  “Hey, Tally,” he said as she zoomed toward him. “Why are you riding that piece of junk?”

  “Long story.” She twisted to a halt beside him.

  “Yeah, well, could you please tell me what’s—” He let out a startled cry as Tally pushed him off his board, sending him tumbling into the darkness below.

  “Sorry, Ho-la,” she said, stepping from the Smokey board onto his and angling it toward the river. Its lifting fans spun to life as she crossed the city’s border. “Need to borrow your ride. Don’t have time to explain.”

  Another grunt reached her ears as Ho’s bracelets brought his fall to a halt. “Tally! What the—”

  “They’ve got Shay. Fausto, too. Tachs is back in the Trails, unconscious. Go make sure he’s okay.”

  “What?” Ho’s voice was fading as Tally shot out into the wild, leaving the city’s network repeaters behind. She scanned the horizon and caught distant flickers of infrared, like two glowing eyes ahead—Fausto and Shay.

  The hunt was still on.

  “We got jumped. Aren’t you listening?” She bared her teeth. “And Shay said no calls to Dr. Cable. We don’t want any help with this.” Tally was certain Shay would hate for Special Circumstances to find out that the Cutters—Dr. Cable’s very special Specials—had been made fools of.

  For that matter, a squadron of screaming hovercars would only let the Smokies know that they were being followed. All alone, Tally might be able to sneak up on them.

  She leaned forward, coaxing every bit of speed from her borrowed board, Ho’s protests fading behind her.

  She was going to catch them. There were five Smokies and two captives on four boards; no way could they make top speed. Tally just had to remember that they were random, and she was special.

  She still had a chance to rescue Shay, capture David, and make this all okay.

  RESCUE

  Tally flew low and fast, barely skimming the surface of the river, staring into the dark trees on either side.

  Where were they?

  The Smokies couldn’t be that far in front—not with only a couple of minutes’ head start. But like her, they were flying low, using the mineral deposits in the winding riverbed for extra push, keeping under cover of the trees. Even the special-hot infrared glow of Shay’s and Fausto’s bodies couldn’t penetrate the dark cloak of the forest. And that was a problem.

  What if they’d already pulled off the river, sneaking into the trees to watch her fly past? On their stolen boards, the Smokies could head off in any direction they wanted.

  Tally needed a few seconds up in the sky, looking down. But the Smokies also had infrared. To take a peek without giving herself away, she would have to cool her body temperature way down.

  She looked into the dark water rushing past her feet and shivered.

  This was not going to be fun.

  Tally spun to a stop, freezing spray spitting up from the tail of her board, tickling her arms and face, sending another shiver through her bones. The river was running fast, filled to the brim with melted snow rolling down from the mountains, as chill as a champagne bucket back in bubblehead days.

  “Wonderful,” Tally said with a scowl, then stepped from the board.

  With toes pointed, she barely made a splash, but the freezing water set her heart pounding madly. In seconds her teeth began to chatter, her muscles clenching, threatening to snap her bones. She pulled Ho’s board down into the water beside her, and the lifting fans spat out tendrils of steam as they cooled.

  Tally began an endless, torturous count of ten, wishing bad luck and destruction down on David, the Smokies, and whoever it was who’d first invented freezing water. The cold seeped into her body, making her nerves scream and leaching deep into her bones.

  But then it hit her, the special moment. It was like when she cut herself, the pain building until she could hardly stand it anymore . . . then suddenly flipping inside out. And hidden within the agony the strange clarity came again, as if the world had ordered itself into something that made perfect sense.

  Just as Dr. Cable had promised so long ago, this was better than bubbly. All of Tally’s senses were on fire, but her mind seemed to stand apart from them, observing their sensations without being overwhelmed.

  She was non-random, above average . . . almost beyond human. And she had been made to save the world.

  Tally stopped counting and let out a slow, calm breath, and bit by bit, her shivering faded away. The icy water had lost its power.

  She pulled herself back onto Ho’s board, grasping its edges with bone-pale knuckles. It took three tries to snap her numbed fingers loud enough, but finally the hoverboard began to rise into the dark sky, climbing as high as the cool and silent magnetic lifters would take it. As she cleared the trees, the wind hit like an avalanche of cold, but Tally ignored it, her eyes sweeping across the marvelously clear world below.

  There they were—only a kilometer or so ahead—a flicker of boards against the black water, a glimpse of a glowing human in infrared. The Smokies seemed to be going slowly, hardly moving at all. Maybe they were resting, unaware that they were being followed. But to Tally, it was as if her moment of icy focus had stopped them in their tracks.

  She let the board drop, falling out of sight before her body heat could cut through the chill of soaked clothes. The costume dorm uniform clung to her like a wet woolen blanket. Pulling off the jacket, Tally let it fall into the river.

  Her board roared back to life, skimming forward with fans fully engaged, leaving a meter-high wake.

  Tally might be soaking and frozen to the bone, and only one against five, but the dunking had cleared her head. She felt her special senses dissecting the forest around her, her instincts spinning, her mind calculating from the stars overhead exactly how long it would take to catch up.

  Her hands flexed numbly, but Tally knew that they were the only weapons she needed, no matter what other little tricks the Smokies had brought along.

  She was ready for this fight.

  Sixty seconds later, she saw it: a lone hoverboard waiting for her, just past a bend in the river. Its rider stood calmly, black silhouette holding the glowing form of a Special.

  Tally swirled to a halt, whipping in a tight circle to scan the trees. The forest’s deep purple background was filled with half-glimpsed shapes whipped into motion by the wind, but no human forms.

  She looked at the dark figure blocking the river before her. The sneak suit hid his face, but Tally remembered the way David stood on a hoverboard: his back foot pointed forty-five degrees out, like a dancer waiting for the music to start. And she could feel that it was him.

  The glowing-hot form sagging in his arms had to be Shay, still unconscious.

  “You saw me following you?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, but I knew you would.”

  “What is this? Another ambush?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “While your friends get farther away?” Tally’s hands flexed, but she didn’t shoot fo
rward and attack. It was strange to hear David’s voice again. It traveled clearly over the rushing water, carrying a hint of nerves.

  She realized that he was scared of her.

  Of course he was, but it still felt strange. . . .

  “Can you remember me?” he asked.

  “What do you think, David?” Tally scowled. “I remembered you even when I was a bubblehead. You always made a big impression.”

  “Good,” he said, like she’d meant that as a compliment. “Then you remember the last time you saw me. You’d figured out how the city had messed up your head. You forced yourself to think clearly again, not like a pretty. And you escaped. Remember?”

  “I remember my boyfriend lying on a pile of blankets, half-brain-dead,” she said. “Thanks to those pills your mother cooked up.”

  At the mention of Zane, a tremor went through David’s dark form. “That was a mistake.”

  “A mistake? You mean, you sent those pills to me accidentally?”

  He shifted on the board. “No. But we warned you about the risks. Don’t you remember?”

  “I remember everything now, David! I can finally see.” Her mind was clear, Special-clear, untangled from wild, ugly emotions and bubbleheadedness, fully realizing the truth of what the Smokies were. They weren’t revolutionaries; they were nothing but egomaniacs, playing with lives, leaving broken people in their wake.

  “Tally,” he pleaded softly, but she just laughed. Tally’s flash tattoos were spinning wildly, pushed into furious motion by the freezing water and her anger. Her mind focused to a razor point, and saw his outline clearer with every beat of her pounding heart.

  “You steal children, David, city kids who don’t know how dangerous it is out in the wild. And you play games with them.”

  He shook his head. “I never . . . I never meant to play games with you, Tally. I’m sorry.”

  She started to answer, but saw David’s signal just in time. It was nothing but a flicker of one finger, but her mind was so sharp that the tiny movement bloomed like fireworks against the dark.

  Tally’s awareness shot out in all directions, searching the blackness around her. The Smokies had chosen a spot where half-submerged rocks added to the water’s roar, covering any subtle sounds, but somehow Tally felt the moment of attack.

  An instant later, her peripheral vision caught the arrows on their way: one from each side, like two fingers crushing a bug. Her mind slowed time to a half-dead crawl. Less than a second from hitting, the missiles were too close for gravity to pull her down, no matter how fast she bent her knees. But Tally didn’t need gravity. . . .

  Her hands shot up from her sides, elbows bending, fingers curling into fists around the arrow shafts. They slid a few centimeters through her palms, the friction burning like snuffing a candle, but their momentum choked in her grip.

  The electric buzz in their tips sputtered for an angry moment, close enough that Tally felt the heat on both cheeks, and then the arrows fizzled in frustration.

  Her eyes were still locked on David, and even through the sneak suit she saw his jaw drop open, a small, amazed sound carrying across the water.

  She let out a sharp laugh.

  His voice was shaking. “What have they done to you now, Tally?”

  “They made me see,” she said

  He shook his head sadly, then pushed Shay into the river.

  She fell forward limply, smacking the water face-first and hard. David whirled around on his board, kicking up a spray as he bolted away. The two archers zoomed out from the trees and followed, boards roaring to life.

  “Shay!” Tally cried, but the unmoving body was already slipping under, dragged down by the weight of crash bracelets and soaked clothing. Shay’s infrared colors began to change in the cold water, hands fading from bright yellow to orange. The fast current carried her under Tally, who threw the spent arrows aside, spun on one heel, and dove into the freezing river.

  A few panicked strokes brought her up beside the dimly glowing form, and she reached out to grab Shay’s hair, yanking her head out of the water. Flash tattoos hardly moved on the pale face, but then Shay shuddered and emptied her lungs with a sudden cough.

  “Shay-la!” Tally twisted in the water, getting a better grip.

  Shay waved her arms weakly, then coughed up more water. But her flash tattoos were gradually coming back to life, spinning faster as her heartbeat strengthened. Her face glowed brighter in infrared as flowing blood began to warm it back up.

  Tally shifted her grip, struggling to keep both their heads above water, signaling with her crash bracelet. Her borrowed board responded with a magnetic tug, on its way.

  Shay’s eyes opened, blinking a few times. “That you, Tally-wa?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Quit pulling my hair.” Shay coughed again.

  “Oh, sorry.” Tally untangled her fingers from the wet strands. When the hoverboard nudged her from behind, she slung an arm over it, wrapping the other around Shay. A long shiver traveled through them both.

  “Water’s cold . . . ,” Shay said. Her lips were almost blue in Tally’s infrared.

  “No kidding. But it woke you up, at least.” She managed to lift Shay onto the board, getting her upright. She sat there, huddled miserably against the breeze while Tally stayed in the river, staring up into her glassy eyes. “Shay-la? Do you know where you are?”

  “You woke me up, so I was . . . asleep?” Shay shook her head, closing her eyes in concentration. “Crap. That means they got me with one of those stupid arrows.”

  “Not an arrow; David had a shock-stick in his hand.”

  Shay spat into the river. “He cheated. Throwing Tachs at me.” She frowned, opening her eyes again. “Is Tachs okay?”

  “Yeah. I caught him before he hit the ground. Then David tried to take you away. But I got you back.”

  Shay managed a thin smile. “Good job, Tally-wa.”

  Tally felt a thin, shivery grin on her face.

  “What about Fausto?”

  Tally sighed again as she pulled herself up onto the board, its fans spinning into motion under her weight. “They took him, too.” She glanced up the river, seeing nothing but darkness. “And they’re long gone by now, I guess.”

  Shay wrapped a shivering, wet arm around Tally. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him back.” She glanced down, confused. “So how did I get in the river?”

  “They flew you out here, used you as bait. They wanted to capture me, too. But I was too fast for them, so David pushed you in to distract me, I suppose. Or maybe he was trying to give the other Smokies time to get away, the ones with Fausto.”

  “Hmm. That’s a little insulting,” Shay said.

  “What is?”

  “They used me as a decoy instead of Fausto?”

  Tally grinned and squeezed Shay harder. “Maybe they were more sure I’d stop for you.”

  Shay coughed into a fist. “Well, when I catch them, they’re going to wish they’d dumped me off a cliff instead.” She took a deep breath, her lungs finally drawing clear. “Funny though. It’s not like the Smokies, throwing someone into freezing water while they’re unconscious. Know what I mean?”

  Tally nodded. “Maybe they’re getting desperate.”

  “Maybe.” Shay shivered again. “It’s like living out in nature is turning them into Rusties. You can kill people with bows and arrows, after all. I kind of liked them better the old way.”

  “Me too,” Tally sighed. The razor-sharpness of her anger was fading, leaving her spirit as soggy as her clothing. No matter how hard she’d tried to fix everything, Fausto was still gone, and David too.

  “Anyway, thanks for the rescue, Tally-wa.”

  “That’s okay, Boss.” Tally took her friend’s hand. “So . . . are we even now?”

  Shay laughed, wrapping her arm around Tally, her grin widening to reveal every one of her pointed teeth. “You and I don’t have to worry about being even, Tally-wa.”

  Tally felt
a burst of warmth, like she always did when Shay smiled. “Really?”

  Shay nodded. “We’re too busy being special.”

  • • •

  They met Ho back at the ambush site. He’d managed to get Tachs awake, and had put in a call to the rest of the Cutters. They were twenty minutes away, bringing extra boards and screaming for revenge.

  “Don’t worry about getting even, we’ll be visiting the Smokies soon enough,” Shay said, without bothering to mention the problem with that plan: No one knew where the New Smoke was. In fact, no one was sure if it was anywhere at all. Since the original Smoke had been destroyed, the Smokies kept moving from one spot to another. And now that they had four brand-new Special Circumstances hoverboards, they’d be even harder to pin down.

  While Shay and Tally wrung out their wet clothes, Ho and Tachs wandered around the darkness of the Trails, looking for clues. Soon they found the hoverboard that the Smokey girl had abandoned.

  “Check the charge on that thing,” Shay ordered Tachs. “At least we can figure out how far they had to fly to get here.”

  “Good idea, Boss,” Tally said. “No solar recharging at night, after all.”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling really brilliant,” Shay said. “But a distance doesn’t tell us much. We need more.”

  “We’ve got more, Boss,” Ho said. “Like I was trying to tell Tally right before she shoved me off my board, I had a conversation with that ugly kid at the bash. The one the Smokey girl was giving nanos? Before I handed him over to the wardens, I managed to scare him a little.”

  Tally didn’t doubt that. Ho’s flash tattoos included a demon’s face drawn over his own features, its bloodred lines shifting through a sequence of wild expressions in time with his pulse.

  Shay snorted. “That little punk knew where the New Smoke was?”

  “Not a chance. But he knew where he was supposed to take the nanos.”

  “Let me guess, Ho-la,” Shay said. “New Pretty Town?”

  “Yeah, of course.” He held up the plastic bag. “But these weren’t just for anyone, Boss. He was supposed to take them to the Crims.”