Maximillian Fly

by Angie Sage

  Kaitlin is looking at me, her hands over her mouth. I see her cuff on her wrist and feel so bad about it. How did we get to this? But I don’t want to think about that, so I just keep talking. “I wasn’t totally surprised,” I say. “I always kind of knew that something bad had happened to Mom and Dad before we were born. There was a sadness about them, you know?”

  Kaitlin nods.

  “It’s not good to have a secret in a family, is it? It makes everything kind of skewed. Anyway, later that evening, while you were upstairs reading Jonno his bedtime story, I told Mom and Dad that I was old enough to know the truth. I said I wanted to know who was the woman who wanted to destroy us. And why? What had they done that was so terrible? But they wouldn’t tell me. I got so angry. I told them that seeing as my life was in danger too I had a right to know. But all they would say was it was safer for me if I didn’t know. So that’s when I stormed out. I walked around the streets for ages and then I made a decision. I was so upset; I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.

  “First I went to Mattie’s house, banged on the door and woke them all up. I told her we were through. Finished. And Mattie cried. So in the end I told her that I was too dangerous to know and she said that she didn’t care, she loved me whatever the danger. But I just turned and ran. I ran and I ran so I didn’t have to think anymore and I went straight to the Bartizan twenty-four-hour recruitment office and signed on. They took me, even though I wasn’t quite eighteen.”

  Kaitlin is staring at me. “Oh, Tomas . . .”

  “Yeah. Well. So after that I never had to think about anything. I did what they said, when they said. It was so easy. But all the time I kept an eye on what they were going to do to our family. And Mattie too.”

  “So you know Mattie’s on the SilverShip?” Kaitlin asks. “She got taken with me and Jonno when they raided the hut. Three days after Dad disappeared.”

  “Yeah, I know. How is she?”

  “She’s okay. She misses you. A lot.”

  “I miss her too,” I say. “Tell her that. Would you? Please?”

  “Yeah. Okay.” And then Kaitlin says what I’ve been expecting—and even thinking myself. “Tomas, you don’t have to do this. We can both get out of this. Go Underground. Find a Rat. Hide out with them.”

  I so wish we could, but I know there is nowhere to go. “There are no hiding places,” I tell her. “There’s nothing in this city that the Bartizan doesn’t know about. You’re better off on the SilverShip. At least you get a chance for a new life.”

  “You mean a chance to die of the Contagion,” Kait says.

  “No. There’s an island across the ocean that’s free of it. That’s where the ship goes. I’ve seen the maps.”

  “Rubbish,” she says.

  “It’s true,” I tell her.

  “No, it’s not,” she says. “It’s population control, that’s what it is—so the city doesn’t starve. And it means that parents daren’t put a foot wrong because they are terrified for their kids. Frankly, Tomas, it stinks.”

  I shrug. Nothing I say is going to change her mind. There is a rustle from behind the counter and the fat chef bustles over with our bacon sandwiches and coffee.

  We eat in silence. It feels like cardboard in my mouth.

  Chapter 13

  A Star

  K

  Tomas pays for the breakfast—much to the owner’s surprise—and then we are outside. It is getting warm now, a typical muggy morning when the air weighs heavy and seems to stick to your skin. Tomas walks fast. He appears to stare straight ahead, but I notice that his eyes are flicking from side to side like a snake as he checks for any threat. He takes good care not to look at me; the shutters have come down and he’s an Enforcer once more. I find it hard to believe that only a few minutes ago we were almost back to our old selves, just brother and sister. I’d rather not talk to him now he’s reverted to Enforcer mode, but this is the last few minutes we will ever spend together and there is something I really need to know. “Tomas,” I say. “Do you know what happened to Dad?”

  Tomas doesn’t even break his stride. “Sacrificed,” he says.

  I feel winded. This is such a brutal reply. “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “It’s what they call it.” Tomas has switched off. He’s not giving anything away now.

  “Call what, Tomas?”

  Tomas stops dead, taking me by surprise. It seems he can’t keep his Enforcer act up for very long now. “It’s what they call it when they leave someone in the Night Roach Steeple.”

  I feel sick. I’d always hoped that Dad had somehow escaped. Mom used to say he had a lucky star and that if there was a way out of something, Dad would find it. But I guess his luck ran out.

  “I went there as soon as I heard,” Tomas is saying. “I sat at the foot of the old church, beneath the steeple.”

  “I wish I could have been there too,” I whisper.

  “And then I just listened . . .”

  “To what?” I ask. This is awful. I imagine too many terrible sounds.

  Tomas gives a grin that looks like its hurting him. “To Dad’s old tin flute. He always had it with him, didn’t he? And he played so sweetly that evening. He played all his favorites and then he began on that lament that used to make Mom cry and halfway through he suddenly stopped. So I got up and went back to the barracks. And that was it.”

  There’s nothing more for us to say. We take the last sharp turn of Dog Leg Dive and I see, drenched in brilliant sunlight, the stark white of the marble paving that surrounds the foot of the Bartizan. Beyond is a high steel wall behind which the Bartizan tower rises up, a dark pillar of concrete streaked with black mold. I shield my eyes and squint up at the top, where the old water tower sticks out and I see the fancy wooden superstructure they stuck on top of it, with its line of dark little windows. Behind those lurks the Guardian, keeping an eye on the whole city like a spider at the center of his—or her—web. Rising up from the roof is the Bartizan skylon, a delicate metal lattice ascending into the misty sky. I remember how on summer nights Tomas and I used to go out into the fields and watch for the brilliant flashes of light that would sometimes zigzag out from the top of the skylon and arc across the Orb. It is hard to believe we had such happy times now.

  Tomas is moving fast. He wants to get it over with, I can tell. The entrance to the SilverShip is on the far side of the Square, and as we turn the corner I look up to see the metal wall and its creepy mural showing happy kids in SilverSeed uniforms walking hand in hand toward the entrance. As we stride along beside the mural, I think that we are a parody of those clear-eyed, immaculately dressed children—Tomas in his bloodstained, tattered CarboNet, and me in my equally bloodstained, crumpled SilverShip grays.

  And now we’re there. Standing before the big round arch cut with the sign above it saying Gateway to the Future in gold letters. There is a huge security door across it, and this is painted with a childish rendition of what they say Outside looks like: blue sky, white puffballs they call clouds, a long darker blue strip that I think is meant to be an ocean—a massive area of salt water apparently—and in the middle of that ocean a small, green island: the place to which the SilverShip is meant to be going.

  This entrance is where Jonno and I were brought in six months ago and it is also where some of the braver parents of the SilverSeeds gather every day. A group is here now, quiet and sad. I remember, in the old days when things like this only happened to other people, walking by here with Mom. I remember how she tried to explain why the people were waiting even though they knew they would never see their children again. “It is to bear witness,” she said. “As we all should do.”

  While we wait for the door to open, I turn away from Tomas and scan the watching faces. I see an initial flash of hope that I might be their own child somehow returned to them, and then sadness when they see I am not. And then, when people catch my eye, I see sympathy. Embarrassed, I look away, only to find myself confronted by images of laughing kids
in their neat SilverSeed uniforms that cluster around the archway. These are very weird. It’s not obvious when you first look at them, but they move. It’s only a little, like the first intimations of a smile, the blink of an eye, a breath of wind blowing the hair, but it is just enough to make them feel real. These are living ghosts, for every one of them is an actual kid who has long gone. Mom told me that some parents still visit these images of their children, even though by now they would be grown up and with children themselves—if they were alive, of course. I look at the crowd and wonder if any of those parents are here today.

  The security door is still closed—they are keeping us waiting. Tomas is tapping his foot anxiously and I can see a small muscle beneath his left eye twitching. People have started muttering bad things about Tomas. Knowing they are on my side calms me a little and I start to think again. And as I do, a plan comes to me. I feel a twinge of guilt about what it will do to Tomas but I tell myself that he could have let me go at any time and he chose not to. He got himself into this mess, not me.

  And so I begin to enact my plan. I gaze at the creepy pictures of the lost children as if they are old friends and I make an expression of happy anticipation creep across my face—at least I hope that’s what it is. It probably looks like I’ve eaten too much cheese or something. I smile for the security cameras above our heads and hope it works.

  At last, the door begins to slide open and someone calls out, “Run, girl, run!” Oh, how I’d love to, but I am still tied to Tomas. But if my plan works, in a few minutes I’ll be free of him. And then I will run. I’ll dive into that crowd and disappear out the other side. I know they’ll help me.

  The door is wide open now, revealing a brightly lit square lobby of one-way reinforced dark glass: a fish tank in which Tomas and I are the fish. We walk in and I seize my chance. “Tomas,” I say, loud and clear to make sure the sensors pick up every word, “I’m so sorry, but I am going to tell them the truth.”

  He looks at me, puzzled.

  I launch into my spiel. “I know I promised to protect you but I can’t do it, Tomas. I just can’t. I hope one day you’ll understand, but I’m a SilverSeed, and you just don’t have any idea how much that means to me.”

  He’s staring at me now, dumbfounded, but beneath the confusion I see consternation creeping into his eyes. Keep going, Kaitlin, I tell myself. Keep going.

  “Tomas, I know you only meant well when you tried to take me and Jonno away from this. I know you thought you were doing us a huge favor by planning our escape, but you just don’t get it, do you? This is my future.” I stop and swing my free arm around the listening walls of the fish tank as though it is the whole world before me. “My new life is waiting, and just because you can’t go—and thanks to you, neither can poor Jonno now—that is no reason to take it from me.”

  Tomas is staring at me, aghast. I can’t look at him anymore. I’m too deep in lies now. But with a thrill of excitement I realize I’ve got the upper hand and that my plan might even work. A wave of exhilaration sweeps over me and that is the only excuse I can give for the terrible thing I said next: “And it’s no reason to kill your crewmates either.”

  I can’t believe I just said that.

  The color drains from Tomas’s face as the implications of what I’ve said dawn on him. He sees that it is my word against his. In fact, it is worse than that, because I’ve not lost two crewmates: my credibility is not damaged. Tomas sees all of this and he looks like he is going to pass out.

  A glass panel in the corner slides open and a guard walks in. She looks at Tomas coldly. “Unclip the Seed,” she tells him, with ice in her voice.

  In a daze, Tomas unclips the end of the cord from his belt. “You lying little toad,” he says as the cord falls to the floor with a clang, pulling my wrist down with it.

  “Step away from the Seed!” the guard barks. And when Tomas, stunned, does not move, she yells, “Now, now, now!”

  Tomas jumps aside and I see he is shaking. I’m feeling really bad about this, but I tell myself that it was his choice to bring me here. Two more guards enter and take Tomas roughly by the arms. He winces and I see how much his shoulders hurt him. But I am not going to feel bad about Tomas. I am not. I am not.

  I fix the guard with what I hope is an earnest gaze. “I’d like to put these good people’s minds at rest,” I say, and with my tie-free hand I indicate the crowd outside, who are staring in at us with horrified fascination. “I want to tell them how much the chance to be on the SilverShip means to me. Would you allow me to go and talk to them?” Oh, I feel like such a creep. But I can’t stop now.

  The guard frowns. “It is most irregular,” she says.

  I nod, as if accepting it. “I understand,” I say. “And anyway, what I really want to do is get back to my crew.” I do a huge smile and make sure it goes to my eyes too. “I’m just so happy to be back and I wanted to share it.”

  I see Tomas staring at me with a grudging admiration. He’s worked out what I’m doing, and he is not going to stop me. In fact, to my amazement, he is going to help me. “She’s the best advert for the SilverShip you’ll ever get,” he tells the guard. “She talks of nothing else. You’re lucky to have her.”

  The guard is listening to her headset. “Okay. Sure. We’ll go with it,” she murmurs into her microphone. She nods curtly to Tomas. “Remove the Seed’s wrist tie.” Tomas does just that and I take care not to meet his eye while he cuts the tie, as I’m afraid the cameras will see something between us. The cable falls to the floor and I am free. But I don’t move. Not yet. The guard is way too close.

  “Silver Seed one-nine-five-two,” the guard addresses me by my crew number.

  “Yes, ma’am?” I say, all bright and happy.

  “You have clearance to speak,” the guard says. “Out you go now. And well done.” I’m shocked. She sounds so human.

  And so I walk out into the sunshine to the waiting audience, which has grown to maybe fifty now. And I lie to them with all my heart and soul.

  T

  I’m watching my sister give the performance of her life. She tells the people all the usual stuff about the camaraderie of the SilverShip crew and the exciting prospect of the new life waiting for them on the Island. It is the stuff they hear all the time from the Bartizan, but it is so much more powerful coming from the mouth of a bedraggled kid who just glows with pride at being part of it. I don’t know how she does it. And I am astounded at her ruthlessness.

  My commander enters the fish tank. She strides up to me with a face like thunder. “Marne,” she barks. “The remains of one of your crew were retrieved from the foot of the Silo at first light. The other was found dead with a knife wound to the heart at the entrance to Thin Murk. And all the while you were hiding like the pathetic little coward you are.”

  I gasp. “No! I was prisoner. Of a Roach.” I don’t know why I bother. Nothing I say now will make any difference.

  The comm looks right through me. “Tomas Marne,” she says in her official drone. “You are now designated sole survivor of Enforcer group Kilo Tango. And you know what that makes you, don’t you?”

  Of course I know. It’s the first thing we learn at induction. If you lose both your crew, you’re a traitor. Don’t ask me why. That is just the way it is. “Traitor,” I whisper. “It makes me a traitor.”

  While my sister is still acting her heart out, I am marched out of the fish tank into a network of corridors. And I know exactly where they are leading me: to the Astro Room.

  K

  To my amazement, people listen to me. I tell them how wonderful it is to be a SilverSeed, how happy we all are, the camaraderie, the sense of purpose . . . blah, blah, blah . . . and then before they have a chance to lose interest, I stop. I say I must go, that I cannot wait to go back to my crew.

  And now my moment has come. It is time to run. Time to get back to Jonno and tell him everything is all right. Time to thank Maximillian for all he did for us. Time for Jonno and I to take
our chance together. Out of the corner of my eye I see that Tomas has gone and there is only one guard left. She is leaning against the wall, relaxed and pleased to be part of this. The crowd are murmuring among themselves, casting glances my way. I can run now and I know they will help me. Now is my chance. Take it, Kaitlin, take it. Now!

  But I don’t take it. After all that, I don’t take it. Instead, I turn around and walk back into the fish tank. “Take me to my crew,” I tell the guard. The doors slide closed behind me, and as the sunlight vanishes, I think that maybe I have gone crazy.

  Chapter 14

  Sun Biscuits

  M

  I, Maximillian Fly, am on my way to my dear friend Andronicus. I am running low through the Underground with the smell of the blood in my head and fear for my young Wingless one in my heart. I cannot help but imagine her terror as the Vermin took her away. How the Vermin got free I do not know. Do you know, young watcher? Yes, I know you’re here. I can feel you following me through the darkness. You do know, don’t you?

  I am in the most ancient part of the Underground now, on a crossing where the well-worn cobbles tell of many hundreds of years of footfall. I turn left beneath a brick-lined archway into a wide, low tunnel and, with my goggles casting their two green pools of light before me, I begin to climb upward again. This is a very civilized tunnel, lined with pleasing little brick archways at regular intervals, numbered for the houses they lead to above. The house of Andronicus is number twelve and it is toward the end. I reach his barred gate and, on two legs now, I flip open the catch. I hurry through the earthy cellar, up the rickety wooden steps and pull hard on a lever. The hatch above flies open and I hear a shrill scream on the other side. I stick my head up and the scream is repeated. It is Minna Simms. I apologize and then I wonder why it is I who apologize, for it is my delicate ear tubes that are buzzing, not hers.