She reached up and slowly pulled it down to reveal the ghastly burns coating half of her face and the sinewy hole in her cheek. The officer looked repulsed. Immediately, I realized that the blemish must not have been featured in the identity Mazrah provided for her.
“How’d you get that, Ringer?” he questioned.
“Cooking oil spill on board a while back,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation.
“Well, put that thing back on before you scare somebody. Your baggage is clear—move along. Next!”
Maya passed through the full-body scanner clean, and Vick stepped up. His passage went much smoother. I was after him, and predictably, my heart thumped uncontrollably. I fake-coughed over and over again. I was fortunate I hadn’t slept, leaving my eyes red and with a slightly glassy appearance. I repeated my fake name over and over in my head, just in case.
The officer snatched my ID from my clammy hands and gave it a scan. I saw the top of his screen. My face popped up; however, everything from the bridge of my nose down had been altered in a manner that was unexpectedly familiar. My memory of my dad was fuzzy, but I was pretty sure it was him at my age. I feigned a series of even more guttural coughs than earlier and rubbed my eyes.
“Mask,” the officer grumbled, clearly tired of repeating the order.
“Is that necessary, sir?” Again, I coughed.
“Just for a second, Ringer. C’mon, you’re holding up the line.”
“I’m worried I caught something on board…Please. I can’t risk it.”
He sighed. He glanced back at his partner, who monitored the bags, and they exchanged shrugs. The officer then leaned forward and stared straight into my eyes, so close that I actually did get nervous about germs.
“You do look like shit,” he said. “Decon-chamber on the way home should sort you out. Let’s go.”
He placed my ID back into my gloved hand and beckoned me along. I hesitated for a moment, shocked that it had worked, and then shuffled forward. I maintained my cough all the way through the scanner, until I found Vick and Maya waiting on the other side. Gareth came through with our supplies soon after. Nothing suspicious about a Ringer hoarding ration bars and water packets.
We were in.
Chapter 21
Pervenio Station’s main concourse wasn’t anywhere near as busy with foot traffic as it usually was. Instead, I noticed that the entertainment venues running alongside it were overly packed. Security seemed low outside of the hangar as well. I was used to seeing an officer posted on the station at every corner, but all the way down the gently arcing hall I spotted only a thinly spread handful.
“Don’t need these,” Maya said. She tossed her stolen luggage into a trash compactor bin. Everyone but Gareth did the same. Our Ring Skipper staff hats also went in, which thankfully made the oppressive heat of the Earther-run station more bearable.
“So how do we contact Mazrah?” I asked.
“We’ll need the best terminal out there. As minimal transmittal delays as possible.”
“Where do you plan on getting one of those?”
The corners of her sanitary mask lifted from a smile underneath. “Like everybody else.”
Maya headed toward a tech shop nestled between two bars. She strolled right in, past all the screens and automated dispensers displaying Pervenio-made gadgets for sale. Terminals,
timepieces, health monitors—all of the things people with credits used to make sure they were never late, never disconnected, and lived longer than any human ought to. She strutted right up to the counter and requested the same V3X model I’d stolen from John what seemed like an eternity ago. Five thousand credits. A shift’s worth of Piccolo work in pay, and that was before Pervenio and USF colonial taxes.
The Earther shop-keep was so short I could see only his big head above the counter. His eyes lit up when Maya slapped her ID down without a care in the world. Like John would have. My real ID used to be linked directly to my credit account, so her sister must’ve done the same to hers…or to the Children of Titan’s. For a group that cursed credits, I couldn’t help but wonder how much they had.
“You’re sure?” the keep asked. “I have a few cheaper models over here—”
“No, I want this one,” Maya said with confidence. “Been working for years—might as well get the best.”
“If you say so.” He retrieved the shiny device from his display counter. “V3X it is. If you’d just have your friends there wait outside, I’ll get it registered straightaway.”
She glanced back at us, and we took the cue. We stepped into the concourse and waited outside of a bar where the words NO GLOVES OR MASKS ALLOWED were projected beside the entrance.
“She does a good impression of one of them, doesn’t she,” Vick said.
‘Must hurt her,’ Gareth signed in response.
“Guys, look,” I said.
The bar was separated from the hall only by a hip-height partition, and every single Earther patron on the other side of it was crowded around a view-screen. Their drinks were all lowered and they were so silent it was like they were attending a funeral.
On the screen, a news correspondent stood in the tram station within the Darien Q-Zone. A place I was all too familiar with. We were too far away to hear her, but the tram was parked in the Q-Zone station, with armed Pervenio Security Officers swarming about it. Countless sick Ringers were being herded by them, marched along like they’d committed a crime and shoved into the tram cars. I also caught a glimpse through one of the space’s narrow viewports of Pervenio dropships hovering outside.
“What the fuck is this?” Vick said, echoing my own sentiments.
Our peoples had one unspoken agreement: Leave our sick alone unless all the proper precautions were taken. But the decon-chambers at the end of the waiting area were powered off and being used like rotating doors by officers and ailing Ringers. The reporter wasn’t wearing a helmet or a mask, and neither were many of the higher-ranking officers.
Suddenly, a Ring-wide address was broadcast through every speaker and view-screen in our vicinity. The Voice of Titan, Director Sodervall himself, popped up. He appeared more exhausted than ever. His wrinkles cut deeper and the whites of his eyes were as pink as mine, like he too hadn’t slept proper in days.
“People of the Ring,” he announced, his tone autocratic yet solemn. “According to reports, the terrorists behind the Piccolo attack are hiding out in caverns somewhere below the Darien Q-Zone. All tram-lines have been suspended until further notice as peaceful efforts are made to displace the residents to a contained area of Darien for a brief period of time while the investigation commences. I assure you, nobody who is innocent will be harmed. Soon, this war being waged in the shadows will be extinguished and we will have peace. The fight to ensure our survival rests in all of our hands.”
The feed cut out, replaced by the usual talking heads discussing the Director’s announcements and defending all of his words. Peaceful efforts? This was the greatest show of force I’d ever seen in my lifetime. The massed officers weren’t flaunting shock-batons. They wielded pulse-rifles, fingers on triggers, ready to blow a hole in someone even though they were surrounded solely by the frail and dying.
It was infuriating. Gareth grabbed the rail of the low divider and squeezed like he was choking the life out of someone. I’d never seen him display such emotion. Vick’s usual smirk vanished, replaced by pure abhorrence.
“Mazrah’s in,” Maya said to us. We turned to see her staring down at her hand-terminal. The look on her face surprised me. It wasn’t brimming with the unbridled hatred I’d expected her to radiate after hearing the Director’s message, but sorrow.
“Mai, are you seeing this?” Vick asked.
“We have to move.”
“Maya!”
“We have to move. As soon as security finds those staff members on the Ring Skipper this place will be shut down tight.”
She started to walk, leaving us no choice but to follow. She
was moving at a brisk pace, but I caught her, and grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Stop!” I said. “You knew this was coming, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
She stopped and faced me. She was breathing heavily. “I have no reason to lie to you! Mazrah just told me the orders to sweep the Q-Zone came from Luxarn Pervenio himself.”
“By Trass…How many people were you hiding under there?”
“Not enough to warrant this. There is a Pervenio army down there. Look around. Security has never been this light on the station because he sent them all to Darien. Mazrah said transports arrived by the dozens to maintain order before they went in. The feeds won’t show it, but the Lowers are going crazy. Everything is shut down. It’s…” She gathered her breath. I could tell that beneath her sanitary mask, her lips were trembling. “It’s happening.”
“What is? What’s going on?”
“They pushed too far,” Vick said. “Pervenio’s lost his mind.”
“Focus!” Maya snapped, startling the three of us. “This is what you wanted, Kale, and now whatever’s happening down there has cleared our path. There is no time to waste. Mazrah is inside the surveillance systems watching over us.”
“Can she see Cora?” I asked excitedly. “Can she see the others?”
“Everything in the detention block is on a local server. Accessing it right now is too risky until we’re there, but logs say no prisoners have been released since the Piccolo’s crew was taken in.”
I nodded earnestly, and Maya gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get to them soon enough. Now, when I say ‘Move,’ or ‘Turn,’ or anything, follow me exactly. The detention block is only accessible by tram, so we need an officer. Follow me.”
“Where—” Vick began, but Maya stared daggers in his direction to shut him up.
“Follow.”
She set off fast again, and it took every ounce of my energy to keep up. It was impossible not to notice the newsfeeds reporting on the situation inside of every venue we passed. Earthers who managed to pry their attention off the screens were scrutinizing us, along with all of the other Ringers arriving at the station after the recall from Saturn. The few security officers posted about stood at attention, trying their best to appear calm. I could see clearly that they weren’t. With so many on Titan, they were the worst of what Pervenio had to offer. Something contorted their features. Something drew their hands toward the grips of their weapons.
Fear.
Maya spotted the most panicked of them and led us toward him. He stood alone outside the gate of an empty hangar with no departure scheduled. His hair was matted to his forehead as he perspired uncontrollably. His gaze danced nervously from side to side.
“Stop,” Maya said to us, glancing down at her hand-terminal, where Mazrah provided directions. We listened. “Wait. Surveillance will be cut in five…” She finished counting down, and then approached the officer.
His shoulders rose and fell with each of his nervous breaths. As Maya got closer to him, I realized what she meant when she’d said we needed an officer. She was going to take him down—an Earther, wearing armor that likely augmented his strength and a weighted boiler-suit underneath. Not to mention that while we were now unarmed, he had a pulse-rifle on his back, a shock-baton dangling from one hip, and a sidearm holstered on the other that wasn’t snapped in, enabling him to get to it quickly.
I had no time to stop her.
“Sir, can you help me with something?” she said to him, utilizing the sort of gentle, unassuming voice I wouldn’t have imagined could derive from her mouth. As she spoke, she allowed her sanitary mask to drop.
When the Earther noticed her grisly scars, he froze, giving her the opening to slide to his flank, snatch his sidearm, and aim it at him. Her back was facing the corridor, and with the three of us behind, anyone passing by would just assume we were all having a conversation.
His arms rose. She pressed the pulse-pistol firmly against his chest plate with one hand. With the other, she switched off the Pervenio com-link built into the neck area of his armor. “Arms at your side,” she growled. “Eyes on me. Understand?”
He managed a nod.
“What’s your name?” she asked
He stuttered, “Hay…Hayden.”
“You have a clan-family, Hayden?”
“I…uh…Yes. Amissum.”
“Well, the four of us are the ones who took down the Piccolo, I’m sure you’ve seen.” She typed something into her hand-terminal with one hand and read the response. “The Amissum clan-family holds their main residence just outside of New London. If you don’t do exactly what I ask, I’ll make you watch as we do the same thing to every single member of your family, and then you’ll go out last.” His eyes bulged. They wandered toward Vick, Gareth, and me, but Maya lifted the gun and aimed it right under his chin. “Eyes on me.”
He obeyed. Sweat poured down his forehead. He looked like the crew of the Piccolo had when we were locked in the harvesting bay, awaiting our inevitable doom. “Please, don’t shoot. What…What do you want?”
“I need you to get us onto the tram to the station’s detention block. Pretend we’re detainees on route for questioning for contraband discovered in our belongings.”
“What contraband…?”
“You’ll see. No more questions. Will you help, or do I have to find another officer?” She pushed the barrel of the pistol into the upper part of his neck so hard that he gagged.
“I’ll do it!” he yelped. “Just don’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s all up to you. Now, remove your rifle. Slowly.”
He reached onto his back, detached his pulse-rifle, and slowly brought it around in front of him, fingers stretched away from the trigger. Maya grabbed it and handed it to Gareth, who emptied its clip into our supply bag. She then shoved it back into the officer’s gut before taking his shock-baton and smashing the switch used to ignite it against the wall, breaking it.
“There we go,” Maya said. “Now walk. Gareth, stay on him.”
Gareth took the pistol and fell in directly behind the officer as he started moving. He kept it inside the supply bag, pressed firmly against Hayden’s back. Maya was behind them, head down and focused on her hand-terminal. I was behind her, as anxious as Hayden that we were going to be spotted and mowed down. I could feel Vick’s rapid breaths on the back of my neck.
“Trust her,” he whispered into my ear.
Chapter 22
The security tram station wasn’t far. Hayden led us toward two officers posted outside, empty rifle in his hands. Maya typed something into her hand-terminal and then we all pretended that our wrists were cuffed.
“Mazrah’s now got control of the scanners and cameras inside,” she relayed to us. Then she leaned over Gareth’s shoulder and whispered to Hayden, “Take us in. Act confident.”
“Bringing them in for questioning,” Hayden said to the officers as we passed them. They were too focused on a newsfeed about what was happening down on Titan to offer him any more than a nod.
Inside, a scanner was planted in front of the tram-line spouting up through the ceiling. One had a sleek, vertically oriented car waiting at it. A listless female officer sat at a booth beside the scanner, chin resting in her palm.
“Bringing them in for questioning,” Hayden said to her. This time his voice cracked from nerves.
“For what?” she droned.
He took a deep breath. “Found illegal contraband in one of their bags.”
Gareth gave him the bag, careful to angle his pistol hand so that it remained aiming into the officer’s hip, unseen. Hayden placed it on her desk. She peeked through the top and no doubt saw a pile of bullets sitting on top of ration bars. Her jaded expression barely shifted. “Thought they could get this through security, eh?” She shook her head and sighed. “Fucking Ringers. You call it in yet?”
Hayden stammered and looked from side to side.
Gareth nudged him. “Uh, yeah,” he answered.
The woman typed into her computer and read something on the screen. “All right, I see the report right here,” she said. It didn’t take me long to realize one had already somehow been forged by Mazrah. “Ring Skipper staff caught smuggling ammo.”
“They’re unarmed, so they’re probably only trying to sell it. No need for alarm, but the Director wants them interrogated nonetheless. You know, considering what’s going on.”
“I hear you. I’ll just need to register your ID, and then you can take the Ringers along through the scanner.”
Hayden dug his hand into a pouch along his belt. He stepped toward the desk, leaving Gareth a few feet behind him. One whisper to the woman and we’d all be compromised. I wasn’t sure what would happen then, but I could imagine. The mute Ringer’s finger threaded the trigger of his pistol, ready to fire.
Hayden wisely took Maya’s threats seriously. He handed over his ID and waited for it to clear without a word. The woman was too uninterested to question the sweat glistening on his forehead. She returned the card and our supply bag to him before ushering him along.
“All right,” he turned to us and said, swallowing. “Let’s go. In the car.”
Hayden passed through the scanner first and strapped into one of the car’s horizontal seats. Gareth went next, pistol and all, and strolled through without setting off even a chirp of an alarm. More of Mazrah’s handiwork. The rest of us followed, and before I knew it we were shooting up through the core of Pervenio Station, toward the detention block of its security headquarters.
The car was organized so that we were all lying in a circle with our feet aimed toward the center. Rock-strewn walls raced by through vertical viewports behind us.
“The detention block itself will be lightly defended, but it’s connected to the main security headquarters,” Maya said, still staring at her hand-terminal. “Even with what’s happening on Titan, there will be a ton of officers only a short run away.”
“Can Mazrah lock them out?” I asked.
From Ice to Ashes Page 23
