Jay slowly turned back around, gaping at Shiloh like a fish out of water. “I—you—that was a long time ago, and you are way too—for your own good!”
“Too what?” Shiloh grinned. “Perceptive?”
“Nosy.” Jay was shaking his head, but he didn’t look upset. More like impressed and a little awed. “We are so related.”
“Really, Indra would probably love hearing about his big brother.” Shiloh’s smile faded into something more serious. “I bet you have some good memories too.”
“Yeah—a bunch?” Jay dragged his hands down his face. “But it just sounds weird? ‘Hey, kid, I’ve dedicated the last ten years to finding proof that your brother didn’t screw over the entire country and maybe the world, your bro’s a hero, not a traitor or a careless rube—it’s a whole big conspiracy theory, kind of an obsession, and yeah I was in love with him, and you don’t need to know any of this’—no. Keeping my mouth shut. It’s less painful for both of us. And less weird.”
“He still needs to hear it,” Shiloh insisted. “And deserves to, honestly. He said the whole reason he’s going to Parole is to see what his brother saw. ‘Stand where he stood.’ Indra needs to hear the story.”
“The story isn’t finished, I haven’t found my proof,” Jay protested.
“He knows Mihir died, but not why,” Shiloh said simply. “Not the truth. You gotta tell Indra it wasn’t random, or a mistake. He died a hero.”
“I don’t want to get his hopes up,” Jay muttered. “That’s one of my rules too. Don’t ever get your hopes up ahead of time. And you know I’m all about changing the rules but some can’t be broken or even bent. Sometimes there is no third option.”
Shiloh couldn’t think of what to say to that, so instead, they just sat together in rare, unbroken silence.
* ☆ *
The FireRunner pulled out of the docks and began following the continuous glittering stream in the sky. With the huge sails open, it truly seemed like they were sailing across the ocean of poisoned sand, beneath the blazing white-hot sun. The air was still but the solar energy the sails were actually meant to absorb moved the ship along without a breath of wind. As the miles went by, the scorched earth graduated slowly to a powdery, gray ash. Occasionally, they passed abandoned structures that might have once been small houses or outposts, buildings crumbling and metal frames stripped.
Where these stood, there were usually at least a couple graves, bleached white like bones in the sun. Whatever cataclysmic poison had destroyed these structures was long gone, but even without the threat of toxic storms or ghostly assaults, the environment was harsh and unforgiving. At night, when the sun dipped below the horizon, the place almost seemed tolerable. There were around five minutes of sweet relief from the endless glare at sunset—until the temperature dropped, bringing a chill that cut to the bone.
Shiloh grew more and more excited as they followed the glittering guideline in the sky, until it was almost impossible to think of anything but what lay at the end. It was definitely pointing the way to the next beacon, which had to be a sign it was pointing to xir parents too. Xie’d find them waiting at the end of the stream and then they’d all continue together. It was simple.
The next day as the sun was nearly setting, the end of the stream came into view. Just as expected, a beacon waited. But there were no other ships or signs of life and Shiloh started to feel a tinge of worry. Xie wanted to get out and search every inch of the beacon and surrounding area—but there was no time. The beacon was the priority and they were losing daylight fast.
Reluctantly satisfied with the promise that they’d make a thorough sweep once the location was secured, xie waited and watched from the safety of the top deck as the FireRunner’s crew approached, evaluated, and launched into action. Annie had given xir a general idea of what to expect, but said nothing could really compare to seeing it done. She was right.
The air was clear, but everyone still wore portable oxygen masks and tanks. Storms could come on without warning and this operation left them all vulnerable. Success required efficiency, coordination, and very precise timing. Once they started moving, they moved very fast.
First, something flared bright red on the end of Stefanos’s arm—a laser-like beam that he used to cut through the thick metal door with surprising speed. Once he was done, all it took was one kick. Once the way was open, Jay quickly slipped inside and went to work. Stefanos remained outside and projected something else from another arm extension; the dampening field resembled a sphere of darkness enveloping the tower’s base. Immediately, the beacon’s light flickered and went out, as if someone had actually unscrewed the gigantic lightbulb. It flickered briefly back to life, only to die again as Jay disabled the backup generators and interior security systems.
Right on cue, several faint, ghostly figures started to appear on the ground and move toward the tower. The ghosts ignored the FireRunner, instead seeming drawn to the beacon like moths, but not to its light. Their attention was captured by the dampening field and whatever was going on inside it. Small flashes lit up the field’s inky darkness as Stefanos and Jay fired off some kind of very bright ammo rounds. Long, twisting, serpentine shapes appeared in the tiny lightning flashes, but they didn’t strike.
With the curious ghosts handled, Aliyah shot a hundred feet in the air up to the tower’s top, pausing only for the few seconds it took to secure a climbing line. Then she jumped off just as quickly, falling like a stone only to level out and circle about twenty feet in the air, waiting.
Below, secured to the other end of the line with a harness and safety belt, Rowan waited. The moment Aliyah was clear and the line in place, they started to climb. But their movements weren’t the slow, careful steps of an ordinary mountain climber—here, Rowan’s hooves were in their element. They moved in fast, graceful bounds, speeding around the tower at an angle and ascending much faster than should have been possible. Aliyah followed, and together they spiraled up.
It only took around a minute for them to reach to the top. Then they both disappeared inside the lighthouse-like top chamber to complete their task as Jay and Stefanos held position at its base. About ten very tense seconds went by as the beacon remained dark. Then it flared back to life, but not the same life as before. Instead of a white beam, an electric violet string issued from the beacon, traveling out into the distance. It would connect to the last, previously lit beacon and both their rays would intensify, keeping Tartarus and its ghostly inhabitants at bay.
But as the beacon lit up the sky, another change took place—though most of the crew would never see it. The FireRunner had followed the glittering stream where it led, here, clear to all who could see. It didn’t disappear now, but it did change direction. It now curved off into the far reaches of the Tartarus Zone. And the next beacon.
When Shiloh saw this, xir heart sank. Xie had never been farther from home, but xie’d been sent right back to square one.
* ☆ *
The temperature dropped sharply as night fell outside, but Radio Angel’s room was as cozy and warm as the last time Shiloh had been here. It was a good place to be, xie thought. Anywhere else would have felt as desolate as the cold Tartarus night.
“I’m so sorry,” Kari said, turning away from her dozens of radios and microphones to give Shiloh her almost-undivided attention. Her ever-present echoes continued after she stopped speaking, but they were lowered to background whispers. “This had to be a punch right in the heart.”
“Pretty good way to put it,” Shiloh said with a faint sigh, still reeling from the blow. “I don’t get it. We followed the lights, they pointed right here. So my mom and dad should be here too—but they’re not. Now it’s pointing somewhere else and I’m starting to wonder if they’ll even be where it leads next. I don’t know, maybe I’m doing this wrong.”
There were no windows in this small room but xie knew the glittering stream was still out there, bright against the night sky and leading off into the distance. And
xie felt another rush of anger and heartsick despair. Once the sparkling stream had been beautiful. Now it was just a reminder that the journey wasn’t over—and shiny promises weren’t always to be trusted.
“We’ll find your parents,” she promised. “Nobody’s giving up. Honestly, if they’re not out here that’s kind of a good thing. Tartarus isn’t a place you want to be any longer than you have to. Maybe they made it all the way to Parole already.”
“My mom would definitely want to help,” Shiloh said thoughtfully. “But my dad risked everything to escape Parole. I don’t know why he’d go back now.”
“It would be a lot easier if we could just call and ask if anyone’s seen them,” Kari said with a little sigh that echoed Shiloh’s from a minute before.
“You’ve been trying to get in touch with Parole for a long time, right?”
“Yeah, basically ever since we left.” Instead of the excitement and joy she’d radiated when Annie had first introduced them, she just looked sad and tired. Even only knowing her briefly, Shiloh had the feeling that was a recent change. “But I haven’t heard anything from anyone. That’s never happened before. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m starting to worry.”
“I know the feeling,” Shiloh said with a sad nod. “I think the not knowing is the worst part.”
“Exactly. But sometimes no news really is good news.” She took a bracing little breath and smiled. It looked like it was a concerted effort. “And Parole’s still full of good people. Even with everything falling apart, they look out for each other. If your parents are there, they’re safer than we are. And someone there will know.”
“While we were out and caught a little bit of your broadcast, I heard you say a name.” Shiloh hesitated, somehow feeling xie was treading on secret ground. “Celeste?”
“Yeah.” Kari’s smile turned a little sad. “If anyone could help, it’d be her.”
“Who is she?”
“Information specialist,” Kari said after a split-second pause. “I guess that’s what you’d call it. Espionage, finding out what SkEye’s doing next, keeping track of everybody and all the most important secrets in Parole.”
“Annie said she usually handled her Radiance contacts, so I kind of pictured someone like you.” Shiloh was still having a hard time picturing exactly what Celeste did but maybe that was the point.
“Ha, oh gosh, no.” Kari gave a little giggle but it died away fast. “She’s way more hardcore than me. All I do is sit here and talk but Celeste is on the ground, right in the middle of bad guy central—and she’s brilliant. Strikes fast, then gone in a flash. Almost an urban legend.” Her voice sounded dreamy. “Secrets are her specialty. She can hack into anything, sneak anywhere, spy on anybody, find out anything—that sounds creepy, I know, but she’s on our side. Nothing like SkEye.”
“I believe you,” Shiloh assured her. “I heard she’s the one who dropped the big barrier for one minute so some people could escape.”
“Yeah she did.” Kari sounded proud as if she’d done it herself. “We would’ve lost a lot more people in the collapse without her and Icarus.”
“That’s the program, right?” The sequence of events was a little tricky, but Shiloh was getting a better grip on it all the time. “The one that dropped the barrier ten years ago too?”
“Yeah. But that wasn’t Celeste,” Kari said, shaking her head. “I mean it was, but ten years ago she was just a kid, we all were. There were—let me back up.” She shut her eyes and rubbed them. Shiloh couldn’t help wondering how much she’d slept since the collapse, or before. “Celeste—my… our Celeste… wasn’t the first one. The name’s more of an alias. A title.”
“I know. Uncle Jay told me. The first one was Mihir, right? He did it the first time.”
“Yeah. And Celeste—our Celeste—and Jay did it again when…” She trailed off for a moment. “During the collapse. She’s how I got out.”
“Sounds kind of like a superhero.” Shiloh smiled, only half-joking.
“No powers. But she saved about as many people as the big ones. Me, Celeste, and CyborJ. Kind of a dream team.” She cracked a smile. “We worked together for a long time. Running the networks, the public and secret ones, keeping people safe. I ruled the airwaves, Jay had the internet, and Celeste had…secrets.”
“I bet Parole has some big ones.” Now that xie actually thought about it, xie was getting curious too. Water was supposed to be currency there, but in a place like that, information might be worth even more.
“Oh, yeah.” Kari nodded, actually smiling back. “Celeste would disappear, do her invisible magical girl super-spy dance for a while, and come back with locations for half our missing persons list, and a ton of treasures we didn’t even know we needed. Then she’d look up at me with this ‘what, like it’s hard?’ smile, and just…make genius look easy all over again the next day.”
“I really hope you find her.” Shiloh meant it. There seemed to be a lot of missing people now, in every sense.
“Oh, I know where she is. She’s alive.” Kari sounded convinced but her smile faded. “She just can’t come back yet, I guess. Or answer. I’m sure she has a good reason.” That last sentence didn’t sound nearly as convinced, or hopeful. “Anyway, you wanna do this?”
“Oh—yeah!” Shiloh gave an embarrassed chuckle as xie remembered exactly what they were doing and why xie was here. “Sorry. You go ahead, start talking or broadcasting and I’ll boost the signal.”
“Thanks, Shiloh,” Kari said, sounding tired but genuinely grateful. “Maybe someone will actually hear me this time.”
Shiloh reached out and put a hand on the nearest radio display, this time anticipating the crackling energy that swept through every machine in the room and made the lights flicker overhead. “Okay,” xie said as soon as the surge stabilized. They weren’t listening for a signal this time, Shiloh reminded xirself. Focus everything on sending, transmitting, broadcasting. Out, not in. Loud and clear. “I think we’re good.”
Kari turned to stare at a single microphone on the console in front of her. She took a deep breath, then began to speak. Her words didn’t overlap in her usual mode of voices layered over one another; she spoke in one single voice. Just her own.
“Hello, Parole. So, it is…wow. I’m sorry, I have no idea. Is it Tuesday?” She shot Shiloh a questioning glance, and xie nodded as soon as xie realized the question was directed at xir. “Okay, it’s Tuesday. Now I’m trying to remember how long I’ve been away from Parole, and I don’t know that either. A month? Time does funny things now. I hope you all know if it’s Tuesday or not. I just hope you’re okay.
“We’re pretty far out, in the middle of a whole lot of nothing. It’s quiet. If I can be totally cliché, it’s too quiet. I’m used to the noise of the city. I’ve never been outside of Parole until now. Ever. When I was a little kid, there would be trains and sirens and traffic all around. Then Chrysedrine happened, and the barrier happened, and people with powers and men with gas masks and guns…happened. Everything’s loud back home. I don’t know what to do with the quiet out here, I can’t sleep.”
She wasn’t looking at Shiloh anymore and xie held perfectly still. Suddenly it seemed like xie was hearing something xie shouldn’t. Xie felt like an eavesdropper even though xie’d been invited, guilty without knowing why. Radio Angel’s focus seemed like a fragile spell that might break if xie made the smallest sound.
“And the sky is so big and full of stars. Or blue. Just endless bright blue,” she said, voice falling to just above a whisper. “You look up at it, and…it’s so open. It makes me feel so small. Like I’m a tiny mouse and any minute a huge eagle is going to swoop out of the sky and snatch me up in its talons and fly me away to eat me.”
She laughed, and seemed almost as surprised as Shiloh. “Sorry—that was weird. I just thought you all might like to know what I’m seeing. I wish I could show you. Even the weirdness. Remind you that there’s a world outside of Parole. It’s real and it
’s here and it’s waiting for you. Someday you’ll be here to see it. I’m gonna help you see it, I promise, even if all I can do is talk.”
Kari fell silent then. The seconds stretched into nearly a minute and Shiloh thought she was done, until she leaned forward until her lips were almost touching the microphone, speaking in a voice so quiet xie almost couldn’t hear.
“Celeste…I miss you so much. I’m still here. Talk to me. Please.” She was quiet again, sitting and waiting for a reply that didn’t come. Finally, she sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking exhausted. “Um, that’s all. I hope somebody heard this.”
Shiloh kept the connection open for just a few more seconds before finally letting it go.
“I can try again tomorrow,” xie offered once the radios fell silent and dark. “Maybe we’ll have better luck. I hope you find her.”
“Thanks.” Kari fiddled with a sparkly doodad in her puffy pink hair and didn’t look up. “Me too. When Parole collapsed—when I lost her…”
“Yeah,” xie nodded, feeling vaguely sick. Xie didn’t quite know if it was empathy, or just being reminded of things xie’d rather not dwell on. “I know that feeling too.”
“I bet you do. A lot of people from Parole do. Even if they haven’t been there in a while.” She swallowed and kept staring at the floor. “But I’m okay. Mostly. Getting over it. It’s all you can do when people fall through the cracks.”
Shiloh laughed, but it wasn’t a happy one. “I hate that saying.”
“Yeah, especially ‘cause in Parole, the cracks are literal, and they have fire underneath. But there are a lot of different kinds of cracks to fall through.”
“Listen, when we heard you, just before that guy Sharpe took over?” Shiloh made xirself say the name despite the bad taste it left behind. “You said ‘good night, Celeste.’ If we could hear you, maybe she could too.”
The Lifeline Signal Page 27
