by Nick James
Eva froze as soon as they were safely inside. “We need to help—”
Cassius grabbed her by the wrist. “There’s nothing we can do. They’ll have to head to their shuttles.”
“By then it’ll be too late,” she continued, panic in her eyes. “There’s not enough time for everyone to … ” She stopped, unable to finish the statement.
Madame sprinted to the cruiser, sliding open the door and jumping into the cockpit.
Cassius turned back to the closed door. His eyes fell upon the lock. Madame must have secured it the moment they passed through, into the bay. A pang of guilt rose in his belly. He was brought back several months, to the wreckage of the Chute train he’d accidentally destroyed on the Surface. Could he really let innocents perish to save himself?
Madame’s voice came from behind him. “Open that door and you might as well shoot yourself.”
He and Eva turned to see her standing before them.
Cassius swallowed. “What’s wrong?”
“The cruiser won’t power on,” she replied. “There’s nothing.”
Eva flattened against the door as the skyship tilted once more. “Not even solar?”
“Not enough,” Madame replied. “Something’s interfering with the system. You can try it yourself. I assure you, it won’t work.”
Cassius stared past her shoulder, at the red of the sky beyond the mouth of the bay.
“The Authority,” he muttered. “That red energy … Wherever it’s coming from, whatever it is, it’s bringing us down. Sinking the ship.”
Eva’s breathing began to speed up. “If we can’t operate the cruiser, then—”
“Nobody’s getting off,” Madame finished.
Cassius glanced at the floor, closing his eyes in thought. He shook his head. “Nope. I’m not going out like this.”
Madame’s eyes shifted nervously around the bay. “Any ideas would be greatly appreciated.”
Cassius motioned Eva toward the cruiser. “Rodriguez, check the power again. Double-check it. Triple. If anything happens, shout.”
Eva took a step toward the cruiser, then stopped. “We’ve got minutes … it’s not enough … ”
Cassius shooed her forward, unable to argue. If the crimson had managed to disable the power on Atlas, it may have clogged smaller ships too. But he couldn’t accept it. There had to be a way out. He hadn’t come this far only to be brought down by a Skyship.
Madame gritted her teeth. “Cassius, what are you thinking?”
He laid his hand on his head and closed his eyes, trying to work through it logically. He couldn’t give in to emotion at a time like this, as difficult as it was not to.
The cruiser didn’t work. That meant that none of the ship’s emergency shuttles would function either, not that they’d have the time to reach them. Their docking bay was almost completely empty. A fueling station in the corner, an emergency fire kit nearby. The only thing worth a try was the cruiser, and it was inoperable.
But there were tools inside the cruiser.
His eyes bolted open and met Madame’s.
“Parachute,” he said.
She shook her head. “There will only be two.” She glanced behind her, then leaned forward to whisper. “Leave the girl here, is that what you’re thinking?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Even if we jumped off, the force from the ship would more than likely suck us under. The full weight of Atlas would fall on top of us.”
“No,” he repeated. “I have an idea.” He sprinted to the cruiser, praying he could make it work.
“There are only two parachutes!” Madame called out behind him.
“That’s okay,” he shouted back. “I only need one.”
12
The Bio-Net connectors pelt the city. They’re the size of ovens. Bathtubs. Boulders. Some take chunks from the tops of buildings, adding to the violent hailstorm of rubble. Others crash in the middle of streets and alleys. They leave craters in the concrete, fling metal and wire haphazardly through the air.
Avery and I take shelter under the concrete overhang that protects the entrance to the reactor, though it’s far from guaranteed safety. One of the connectors could easily scrape against the side of the tower on its way directly to our heads. We’d be pulverized before we could even think to move.
But there are only so many Bio-Nets in the sky. I grip the top of my head—like that’s going to be any help—and wait for the horrendous collisions to stop.
It isn’t long. In seconds the last few tumble to their resting spots. The cascade of oncoming dust and scrap from the tops of nearby skyscrapers begins to thin. Then, everything falls silent.
No explosions. No gunshots. They aren’t needed. In one move, the Authority’s disabled the city’s protection, not only from the invasion, but from the elements outside as well.
The temperature-regulated air starts to dissipate almost immediately. I feel it warming the moment the Bio-Net connectors stop falling. Soon the Fringe heat will work its way into every corner of this city.
Avery coughs, then waves her hand through the dust to peer through to the streets beyond. “Is it safe? Should we move?”
Before I can respond, the doors behind us fly open. Several Pearl reactor workers run outside, colliding with my shoulder as they push past.
They freeze, taking in the destruction before us. The air’s still too thick to see anything but silhouettes, but even through the haze I can see three Bio-Net connectors among the wrecked cityscape—the closest mere yards away.
One of the workers notices Avery and turns to face us, expression aghast. Several seconds pass before he’s able to put his thoughts into words.
“What happened out here?”
Avery hugs her stomach, shaking her head. I consider answering for her, but then I realize that the doors are still open behind us. I glance through the opening, teeth gritted. What I’m about to do could be stupid, but there are more Pearls inside, maybe even hundreds.
Avery begins to respond to the man, her words fragmented. “The Bio-Nets … I don’t know … ”
The other workers turn to look at her. I take a deep breath. It’ll be quick. In and out. Break them all. Done.
While they’re preoccupied, I sprint through the doorway, toward the reactor.
“Hey!” I hear one of them shout after me, but by then I’ve already turned the corner. He’s out of sight. Plus, with everything that just happened, I’m not too sure any of them would follow me. I think I hear Avery call my name as well, but I ignore her.
I turn all my attention over to the Pearls. They pulse inside my consciousness—dozens of heartbeats growing closer. Louder. They lead me where I need to go.
The corridors are white on all sides, and curved around the top like a never-ending tunnel. I race through them, making changes in direction when the pull of the Pearls commands me. I don’t know where I’m going, or where exactly I’ll end up.
Thirty seconds into my sprint, a deafening alarm cuts through the air, pulsing through the tunnels. It threatens to break my concentration, but it only lasts for a moment before it’s cut off.
It’s silent for a moment, before the footsteps.
I spin. I can’t tell if they’re coming from behind me or in front. Maybe they’re not even real. Maybe it’s only the Pearls thumping inside me.
I round another corner and run right into an oncoming guard.
We collide in the center of the hallway, knocking each other sideways. My shoulder plants against the wall. I keep my balance and push forward.
“Stop!”
His voice echoes behind me, so loud that it reverberates along the curved walls. I glance over my shoulder and watch him aim a blaster my way. It’s not some dinky pistol, either. It’s a full-on, resting-on-his-shoulder bazooka.
I freeze, betting that with everything going on, he’ll shoot before asking questions.
But he doesn’t know about me.
With a clench of my fi
st, I latch onto the nearest Pearl.
It isn’t far now. I hear its whispers.
A slight swipe of my hand brings it shooting from its hiding spot, around the corner and into the corridor. The green light, so close and reflected against the shiny white around us, would throw anyone off guard. But this guy’s wearing some kind of goggles, probably to deflect energy from inside the reactor. The light doesn’t seem to bother him.
But the moving Pearl does. I imagine his thoughts at this moment. How is it floating? Why is it hurtling toward me?
I don’t give him time to wonder.
Four yards from his body, I break it. The Pearl explodes directly in front of my face, surging energy in every direction. The moment it slams into his chest, he topples to the ground. Armor or no armor … doesn’t matter.
I absorb some of the energy. The rest clatters along the walls, electrifying the entire hallway.
I watch a Drifter begin to form from the ether. I’ve never seen it happen so closely before. Sparks collide, growing and congealing into bands of energy that meld together to create legs. Arms. A head. It happens so fast that I barely have a chance to process it.
The Drifter flips sideways and soars through the air, down the corridor, and out of sight. He’ll calm down eventually, if the Authority doesn’t get him before that.
Free from the guard, I push forward.
I don’t have much longer to travel before arriving in the belly of the reactor. A bulky metal door marks my way forward. It’s half-open—knocked loose from the Pearl explosion, maybe. Or perhaps the guard was too panicked to remember to close it.
I push my hands over my ears, trying to drown out the noises from inside the reactor. It’s not only the mechanical rumbles and whooshes from the machine itself, but the whispers all around me, loud enough now to make concentrating on anything else difficult.
I run through the door.
The chamber stretches high over my head, a dome so big that it feels as if I’ve entered another city entirely. I glance up. The dark siding of the room must stretch twenty stories above me. Rows of observation windows dot the walls every few levels, but beyond that the dome is completely smooth. Though the metal’s as dark and unforgiving as the door I came through, the Pearl energy from within the reactor still manages to reflect, casting what looks like green sparks around the entire perimeter of the chamber.
Directly in front of me sits the actual reactor. It’s about half as high as the chamber itself, but impossibly complicated. Thick tubes stretch out at all angles, looping around the room until they attach to the wall at different points around me. Turbines scoop through the air, sounding like whirring helicopter blades amplified a hundred times. The entire structure reminds me of an enormous, upside-down tree, roots coming out of its sides and top while the turbines spin so fast above that I can hardly see them move at all. This is a far cry from what we’ve got aboard Skyship.
The chamber’s deserted. I’m not even sure it’s completely safe to be here. My eyes dart around the room, from window to window. There might be officials staring down. They’ll order more guards, if there are any available. Hopefully the chaos outside stole most of their attention.
I can’t see the Pearls, but I feel them. Hear them. They’re close enough to break, for sure.
I kneel on the ground, conserving as much energy as I can. I cup my hand and stretch it in front of me, like I’m waiting for someone to drop something in. My eyes close. I listen to the whispers without trying to decipher their otherworldly language. I don’t have to use words to let them know I’m here.
The Pearl energy pushes closer to my body. I imagine every last bit of green streaming from the reactor toward my waiting hand.
I collect the Pearls—mentally catalogue them—and connect to as many as I can. Each one steals more of my attention until I can’t focus on anything else. I feel my knees give way as I sink farther to the ground.
Too much.
I don’t know if I can do it.
My shoulders shake, pushed around by waves of energy. I feel my hair bristle above my head as more and more Pearls cram their way into my consciousness. There’s not enough room. There’s not enough of me.
The whispers are so loud now. They’re hardly whispers at all. Yelling. Pained screams, begging me to do what only I can.
I don’t know if there’s any coming back from this.
Just as it feels as though I’m going to pass out, I let go.
Boom.
The entire chamber rumbles with the force of an earthquake. The turbines lurch to a stop as green energy erupts everywhere, so bright that I can see it with my eyes closed.
I feel the ground give way beneath me—enough to forge a small crater below my feet.
The shouting decreases as my body floods with all that’s floating around the room. I know there are dozens of Drifters circling above my head. But I can’t open my eyes. I can’t do anything.
The room heats, so hot that I fear it’ll sear my skin right off. I’ve never felt this much energy at once, so close with nowhere to go.
Then I realize it. The dark siding, the reflective metal. It must be a shield to keep the Pearl energy in. Reactors are built like this, Captain Alkine once told me. Sealed, so no energy can be lost.
There’s nowhere for this to go.
A trickle of green forces its way out the open door behind me. The rest bounces around the chamber, trapped. Some feeds back into the turbine, starting and stopping the blades in loud stutters.
Everything else comes at me. Point blank.
I open my eyes. All I see is green.
It’s the last thing I sense before falling forward, head connecting with the ground.
Out.
13
Cassius finished strapping the parachute around the three of them. It didn’t have enough bands to secure them all, so he had to pull some extra rope from the cruiser’s cabinets and weave it in. He tied the material in several places, hoping that the force outside wouldn’t be able to rip them all apart. But he didn’t have the luxury of time. It would never be his best work, given the constraints he was struggling under.
He and the others stood back to back, forming a human triangle. Cassius had fastened their bodies together so tightly that he found it difficult to move his own shoulders.
“Madame’s right,” Eva shouted from his side. “Once we pop the chute, who’s to say the ship won’t just drag us down with it?”
“Trust me.” Cassius led them closer to the edge of the docking bay, taking awkward tiptoe steps since he couldn’t stretch out his legs all the way.
A deafening blast issued all around them—the sound of the air being ripped from the innards of the ship as it plummeted.
He prodded Madame’s shoulder. “Pull it as soon as our feet lift off the ground. I’ll do the rest.”
“But that’s not how—”
“You always taught me to follow your lead,” he interrupted. “Now it’s your turn to follow.”
He knew that she wanted to argue. As brave a face as Madame put on, she wasn’t used to this kind of action. This sort of situation—jumping and praying—was Cassius’s thing. For better or worse.
More important, he could do things that she couldn’t. And this kind of escape was going to rely on his specific talents. If it worked.
They couldn’t run so close together, positioned the way they were, so they continued to inch along the ground, fast as they could without tripping, until they reached the point of no return.
Once close enough to the edge, the force from the rapidly passing air became too much. It tugged up at them like a claw, sucking their hair straight above their heads. Cassius felt the sleeves of his shirt pull up. His feet lifted from the ground.
With a great lurch, the sky plucked them from the docking bay and sent them spinning into clear air. The upper lip of the bay nearly connected with Cassius’s shin. He used the close proximity to kick off, pushing them farther from the sinking
Skyship.
Behind him, he heard the snap of the parachute being released. All at once, they shot upward at dizzying speed. Cassius fought the wind’s forceful blows and craned his neck to see the chute unfold above them. They whipped diagonally, at first away from the ship and then closer. This wasn’t the typical emergency escape. Parachutes were made for cruisers and shuttles. Skyship Atlas was too big. It created wakes in the air, pushing them around in a nauseous seesaw, drawing them closer.
His arm tensed. He cupped his fingers into a fist and reached up through the air. His shoulder forced against Eva’s. The wind threatened to slam his arm back to his side, but he fought through until it stretched all the way above his head.
It was time.
Focusing the energy inside of him, he let his fingers spark. A flame ignited above his hand, growing slowly until it climbed a foot in height. Eighteen inches. Twenty.
The wind wanted to tear it away, shift it sideways so that it would burn through the ropes, keeping them attached to the parachute. Gritting his teeth, Cassius kept hold of it, forcing the flame into a ball around his hand, steady in the center of all the chaos around him. Sweat dripped from his brow, eaten by the wind before he could even think to wipe it off. He felt his muscles tremble with the added exertion.
But it was working. They began to rise.
Like a hot-air balloon, the parachute trapped the heat from the fire. Even so, the tiny hole at the top let much of the hot air through, so Cassius had to keep the flame burning high, at least until Atlas was far enough away from them.
They rose slowly, but not at a constant rate. The atmosphere pulled up and down—turbulence they had no guarantee of surviving. Their parachute wobbled through the red-tinted sky as Atlas plunged ever farther below them.
Soon, a deep rumble came from the Surface, so loud that it nearly broke Cassius’s concentration. A series of fire balls erupted below them, spreading along the desert landscape as Atlas ripped apart. The heat from the explosion swelled toward them, catching in the parachute and sending them even higher.
