by Nick James
I nod, and leave it at that.
He winces. “This is bad.”
“I’ll try the communicator.” I turn to Savon. “If it doesn’t go through, we can fly to Atlas and take our chances.”
He nods. “Getting airborne is the first step. This place is crawling with foot soldiers. For now, we move. And keep moving before they catch up to us.”
21
Cassius ducked and prayed for the best. It sounded to him as if the entire room was coming down. He’d surely be buried beneath rubble in seconds, if the floor didn’t cave in first.
He gritted his teeth, expecting the worst. All it would take was a strike in the wrong place and he’d drop. Unconscious, or maybe worse.
Instead, the room fell silent.
He stole a glance at the ceiling. The sight made him question what he’d just heard. Everything above him remained solid, the same as it had been moments before. He stood, cautious not to make any quick movements. Then he saw the movement. No screeching or grating, just a constant plunge.
Like a video on mute, played in slow motion, the ceiling caved in.
It disassembled at a steady pace, sucking in everything below it. Cassius watched the top of the platform’s trunklike pillar surrender to the sinking metal, disappearing into its embrace. Soon, every one of its senso-cubes would also fall victim to the vessel’s dismantling. He wondered if the entire room—the entire ship—had been one huge, advanced hologram. That was the only explanation he could come up with, except holograms were notoriously weightless. He wouldn’t have felt the solid ground beneath him, or been able to climb level after winding level.
Cassius felt panic rise in his gut. He pushed it down, knowing that he needed to escape with as many senso-cubes as he could. The last time he’d traveled inside on the Resistance’s recorded memories, he’d learned invaluable information about Matigo and the Authority. If these were indeed stolen cubes, he couldn’t let them be destroyed.
Lunging forward, he grabbed a handful and thrust them into his pockets. They were small—not much bigger than a standard die, but easily scattered. They chilled his skin, like they’d been kept in a refrigerator for hours.
Once he had as many as possible stuffed into his clothes, he bounded from the platform. The ceiling had already fallen much closer. Thirty feet of airspace shrunk to ten. Maybe less. He was reminded of the trash compactors back at the Lodge. Too much closer and it would squeeze him flat, hologram or no hologram.
He sprinted forward, heading for the doorway he’d come in through.
He cleared it with mere feet to spare, and whipped around the corner. His feet pounded metal, faster and faster as his lungs threatened to give out.
The ceiling silently sunk above him like an accordion being squeezed. Entire levels disappeared. One more turn and the observation deck had been swallowed up completely. Disappeared.
What had he done?
A sudden spike of horror nearly stopped him in his tracks. Madame and Eva. They were still in the ship.
He couldn’t remember exactly how many floors he’d scaled after leaving them in the room. The fact that everything inside the vessel looked identical didn’t make the prospect of finding them any easier.
He stole another look at the rapidly descending ceiling. It seemed to move faster now, as if taunting him. Too much longer and it would overtake his pace. He couldn’t stop to take a breath—not even for a second.
“Madame!” He shouted, not caring if there were other Shifters to hear him. The ship’s destruction happened in such complete silence that she and Eva wouldn’t get any warning before it was too late. “Where are you?!?”
His words echoed through the gray hallways. He called again, his voice hoarse from the exertion of constant sprinting. His rattled brain forced him to consider the consequence of slowing down. Would he be disintegrated into nothing, like the rest of the ship? Would it tear off his head first, before consuming the rest of him?
The thoughts threatened to slow him down. His body wanted to collapse and fold in on itself, too shock-addled to keep going. But Cassius wasn’t the kind to give up without a fight. He never had been, even as a kid. And if he was going down, it wasn’t gonna be some insane spaceship that took him out.
He descended two more levels. The circular corridors widened into longer stretches. It bought him time. Seconds.
He nearly tripped. Just as his legs were about to buckle underneath him, he turned a corner and saw them.
Eva stood in the center of the corridor, hands nervously drumming her sides. Madame leaned against the wall next to her, leg dressing damp with blood.
Eva took a step back when she saw him. “What’s going on?”
“Run!” He barreled forward, passing them without waiting for a response.
Madame turned. “Cassius!”
Eva grabbed Madame’s arm and helped her stand straight. “Something’s wrong.”
The something became apparent seconds later, as the ceiling came crashing down on them. Cassius tried to remember exactly how they’d entered the vessel in the first place. He hadn’t left Eva and Madame too far from the ground. They must be close now.
He ventured another look above him. There wasn’t time.
He remembered the way the walls of the vessel had seemed to melt away when he’d touched them. Maybe he could use the same strategy to get them out.
Stealing precious seconds, he leapt toward the nearest wall. His brain spun, which made it difficult to tell what direction pointed to the outside world and which would only lead him farther into the chaos of the ship.
Madame hobbled to his side. “What did you do?”
“Shh.” He laid his palm against the wall and focused on getting out. He didn’t know exactly how to communicate with the vessel, so instead of trying to figure it out, he channeled his panic through his shaking fingers.
The ceiling moved closer. The wall didn’t budge.
“Come on!” Eva urged. She was right to be panicked. Seconds more and they’d be smashed dead.
He closed his eyes, pushing hard against the metal. He let all his weight fall against it, muttering desperate pleas under his breath.
Then, all of a sudden, the wall gave way. The smooth coolness disappeared beneath his hand, replaced with nothing. Unable to stop himself, he toppled forward into the sky.
Opening his eyes, he realized that the ground outside was coming up fast. They were close to the Surface—close enough to survive the fall—but not quite as close as he’d hoped.
He twisted his body, forcing his feet down. He’d need to land without snapping his neck or injuring any other vital body part.
It worked. Sort of.
His feet hit the ground first, but his body quickly crumpled on top of them. He stumbled forward, face in the dirt.
The others followed. He heard the sounds of their feet slamming into the Fringe landscape. Madame let out a cry of anguish, likely falling on the very leg she’d injured inside the vessel. At least she made a sound. That was better than dead.
He flipped over, lying on his back. A thousand aches caught up to him, merging into one all-consuming void. The hot ground underneath lulled his muscles into complacency. He forced his eyes open against the blazing sun, but had to squint immediately.
Rolling onto his side, he watched what was left of the vessel collapse into itself. In seconds, it had completely disappeared. Utter silence.
He couldn’t fathom how it had happened. An object so big couldn’t have vanished completely. It had to have gone somewhere. Turned into something.
Challenging his brain this way allowed him to focus on something besides the pain. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up, let alone stand. But giving up in the middle of the Fringes was a death sentence. It would be all too easy to be lulled to sleep from the heat.
Eva groaned beside him. “We’re alone.”
She didn’t have to say anything more. Cassius knew exactly what it meant. They were stranded, mil
es away from anything of use, and without transport of any kind. It was only a matter of time before the desert swallowed them up.
22
Avery whips back to look at me from her seat in the pilot’s chair. “I can’t get it airborne. It just … the cruiser won’t fly.”
This has been our third attempt. Every time it’s the same thing. We’ll crank up the acceleration, lift off, and glide for a minute or two. Then the system shuts down and we’re forced to make an emergency landing. It was scary the first time. Now it’s just infuriating.
Savon stands at the side of the cockpit, expression grim. “It’s as I suspected, then. The Authority have disrupted your airspace. We won’t be able to sustain flight.”
“We’ve still got our wheels,” Skandar starts. “Maybe we can roll?”
I glance over at him. “Across the entire country?”
Avery sighs. “At least we’ve managed to put some distance between us and the city, even if it was just in fits and starts.”
“Not good enough,” my father replies.
Skandar stretches. “At least the temp control’s working, huh mate?”
I grip the back side of my seat, wishing I could squeeze it until it broke. “If we can’t fly, we might as well get as far as we can on the ground. I mean, if we’re gonna be stuck in here anyways.”
Avery turns back to the controls. I feel the rumble of the engine immediately. “Taxiing,” she says. “Now what?”
I grab Cassius’s communicator from the floor, flipping it on. It hasn’t been much of a help so far, but we’re about due for a miracle.
The ground lurches beneath us as the cruiser’s wheels hit a rock. This thing is not a tank, and Fringe landscape is notoriously bumpy.
I hold the communicator close to my ear, pressing the alert button several times to get Cassius’s attention. It doesn’t patch through. All I hear is static.
“I told you, Jesse,” Skandar starts. “I tried already. Nobody’s answering.”
I swallow. “If they were on Atlas when it sank … ” I can’t finish the sentence.
Avery reaches above her to lower the cockpit temperature. “Even if they were, they’d find a way to escape. The three of them together? They’re like a mini army.”
Savon crosses his arms. “Your brother is alive.”
“How do you know?” I set the communicator down.
“You’d know if he wasn’t,” he responds. “The connection between the two of you has always been strong.”
I turn to look at him. “Like our connection, right? Like how you were able to find me.”
Savon nods, then takes a seat in the remaining chair. He rubs his forehead, bowing low in thought. “It’s the only thing that’s kept me going. The two of you were like satellites, pulling me in. I kept my distance at first, watching. I wanted to see you in action, see what you’d do. It wasn’t until the Authority captured you—”
“Wait,” Skandar interrupts. “The Authority got you?”
“Just for a little while,” I respond. “But if it wasn’t for Savon, Avery and I could be dead right now. He saved us.”
Avery turns. “You mean, he saved you.”
“My apologies,” Savon says. “I trust you’ll understand a father’s protective instincts. I didn’t know the two of you were close.”
I take a deep breath. For the first time since he broke me free from the Chute car, my mind has a moment to catch itself. We have breathing room, if only for a little while. Time to talk. Time to ask the questions that are on my mind.
“Tell me more about Mom.” The words come out before I realize what I’m saying.
Savon’s expression doesn’t change. His attention lingers on me for another moment before he moves to glance out the front window. “I … have not heard from your mother since landing on this planet.”
“I know. But she came down with you, right?”
“Before me,” he responds. “Minutes, only. Of course, that doesn’t mean we’d land side by side on Earth. Or at the same time. Or that we’d land safely at all. Every Pearl is a risk.”
I scratch at a piece of dry dirt affixed to my arm. “Is she like you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, a warrior?”
Savon laughs. “Jesse, I’m a scientist. It was the Authority that forced me to fight.” He pauses. “But your mother is strong-willed, and resourceful. She’ll be all right. I have confidence in that”
I offer a slight smile. “Can you sense it?”
“I know it to be true,” he replies. “Inside. It has to be true. But I’m afraid we won’t know for sure until the Authority is defeated.”
“But if you came out of a green Pearl,” I start. “That means that I freed you. Maybe you were one of the Pearls in Portland’s reactor.”
His brows rise. “No, it was before that. The exact details are a blur to me. But it’s true. I owe my life to you. So many of us do.”
“What if Mom’s still inside her Pearl?”
“At least she’d be safe.”
“No,” I counter. “You don’t know what people do to Pearls here. She could—” I can’t finish the sentence.
His expression hardens. “She wouldn’t want you to think like this. I know it’s hard to cope. But trust me, she’ll be waiting when this is over. We made a pact, her and I, right after we sent you and Cassius to Earth.”
I imagine them, standing together on Haven after sending their only children away. I have snapshots of memories floating in my head—the sounds and light as I was thrust inside the Pearl that brought me to Earth. But they don’t add up to much more than disconnected images. “A pact?”
He nods. “That nothing would keep us from finding you again. True, it had to be done. Getting you off-planet was crucial to your safety … to everyone’s safety. And I can understand how our decision might have seemed selfish to you. Without a comprehensive understanding of the war and its effects on our planet, you can’t possibly understand the choices we were forced to make. But I am here now. Your mother will follow. Nothing will keep us from our sons. Even King Matigo himself.”
His words hit me like a meteor. But more than that, it’s the way he looks at me. There’s desperation in his eyes, and more than a hint of the sacrifices he’s been forced to make in his life. It strikes me suddenly, how little I know about him. If we defeat the Authority … when we defeat the Authority … I want nothing more than to get to know him. Not as some hazy legend from another planet, but as my father.
Skandar smiles. “A happy ending, right?”
Avery sets the auto-taxi and takes a seat beside me, rubbing my shoulder. “I’m so happy for you, Jesse. This is what you’ve been waiting for. A family.”
I lay my head against her and glance back at Savon. He’s right, of course. Thinking about the possibility of my mother being alive isn’t going to help win this war. That’s small scale. It might not seem like it to me, but I’m not just fighting for myself anymore. I’m fighting for the entire world. It’s been my single greatest challenge since I first discovered what Pearls were: force my mind to expand beyond what’s immediate and personal. Bigger picture. Bigger than me.
The communicator beeps.
Without hesitation, I bolt upright and pull it to my ear. “Cassius?”
Static. For a moment I wonder if I’d imagined it.
I glance at Avery. “You heard a beep, right?”
She nods.
Another beep fractures the silence.
I play with the volume, making sure that it’s not some kind of mechanical function that’s keeping his voice at bay.
“Cassius?” I picture him in the middle of a city-sized pile of rubble and wreckage, limbs missing, hanging on for life. In other words, I picture the worst.
But it’s not Cassius I hear at all.
“Fisher?”
I nearly drop the communicator. My palms begin to sweat immediately. The gruff tone of his voice. Nobody’s voice runs through
me the way his does.
I set the communicator at my side and stare at Skandar, then back to Avery. “It’s Captain Alkine.”
Nobody says a word. I haven’t heard from Alkine for weeks, ever since leaving the Academy back in Siberia. I hadn’t left on good terms. Hell, I hadn’t even left through a door. Alkine had thrown me in the ship’s brig after he caught me sneaking out. Multiple times. One red Pearl explosion later and I was falling out the window, into even more trouble than I’d imagined.
Alkine’s voice comes from the communicator again, loud enough to understand even several feet from my ear.
“Fisher,” he says. “Is that you?”
I swallow, and notice my arms shaking. Why does he affect me like this? I’m sitting in the middle of an invasion. Attacks could come from anywhere. I could be killed in the next few minutes. Yet just the sound of Alkine’s voice has me more worked up than I’ve been in days.
Finally I grab the communicator and pull it close. “Y-yes … ”
“Thank god.” His response comes quickly. “I never thought—” He pauses. “Jesse, do you know how long we’ve been looking for you? We’ve tried every piece of Skyship tech—even Unified Party stuff—to break through to you.”
“I … I … ” I can’t form words beyond that.
“Thank god you’re safe. Thank god we were able to find your frequency.”
I look over to Savon. He crosses his arms, eye slit.
I bite my lip, wondering what he’s thinking. He doesn’t know who Alkine is, or the history shared between us. It’s probably better that he doesn’t know.
Alkine’s voice softens, just a little. “Jesse, you’re still there?”
“Yes.” I keep one eye on Savon.
“Where are you?”
I hesitate before speaking. “The States.”
“In the thick of it,” he replies. “No surprise.”
I can’t deal with this. The Academy’s a world I left behind. It’s bigger picture now, just like Savon said.
