by Nick James
He concentrated on the Ridium around his face and felt it ooze back over his eyes. His vision became more complicated again. The particles in the sky reappeared, along with the vast amounts of Ridium underfoot. “I can still breathe,” he said, “and talk. Even with this stuff over my face.”
Madame stepped back. “Pull it up again. You look … I need to see your face. I can’t convince myself that you’re not suffocating in there.”
He ignored her. “The Authority Shifter thought I’d die … thought I’d be smothered in the stuff. But there was enough of it. All I needed was to be covered completely. All this time, I never knew … ” He looked down at his feet, seeing through the first layer of the Earth’s crust. “But it’s worse than we thought. The Ridium’s everywhere. You wouldn’t believe how much they’ve got stored down there.”
Madame followed his gaze. “You can see through the ground?”
He nodded. “There’s an entire layer, ready to be pulled to the Surface by a Shifter. Way too much for just one of us to use.” He paused. “Back in the skimmer, when they were transporting us, I activated another cube and saw something. They can manipulate Ridium like water. I think they’re going to bring it all up at once. Drown us.”
Eva glanced nervously at the ground. “You’re sure?”
“It’s a guess,” he replied. “But I don’t know what else they’d do with so much of it.” He glanced at the sky. “We have to stop them, but we can’t stay here.”
He closed his eyes. Suddenly the whole world was on offer to him. All he had to do was think it.
He visualized Ridium pooling up from the ground. Even though his eyes were closed, he could see it as clearly as if he were staring right at it. He saw the coils reach up and form a ball of perfect, uninterrupted blackness. He saw the ball flatten into a disc, then arch back up to create indentations—seats—for three people. He saw a protective guard form at the front, capable of blocking any oncoming Fringe dust.
When he opened his eyes to look upon it, he saw a vehicle. It was a sort of skimmer, formed of nothing more than Ridium. Forged by his imagination.
He lowered the makeshift vehicle to the ground as the others stared at it in quiet disbelief.
“Step in,” he offered, settling his construction with a motion of his wrist.
Madame glanced at him, then back at the vehicle. “Are you … are you sure? What is this thing?”
“I know what I’m doing,” he replied. “It’ll hold. It’s solid.”
Taking a deep breath, Eva stepped forward and climbed onto one of the indentations toward the back. “It’s like a surfboard,” she remarked. “A fat surfboard. You’re freaking me out, Cassius.”
“It’s a little nicer than a surfboard,” he shot back before climbing into the front-most indentation. It held him without any give. The moment he sat down, it conformed to his body, like he was always supposed to be there.
Madame joined them last, carefully climbing onboard and allowing the substance to melt up and embrace her figure. “Marvelous.” She ran her fingers across the black surface. “Cassius, I can’t believe this.”
He planted his fingers in front of him and knocked on the Ridium twice.
Seat belts grew from the vehicle and wrapped safely around all three of their waists.
He looked over his shoulder. “I’m going to move fast,” he warned.
Madame’s brows tensed. “How fast?”
“Fast enough that you might get some bugs in your teeth.” He smiled. “So no more talking.”
With that, the vehicle moved upward, so smooth and constant that it hardly felt that they were moving at all.
Then, with a snap of his fingers, the vehicle shot forward. The Fringes became a blur. They were off.
30
The Academy ship speeds into the air, moving faster than I’ve been able to all day. Skandar’s back with a few of Alkine’s Agents, who are doing all they can for him with what’s available in the ship. I sit next to Alkine in the cabin. Savon rests behind us.
“We’ve climbed to maximum altitude,” Alkine says. “We should be safer up here, I hope. From what I’ve seen, the Authority’s been hesitant to fight too far above the Surface.”
I stare out the front windshield. “I thought we’d be stuck on the ground forever.”
“It looks like we picked you up just in time,” he replies. “What happened down there? One of my men, gone. That thing from the ground … was it some sort of landmine?”
“I wish it was that simple,” I say. “It was Ridium—the same substance that took Agent Morse and August Bergmann. The Authority controls it. It brought down Skyship Altair too.”
Alkine grunts. “You’ve got a lot to tell me. We’ve been in the dark, essentially. Once the e-feed cut out and the Chosens stopped broadcasting … we knew something was wrong. Just didn’t know how bad it was.”
I glance over my shoulder at Savon. He reclines on the bench at the far end of the cockpit, head bowed. “But it can’t reach us all the way up here, right?”
He looks up, frowning. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Anything’s possible with the Authority.”
“Then we’ll move faster,” Alkine says. “Jesse, I know that we didn’t leave things the way that we should have. I see the reluctance in your eyes, even now.”
“Just save Skandar,” I interrupt.
“We will. But after that, I don’t want you to get the idea … just because you’ve found your father—”
He’s cut off by a swarm of dark-clad soldiers, zipping across the length of the windshield some distance away. Authority. Maybe the same ones who attacked us on the ground.
Alkine shakes his head, then steers the ship away from the soldiers’ assumed path.
Savon turns to look out the window. “They don’t expect to see humans airborne. They thought they’d dismantled all of your resources. Had they the firepower, they would’ve returned to finish us off.”
“The Academy’s just past the west coast,” Alkine says, “not far from our coordinates before this whole thing with the Pearls started. We’re over the Pacific. Off their radar, hopefully.”
Savon frowns. “For now.”
Alkine shakes his head. “The world’s gone crazy. I’ve never seen the skies so quiet before, or so many trails of smoke coming from the Surface.
“We’re on our own,” I mutter.
Alkine laughs. “You’d think we’d be used to it by now.”
––––
When the outline of Skyship Academy finally pulls into view, I’m flooded with memories. It was only six months ago that Eva, Skandar, and I had flown up here from Syracuse—three loser trainees who’d just flunked their first Surface mission. I knew nothing of this war back then. The only battle I could relate to was the one waging inside of me.
Flash forward and the Academy’s the only Skyship still airborne. It’s a weird sort of irony. We’ve never been much of an imposing ship. We’re no Atlas or Polaris … just a small school with a couple thousand passengers. Of course, that number had been cut in half when we split to hide out in Siberia. There are probably even less now.
Still, it’s home. And right now, in the middle of all of this, just the sight of it gives me the boost of morale I’ve been missing for weeks now. For a brief moment in time, I’ll no longer be some runaway combing the Fringes with no hope of finding what I’m looking for. The Academy brings order, and relative safety.
I glance at our altitude display. It’s just below 65,000 feet. That’s a lot higher than most Skyships venture. The unending blue of the Pacific stretches before us, sunlight glinting off the surface. After so long in the Fringes, the sheer size of the ship seems impressive. It hovers before us like a castle in the sky—wider than several city blocks and taller than even the most impressive Chosen City. I long to head up and breathe the cool, recycled air of Lookout Park, or walk along the quiet corridors. Unfortunately, those are luxuries that’ll have to wait.
I know Alkine�
��s game plan. He’s a soldier. He likes strategy—emotional disconnect from the situation. Kind of like Cassius. He’ll want meetings. Battle plans. I’ve never been able to do that kind of stuff so well. He’s like Savon in that way. They’re all worried about the bigger picture, what I should be worried about. Instead, I just want Skandar to be all right and for my father to stay with me until the war is over.
Alkine’s words break me from my thoughts. “I’d expect a bit of a welcoming party, Fisher. They’ve missed you.”
I take a deep breath. “Yeah, right.”
“You think I’m kidding?”
The door to the cockpit opens and Avery strides forward. “He’s going to be fine.” She directs the words to me, knowing that I desperately want to hear them. Then she turns her attention to the fast-approaching Skyship. “You know, for a while back there I never thought I’d see her flying again, and over American soil, no less.”
“Are you okay, Avery?”
“Fine,” she responds. “Nothing a little rest won’t cure. If I’m so lucky.”
I turn to look at my father. He remains at the back of the cockpit, head bowed and eyes closed. I’m not sure if he’s sleeping or just charging himself up again. Whatever the case, I decide not to disturb him.
Alkine levels us out and flips a switch on the ceiling. “Five minutes. Prepare yourselves for a lot of noise and a lot of faces.”
We watch in silence as the Academy pulls closer. Our ship heads to the lowest level, an open docking bay ready for our landing. As we continue to approach, I notice my body start to tremble. I don’t know what it is, but the sight of the bay makes me feel sick. I stand, wiping my forehead.
Avery notices. “Is something wrong, Jesse?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
But I’m not. My heart races. Breath tightens. If I continue to let this get to me, it’ll be a full-blown panic attack.
It’s full circle. Seeing the Academy again, realizing that I’m really going home, brings this entire war into focus. Before, it was like I was on some long odyssey in another world. I’d managed to separate all of the traumas of the past few months from the rest of my life. But looking at the Academy like this, floating nearly where it had been before I learned the secret of Pearls, is like déjà vu. But I’ve changed, and my circumstances have definitely changed.
Avery moves beside me. “Jesse—”
“It’s okay.” I take a deep breath, tilt back my head, and stare at the ceiling for a moment. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to win this. My father’s here. I’m not alone.
I keep my attention on the interior of the cockpit even as our ship sets down inside the bay. Then I hear it.
The sound of the crowd starts as a dull roar and continues to build as the ship’s cabin door opens. They’ll take Skandar out first, straight to the med center to get fixed up.
Alkine shuts down the power to the console and stands. “I’ll go first. Make sure your father is close by your side. We don’t want people getting the wrong idea.” With that, he opens the cockpit door, letting in the full clatter from outside, and strides into the docking bay.
Savon wakes from his meditation for the first time. He looks at me with a blank expression before stretching and moving to his feet. “This is your domain, son. I will follow.”
Avery grabs my hand and squeezes, and together we move from the cockpit to the cabin, to bay.
The energy of the people hits me straight away. I’ve never seen or felt such a fervor onboard the Academy. We’ve had guests from time to time, as well as Agents coming back after a difficult mission, but all in all our team is pretty subdued. We’d had to operate in secret for so long that I guess it taught us all the value of restraint.
This is like a sports match. An arena concert. Nobody even seems to bat an eye when Savon emerges behind us. The cheers echo in the large expanse of the docking bay as we move down a narrow corridor created by the crowd.
As I look out among them, I notice some of the teachers’ faces. Mrs. Dembo, head of Year Ten. Mr. Kennewick and Mr. Sorensen—teachers I would have had for my next two years of training. I’m not sure they could teach me anything I haven’t learned already, as a result of everything that’s happened.
Avery and I walk down the length of the docking bay, following Alkine. The crowd parts to let us through, but that doesn’t stop hands from reaching out to attempt awkward high-fives. It’s a blur of faces as I’m led out the wide door and into the familiar corridor at the bottom level of the ship.
Everything’s as I left it. The stale smell of the recycled air is comforting, as is the sheen from the lights overhead.
We take the elevator up to the top levels. Skandar’s long since been transported away. I wish I could do the same—find a place where I can be alone with my thoughts. But I know that even if we find an hour or two to unwind, I’m at the center of this war. It won’t be long before I have to join the battle again.
The elevator lets us off on Level Five, home to meeting rooms, classrooms, and Alkine’s office.
He stops, then turns and hands me a com-pad. “Give me a few moments. I want to brief my men before we talk strategy. Grab something to eat if you want. I’ll be in touch when we’re ready.” He glances over my shoulder at Savon before heading down the hallway.
I let my shoulders loosen and exhale—a long sigh of relief. The panic that I felt in Alkine’s ship has faded, replaced with a weird familiarity. The Academy. With all its old worries that seem so small now. At least I know what to expect here. And better than that, I know the kind of firepower the ship’s capable of in a fight. I saw it firsthand in Seattle a few months ago. Alkine can order maneuvers on a scale that I couldn’t compete with on my own. Will he really be able to help us?
“Shower,” Avery says. “I need a shower before I’m good to do anything.”
I nod. We all do. We need a second to get our bearings, to refuel and reorient ourselves to this battle. Because it’s going to get worse before it gets better. That much I don’t even have to question.
31
Cassius had never felt such freedom before. Even piloting a government cruiser came with its own restrictions. In contrast, the Ridium board underneath him functioned as an extension of his own body. It took but a thought to control it.
Even so, he was forced to look away often during their Ridium-fueled trip cross-country. If it wasn’t the Chosen Cities in the background, exposed and burning, it was the numerous Fringe Towns they passed through.
The Fringes weren’t a nice place at the best of times. But now, it was clear that many towns had been the unlucky settings of attacks from the Authority. The smell of smoke and blood became a constant reminder as skeletal buildings passed by. Three times, they’d narrowly avoided crashing right into the middle of a conflict. Whether it was simply an uprising of sorts or a battle against the invaders, Cassius didn’t know.
All he knew for sure was that they kept going forward.
He didn’t have much of a plan, but he knew that they were heading west. And west, more likely than not, was where he’d find Fisher.
Their sleek craft moved at a remarkable speed—fifty times faster than any land transport he’d ever known, including the Unified Party’s Chute system. Even better than that, his effortless control of the Ridium didn’t leave him feeling any more fatigued than when they’d left the site of his submergence. Once he got it going in the right direction, the craft moved on its own, pushed along by some impossible inertia, as if nothing—even the particle-filled air—would get in its way.
They stopped once at an old storehouse to ravage through some food, but barely spoke. The entire situation was too hard to comprehend. Words didn’t quite do it justice.
Soon, night came. Even though he could have kept their transport going, they decided to stop outside a Fringe Town, a place called Saint Francis—though several of the letters were missing from the city’s sign. It was too small to be inhabited, but that didn
’t mean that there wouldn’t be a Fringer or two around.
They found an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, with a bed and a couch downstairs. Both had seen better shape. They decided to take turns keeping watch. Cassius elected to go first, partly because he wasn’t particularly tired and partly because he wanted some time alone.
He sat on the wraparound front porch of the old farmhouse, his back against the outside wall. He’d allowed the Ridium to slip from his head, forming what looked like a combat bodysuit around the rest of him. From far away, people would probably mistake it for something as simple as a black shirt and trousers. In the darkness, there wasn’t even much of a reflection off the material.
A Shifter.
He concentrated on the Ridium clinging to his chest. With but a thought, he could pull a strand of it into the air, thicker and longer until a trunk of blackness oozed from his chest. He flattened it into a shieldlike circle in front of him, then all at once snapped it back against his body to look like a suit once more.
He thought back to Theo—Matigo’s son—and remembered how the boy had seemingly been driven crazy by the substance. For a panicked second, he wondered if the same could happen to him. But the kid had always been wrong in the head, and Cassius didn’t feel like he was losing a grip on anything. In fact, it was the opposite. Everything seemed clearer, like the world had gone from flat to round right before his eyes.
“Cassius.”
He heard Madame’s voice behind him, soft in the silence of the night air.
He didn’t turn to look at her. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Wishful thinking.” She moved beside him. “What’s on your mind?”
He chuckled. Like she cared about anything that was troubling him. She’d never cared, only pretended to so that she could use him.
“This is a marvelous substance,” she continued, her hand reaching out to touch his arm before stopping inches away. “I remember when you first came to me, with that box made of Ridium. I labored over it for some time, trying to discern where it had come from. Imagine my surprise when I realized that it was not from Earth.”
