All Rights Reserved

by Gregory Scott Katsoulis

  I whipped out the only thing I had that resembled a weapon—my grapple hook. He pulled a gun. He had a clear shot, and with dread, I realized I was about to die.

  “Stop!” Rog warned. The maroon brother startled, and then his brow narrowed. The room hummed with the sound of a thousand NanoLion™ batteries keeping the WiFi powered. Did Rog really want me alive this badly?

  “Aim carefully,” Rog said slowly, his eyes wide.

  Suddenly I realized that he didn’t want me alive at all. He feared what would happen to the batteries—those stupid, volatile NanoLion™ batteries!

  At once, they turned to targets in my mind. I didn’t care how dangerous it would be to hit them. It didn’t matter anymore—Rog would see me dead or worse if he caught me.

  The maroon brother had to aim perfectly—he had to hit me, and nothing else. All I had to do was hit any one of a dozen battery packs near him. But I only had one shot.

  I pulled the trigger. The line shot out, and its sharp spear zipped by the brute’s head. I let go of the gun; I couldn’t be connected by that wire when it hit. I ducked and averted my eyes from the coming explosion. The maroon brother made a small, fearful noise, but then he laughed.

  “I’m coming for you, sister,” he warned.

  Behind his head, the grapple had pierced a battery’s case and—that was all. Nothing. The maroon brother holstered his gun and cracked his knuckles. He took a step. He could take care of me by hand now. But then the battery behind him bulged, like a steel balloon, emitting a high-pitched whine. The corners of it wrinkled. It hissed. He turned, his expression full of growing horror.

  Blue-white jets of flame flared out. He staggered back, crossing his arms in front of his face just as the battery pack exploded.

  Rog wailed from the platform above, like the coming inferno was inside him. A sudden, blinding white light filled the room as another pack burst. There was a brief scream, then another high-pitched whine, followed by yet another explosion and more white light.

  I stood there too long, stunned and horrified by what I had just done. This isn’t going to stop. This is a chain reaction. I’d known what was coming, but watching it happen was something else entirely. Panic and amazement blossomed together in my gut.

  Rog’s building, WiFi and all, could not withstand the white-hot intensity of a hundred thousand NanoLion™ batteries exploding. I looked up and understood that we had to go—now.

  Rog turned on Saretha, murder in his eyes, but she had slipped away from him. She was on the railing, two stories up, facing Rog. She looked back at the drop with her odd, Zockroft™-induced smile, and slipped from sight with a nauseating thud.

  No! I screamed in my head. Not Saretha. Not her, too!

  I pushed my way through the heat. The hum of the batteries warbled as the glow increased and spread. I had to shield my eyes to see as I worked my way through the room, telling myself the fall was not that far. Flames licked up all around me. The brothers were silent, obscured by the chaos—dead, or perhaps they’d bolted.

  My heart pounding, I found Saretha splayed on the floor, her head turned away from the heat of a ruptured battery core. Another explosion sounded across the room. I raced to her, profoundly relieved to see her eyes flutter at the sound.

  “We have to get out,” Kel yelled. The hum of the room turned into a moan.

  I tried to help Saretha up, but she was barely conscious and could not stand. She had broken her legs in the fall, one of them badly enough that the angle of her shin made me queasy.

  “Leave me,” she croaked, expecting shocks in her eyes, but they didn’t come. The tether was broken. She shouted, more resolved. “Leave me!”

  “That would be dumb,” Margot said. “Henri, carry her.”

  Henri obediently picked her up.

  “Henri the hero,” Margot commented, pushing him along.

  We fled up the stairs fast. We were good at this, traveling like a group with speed and efficiency. We burst out from the stairwell into the garage. Immediately, there was yelling from the opposite side.

  “Get them!” Rog screeched.

  Rog and his guards might have fled the inferno, but they weren’t going to give up on capturing me.

  “There!” a voice yelled, clearly meaning us.

  “Two o’clock,” Kel announced, looking at dozens of shapes gathering on our right under the flickering light.

  Kel and Henri raced left, to a gleaming Nayarit Silver Ford Brute™. After a moment, Kel did something to the thumbprint reader. It clicked open.

  The hard garage floor rumbled with a low, ominous hum, followed by a series of thuds. Dust shook from the ceiling. Doors opened at the far end of the garage, and security agents began to pour out. There was no Legal jargon this time: no warnings. There was no hesitation for fear of hitting a NanoLion™ battery.

  Gunshots rang out, and I knew they meant to kill us.

  Kel rushed us into the vehicle. Bullets pinged off the glass and hood. It was bulletproof—of course; it was a Lawyer’s car.

  In the confusion, I got in last and found myself in the driver’s seat.

  “Go,” Kel barked. “Go!”

  The seatbelts clicked in around us. There wasn’t time to argue with Kel. I knew the basics from driving class.

  “Ford™ is not responsible for injury, loss of life or other risks associated with automobile accidents. Please drive responsibly,” the car chimed as the engine roared to life.

  We jerked forward, plunging into a crowd of security guards who dove away in the nick of time.

  I was driving too fast, by any normal account. No time for caution. The car flew up the exit ramp and arced through the air onto the street. We came down hard with a screech of metal and a shower of sparks behind us.

  News dropters wobbled and buzzed in from both sides of the street, encircling our car.

  Rog and his men scrambled to follow us. A few seconds later, an Ebony Meiboch™ Triumph appeared out of the darkness of the garage and bounced into the street behind us. In my rearview mirror, I watched it roar after us. The thin, flame-orange highlights told me exactly who was back there. Several other large, similar cars spread out behind.

  The news dropters spread out, and more came in from up high. Then, suddenly, all of them faltered and dropped out of the sky. One banged off our hood and went spinning to the pavement. Another glanced off the roof.

  “The WiFi is down,” Kel confirmed. “There is no tether.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at this. Behind us, two of Rog’s cars skidded out, dropters caught under their wheels.

  Excitement flooded through me. Rog would have no way to coordinate. He would have no way to track us. The only task left was to lose him and figure out where to go.

  MEIBOCH™: $540,000

  I jerked the wheel to turn, but did it harder than I should have. We skidded and swerved, bashing into an Ad station, but it didn’t slow me. I tried again, with a little more control on the next turn. We zoomed down a narrow side street. Mr. Skrip, my driving teacher, would have been proud.

  Kel shook her head. “Focus.” She swiped at her Pad and looked uncertainly out the window. “The Twenty-Second Radian and Ring 12.”

  “You look like that actress,” Henri said to Saretha.

  My brain tried to understand that Kel, Margot and Henri had never met my sister. I glanced back at them in the rearview mirror.

  “Henri, you idiot,” Margot said, forcing him to switch places and shuffling herself next to my sister. A fake smile masked, or failed to mask, Saretha’s agony. Margot kept her eyes on Saretha and held out her hand to Kel. “Nexbuprofen™.”

  Kel passed back something that looked like a small red bean. Margot injected it into my sister’s arm.

  Thank you, Saretha mouthed, her eyes going a
little dim. Margot began to wrap her leg. I kept glancing back, despite myself.

  “Focus on the road!” Kel warned, then, less harshly, “She will be okay. Jumping to get away from Rog was probably a smart move. Her legs will heal.”

  Between my sister and the Meibochs™ on our tail, it was hard to concentrate on where we were going. I couldn’t let myself worry about Saretha right now; Margot would take care of her. I had to keep moving. I had to be brave.

  Where were we going? I gripped the wheel to keep my hands steady. Driving at this speed on these interior streets was beyond reckless. I swerved around a line of cars and blasted through a light. Rog’s Ebony Meiboch™ was clipped just behind me. It skidded sideways and smashed into the side of a parked car. The wheels smoked as his car tore off after us once more. Farther back, at least three others followed.

  “We should take the Western Exit off the outer rim,” Kel said, thinking ahead.

  Henri checked his bag. “What if we shot a grapple line out...?” he started excitedly.

  Margot shook her head. “You will lose your hand.”

  Henri looked at his grapple with disappointment.

  No matter how many sharp turns I took, Rog and his crew would not be shaken. On the sidewalks, people were out, but I was going too fast to gauge their reactions. Did anyone have a clue what had just happened?

  There was a thundering crack from the center of the city. It sounded like when the dome was struck by lightning. My heart skipped a beat, terrified the damage might be bad enough to take down the dome. People on the street staggered and cowered.

  “Left, then right. The Twentieth Radian is wide,” Kel said, unphased. I swerved into and out of each turn.

  I tried to glance up at the city’s roof, but a shot rang out behind us. It ticked off the bumper and zipped off with a cartoonish whir. In the rearview mirror, I saw the indigo brother hanging out the passenger window of Rog’s car, his tongue in his teeth. He was alive. That was disappointing.

  He fired again and again. Rog’s car pulled up and rammed us from behind.

  Henri laughed at him.

  “Eventually he’ll shoot the tires,” Kel said, frowning. “Or knock us off the road.”

  Margot threw her bag to the floor in frustration. There was nothing in it to help us. Henri bit his lip. I feinted a turn, and the Meiboch™ dipped right, then came back after us, gaining. Henri’s window motored open.

  “Henri!” Margot shouted. Saretha groaned.

  Henri leaned out and fired his grapple. His gun whipped out of the car, slamming out of the window, then bounced out onto the road, where it beat around and around Rog’s driver’s side wheel until the gun was pulverized.

  “Yes!” Henri shouted, shaking his hand out and laughing.

  “You idiot!” Margot screamed.

  Kel clucked her tongue. Saretha groaned.

  “See, I can have good ideas,” Henri announced proudly.

  Kel squinted back and shrugged. “Maybe it will slow them down.”

  “Let me have your grapple,” Henri said to Margot with a wild gleam in his eye.

  In the rearview mirror, I could see the wheel he’d hit wobbling swiftly.

  “Here!” Kel jabbed her finger at the road. We were coming up on the entrance to the outer ring. I took the curve hard, remembering too late that I shouldn’t accelerate into a turn. We slid into the wall with a metal screech.

  Rog’s car slammed us from behind. My body jerked back and then forward. More gunfire peppered the car. My heart was pounding—I couldn’t let Rog catch me. It wasn’t just my survival instinct; it was a powerful need not to let him win. I floored it, and Rog’s driver kept right after me.

  On the outer ring, the speedometer pushed past two hundred miles per hour.

  “We’ll take the Western Exit,” Kel said.

  “Out of the city?” Henri asked.

  The thought turned my stomach to knots. I had no idea what was out there. Plus, there were people who needed me inside the dome. Nancee was here somewhere. There was Penepoli and Mandett, not to mention all the Silents. They would be gathering, or had gathered.

  Kel didn’t answer. Where did she want to go? We sped past Falxo Park and under the bridge just beyond. Above us, dozens of people looked down. In the rearview mirror, I saw the bridge and the park and the crowd. I couldn’t see how many. Were they all Silents?

  Rog’s cars had spilled out behind us and fanned across the wide lanes of the outer ring. Without the streets to contain them, they could move in against us. I pushed the pedal to the floor, and the Brute™’s fat wheels hugged the curve of the road.

  Falxo Park and the long, arching bridge receded in the distance, dotted by the silhouettes of people seemingly jostling to see down. Behind the black glass of Rog’s car, I could see nothing of the man I wanted to destroy.

  “It’s coming up fast,” Kel warned. The Western Exit was in view, on the opposite side of the road. I couldn’t make it, or perhaps I didn’t want to. I let my hands make the choice. If we left the city, we might end up someplace where the WiFi was functioning. Rog could call for help—he could coordinate. I needed to stay here and see this through.

  “Speth?” Kel asked.

  I dipped the wheel, crossing all eight lanes, skimming the outer edge of the wall toward the exit. I wanted them to think we were leaving. Rog and his men took the bait. They followed, but I peeled off at the last moment. One of Rog’s cars panicked and slammed right into the sharp wall. Two others disappeared down the tunnel so that only Rog’s Meiboch™ Triumph remained behind us.

  Despite my efforts, his Meiboch™ continued to inch closer.

  I made a snap decision and turned fast, whipping up the next exit. Rog was caught off guard, and the Meiboch™ shot past us. As we went up the ramp, Rog’s driver slammed on the car’s brakes, but the ring traffic kept coming. He couldn’t back up through the onslaught. The Meiboch™ peeled out, clearly heading for the next exit, and I quickly turned the car back, taking us toward the park.

  “What are you doing?” Margot demanded, then, realizing I wasn’t going to answer, she asked Kel, “What is she doing?”

  “Shh,” Kel shushed, because she could see what I saw up ahead. It wasn’t just a few dozen people who had gathered—it was more like a thousand, and despite the WiFi being out, they were all totally silent.

  DEBT: $55,000,000

  People had gathered in and around the park, just like Sera had said they would. They crowded the bridge and flooded the outer boulevard of shops. I didn’t know if they were all Silents, but no one was speaking. The scene was at once heartening and eerie. The only sound came from their shuffling, and from the distant chaos at the center of the city. I could not shake the feeling they were waiting for me, though they could not have known I was here.

  I slowed the car to a stop at the edge of the crowd. From every direction, people were straggling in, drawn to this spot where I had fallen silent, where Beecher had killed himself, where Sam had been murdered.

  A terrible moan escaped me. It had only been a day. I looked away from the bridge, swallowing hard, and stepped out of the car.

  My presence drew the attention of everyone who could see me. Fingers pointed and people nudged each other, but still no one spoke. A stage and podium were set up, just as they had been for me on my Last Day. For one, self-important moment, I thought it was for me, but then I realized it was Mandett Kresh’s Last Day celebration. He stood at the edge of the stage, looking at me, wide-eyed and hopeful. Was he going to go silent? Was that his plan? Around him, I saw a few familiar faces. Norflo Juarze, Itzel Gonz and Penepoli. Phlip and Vitgo were hanging near the back of the crowd.

  I could not help but think of who wasn’t here. Beecher and Sam. My parents. Mrs. Stokes. Nancee. Would the freedom of the untethered WiFi help h
er? Would it help any of us?

  In the distance, another enormous crack resounded. The dome shuddered with the sound. Two enormous hexagonal tiles came loose near the city’s center. The Aeroluminum® panels fell like snowflakes and floated down between the buildings.

  A surge of weakness pounded through me, wondering if I had doomed us all. And, if I hadn’t, what now? What came next?

  Police hovered around the edges of the gathering multitude, tentative and uncomfortable in their riot gear. During such a catastrophic event, it was their mandate to keep not just the peace, but also the silence.

  “Under criminal code 7129, you are prohibited from all forms of Copyrighted and Trademarked communication, including speech, while WiFi and tether services are unavailable,” a pleasant, recorded female voice reminded the crowd. The police played this recording at seemingly random intervals around the edges. Ironically, the Silents and I were, by virtue of our silence, the most Law-abiding citizens in the city.

  The morning sun blazed down in two shafts from hexagonal holes in the dome, shining down somewhere into the Troisième. I wondered how dangerous that sunlight was.

  I pushed forward, not knowing what else to do. Rog would not take long to circle the ring and find us. Kel, Margot and Henri, with my sister on his back, followed me into the crowd. We could never escape now. Something else had to be done.

  My bag was still on my shoulder, damp from the sweat of my escape. Penepoli’s eyes went wide as I drew closer. She nodded and clutched her chest, like I was some kind of celebrity.

  I caught a flash of Arkansas Holt in his chartreuse suit. He stood beside a pair of police officers, pointing toward me. I recognized one of them—Shalk. Our eyes met, and he stood his ground, holding back the other officers with a light touch. Behind their backs, Holt gave me a double thumbs-up, zippered his lips and vanished into the crowd.

  All around, Affluents were fleeing. They ducked their heads out of the surrounding shops and then, suddenly, one of them would run for it, as best as they were able. Where were they going? What were they afraid we would do?