by Natasha Ngan
Akhezo looked out at the city. Almost directly below was the Outer Circle of the river, its waters already busy with boats, and beyond it the buildings of the inner city rose up like flat metal mountains, growing higher than the skylung in the densest parts. It was a beautiful view, but what he registered was not its beauty; it was hatred for the Council who controlled it. He took a dark pleasure in looking at the city and knowing that the Pigeons were going to be the ones to bring the Council down.
‘Watch out,’ he sniggered to himself. ‘You never know when Pigeons are gonna come and crap all over you.’
Akhezo had been abandoned by his mother at birth, and a Red forge-owner had chanced upon the crying baby and claimed him. Then, four years ago, Domino had found him in the forge in the Limpets’ lowest floor. He remembered Domino leering at him through the flames of the furnace he was pumping, the man’s old face all wrinkly and grey-eyed. Domino had bought Akhezo off the Red, and though Akhezo had been wary at first, the minute he set foot in the skylung he knew things were looking up.
Domino had handed Akhezo a pair of shining white trainers. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
‘What’re they for?’ he’d asked.
Domino had grinned. ‘They’re for running.’
Akhezo never had much brains or patience, but you didn’t need any of that for running. All you needed were quick feet and an eye for spotting trouble. Those were two things most Limpets kids had. He’d spotted trouble the minute he’d laid eyes on those two Council-type snobs; a skinny little Red girl and a tall Mainland boy.
Just wait till I tell Cambridge ’bout you two, Akhezo thought, sniggering.
He crossed the balcony and started down a ladder strung between the pod he was on and the one to its left. The outside of the skylung was covered in these ladders, slides and ropes, enabling Pigeon members to move between the pods, and from the ground they were invisible, hidden among the dark mass of tangled vegetation that wreathed the skylungs like green cobwebs. Razor-edged leaves cut into his skin as he crossed the ladder. At his sides the world yawned open, a mouth waiting for food to be dropped into it.
‘Not this time,’ he taunted. He reached the balcony of the other pod and had just pulled himself up when the door in its wall burst open.
‘Dammit!’ A thin girl stormed out, curses flying from her mouth. She had pale skin, an assortment of piercings on her face and short, silvery hair, spiky and shot through with pink. She flung the door so violently it bounced back in her face, making her swear again.
Akhezo laughed.
The girl whipped her head towards him. ‘Oh, shut it, Akhezo!’ she snarled.
He made a face at her. ‘What’s got you so angry, Neve? One of the women try and get you into a dress again?’
‘Gods, that was awful,’ she snorted. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her baggy canvas overalls, which were slung over a big white T-shirt. ‘Nah,’ she explained. ‘I was just trying to spy on Cambridge’s meeting this morning. Something top secret apparently – though isn’t it always? Domino found me in the corridor outside and … well, here I am.’
‘Something top secret?’ Akhezo said excitedly. ‘Maybe it’s related to my news. I’ve gotta see Cambridge.’
He made for the doorway but Neve darted in front of it. ‘What’ve you got?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing.
‘Mind your own business.’
She smirked. ‘It must be good. You’d tell me if it wasn’t. Come on, let’s share it! Let’s tell Cambridge it was our find, he’ll –’
Akhezo pushed her aside. He got hold of the door handle, but as he pulled it open and stepped inside she pounced, jumping on his back. He crashed to the floor. Neve sat on him, laughing, then crying out as Akhezo reared up and grabbed her hair, yanking it hard. They fought scrappily until a croaky voice shouted at them from down the corridor.
‘You little rats! Get up at once!’
They stood up quickly, smoothing down their clothes and plucking bits of vegetation out of their hair as Domino waddled towards them in his hunched-over way, pointing his finger with one thin, shaking hand, the other clutching at the hems of his tattered robes. His wrinkled face was flushed with anger. They stood up quickly, smoothing down their clothes and plucking bits of vegetation out of their hair.
‘I should fling both of you off this pod!’ Domino grabbed them by the scruffs of their collars. ‘An important meeting, that was, and you two decide to have a spat on Cambridge’s doorstep. Insolence!’
Akhezo didn’t know what ‘insolence’ meant but he could tell Domino was angry. It wasn’t good to anger Domino. As Cambridge’s most trusted finder – someone who found and employed talent for the Pigeons – he had the ability to say who stayed and who went from the skylung. Akhezo wouldn’t go back to the Limpets. He’d been born in the dirt there like a maggot, but he wouldn’t live like one.
‘Sorry, Domino,’ Akhezo said. He pointed at Neve. ‘But she started it!’
‘What! It was all you, Akhezo, you big fat liar –’
‘Silence!’ Domino croaked, as loudly as his old lungs allowed him. ‘The meeting is over now. If neither one of you little rats has anything to report to Cambridge, then get lost.’
‘I’ve got something,’ said Akhezo quickly.
Domino nodded. He pushed Akhezo roughly down the corridor. ‘All right, boy. Come with me.’
‘Hey, what about me!’ Neve spluttered from behind them.
The old man flapped a hand at her. ‘Go away, girl! And don’t let me catch you skulking out here again, or I’ll throw you off the pod ledge for real this time.’
Akhezo grinned. He glanced back and could almost see the steam coming out of Neve’s ears.
Cambridge’s private rooms were the only place in the skylung where the plants had been cleared completely. The rank smell of rotting vegetation was kept at bay by incense and scented pouches hanging from the walls and ceiling. The place was almost homely; an assortment of furniture, piles of stolen books. Birds twittering in pretty cages.
Domino led Akhezo to a meeting room at the back of the pod and knocked on the door.
‘Come in!’ called a bright voice.
Inside, a man was standing on a table that took up most of the room. He was middle-aged, tall and slim, with a handsome face and floppy, golden brown hair. He wore a shabby tunic and robe that swirled round his ankles as he paced across the wooden surface.
‘Ah, Domino, Akhezo!’ He jumped off the table, flashing them a wide smile. ‘Sorry about that. I find I think better on the table rather than at it. I, ah, thought the meeting was over?’
Domino made a grumbling sound. ‘Akhezo has information for you, Cambridge. Please sit down and listen.’
‘Of course, of course!’ Cambridge made an apologetic face, though when Domino had shuffled past, he caught Akhezo’s eyes with his own bright green pair and winked.
Once they had all sat, Cambridge leant forward across the table and said with childish eagerness, ‘Speak up, Akhezo! What information do you have for me?’
Akhezo shifted, a little nervous at having the rapt attention of the leader of the Pigeons. ‘Well, I … I was on running duty when I came across these two Council snobs. They wanted to find Little Mae, so I thought I’d take them to her personally. You know, find out what they wanted without asking.’
Cambridge clapped his hands. ‘Good, good! You’re a Pigeon through and through.’
Akhezo flushed with pride. He grew bolder, recounting his story hurriedly. ‘Little Mae let me stay in the room as they talked, and I overheard them telling her they wanted to … to leave Neo! They wanted birthchip blockers, the directions to the nearest village in the Outside. Everything. Little Mae took me aside and said she wouldn’t turn on the birthchip blockers until you said so.’
Cambridge jumped up from his stool. ‘This is it!’ he cried. He grabbed Akhezo and shook him, his eyes wide with excitement.
‘Slow down, Cambridge,’ Do
mino wheezed, but Cambridge just went and grabbed him too, laughing.
‘Ah, this is it, my dear friends. This is what we’ve been waiting for!’ And without another word, he hurtled out of the room, laughing and whooping all the way.
With an exasperated sigh, Domino grabbed Akhezo’s arm and dragged him after Cambridge. They found the man bouncing around a large room covered in screens of all sizes, displaying complex map-like images in black and white. Red dots flashed on some of the screens. Their glow lit his laughing face as he turned to them, and for a moment he looked almost mad in the ghostly white light.
‘Look!’
Akhezo followed Cambridge’s pointing finger to one of the screens. Its image was less cluttered than the other ones. There were only two lines, marking some sort of tunnel, and he realised straight away what it was.
‘The tunnel out of the city!’ he gasped. Towards the edge of the screen were two flashing red dots. ‘Are those the Council members?’
Cambridge nodded. ‘I just checked the birthchip database and it’s them all right. Though it’s a shame I can’t see her pretty face – she looked lovely in the chai bar. Just as they had described. Silver and her friend Butterfly, our little runaways. Our homing pigeons, doing exactly what we wanted.’
‘What we wanted?’ asked Akhezo eagerly.
Domino spluttered. ‘Really, Cambridge! This is top-secret information. We should not be giving it to this child.’
‘This child has brought us the news that we’ve been waiting for,’ said Cambridge, ignoring Domino. He clutched Akhezo tightly by the shoulders. ‘The news that will change everything! It’s time, my dear boy. It’s all begun. And I’ll need you to help me – there is a lot to do.’ He lowered his voice and said almost reverently, ‘The time has come for the Pigeons to fly.’
13
The Tunnel
The tunnel out of the city was long and deep. After hours in the dim light, her senses clogged with the earthy smell of soil and the feel of dirt under her fingernails, Silver felt as though she’d been crawling there her whole life. By the time it grew tall enough for them to stand, both she and Butterfly were covered in soil. She stretched, sighing in pleasure as her muscles relaxed, her joints easing.
‘A break?’ asked Butterfly.
‘Yes, please.’ Silver pulled off her backpack and sat down against the bare-earth wall. ‘What did you pack in these things? Never heard of the term travel light?’
He smiled wryly. ‘It’s hard to pack when you’re going somewhere you know nothing about.’
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think.’
‘It’s fine.’ Butterfly sat down beside her and opened his backpack. ‘Let’s see. There’s our Elite uniforms – we should probably change into them soon. Some medical equipment. A couple of knives. Our stunguns. Material for blankets and hammocks. And here.’ He pulled out a box and passed it to her. ‘The most important thing of all.’
Silver laughed as she opened it; the box was stuffed with food. ‘Please tell me there’s chilli rice crackers in there.’
Butterfly smiled. ‘How could I not bring your favourite food?’
After a quick snack, they picked up their torches and set off again. Butterfly consulted the piece of paper with directions Little Mae had given them as they went. The old woman hadn’t wanted to give it to them until after they’d reached the tunnel entrance, but he’d offered more money to have it right away. Silver couldn’t believe how lucky they’d been for that. If Little Mae had refused, that piece of paper would have been left there lying in the Limpets with her dead body.
She shivered, remembering what had happened to Little Mae. Her small body keening forward with the momentum of the bullet, a patch of blood blooming across her back. It reminded her of Tanaka. She felt a fresh wave of shame then at how she’d failed the Council that day on Hemmingway House. Now, because of her, someone else was dead. One thing she was certain of was that the two people she couldn’t afford to fail were her parents.
Silver pointed to the piece of paper in Butterfly’s hand. ‘How much longer?’
‘There’s a rest stop about three miles ahead. We can get some sleep there. After that, it’s half a day’s walk to the end of the tunnel.’
‘So we’ll be out of here in around twenty-four hours?’
‘Hopefully.’ He smiled.
Just like that, the thought of sunshine on her face and the fresh smell of wind and Butterfly’s beautiful, fleeting smile made all the tiredness and fear disappear from Silver’s body, and for one small, perfect moment, she felt like everything was going to be all right.
They spent the night at the rest stop, a small room off to the side of the tunnel with a couple of makeshift bedpods carved into its walls. Butterfly was so exhausted from the long hours of travelling that he fell asleep as soon as he lay down. But just as quickly as sleep came, so did the dream. The dream that haunted him most nights, half memory, half regret –
The dream about the explosion …
Butterfly left his family’s apartment and went down the elevator to the condominium’s foyer, just as he had done that day. He’d spent the afternoon with his parents and his newborn sister Emeli; just a small, soap-smelling, swaddled thing, ruddy cheeked and beautiful.
It was the first and last time he had seen her.
In the foyer. Watery light filtered through the glass doors. A motorised rickshaw waited outside. As Butterfly stepped out of the building, the driver spotted him and hastily stuffed the rest of the chicken-rice ball in his mouth, gave a little wave and ricey grin. Behind him, half hidden by a tatty curtain of material drawn across the opening, one of the junior Elite guardians sat on the passenger bench. Butterfly watched his shadowy outline, saw the tiny burst of flame as the guardian lit a portable shisha.
He felt that same hot flush of unease in his chest he had felt that day. Go back inside, a voice in his head was urging him. Something’s not right. So he turned and ran back into the foyer.
He’d pictured this moment, dreamt of it, a thousand times before. What happened each time changed slightly. Sometimes he pulled off his shirt and opened his wings and flew up the stairwell, reaching the apartment door just as the explosion started. Sometimes he got inside first, and then it happened. Sometimes he ran, and halfway up the stairs he felt the shudder, saw the crack of white that split across the ceiling, debris punching his body. Sometimes he couldn’t walk or fly up the stairs at all, and just stood at the bottom, looking up with a sickly taste of fear in his mouth.
But every time he was the teenage Butterfly, his current age, and not the young child of six he had been the day it happened. The child that had got into the rickshaw and, just as it began to move, had pulled back the curtain and saw the apartment burst from the inside out.
This time, he just stood at the bottom of the stairwell and waited for the shudder to come.
When he woke, Butterfly felt more tired than he had before sleeping. The burst of the explosion still prickled behind his eyelids. He pressed his thumbs against them, trying to get rid of the horrible image and the breathless feeling the dream always left him with. Silver had curled next to him while he had been asleep. Her burrowed face was turned towards him, soft in sleep. Her closeness calmed him, dimming the roar of the explosion and the bursting of the fire behind his eyelids until they’d drained away. Until the quietness of the cocooned space of the bedpod wrapped its arms round him, and the dream was gone.
Butterfly shook Silver gently. ‘Wake up. We’d better go.’
They changed into their Elite uniforms and headed back into the tunnel. They made good time, walking steadily in silence, and Butterfly was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, hour after hour, that when the beam of light from his torch hit something solid in the path up ahead, he didn’t notice at first. Then he focused properly on what he was seeing and stopped still, touching Silver’s arm.
‘What?’ she asked.
He pointed ahead. They squ
inted into the darkness of the tunnel, and saw something flat and metal; a door. As they approached it, their torchlight slashed across a line of words painted across the metal:
Welcome to the Outside!
This is it, thought Butterfly, feeling a thrill of excitement, his heart start to race. With Silver, he gripped the handle and pushed. The door opened into more darkness. Butterfly’s heart fell, but a second later he felt a rush of air hit his face, cool and crisp. Up ahead, the tunnel seemed lighter too. He turned to Silver and they burst out laughing.
‘Race you!’ She grinned, and the words had barely left her mouth before she was off.
Butterfly ran after her, the light at the end of the tunnel yawning open, turning blue as he got close enough to tell it was the sky. After what felt like days of darkness, he was overwhelmed by how blue it looked. He ran faster, panting as the incline got steeper, and before he knew it he was clambering out into sunlight, into the world –
Into the Outside.
Part II
OUTSIDE
14
Trapped
Silver and Butterfly stood rooted to where they had emerged from the tunnel, a gust of wind hitting their dusty faces and open land stretching out before them as though some god had unfolded a map at their feet and the world rolled out.
They’d exited the tunnel at the top of a long shoulder of hill. From their high vantage point Silver could see for miles; an emerald sea of grass and forests, the glittering snake of the river winding through it all. The grass was long and green. Pockets of flowers dotted the landscape, and even the dark swatch of trees at the closest forest border was coloured with more shades of green than Silver knew existed. Above, the sky was a flat lid of blue. The horizon shimmered in the distance, its pale grey slither like a mouth waiting to smile.
