by Rebecca Rode
Finley stared at the prince in fascination. When she caught me looking at her, she leaned back and looked out the window again.
“Why the different tiers?” I asked, scrambling to change the subject again. “There are, what, six levels of traffic?”
“Yes, and the answer is in our history.” The prince leaned back in his seat but didn’t slouch. “When our former capital city, London, was destroyed in 2058, Parliament chose Liverpool as our new center of commerce. Many southerners weren’t happy about moving north, but Liverpool was less affected and made the most financial sense. It quickly became one of the busiest international trade centers in the world. Rather than tearing down critical parts of our history to make room, we built up. This system is the reason our city can house six million people.”
“Six million?” I burst out. That was more than the entire population of NORA.
“Indeed.”
“So who lives on the lower level, in all the older buildings?” Vance asked casually. “The poor?”
“Real estate in the upper levels is in high demand. The rich do enjoy their view. Your flat is elevated as well, Ambassador. I inspected it myself just yesterday.”
“Is your palace part of a skyscraper too?” I asked.
“No, no. Tradition is of supreme importance here. The palace is situated just outside the city. Not much like Buckingham was, though I’m rather glad for it. Seemed like such a stuffy place.” One of his guards cocked an eyebrow at that. The prince grinned as if that had been his intention all along.
I turned back to the window. “It’s amazing,” I breathed.
The prince nodded. “It’s brilliant, particularly compared with your standard of living. I personally find your country’s history charming—a devastating war, survivors gathering to begin life over, and now finally emerging from a sheltered existence onto the international scene. It’s like one of those old films. Shame your country refused to correspond with us for so long.”
I drew my lips together. No wonder he thought we were savages. We had no trade agreements, no military alliances. No outside travel. If it wasn’t for the queen’s airship, we’d still be stuck in NORA. None of our aircraft could make it farther than a day’s travel in any direction on a single charge.
“We have everything we need,” Vance said carefully.
“Are all the countries so far ahead of us?” I asked. “France? Russia? China?”
Prince Augustus cocked his head. “I would assume so. I’ve never been permitted past the eastern continental border, unfortunately, so my understanding is based on secondhand accounts by my mother’s advisers.”
“Have you confirmed that the Chinese president has rejected his convention invitation?” Vance asked.
The prince’s face hardened as his mirth faded. “The man ignores all our invitations. It’s probably for the best. His stay would be difficult to manage with tensions as high as they are. Chiu recently signed an alliance with Russia, and our two countries have a particularly long history.”
I nodded slowly. “It was Russia who destroyed London, then.”
The prince blinked in surprise, then grinned. “As I said, you’re perceptive, Ambassador. Our war with Russia was a lifetime ago, but its effects linger. I do believe you understand that better than most.”
We left what I assumed was downtown, with its busy shops, and headed toward a flatter section of the city. The taller buildings, which looked at least fifty years old, didn’t extend as high here, although they were easily thirty stories.
Night had already begun its slow descent upon the world when our transport turned onto a narrow section of “road” and squeezed between two structures. Then the view opened up to reveal a large white dome on top of a shorter building of maybe six stories. The tip looked to be constructed from a hundred large hexagons, almost like a huge balloon. A line of soldiers stood at attention outside the main door.
“A greenhouse?” Vance asked.
“Not exactly,” the prince said as his guards leaped out, then stepped aside for the prince to do the same. “Modern style incorporates the outdoors in a very literal sense. You’ll see what I mean when you step inside. May I?” He held out a hand to help me out.
I looked at Vance, whose dark eyes were locked on me. “Thank you,” I said, taking his hand and stepping out. “This place is huge.”
“It was once a higher citizen’s residence. He donated it to the royal family upon his death. We house guests here now.”
“I’m surprised something as amazing as this wasn’t already taken.”
“We save this flat for the most important of our important guests.” He motioned to the estate. “Your guards have their own flat beneath you in the main building. The dome is for you, and I assure you it’s more secure than it appears. The glass is impenetrable, cloaked, shatterproof, and far stronger than the stone that encloses the building. Meals will be served four times daily, and your schedule will appear on the wall screen inside. When you’re scheduled to leave the building, a transport will arrive with your guards for that day. The official introductions begin at nine tomorrow morning.”
“This is all very kind of you,” I said as Finley climbed out of the transport. “Will you be at the introductions?”
“Alas, my mother has other plans for me tomorrow. Although I’d much rather be here with you.” He shot me a winning smile.
Vance reached my side, expressionless.
The prince’s smile faltered, and he glanced at the transport. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in, then. Should you need anything, or if you feel your safety is compromised in any way, simply tell my guards. They’ll ensure I’m notified. I’ll see you on Friday at the convention.”
“I look forward to it, Your Highness,” I said. “Thanks for everything.”
“It has truly been my pleasure, Ambassador. But, please, call me Prince Augustus.”
I nodded. “Treena.”
“Treena. Beautiful.” The prince flashed his wide smile again and climbed in with his guards.
As the transport lifted off the platform and glided away, Vance let out a slow breath. “I really don’t like him.”
I snickered. “You don’t like anyone.”
His expression softened. “That’s true.”
“Let’s go inside while we wait for the others to arrive. I’m curious about the whole greenhouse thing.” I threaded my fingers through his and squeezed his hand tightly.
He stiffened. “Fine, but let me scout it out first. Stay here with Finley until I come back.” He glared at the prince’s soldiers, who had begun to fan out across the property, and then disappeared inside, eyeing the glass exterior with his usual suspicion.
Vance returned twenty minutes later, a mixture of emotions on his face. I raised an eyebrow. “No assassins in hiding with giant knives?”
“Not today. Thanks, Finley. I’ll take it from here.”
Finley lingered a moment as if ready to argue. I felt a little bad for her. Vance had seized her position when he’d leaped through the hatch on our aircraft, and I hadn’t talked to her about where she stood. I made a mental note to do that later. She finally nodded and stepped away, already examining my new quarters as I turned my attention back to Vance.
“Let me guess. You picked up a table and threw it at the glass to test it.”
He chuckled. “You’re not too far off, but it seems safe enough for now. You’re not going to believe this.” He slid his arm around my waist, sending a tingle down my legs.
I let him draw me inside, then stopped mid-step. “Ohh,” I said, too speechless to describe what I was seeing. I’d been a little disappointed that my quarters were so far from the water, but this was absolutely exquisite. The home truly was a greenhouse—a giant tree stood in the center, at least four stories tall, its leaves fanning out like feathers, its trunk delightfully crooked and imperfect. Surrounding the base was a huge circular pad of dark soil enclosed by the concrete floor.
&nbs
p; But the tree. Incredible.
I crept up to it and reverently placed my palm against its rough, furrowed bark.
“A tree inside a glass dome,” Vance muttered. “Such a strange country.”
I raised onto the tips of my toes and managed to catch a small branch of leaves in my fingertips. I had expected hard plastic like NORA trees, but these leaves were as soft as they looked—like a baby’s pudgy cheeks or the brush of velvet against my skin. This was real. I’d seen real trees before in the mountains on EPIC missions, but it was too dark to enjoy them. But now, half a world away, I could examine one all I wanted.
“A tree’s not a bad roommate, actually,” I said. “Always listens, never stays out late. Never steals your food pills.”
Vance chuckled, seeming more at ease now that we were alone. This was a massive living space, brightly lit and warmed with sunlight. A large kitchen was tucked back against the far wall—if the massive dome shape could be called a wall. One section was partitioned off as a bedroom, the door propped open.
I peeked inside to find a bed and nightstand, all very modern and clean. The entire side wall was a screen with a giant digital clock that read 17:22. The washroom sat to the left. I peeked in and looked around in confusion. What kind of washroom needed three different kinds of toilets? A long wooden brush wrapped in plastic hung from the bathtub. For brushing hair while bathing? Strange.
“You can unpack or rest if you want,” Vance said when I came back out. “I’m going to check out the building and patrol the grounds.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You’re the ambassador, remember? We’re here to take care of you, not the other way around. Just rest. I’ll be back when I know this place is safe.” He kissed my forehead, letting his lips linger a moment longer than necessary, then stepped out. The door whooshed closed behind him.
All-expense paid vacation, indeed. Vance was taking his paranoia to a new level.
I sat on the bed and sank nearly halfway to the floor it was so soft. With a little gasp and a grin of delight, I threw myself into the blankets and felt myself sinking hopelessly into the slumber I’d been so determined to fight.
I should have slept after Treena settled in. Everyone was tired, as our bodies were hours behind. But the strangeness of this place combined with Ju-Long’s warning wouldn’t let me relax. I retrieved an electronic ring from my pocket and examined it. White plastic, and multicolored on the inside where it touched the skin. Treena had given one to each of us on the aircraft, explaining what she knew of England’s currency system. Apparently each of us had an allowance of sorts, paid for entirely by Bike Boy himself.
“You can have mine,” she had said with a grin. “I don’t exactly plan to shop for souvenirs.”
I decided to take a walk. Maybe there was a store with supplies nearby. My leap onto the airship before the hatch closed seemed stupid now that I had no luggage and no extra clothes.
The dome the others and I had been relegated to was obviously an aftermarket addition. The inside of the building felt older and smelled musty. Few furnishings graced the hallways, and the guards’ quarters bore little more than bunk beds, a bathroom, and a large commercial-style kitchen. While Treena’s meals were brought to her, we’d been left to fend for ourselves.
The lower portion of the city where our accommodations were located was much less colorful but more comfortable and dirty in a well-used way. Pedestrians made their way along sidewalks, some biking and others riding in wheeled transports similar to NORA’s. They kept their gazes fixed on the ground, avoiding eye contact. None of them looked upward at the levels of air traffic or huge colorful skyscrapers above.
I found a store just four streets away. The doors parted to allow me entrance. I stepped inside to find dozens of neat rows, all stacked with boxes and bags of colorful merchandise.
A woman standing near the entrance with a bright-red uniform eyed my clothes with distaste. “Your account number, sir?”
“Pardon?”
“To which account will you be charging your purchase? Our door scanners didn’t sense an optical identifier, so you must be from abroad.” Her voice raised at the end like a question, but I could see the disdain in her expression. Apparently higher-class citizens of Liverpool didn’t shop in dirty black T-shirts.
I decided to humor her and pulled out the ring, holding it up for inspection.
Her eyes widened, and she wiped away her judgmental frown. “Oh. A balance ring. I—I haven’t seen those in years. Do you know the amount you’ve been approved for?”
“No idea. Why don’t you scan it and tell me?”
“I’d be happy to.” She took it with shaking fingers and went to a tall glass desk near the front. A moment later she looked up, her expression completely changed. Her smile was as wide as her face. “It appears you have no limit, sir. What can I help you find?”
Some things were universal. “I’ll let you know if I need help.” My attention was immediately captured by an aisle full of clear containers. I made my way over and froze midstep. Water.
Dozens of containers of pure, clean, precious water. No, hundreds. All stacked one atop the other, all lined up and waiting for purchase. It was so clear I could barely tell the containers held anything but air.
I stroked one of the containers. Slightly cool to the touch. I could almost taste it—clean with a slightly metallic taste. Far better than NORA’s overtreated water packets or the settlement’s silt. As strange as this city’s air traffic and glass domes were, the fact that these people had no limit on how much water they could consume bent my mind in several directions.
If only I could bring this entire aisle back with me. And the containers looked reusable, which meant we could treat the water we had left and store it in the caverns. Maybe some canned goods and medicines too. That would definitely give us more time to get situated for the winter. And if Bike Boy would pay for it, all the better.
But not yet. I had to figure out the details first. And I had to find a store with actual clothes.
“Never mind,” I told the clerk, who stood wide-eyed and blinking rapidly in the corner. Probably having one of those eye conversations, telling the world about the strange black-clad foreigner who’d shown up at her store with unlimited credit. I threw her a wave. “I’ll be back another day.”
That night I read in Peak’s diary some more. He’d gone to a small town in the desert with his parents, but the fact that his sister had stayed behind seemed to bother him.
“I think we should go back and get Ally,” I said to fill the silence. “Maybe check things out at home, see if everything’s okay.”
They tensed up and looked at each other. Finally Mom shook her head. “We can’t go back, Rich. Not anytime soon.”
“Why not?” I pressed. “I don’t get why everyone’s so freaked out. None of us are government workers. We’re not affected—”
“Look, Rich,” Dad cut in. “Do you think this is some kind of vacation? Do you really think we’d drag you away from school for no reason? They’re taking out our leaders. If my information is correct, law enforcement is next. Then it will be the military. Once our protections are gone, it’ll be every man for himself. We’re safer here.”
I scoffed. “Do you know how many government workers there are in this country? And there are probably half a million cops alone. No way can they target everyone.”
“They don’t have to,” Mom said. “Not if they can persuade us to do it for them. These people understand human psychology, Rich. Target a few leaders, make it look like an inside job, and suddenly you can’t trust anyone. Every person you meet could be the enemy. Imagine that on a national scale.”
I must have looked skeptical, because Dad sighed and turned to me. “It’s already begun. People are rioting and looting in the larger cities and killing any cops who dare try to stop them. The terrorists set the events in motion, but it’s American citizens who are pushing things along.”
�
�Looting and rioting?” I hadn’t heard any of this. “That’s happening in L.A. too?”
“LA,” Mom said, “and San Francisco, Atlanta, Portland, Boston, Chicago, Dallas. Pretty much every major city. There have been riots sparked by high-profile murders in Victoria, Toronto, and Mexico City, too, although we aren’t sure those are related. It’s like the entire continent’s preparing for war.”
I examined myself in the mirror. The Nations for Peace official introductions would begin in an hour, and this was my third hairstyle of the morning—a tight, curly ponytail. So far everything I did made my face look round and young and scared. I didn’t need the world’s leaders being reminded of how young I was. I wanted them to see me as a young but capable leader of a struggling country.
The ponytail didn’t help. I looked twelve years old.
With a sigh, I tore the hairband out, feeling it catch painfully but too frustrated to care. My hair fell out and cascaded onto my shoulders.
“That’s perfect,” Vance said. “Leave it just like that.” He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. His hair was casually parted and slicked to one side, and his dark eyes seemed to smolder as he watched me. My heart skipped a beat.
“You look nice,” I told him as I turned to face him. Vance had managed to find a dark-blue shirt and black slacks somewhere, and they fit him well. The collared shirt pulled against his broad shoulders, nicely accentuating his athletic form.
The fabric also hid a scar, I knew. An assassin had tried to shoot him while his clan slept. Vance should have died then—he was cornered, caged. Alone. I ached, knowing he’d been so helpless while I blissfully explored the tunnels of an underground settlement hundreds of kilometers away.
