by Nick James
Consuming no more space than a fortune teller’s crystal ball, it rested comfortably in the palm of his hand. Beneath its surface pulsed a raging, chaotic hurricane of energy-strands of light constantly in motion. He could stare at it for hours if she let him, but he placed it into her eager hands instead.
Her expression remained still as she laid both hands on the Pearl, examining it. But Cassius recognized the familiar glow in her eyes. She hungered for it, just as he did.
After a moment of silent admiration, Madame’s gaze wandered back in his direction. “This is quite a surprise, Cassius. We haven’t authorized you for Pearl exploration. You went outside of the city to get this, didn’t you?”
He clasped his hands together behind his back. There wasn’t any sense in lying. “I got bored. I took a tracer with me and it picked up an energy trail outside of Syracuse.”
“A Fringe Town.” She cradled the Pearl in her arms. “I see.” She sighed. “Now, I know the teachers go on and on about your progress but that doesn’t mean I like the idea of you going out there on your own. It’s dangerous, especially wearing a government uniform. You know how they feel about us on the outside.”
“I was ready.”
“You keep this up and you’re going to make my department look bad. How could we have missed a Pearl falling right under our noses?”
“I… uh… I don’t think it fell in Syracuse,” he responded. “It was transported.”
“Ah.” She leaned back in her chair. “Skyship agents?”
“Not exactly. They were kids.”
“Kids?”
“Teenagers. It was an exchange, I think. With Fringers.”
“Kids.” She shook her head. “Skyship’s audacity never ceases to amaze me. It’s bad enough that we’ve got adults crossing the Skyline without clearance, but children? Can you imagine being asked to do such a thing, Cassius?”
He bristled at her words, being called a child. He wasn’t. Not compared to the morons he trained with.
Madame drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk, then stopped suddenly. “How many?”
“Three.” He met her eyes. “Pathetic, though. I mean, it was embarrassing.”
“I’d expect as much. They undoubtedly haven’t benefited from the intensive field experience that we have. You know, when we first passed the Skyship legislation to ease the population, we never dreamed it would be used against us like this. This is how it starts, Cassius.”
“How what starts?”
“War,” she said. “It’s a trickle, at first. Small, seemingly unconnected moments. You hardly even notice them. Then there’s a warning sign, like the terrorist attacks on New York City at the turn of the century. Ignore that and… well, look where we are now.” She frowned. “I was never a fan of the Hernandez Treaty. We gave them too much power.”
A moment of uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Cassius tried to think of a clever response, a way to engage in intelligent political discourse.
Madame didn’t give him the chance. “I spoke to the President earlier today. Seems Representative Fifty-Four had to jet across the Atlantic for an emergency meeting with the remnants of the Commonwealth. So, the timetable’s made its rounds and it looks like it’s my turn to speak with the Tribunal. I think I’d like you to accompany me.”
“Go up to Skyship?”
“To Skyship Atlas, yes. It’s simply procedural-collect their activity reports, sign some papers. Dull, monotonous details. I’m required to bring two others with me. My bodyguard will be joining us, of course, but I’d like to offer you the second spot.”
Cassius tried to contain his smile. He’d never been invited to participate in important government meetings before, especially ones off-Surface. “Why me?”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’d like to give them something to think about.”
Cassius shifted uneasily, unsure of what she meant.
“But we’ll save that discussion for tomorrow.” She cleared her throat. “The meeting’s not until Thursday. Now, back to the matter at hand. It won’t happen again, will it? Going outside of the Net without clearance, I mean.”
He shook his head, though he knew he couldn’t promise it. Being cooped up inside the Lodge all day was so boring.
“Good.” Madame’s attention returned to the Pearl. “Though I can’t argue with your results.” Her fingers danced along the top, mirroring the weaving energy inside. “Marvelous little baubles, aren’t they? To think that we ever lived without them. I still remember that first winter after the bombings. Seventy-six degrees in the middle of December. In Boston, no less.” She chuckled. “People thought it was great. Impromptu vacations. Christmas at the beach. That was before the insects started multiplying and crops began to die. I wish you could have seen it, Cassius, the way it was. Real snow, not that nonsense the Weathermen program into the Bio-Nets. Just pure white, stretching out as far as the eye could see.”
Cassius strained to imagine it. The only large-scale weather event he’d ever experienced was the arid, dusty wind of the Fringes.
Madame smiled. “You know, I’ve never been a very religious person, but every time I hold one of these in my hands I feel like we’re not alone in this universe.”
Cassius chuckled nervously. Despite growing up with her, he still found himself tongue-tied around Madame. Mostly he just let her do the talking.
“I’ll have someone put it into stasis right away,” she continued. “I look forward to our trip up to Atlas. It’ll give us some time to catch up. It feels like I’ve hardly seen you these past few weeks.”
“You’ve been busy.”
She nodded. “True, but that’s a lazy excuse, isn’t it? This is an important time in your life. I’d regret missing too much of it.”
Cassius was about to respond when a powerful wave of heat rushed through his chest, like someone had lit a fuse and buried it deep inside his body. The room fractured and spun, a kaleidoscope of carpet patterns, bookshelves, and Pearl energy. He staggered sideways, nearly toppling over onto the floor before catching himself and straightening his posture.
Madame stood immediately, revealing a slim figure covered with a fitted blouse tucked into dark trousers. “Cassius, are you all right?”
He rubbed his head. “Yeah, I just got a little dizzy there for a second.”
“You’ve been outside the Net for too long,” she spoke with a tremor of concern. “You should go lie down.”
“Maybe.” His heart pounded at double time as his chest continued to burn. He cleared his throat, making sure to conceal his discomfort in front of Madame.
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure nothing happened to you back in Syracuse?”
His mind raced back to the rooftop-separating from the Skyship boy, thrown across the ground. “Yeah,” he lied, careful not to stumble on his words. “I’m fine.”
She frowned, unconvinced. “All right. We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest and a glass of water. And please call the infirmary if you feel ill.”
He nodded and turned to leave the room, desperate to get out before he did something stupid and embarrassed himself in front of her.
“And Cassius?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I’m very proud of you.”
Her words comforted him as he staggered out the door, gripping his burning chest. He continued down the hallway, each step echoed by a thudding pain inside of him. Heat. Everywhere. So hot.
The hallway weaved into diagonals. He stumbled into the wall twice before making it to the dormitories. Panic consumed his thoughts. Cassius wasn’t use to panic, and that was the worst of all. Something was wrong inside of him. He knew it immediately, at a gut level. This wasn’t a simple stomach pain. It wasn’t the Fringe heat, or the chemicals.
He yanked open the door to his room, slamming it behind him and slumping face down on his perfectly made bed. He’d always been healthy. Rarely sick, he healed from injuries faster than m
ost of his peers. But he hadn’t even been injured. Scuffed up a little maybe in Syracuse, but nothing serious.
A sharp pain stabbed below his heart and prickled to his feet. Each moment that followed was an exclamation point on an already panicked state of shock. He’d heard of people having heart attacks, dropping dead minutes after they felt pain, but a fifteen-year-old? There’s no way.
Desperate for water, he carefully lifted himself off the bed and stumbled toward the bathroom.
A jolt up his spine stopped him in his tracks, sending him crashing to his knees. His organs sizzled, as if his insides had started leaking poisonous acid into his body. He bit his lip to keep the scream stuck inside.
Then, just as unexpectedly as it had arrived, the pain disappeared.
Cassius ran his hand over his forehead, breathing hard. Sweat dripped from his chin to the floor. He tore off his jacket and threw it toward the bed, untucking his shirt and loosening the top buttons.
Pulling himself off the ground, he struggled to a standing position and sat on the edge of his bed. His legs wobbled. He’d just been through war.
But it wasn’t over yet.
The pain returned, nearly knocking him from the bed. This time he felt fire-flames consuming him from inside out.
This time, he screamed.
The fire burst through his skin. Like a human bomb, he exploded. Torrents of flame shot around the bedroom, engulfing every corner. His clothing seared into ashes and fluttered from his body.
It took seconds.
Seconds, and the once spotless room was a charred shell. The flames began to eat through the walls, threatening neighboring quarters. His skin remained pale, his body intact. The fire spread. The warmth inside him diluted. The pain disappeared.
Cassius slumped off the edge of the skeletal bed frame and onto the floor. Face down. Unconscious. Flames danced all around him.
4
As our shuttle bursts into Earth’s stratosphere, I dream about Pearls. I dream there’s this giant robed guy lounging around on an asteroid somewhere chucking them down at me, one after another. I stand on the Surface, watching them burn through my body as they hit, leaving swiss-cheese holes until I’m hung together by nothing more than gooey threads.
“We’ve hit 30,000 feet.” Eva’s call knocks me out of my frustratingly short nap. I pry my eyes open and look out the side window. The vast outline of Skyship Polaris blots out most of the evening sky, just out of reach-a floating, metallic castle. A string of drool hangs from the side of my mouth. Charming.
We passed the Skyline hours ago, back on the East Coast. Ever since then I’ve been able to relax a little and get some shuteye. I’ve heard stories about Shippers getting shot for landing on the Surface without credentials. We were lucky not to run into border patrol, though I guess it’s kind of hard to police every square inch of the Skyline.
Skyship Academy, a dinky, self-contained ship compared to some of the bigger models, hovers above the California-Oregon border, give or take a few miles. Puttering back all the way from New York, we’ve been cooped up in this shuttle for going on two hours. Stir crazy. I told Mr. Wilson that it was a mass stupid idea sending us all the way out to the East Coast, but he kept saying that the “opportunity was too good to pass up” (a.k.a., “we’re gonna give you losers the safest possible city with the safest possible Pearl Traders so you don’t get yourselves killed”).
Yeah. That went well.
Eva flips a switch on the ceiling. “I’m stabilizing and setting the auto-pilot.”
“Go for it,” Skandar answers half-heartedly. Eva’s always been one for protocol, though she knows she doesn’t need our advice. She’s the best pilot in Year Nine. I don’t even have my learner wings yet.
Skandar unfastens his belt and moves across the shuttle, sitting backward on the seat nearest to me, face pressed against the window. “Polaris.” He grins. “I heard they’ve got this hotel… and there are these women, right? You walk in and they’ll do-”
“Please.” Eva groans. “Please stop.”
He makes a face out the window, though it’s meant for her.
My eyes follow the enormous ship as we pass by. The neon towers stretching up from the top level create an unnatural glow in the atmosphere. The hull is dark and wide-wedge-shaped, with space for thousands of tiny little rooms and corridors. The more money you’ve got, the higher you get to live. Nobody wants to try and sleep next to the thrusters on the bottom level. That’s why it’s reserved for docking bays. But Polaris isn’t much of a “settling down” ship, anyway. Not if you want peace and quiet. “We flew over there a couple years ago, right? For the opera?”
Skandar rolls his eyes. “Ugh. The most boring night of my life. I’m telling you, mate. Someday we need to highjack a shuttle and sneak onto Polaris. Head up to the casinos. That’s where the real action is.”
Somehow I can’t imagine that happening. After today’s little adventure, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Wilson kept us locked up in the Academy until we all turned eighteen.
Skandar’s com-pad flashes at his side. He detaches it from his belt, reading the line of text on the shiny black surface. Rolling his eyes, he tosses it to me. “Romeo’s been buzzed.”
I fumble with the device, glancing down at the words on the screen. Jesse, why are you ignoring me? Are you all right? – Avery
Eva shifts in her seat, peering at the rearview mirror. “Is it Avery again?”
Skandar nods. “You mean Fisher’s girlfriend?”
I flip down the keypad, typing. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Not if you keep denying it,” Skandar replies.
“I don’t care who she is,” Eva huffs. “Academy CPs are not meant for socializing. How she’s managed to hack her way into our channel I’ll never know.”
“She’s good at that kind of stuff,” I mutter, pressing the send button. Not ignoring you. Lost my CP, but I’m ok. – Jesse
Seconds later, another message appears on the screen. Just wanted to congratulate you on your first mission. Dinner tonight? – Avery
My heart swells as I reread the words. With all the negativity floating around this afternoon, the prospect of dinner with Avery Wicksen is more than enough reward for me. Ever since she was transferred from the Academy on Skyship Mira three years ago, she’s been the calm oasis after increasingly embarrassing mishaps-the only one I can really talk to. I quickly type a nonchalant “yeah” into the com-pad and send it.
Eva frowns. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t tell Mr. Wilson about you two abusing the CPs.”
I toss it back to Skandar. “Um… your kind and generous nature?”
She snorts with laughter.
“Come on, Eva.” Skandar attaches the com-pad to his belt. “Have a heart. Fisher’s gotta work on his game.” He slaps my shoulder. “So what’d you tell her?” He purses his lips, adopting a ridiculous deep voice. “ Hey, baby, come to my room so we can get it on.”
Eva rolls her eyes. “Real subtle, Harris.”
I shrug. “I pretty much just said ‘yeah.’”
He rolls his eyes, leaning back. “Well, that’s lame.”
Our shuttle continues to zip along the thin layer of cirrus clouds beneath us. Soon Polaris is nothing more than a dot in the distance. Creeping up next on the radar is the Horizon College of Liberal Arts. We call it Skyship Academy.
And we don’t study liberal arts. The school’s a front to keep the Unified Party off our backs. Under the Hernandez Treaty, Surface representatives can inspect any part of the Skyship Community with a warrant and “documented suspicion of duplicitous activity,” which can basically be turned around to mean just about anything. Places like hospitals, churches, and schools are exempt. Safe havens. So in all its infinite wisdom, the Tribunal runs all its secret Pearl-snatching operations through a handful of “schools.” Lucky us.
We file activity reports, but nobody in the Skyship Community knows what we’re really getting up to: secret r
econnaissance missions, Fringe-trading, anything that helps us grab Pearls before the Unified Party finds them. Read the e-feed and you’d think the Skyships are stable, with enough Pearl Power to last as long as we need. The truth is, we’re one dry year away from having to sacrifice a good chunk of our ships. But the Tribunal would never admit it to the community.
Eva unfastens her belt and joins us in the passenger cabin. “Visitation Day on Friday.”
Skandar drags his hand across his face. “I hate wearing suits.”
“It’s only for a few hours. We have to look like any other school and that includes giving tours. Right, Jesse?”
“I’m with Skandar on this one.”
Every semester on Visitation Day, hopeful students follow our teachers around all wide-eyed and grinning, mass eager to learn about philosophy and literature and heaps of other stuff that we don’t actually teach. None of them ever make it through our “selective” admissions department. Skyship Academy’s only new recruits are agents’ kids or transfers from other training facilities. Count me among the former, though I can’t really remember my parents. They died when I was two, part of a government sting operation. In other words, they died heroes. Kinda sets expectations for their only kid.
“Well,” Eva continues, “I don’t think it hurts for us to remind ourselves that we’re going to be agents soon. It’s not bad to look professional every once in a while.”
Skandar grimaces. “What, are you like forty years old?”
“I’m just saying… a little bit of maturity goes a long way.”
I frown. “Tell that to Mr. Wilson when he flunks me out of the program.”
She leans forward and lays her hand on my knee. It’s mildly creepy. “That’s not going to happen, Jesse. You’ve got three and a half more years. The only way to go is up.”
Skandar chuckles. Eva shoots him a look that silences him instantly. “ You on the other hand… everything’s a joke to you, isn’t it?”
He shrugs. Eva’s face bristles. I can tell she’s about to slap him so I half-heartedly point out the window. “Looks like we’re home.”
