by Brandon Mull
As soon as he walked off, Jace turned to Dalton. “I’m thirsty, slave boy,” he said. “Fetch me a drink.”
Dalton scowled.
“Don’t make a scene, Kevin,” Jace warned. “We all have to do our part.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Dalton said.
“I’m not royalty,” Jace explained. “Master will do.”
“Knock it off,” Cole said. “It isn’t his fault he wasn’t around when Declan changed our bondmarks to freemarks.”
“Wasn’t my fault I had a bondmark to begin with,” Jace countered. “If our slave just stands around all the time and never serves us, how realistic does that look? It’s safer for him and for us if he plays the part.”
Cole could tell Jace enjoyed bossing Dalton around, and he was probably getting in some retaliation for the hidden saddle, but it was hard to argue against his point. They wanted to blend in.
“It’s okay,” Dalton said. “Do you want a drink, Mira? Cole?”
“Sure,” Mira said. “Thanks.”
“Won’t that be a lot to carry?” Cole asked.
“I’ll manage,” Dalton said.
“Don’t forget to hold any doors open for us,” Jace said. “Be the first to stand, the last to sit. Treat us like masters. Work to keep us comfortable. Anticipate our needs. And try not to jump into any conversations free people are having.”
“Aren’t you getting carried away?” Cole said.
“I was a slave for a long time,” Jace said. “Believe me, I know how they’re supposed to behave.”
“Thanks, master,” Dalton said with some sarcasm. He walked away.
“How is he supposed to find drinks?” Cole wondered. “He doesn’t have any money.”
“A good slave would figure it out,” Jace said.
“I understand playing our roles,” Mira said. “But, Jace, you don’t have to enjoy it so much.”
Jace chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m just grateful to be free.”
“I’d think that would include some empathy for those still stuck as slaves,” Mira said.
“We’re just pretending he’s our slave,” Jace reminded her.
“But we’re not pretending he’s a slave,” Cole said. “He’s been a slave since he got here. His bondmark is real.”
“Sometimes you two are unbelievably boring,” Jace said, turning his back on them and shuffling a few steps away.
A few minutes later, Joe returned with Dalton behind him. Joe held a can of soda. Dalton carried four others. He handed one to Cole, another to Mira, and a third to Jace.
Cole inspected the orange can. The word “POW!” slanted across it in thick yellow letters. It had a pull tab just like the soda cans back home. Cole popped the top and took a sip. The bubbly liquid fizzed in his mouth and down his throat. It tasted sweet, the orange flavoring enhanced by a hint of vanilla.
“That’s not bad,” Cole said, licking his lips. “I haven’t had a soda since I came here.”
Jace squinted at the top of the can, first pressing the tab down, then picking at it. Mira held her soda unopened as well.
“Having trouble, master?” Dalton asked.
“I’m waiting for you to do your job,” Jace said.
Dalton held out a hand, accepted the can, and demonstrated how to use the tab to pop it open. He handed it back to Jace. After seeing the example, Mira popped her own can open. Dalton opened his as well.
“We have tickets?” Cole asked, taking another sip.
“We’re officially going to town,” Joe said. “The monorail leaves in about fifteen minutes. We should get aboard.”
“Will our swords be a problem?” Jace asked.
Joe held up his travel bag. “Both are in here. Primitive weapons like swords should be okay. They don’t really screen for weapons here. Not like on flights back home.”
Joe led them to a line waiting to pass through a door in a high crystal wall. A pair of patrolmen flanked the door, one checking IDs and tickets, the other watching the line. They wore gray-and-black uniforms with padding over the chest and on their limbs. Dangling from their shoulders by a strap, each man had a tubular weapon that looked like a miniature rocket launcher.
The line moved steadily. Cole shuffled forward beside Joe.
“What are those weapons?” Cole murmured. “Little bazookas?”
“No,” Joe said softly. “Those are trapguns. Most of the weapons used by patrolmen stun or entrap. You’ll get gummed up by quicktar, or stuck to webby nets. Nonlethal, but very effective. There isn’t usually much violence in Zeropolis. Crime happens quietly here.”
Joe stopped talking as they drew near to the door. Cole clutched his ticket and his ID card. He thought about how he would hand over the ticket and ID card if he wasn’t a wanted fugitive. He decided to act calm and polite, maybe a little distracted.
Joe held out his card. The patrolman scanned it with a device, glanced at his ticket, then waved him along.
Upon reaching the patrolman, Cole fretted about making too much eye contact. Or too little. The patrolman took Cole’s card and scanned it, then waved him through. Cole didn’t look back to watch the other kids, but soon they were all together beyond the crystal wall.
Up ahead, three elevators shuttled people up to the level of the track. Elaborate compartments of crystal and bronze, the elevators were not hidden within a shaft. Each had an operator and could fit roughly ten passengers.
“They look kind of old-fashioned,” Dalton observed, beside Cole.
“They’re fast though,” Cole replied. He noticed Jace watching the elevators climb and sink. He looked both excited and a little uncertain. “Ever ridden in an elevator, Jace?”
“Nope,” Jace said.
“Me neither,” Mira added.
“They call them senders here,” Joe mentioned. “Like ‘ascend’ and ‘descend.’”
After a short wait, Cole and his four companions entered a sender with a few other people. The operator raised a lever, and the compartment surged briskly upward.
When Cole exited the sender, the monorail came into full view. Long and sleek, the streamlined train was composed of silvery metal and crystal tinted such a dark blue that Cole could only barely see the forms moving inside.
“Bonded crystal?” Cole asked.
“Very good,” Joe said. “They use it a lot here. Those elevators were made of bonded crystal and some sturdy alloy. Maybe renium. The crystal for the monorail is grade two, tougher than steel. The train moves fast—over three hundred miles per hour.”
Cole and the others joined the crowd making for one of the many doors of the long train. More patrolmen stood on the platform, trapguns dangling within easy reach. A conductor at the door to the monorail quickly checked tickets as people entered. Cole boarded after Joe, flashing his ticket to the conductor, then following Joe down the central aisle of the train.
From inside the monorail, the tinted glass didn’t look nearly so dark, though everything outside had bluish tones. People were settling into the cushioned seats at either side of the aisle. Much as when he had walked into the station, Cole felt a sense of home. This monorail was too modern to fit his experiences in the Outskirts. It was too much like boarding the light rail in Phoenix or getting on a plane.
Joe led them down the aisle to the end of the car, through a set of doors, and along another aisle until the seats gave way to private compartments on either side, each with its own door. Checking his ticket, Joe opened the door of a compartment where two cushioned benches faced each other. The far wall was all window.
“Our own room?” Cole asked.
“We’re not poor,” Joe said. “I thought a little privacy would be nice.”
Joe and Dalton sat on one side, leaving Cole, Mira, and Jace on the other. With the door shut, they could almost be al
one on the train—only the faintest noise of other passengers moving around or conversing reached them.
Looking out the window at the platform, Cole watched other passengers approaching the monorail. The crowd thinned until only a few patrolmen remained.
A soothing female voice came from a speaker in the ceiling. “Now departing Outpost 121. Next stop, Outpost 45. Please keep your tickets handy and enjoy the ride.”
The monorail began to slide forward, starting off so gently that it was difficult for Cole to determine when the motion began. Smoothly and steadily they picked up speed. They left the station behind, and the low buildings of the outpost blurred beneath them. Cole leaned his head against the window to enjoy the foreground streaming past.
The monorail reached terrific speed, but inside their compartment Cole could feel no motion. When he closed his eyes, they could have been standing still.
“Are we even moving?” Cole asked. “It’s almost like the outside scenery is fake!”
“The monorail is well designed,” Joe said. “It floats on a magnetic cushion and is extremely aerodynamic.”
“I’ve never imagined anything like this,” Jace asked. “I can’t believe the speed!”
“When do we get off?” Dalton wondered.
“Sixth stop from now,” Joe said. “Hanover Station. We’ll stop at two other outposts, then pass a few stations in the city.”
“How long?” Dalton asked.
“We have to go more than a thousand miles,” Joe said. “Including the stops, we should arrive in just over four hours.”
Cole gave a low whistle. That was fast!
“Do you know how to find the Unseen?” Mira asked.
“I’ve been gone for a while,” Joe said. “They change location a lot to stay ahead of the patrolmen. We’ll hit a gaming hub called Axis. Cole or Dalton would call it an arcade. Some of the CKs should be there. The Crystal Keepers. They’re a gang of gamers who help out the Unseen. They’ll know how to help us get in touch with the leadership.”
“Think we can find a thruport?” Cole asked.
“Probably, once we reach the Unseen,” Joe said. “We’ll get their help in finding Constance and ask about your slave friends.”
“And I’m going to find out about Headgear,” Jace said. “I want a hat like that robot guy had.”
Joe snapped his fingers. “Whoops, I meant to put some money on your ID cards. We’ll have to do that once we get to the city.”
Somebody tapped on the door. Joe opened it to reveal a conductor. “Tickets, please,” the man said.
They handed over their tickets. The man passed a handheld scanner over them, then returned them. “Thanks for riding the monorail,” he said, tipping his hat. Then he backed into the hall and closed the door.
Cole leaned back on his bench. It was comfortable, the cushions a nice blend of soft but firm. He hadn’t slept well the night before. He had been excited to see the city, and he had kept thinking about his parents not missing him.
Cole was in the corner by the window, so he leaned his head against the glass. In that position, he could feel the slightest hint of vibration against his skull. It was kind of soothing.
His thoughts turned to Jenna. Where was she now? Was she comfortable? Scared? Was she expecting a rescue? Was she trying to free herself? What if she had made a successful escape? Could she be on the run too?
Hopefully there would be answers in a few hours after he reached the city and the Unseen. What if they traced her ID card and instantly found her? What if he would see her later today? Or tomorrow? The hope seemed too greedy, but he knew it was possible. She had to be somewhere.
Gazing far out the window toward the horizon, Cole lost the sense of their speed. But when he glanced down at the nearby prairie streaking by beneath them, his appreciation was reawakened.
Feeling drowsy, Cole experimented with shutting his eyes. When he woke up, he found that the monorail was inside a station. Jerking away from the window, Cole saw the others eating sandwiches.
“I wondered when you’d join us,” Dalton said around a mouthful. “This is the first stop in the city.”
“We got you food,” Mira said, handing Cole a wrapped sandwich.
“How much longer?” Cole asked.
“The monorail doesn’t go as fast inside the city,” Joe said. “About half an hour.”
Cole unwrapped his sandwich and started working on it. The bread was a little stale, and the cuts of chicken inside it a little dry, but the tangy sauce was good, and he was hungry.
As the monorail slid out of the station, Cole watched eagerly out the window for his first view of the city. What he saw delighted him.
He had expected nonstop buildings. And yes, there were some serious clusters of skyscrapers spaced about, tall and elegant, mostly made of metal and crystal. But there were also open areas. Big parks and lakes. Neighborhoods with yards. Mansions with grounds. Huge, low buildings topped with gardens.
Even from the vantage of the elevated track, the city stretched as far as he could see, which led Cole to suppose it might continue well beyond what lay before him. Vehicles zoomed along the dark roads crisscrossing the city. Were they cars? He couldn’t see tires. Were they hovering? They all shared a similar design, though the colors varied. It was hard to discern all the details from up high, moving quickly.
“Next stop, Canal Station,” announced the soothing female voice from the speaker in the ceiling. “Please remain in your seats when we stop while the City Patrol arrests a suspect. The all clear will be announced once the suspect is in custody. Walt Boone, please submit quietly.”
CHAPTER
7
WELCOMING COMMITTEE
Joe immediately tried the door to the compartment. It was locked. He jiggled the handle roughly, but it only moved a little, and the door had no give.
The compartment was silent as Joe slid back into his seat. He looked ill, his face oddly blank. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. Okay.”
Cole banged the side of his fist against the window. It made no sound. The vault door at a bank might have shown a similar indifference to a punch.
“We’re not getting out through the window,” Cole said, hoping to jump-start Joe.
“No,” Joe agreed. “It would take serious tools.” His eyes darted, but Cole wasn’t sure he was seeing much. “They must have flagged my ID after all, but let me board. That kind of patience isn’t how City Patrol normally works. I should have gone with my gut. The woman at the ID counter seemed a little flustered at first. We’ve made one stop in the city so far. I bet a bunch of patrolmen got on. Now they’re taking me off.”
“What can we do?” Mira asked.
Joe clutched the sides of his head. “A private compartment was a terrible idea. We’re stuck here until they come for us.”
The monorail began to slow.
“I should have spaced us throughout the train,” Joe lamented. “We should have sat near exits.”
“Would have, could have, should have,” Jace said impatiently. “What do we do?”
Out the window, the view of the city was replaced by the inside of a building. Signs on the wall declared it CANAL STATION. People milled on the platform. The monorail slowed even more.
Cole’s mind raced. What could they do? They had no time! They were trapped!
“We let the welcoming committee take us,” Joe said hurriedly. “They’ll be ready for trouble. It’s the wrong time to resist. I’ll comply. They’ll focus on me. Come quietly, but move slowly. Stray as far from me as you can. After we’re off the monorail, I’ll make a run for it. Scatter. Don’t stay together. Don’t use your ID cards. They’re all tied to me now. Jace, keep my travel bag, if you can. All of you make your way to Axis. Leaf Street, near Hanover Station. Across from Zenith Park. Crystal Keepers.”
The monorail had
eased to a stop. The compartment door opened. Two heavily built patrolmen filled the doorway.
“What’s the problem?” Joe asked politely.
“Joe MacFarland, you’re under arrest,” one of the patrolmen said.
“May I ask the charges?” Joe asked.
The patrolman grunted. “Not now. Come with us.”
“I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong, but I’m all yours,” Joe said.
“The false ID is a start,” the patrolman said, glancing around the compartment. “Who are the kids?”
“Relatives of a friend,” Joe said.
“You’re the only adult present?” the patrolman asked.
“That’s right,” Joe said.
“We’ll have to bring all of you to HQ,” the patrolman said. “Step out into the hall. Joe first.” He backed away from the doorway, allowing room to exit.
After a quick glance at Cole and the others, Joe rose and passed into the hall. The patrolman who had been speaking leaned back into the compartment, all business. “You kids stay with us.”
“Why do we have to come?” Jace complained.
“Let’s cut the chitchat,” the patrolman said. “You’re with a wanted criminal. Hurry up.”
The patrolman backed out the door. Cole waited while Jace grabbed the travel bag and exited, then watched Mira and Dalton exit as well. What would it mean to go to HQ? It would get ugly fast if anybody figured out Mira’s identity. What if the Hunter caught wind of it?
Cole took his time leaving the compartment. They had to try to get away. Maybe by going slow, he could create some space for himself.
Out in the central aisle, Joe stood with his wrists bound in front of him and a patrolman on either side. With his wrists tied and so many patrolmen around, would he even get the chance to run and make a diversion?
Once Cole exited the compartment, the lead patrolman gave a nod, and the procession started down the aisle toward the exit. Cole only had one patrolman behind him, so he tried to dawdle, crouching to tie his shoe, but the patrolman stayed with him.
As he advanced up the aisle toward the exit, Cole wished for his power back. If he could energize the Jumping Swords and Jace’s golden rope, the odds of escape would immediately improve. But searching desperately inside, Cole perceived no trace of his power.
