Nick James - The Pearl wars

“Cassius,” her cold voice filled the cockpit, “tell me where you are.”

He considered lying, but didn’t. “I’m in a sky taxi heading away from the Academy.”

“And Fisher? Is he with you?”

“Uh-no, Madame. He’s on another shuttle.” He paused. “I took down one of their teachers.”

The truth was, he hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t wanted to, but the old man had gotten in the way. Cassius had acted on instinct and pulled the trigger. Before he knew it, the guy was dead.

He gritted his teeth, waiting for Madame’s response. After an agonizing silence, her voice continued, steady as ever. “I appreciate your honesty, Cassius. I stationed two of my cruisers beneath the Academy in case something like this were to happen. They’ve driven Fisher’s shuttle to Portland, Oregon-a short distance from your coordinates. I’ve put a hold on the city’s defense canons. I’d like you to follow him. Contact me when you land. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“Yes, Madame.” He barely got the words out before she hung up. He stared at the blank screen. “Hello?”

He held it to his ear, wondering if he’d accidentally silenced it himself. She was gone. No “Good job” or “Did you run into any trouble on Polaris?” or anything. Not that he had expected warm congratulations, but she hadn’t even seemed to care.

He brushed the thought away, eager to land on the Surface.

Folding the CP and attaching it to his belt, he charted a course for Portland at double speed.

Avery yanks on the steering console to bring us level as we rush past a 200-plus story building. The hull of our shuttle scrapes the corner. Eventually we’re gonna make a wrong turn and head straight through an office building.

Chosen cities are built up, not out, giving us no air space to maneuver. Towers stretch like spires around us.

“Watch out for the sky bridge!” I point at a rapidly approaching overpass. The people inside notice us, freezing and pointing in terror as we hurtle toward them.

“I see it.” Avery swoops beneath the bridge just in time. It’s like some insane obstacle course out here.

Something beneath us pops and the shuttle vibrates. The yellow warning light continues to flash. Avery swats a button on the wall and the cockpit goes dark. “Sorry, but we need every drop of power we can get.”

“What are you planning to do?” I watch as the energy meter drops from nearly full to a red stump.

“Land in a pillow factory,” she replies through gritted teeth, right before flipping the shuttle sideways and darting through a narrow space between buildings. We take out a balcony railing as we plow through the air. It’s lucky no one was standing outside.

I jostle in my seat, still feeling like I’m gonna puke. Avery straightens the shuttle as we arrive over a wide plaza-the first bit of open air so far.

“Crank the emergency brakes,” she motions. “Blue switches to your right.”

“All three of them?”

She nods. “Quickly, Jesse.”

I reach over to the switches, pulling them down and listening as the backside of the shuttle opens up outside. We look like an airborne flower now, with metallic petals spread out behind us for air resistance.

Another building looms before us, its fiberglass siding quickly blotting out our view. Coiled tracks stretch out at different angles and elevations. Slick egg-like train carts dart along each, disappearing into the city. Chute Transport, no doubt. Under safer circumstances I might be impressed. Right now, it’s just a bigger-than-usual roadblock.

Avery takes a hard left, whirling between two pieces of track to keep us from smashing into the station. With no time to catch our breath, she pulls up to avoid hitting a rooftop park on the next street. I watch a group of children pause below us, pointing up from the pristine playground as we tear by. We probably look pretty flaunt to them.

But we can’t keep this up forever. Eventually we’re gonna hit the ground.

We pass safely through the next street before flying over a brick square, yards from smashing into the heads of the travelers beneath us. Water shoots up from a fountain below, smacking our underbelly and shoving the already frantic shuttle sideways.

There’s no use pretending we’re anonymous anymore. People run to move out of danger, falling to the ground seconds before we’d hit them. Others point. I hear muffled screams through the window. Sirens. They’re everywhere.

And then it happens.

We plow directly into the bottom floor of a residential building. Avery tries to change our course, but it’s not enough. The shuttle’s airbag punches me back into my seat.

We hit the side of the building with earthquake-sized force, driving right through the siding, through the windows, and into the nearest room. I can’t see anything beyond the expanded airbag, but I hear it all-the twisting of metal, shattered glass, and the screams of the crowd behind us.

We smash into the ground, then lift up again before landing with a tooth-chattering thud. My body jerks back, twisting awkwardly in the seat.

Our shuttle slows as its nose crumples up like an aluminum can. Windows blow out. Sideways raindrops of metal and plastic explode around us. I try to shield my face, but with all the scrap flying around, it’s useless. Some pieces whiz by, others lodge themselves in my skin. If it wasn’t for the mind-numbing pain, I’d be thinking about how much it’s going to hurt when these things get pulled out later.

Chaos spins around us for what seems like minutes. Then everything stops. The front end quits caving in and the air clears.

We sit-bloody and battered-for a few moments before either of us speaks.

Alarms blare around us, breaking me from my crash-induced trance. Though we’re both in horrible pain, we know we can’t stay here.

Avery stumbles to a standing position, staggering to the door and pulling it open. It detaches from the shuttle and crashes to the ground. I lift myself carefully from the copilot’s seat and grab onto her hand, shaking.

A shallow scratch runs the length of her cheek. Her arms are torn up, but she’s standing. I glance over to see a triangular piece of glass lodged through the arm of my jacket just below the shoulder. My body feels like it’s been put through five hours of torture.

I almost died.

The thought strikes me as we limp out the doorway, nearly tripping on the jagged metal. It wasn’t even because of some super-heroic mission. We were chased. We ran. We almost died.

I shake the idea from my head as we jump down onto the rubble-strewn carpet outside. A couch sits in two separate pieces beside the shuttle’s front window. Splinters of wood litter the ground-remnants of pulverized furniture. Food falls out of what’s left of a refrigerator in the corner. This was somebody’s home.

I search around for bodies. Thankfully, we’re alone.

Not so outside. A crowd of onlookers from the square converge behind our shuttle, drawn from all angles by the alarms. A few of the more reckless ones start to climb through the hole in the outside wall, probably hoping for some sort of citizen’s arrest. We’ve got no choice but to split.

I take off first, looping around the front of the shuttle and sprinting through a smaller hole that leads farther into the building. Avery follows, grabbing onto my shoulder. “Are you all right?” She leads me around a chair to the exit door.

“I’ll be fine,” I wheeze, though I really doubt it. Blood trickles down my arm from the glass shard. If I don’t stop to take care of it soon, I won’t be running long before I pass out.

Avery pulls open the door. I follow her into a narrow hallway, lit with artificial sunlight from flat ceiling panels above. Corridors stretch out on both sides of us-no clear exit in either direction.