Nick James - Skyship Academy

Avery leans against the door, breathing hard. “Left or right?”

“Left.” I bolt away, sprinting down the corridor as fast as my throbbing body will let me. I try to ignore the blood as it spills down my sleeve and drips onto the white flooring below, leaving a dark trail.

Our footsteps echo down the length of the hallway as the alarms fade behind us. We turn a corner. A glass exit comes into view.

We run faster until the glass door slides open and lets us out into the city. The temperature-controlled air hits me immediately, revitalizing my parched lungs. It’s so fresh I can almost taste it, and for a moment it dulls the pain. But only for a moment.

We arrive in a wide marble passageway between buildings. Decorative birch trees stand in small square plots of dirt placed evenly down the center of the street. People funnel around us, eyes shifting uneasily in our direction. A woman grabs her daughter’s hand and speeds up as she passes by. Avery and I huddle close together in the shade of the building.

“Where do we go?” I whisper.

She shakes her head. “They’re everywhere. We have to find a place to hide.”

I glance down the street and see four men in government uniforms hurry around the corner of the smashed-up residential building. They’re not running. Yet.

Avery notices them too, and grabs onto my good arm. “Come with me. Just walk.”

We cross the street halfway and dip behind a bunch of trees coiled in the center. To our right lies a narrow alleyway, burrowing between two lofty skyscrapers. We pause. I watch as a young man runs down the street and seizes the shoulder of the nearest policeman, whirling him around and pointing back at us. The officer cranes his neck in our direction, motioning for the others to follow him.

Avery swears silently. We count to three, then tear through the crowd of people beside us, fighting our way into the alley. It’s like swimming upstream. Mass difficult.

The cops start to shout. Everybody notices us now. Two teenagers try to play hero, grabbing the back of my jacket and yanking me into the crowd. I punch the closest guy in the side of the face, breaking free from his grip. Avery pushes another as she grasps my hand and pulls me through. We bust into the alley, dwarfed on all sides by walls that stretch up as far as I can see. A pair of dumpsters block our path halfway down. We grab onto the handles and climb up over them. The smell of garbage rises from beneath our feet.

Assisted by the crowd, the cops gain ground on us quickly. Before we’ve even cleared the dumpsters, they’re right behind us.

A gunshot rattles the entryway. Something sharp hits the back of my neck, clinging onto my skin. I reach back frantically and claw at the small device.

A second shot hits Avery square in the back. We stop in our tracks, struggling to pull at the devices. Once it’s clear that they’re not coming off, I jump down from the dumpster, desperate to get away from the police any way I can.

Moments later, the devices activate, propelling a shockwave of electricity through our bodies. At first all it does is stop us. But as the current increases, it forces us to the ground. My body convulses. Details black out around me. The walls close in. My arms lie limp on the pavement. And then it’s over.

Cassius landed the stolen sky taxi at Portland’s southern border, on the outskirts of the wide lot reserved for public shuttles. Switching off the power, he watched a small band of security personnel gather around the side of his ship, no doubt curious as to why a Skyship vehicle had made an unplanned, illegal landing.

He scooped up his bag from beside the captain’s seat, threw it over his shoulder, and flipped the controls to open the doorway. Hands in the air, he exited the craft and jumped down onto the granite pavement. All five security guards paused, waiting for something more than a fifteen-year-old to emerge from within. They kept their guns pointed straight at him.

“Relax.” Cassius reached up to his right hand, wincing as he tore off the skin graft and revealed his identification code. “I’m Unified Party.”

The men exchanged curious looks. The one nearest Cassius lowered his gun, removed a handheld scanner from his belt, and scanned Cassius’s wrist. The blue laser caught the inside of the ID socket and the guard nodded, turning to the others. “He’s telling the truth.”

Cassius sighed, pulling at the neck of his shirt. Even the residual effect from the nearby Bio-Net wasn’t enough to counter the sweltering heat.

The guards lowered their weapons. Another strode forward, hands on his hips. “Where did you find this ship?”

Cassius sighed, glancing over to the Bio-Net entrance. “Consider it a gift.”

Then, without waiting for any more questions, he turned and made his way toward the city, passing long rows of shuttles glistening in the hazy sunshine. When he was out of the guards’ sight, he flipped open his com-pad and entered Madame’s secret number.

It rang two times before she picked up. “Cassius.”

“I’ve landed outside Portland.”

“Fantastic,” she replied. “I’ve just had word of a crashed shuttle inside the city. That will be Fisher. No doubt the authorities have already captured him. I’d like you to head to the Security Center and find out where he’s being held. Make sure he is not transferred.”

“And what then?”

“I will rendezvous with you in Portland as soon as I can. Something has come up and I’m afraid I may be delayed. Don’t let Fisher out of the city, Cassius.”

“I won’t.”

“If he escapes, he’ll head to Seattle.”

He frowned. “Why would he head to Seattle? It’s deserted.”

“Trust me, Cassius. That’s where he’ll go. Don’t let it happen.”

“Okay,” he replied.

“Excellent,” she said. “I will be in touch.”

The line went dead.

He stared at the com-pad before clipping it back onto his belt. Something had come up, she’d said. From the urgency in her voice back in the infirmary, he had assumed this mission was priority number one. Not to mention the destruction he had caused in the Lodge. But after two frustratingly brief conversations, he began to wonder if he was being intentionally kept in the dark. He wasn’t in the habit of questioning the government, but questioning Madame was something different entirely.

As he approached Portland’s southern gate, he toyed with the idea of interrogating Fisher himself. If Madame was going to take her time, he might as well use the opportunity to his advantage. Maybe he could find out what had happened back on the rooftop. She wouldn’t even have to know.

Two government officials stood at the entrance gate in front of him, positioned between ground-level Bio-Net connectors. Whirring spheres of Pearl energy spun in the center of each, weaving the force field that rocketed up to the floating black crosses. He remembered the group of Fringers destroyed at the entrance to Rochester. A chill ran down his spine.

A large screen hung above the entrance, displaying temperatures both inside and outside the Net. Seventy-two versus one-hundred and sixteen. Cassius couldn’t wait to feel the difference after stepping inside.

The officials scanned Cassius’s wrist with a dark gray wand as he passed Portland’s entrance sign. He straightened his tie, making sure he looked presentable before preceding.

Nodding to the guards, he stepped up a gentle ramp and into the city. First stop, the Security Center. Then he’d find Fisher. And answers.

A woman grips my hand and leads me down a darkened hallway, dozens of closed metal doors on either side of us. One lies halfway open at the end. Beyond is a laboratory. I know this. I’ve been here before. Light bulbs string overhead, flickering on and off. We’re underground.