It becomes obvious very quickly that I’ve chosen the wrong pipe. It’s so new and shiny, I can’t get any kind of grip on it. Before I know it, there’s a hand clamped around my right foot. I look down and see Selby’s lieutenant grinning up at me. Just behind him, Selby slowly shakes his head. He doesn’t need to worry any more. This time, he’s really got me.
I slide back down the pipe and he grabs me by the arm. He clearly isn’t in the mood to take any risks. His lieutenant clutches onto my other arm, and together they march me back to the van-copter.
Before we get there, I see Oscar, up on the opposite roof, darting around in search of those robo-rats. By now, they’re nowhere to be seen. Sadly, neither am I. Selby opens the back of the van-copter and rolls me onto the metal floor. He slams the door, and suddenly I’m lying there in total darkness. I can’t even hear what’s going on outside.
I sit there for five minutes, maybe, before the doors swing open again, and another of Selby’s lieutenants rolls Oscar in beside me.
“Oscar!” I yelp. “Are you okay?”
He nuzzles into my side. I can feel him nodding his head up and down.
“That’s a relief,” I say. “Now, how about some light in here?”
Oscar switches all of his display lights to maximum brightness, and the inside of the van lights up like a Christmas tree. We’re totally surrounded by cold, flat metal walls. From in here, there’s no sign of the door lock, or any other moving parts we might be able to tinker with.
We both know what big trouble we’re in. Now that Selby’s got us, he won’t be taking any chances. He’ll be taking us straight back to the Skyburb 7 Home for Unclaimed Urchins. I’ll be sent back to Urchin School, and Oscar ... I don’t even want to think about what they’ll do to him. At the very least, they’ll wipe his memory and reprogram him. Who knows, they might even keep him there as a worker-bot. If I pass him in the corridor, I’ll just be seeing the walking ghost of my best friend. It’s too awful to imagine.
“Oscar,” I say, “we have to get those doors open, before this thing leaves the ground.”
Oscar looks up at me and nods, slowly. I add up all our options, and come to a grand total of zero. Luckily, Oscar’s brain is working better than mine. He turns on one of his ear lights and shines a sharp, bright beam all around the van.
Then, like a four-legged woodpecker, he taps his nose against the door. It makes the same noise with each bump, until he hits the bottom left corner. This time, we hear a hollow, echoing sound.
Oscar spins around and looks at me with extrawide eyes. I can’t get as excited about the noise as he seems to be, but I guess it’s a start. He sniffs and scratches at the spot, and I slide over and tap it with my knuckles. There’s definitely some kind of empty space inside the door.
Oscar slides open the panel on his back, and a thin metal arm pops out. At the top end of it, there’s a four-fingered claw, holding onto a tiny spinning razor blade. He pushes the blade against the metal of the door.
As the blade cuts into the metal, sparks fly around us like fireworks. Before I know it, he’s cut a perfect square hole into the back of the door. He pulls the arm back into his control panel and sends out another arm. This one has a green glowing light cell on the end of it. He lifts it up to the edge of the hole and I peer inside. All I can see is a messy tangle of wires.
“Any idea what those wires are for?” I ask Oscar.
Oscar lifts his head up to the hole and peers in. The next thing I know, he’s projecting an image of the wires and their circuit board into the air above his back. I sit back and look at it closely. According to Oscar’s diagram, all of the wires seem to feed into one central input.
“I have a feeling that if we can tear the right ones out, we can deactivate the door’s security system,” I say to Oscar. “But how can we do that without electrocuting ourselves?”
Oscar shakes his head and looks sadly down at the floor.
“It’s okay, pup,” I say, rubbing his head with my knuckles. “I don’t have any ideas either!”
Still, I can’t just sit there. I climb up onto my knees, and with help from Oscar’s light I take a look into the hole. The first thing I notice is that half of the wires are red, and half of them are green. They all seem to be knotted together.
“Oscar,” I say. “Do a quick Splinternet search and find out what these wire colors mean!”
Oscar takes a photo of the wires and projects a Splinternet window into the air above his back. A moment later we get an answer. According to the Splinternet, red wires carry electricity. I definitely won’t be touching those. But it also tells us that the green wires are smart-wires - they carry around the information that tells each part of the vehicle what to do. They’re safe to touch, but most importantly, safe to cut!
“I think you know what to do, Oscar,” I say with a wink.
Oscar opens his back panel and lifts out the spinning blade again. I grab him and pick him up so he can see into the hole, and he starts cutting. As soon as he cuts the first green wire, the van-copter engine makes a noise like a swarm of angry bees. He cuts through another wire, and suddenly my eyes are dazzled by a bright beam of light. For a moment I think he’s cut a red wire and electro-fried himself. But then I realize the light isn’t coming from Oscar — it’s coming from the sun!
The two panels of the van-copter door are slowly opening outwards. I can see the road, and the door of Spike’s shop.
“Amazing work, Oscar!” I yell. “Now, let’s get out of here!”
Just as I slide my first foot toward the road, the engine growls and the van-copter lifts into the air. I roll out and crash onto the road, and Oscar rolls after me.
As the van-copter lifts higher, I realize something’s wrong. Oscar’s hanging in the air, upside down. His tail seems to be caught in the van-copter’s number plate. I try to grab hold of one of his front paws, but it’s too late - the van-copter is already a few feet above my head. All I get is a touch of my hand on Oscar’s left paw.
As the van-copter soars upward, he wriggles and whines, and looks more frightened than I’ve ever
seen him. It tears a hole in my heart, but all I can do is watch as he vanishes into the clouds floating in front of Skyburb 7...
CHAPTER 5
Oscar Goes Home
An hour later, I’m back at the storeroom, telling Jessie all about our disastrous morning, and begging her for whatever help she can give me.
A small tear slides down her cheek. “Poor Oscar,” she says. “I can’t imagine how scared he must be right now.”
“I know. We’ve got to get him out of there before they wipe his memory - but how?”
Jessie bites her lip. “I have an idea,” she says. “As long as you promise not to tell anyone.”
“You know you can trust me, Jessie!”
I follow Jessie to the back of her workshop, toward a door I’ve never been through before. Then, I follow her through, into a rusty old shed with a roller door at the far end. In the middle of the shed, there’s an old air-cab, with the Bluggsville City Museum logo on both doors.
“I don’t get to drive this thing very often,” says Jessie. “I’m only meant to use it for official museum business, but today I’m more than happy to break the rules.”
“That’s amazing,” I say. “It’ll be much quicker than going down to the ground and taking another aircell up to Skyburb 7.”
‘“Hop in, Max.”
“Hold on a sec,” I reply. “I just remembered something I might need when we get there.”
As Jessie starts the engine, I run all the way back to our cozy packing case. I grab hold of my pillow and pull out its stuffing - the old gray uniform I was wearing when we escaped from the Home. I figure it might be easier to get back in if I look like I belong there.
The only problem is, I’ve grown a bit since I last wore it, two years ago! It’s like trying to squeeze my whole body into an old sock, but somehow, I make it fit. Lucky it’s made of st
retchy material! I transfer the mystery sticky thing into my uniform pocket, and run back to Jessie’s air-cab as fast as I can.
“Looking good, Max!” says Jessie. I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.
“Thanks, Jessie,” I grumble. “Let’s just go, if that’s okay.”
Jessie presses a button with her thumb and I feel the vehicle lifting into the air. Then, she touches a button on the dashboard, and the door starts rolling upward. As it lifts up, I see blue sky and clouds, and three other Skyburbs floating in the distance.
“That’s Skyburb 7 over there,” says Jessie. “We’ll be there in two minutes if I drive fast.”
She puts her foot down hard, and we zoom out of the shed at high speed. As we approach Skyburb 7, my stomach ties up in knots. It’s been nearly two years since we escaped that place. It’s not somewhere I was ever planning to revisit.
Skyburb 7 is full of multi-colored towers, of all shapes and sizes. At the north end, there’s a set of towers I know far too well. From the outside, they look like the turrets of a castle from a fairy tale, but it’s definitely no fairy tale inside. We pull up and park beside the main gate in front of them.
Just above the gate, there’s still a sign that says “Welcome to the Skyburb 7 Home for Unclaimed Urchins.”
Looking through the windscreen of Jessie’s air-cab, I take a very deep breath. Suddenly, my heart is racing. It feels like a thousand monkeys are leaping around inside my stomach.
“Hey, Jessie,” I squeak, “how about you go in and pretend to be a staff member? They’ll let you into all sorts of areas the urchins can’t go.”
Jessie looks concerned. “You know I’d be happy to do that,” she replies. “Anything for you and Oscar. But it won’t take them long to realize I don’t have an ID chip. I really doubt I’d get very far.”
I think about what Jessie’s just said. She’s right - as much as I hate to admit it, it’s probably safer if I go in alone. At least I’ll blend in with the other urchins, and maybe I’ll see some old friends who might be able to help me...
“Okay,” I say to Jessie. “You go back to the storeroom, and I’ll find Oscar.”
“This is terrible,” she says. “I can’t even contact you. Even if - I mean, when - you find Oscar, those phone goggles of his are still broken, aren’t they?”
I’d forgotten about the phone goggles. Jessie’s right. I won’t even be able to get in touch when we’re ready to come home.
Jessie looks at her watch. “It’s 2:15 p.m.,” she says. “How about I come back at 4:15? Hopefully by then you’ll have an extra passenger for me!”
“Two hours,” I say. “Hmm. That’s not long, but I’ll do my best.”
I step out of the air-cab and try to stretch the legs of my uniform down further. Right now, it looks like I’m wearing a pair of gray surf shorts!
“Take care, Max,” says Jessie. “I know you can do this. If you’re not here when I come back, I’ll come in and find you... one way or another.”
I lean against the gate and wave as Jessie zips across the sky, back toward Skyburb 6. As she disappears from view, I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so alone.
CHAPTER 6
Our Buddy, Brandon
I squeeze my fists tight and push my way through the heavy iron gates. When I’m all the way in, the first thing I see is the long, stony pathway that leads up to the main entrance. I walk along it as quickly as I can, like I’m meant to be there. I know the reception desk is just inside the door, and that the principal’s office is just behind it.
As I open the door, a beep goes off and I dive down onto the floor. Just then, I hear a voice above me. “Can I help you?” it asks.
I recognize the voice straight away - it’s Commander Pye, the officer in charge of reception and security.
I lean against the side of the reception desk and try not to breathe.
“Hello?” says Pye again.
A few seconds later, I hear the principal’s voice in the distance. “Ignore it, Pye, it’s just that stupid electro-moth flapping across the sensors again.”
“You’re probably right,” says Commander Pye, and I hear him flopping back into his seat and flicking his kettle on.
With the sound of bubbling water to hide my shuffles, I crawl past the end of the desk and onto the stairway that leads up to the classrooms. Now, I can finally stand up and walk. But I don’t walk - I run up those stairs so fast I completely forget there’s a security camera at the top of the second corner.
Just before I reach the next floor, I hear Commander Pye yelling up at me. “You!” he croaks. “Why aren’t you in class?”
There’s no way I can turn around to face him. He stopped me escaping so many times, he’ll recognize my face as soon as he sees me. I put my hand over my mouth and pretend to sneeze.
“Sorry,” I say, through my fingers. “I was just seeing the nurse for some cough medicine. I’m on my way back to class right now.”
“Name, please,” says Pye.
Name? Yikes. I wasn’t expecting to be asked for that. I can only think of one other name that belongs here. “Brandon Malkmus,” I say. “Room 275.”
“Okay, Malkmus, on your way.”
Brandon was my roommate here when I escaped this place. He was my closest friend, too. I haven’t seen him for nearly two years, but I know he’ll do what he can to help.
I run along the corridor, past the classrooms I used to spend my time in - eleven hours a day, to be precise. Through the glass doors of each room, I can see the other urchins staring up at the blueboard. Their sad, blank faces remind me of one very big fact - escaping this place was the best thing I ever did.
There’s a sign above each door. They haven’t changed since I was last here. In room 106: Skyburb Piloting. Room 107: Skyburb Maintenance. Room 108: Skyburb Art. I was interested in that one for a while, before I heard how dangerous it was. Back then, the governor of Bluggsville wanted us to paint clouds on the bottom of every Skyburb, to make them nicer to look at from the ground. He wanted an army of urchins to hang off the bottom of every Skyburb and do the artwork! Luckily, it never happened.
In the last room in the corridor, room 110, one of my old teachers, Ms. Shinoda, is giving some kind of safety demonstration. Through the glass in the door, I see the face of a friend I’ve missed a lot over the last two years. It’s Brandon, being fitted with an Aircell Attendant Harness. If Ms. Shinoda has her way, he’ll soon be dangling beneath aircells and making repairs to them. It’s a terribly dangerous job, but no one seems to have told Brandon that.
As I pass by the classroom, Brandon looks my way. For a second, our eyes meet. His jaw drops open and his eyes triple in size. As quickly as I can, I point toward the Sleep Wing, and make the numbers 2, 7, and 5 with my fingers. He looks down at his harness as if he hasn’t seen me.
While the corridors are still empty, I hurry over to the Sleep Wing and sneak into room 275 - my old bedroom. There are still two beds in there, Brandon’s, and one that used to be mine. I sit on Brandon’s bed, looking around the room and remembering how much I hated this place. Every minute of every day, the staff did everything they could to turn us into obedient little Skyburb workers. They seem to have one main goal: to make sure those wealthy people on the ground mingle with us “shadies” as little as possible.
In the corner of Brandon’s desk, there’s still a holo-photo of me and him, making faces at each other. It’s nice to know he hasn’t forgotten me either.
I sit and wait until I hear the distant sounds of the end-of-class bell. As soon as I hear the pattering of footsteps in the distance, I climb under Brandon’s bed. I don’t know anything about his new roommate. If he arrives before Brandon, I’ll be in a much bigger pickle than
I am already. I only have to wait a few seconds before the door opens, and a pair of feet appear in the doorway.
“Max,” says a voice, “are you here?”
I slide my head out from under the bed and give Brandon
a big cheesy grin. “Hey, Bran! Fancy seeing you here!”
“Max!” he hisses. “Are you crazy? What are you doing back here?”
“Uh, hi, Brandon. Nice to see you too!”
“Sorry, Max. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just worried about what’ll happen if they catch you here.”
I start to climb out from under the bed, but Brandon tells me I’d better stay there in case his new roommate, Yoshi, arrives without warning.
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