Atlas Fallen

by Jessica Pierce

  Chase the dead and there will be

  A truth you may uncover.

  O sorrow, can you blame me?

  With disparity between our ranks

  We lay a curse upon each other.

  For love of country, king, and crown,

  We seek our vengeance nigh—

  Just redemption I shall have

  The day you join my side.

  The song continued as Theopoenne, now dressed as a fearsome female warrior, rallied her army of soldiers. They danced, circling center stage like lions ready to strike a deadly blow.

  Shadows shifted on the catwalk as Blitz came to stand by her side. “Are you alright, Tesla? You seem pretty distracted.”

  She blinked, pulled from her thoughts, and gave the boy a slight smile. “That song. I think I’ve heard it before.”

  “It’s been the top show in London for a few decades now. Were your parents fans?”

  “We never went to the theater,” she said, shaking her head. “My mom used to bribe Bok to sell us recordings from Earthen feeds. Sometimes we’d sneak to the top of the apartments and play them on an old HDP after curfew. I guess this must have been one of them.”

  “Do you think you’ll miss the Atlas?” Blitz asked. “Once all this is over, I mean. When I first left home, I missed my mom so bad it hurt. I was only seven when the RAF academy recruited me. Mom wanted me to wait a few years, she begged me, but I was too excited. I’m lucky that Sav, Jasmeen, and Daxton became my new family, but sometimes I still wish I had listened to my mom.”

  “The others are lucky to have you,” said Tesla, gently squeezing his shoulder. “And I’m sure your mom is proud of you every day.”

  “I know she is. She makes sure to gush about it all the time, which is kind of embarrassing. But I’ll be the first to admit that saying goodbye to my home wasn’t easy, ” Blitz said, his smile tinged with sadness. "What was your mom like?”

  “Sometimes it's hard to remember, ” said Tesla, exhaling as she tried to recall. “But I know I miss her. She was kind and giving, and always stood up for what was right. If someone in the Gulch fell on hard times, my mother was always the first to help. My father was her biggest champion. ”

  Tesla chewed her lip. She hadn’t really allowed herself to think much about what she’d be leaving behind, but there was no denying that her new life on Earth came at a cost. She’d only just found her first real lead about the truth of her father’s crimes. Jumping to the planet surface meant closing that chapter of her life and abandoning any chance she had at clearing his name.

  He would want you to go, she reminded herself. The Atlas was the only home she’d ever known. Every memory of her parents began and ended on the station, but the fact remained that if she stayed, she’d have to keep winning botFights, risking her life at the whim of her slaver. The minute she lost or made another mistake, Minko and the Red Ashes would slit her throat. Kiyo had already turned bounty hunter for Yosef. How long until the price on her head was too much for anyone to resist?

  Tesla fidgeted with a piece of wire coiled around the catwalk railing. “No,” she said, answering his question from before. “There’s nothing left for me on the Atlas.”

  A beautiful soprano note rang out. Theopoenne Fox concluded the opera’s first act, her voice fading beneath several waves of wild applause. Tesla couldn’t blame them; the prima donna was phenomenal. With a flourish of her costume, she exited the stage, disappearing back into the wings. Jasmeen signaled for the others to be quiet as the theater’s house lights suddenly brightened for intermission. Tesla’s pupils ached from the sudden change.

  Stage hands rushed to clear the set, scurrying like silent mice in a maze.

  “Right on time,” Blitz said with a tap of his wristcomm. “Everyone ready for the jump?”

  Sav and Jasmeen nodded, but Tesla felt a prick of uncertainty. This part of the plan felt even riskier than the rest. A thousand things could go wrong if they missed the cue.

  A heavy canvas painted to look like a castle exterior lowered onto the stage floor and sent its large, bulky counterweight—their target—zooming up to meet them on the platform.

  “Time it correctly. If you miss, this opera will have a surprise ending,” warned Sav. “The trick is to grab the weight and keep your legs from getting tangled in the ropes. Make sure to move quickly and leave room for the person behind you to make the leap. It will take us all the way up to the emergency hatch.”

  “Jumped on many opera sets, have you?” said Blitz, rocking back and forth. Despite his sarcasm, Tesla could tell the boy was nervous.

  “Ready... now!”

  Tesla waited as the others quickly leapt onto the weight, her body trembling with fear. Jasmeen finally motioned for her to follow, and she vaulted forward, arms frantically searching through the shadows to find a crease, an edge, anything her fingers could grip. Her right hand grazed something soft, and her fist tightened around a tarp-like cloth, but her other hand was left clutching shadows. Panic seized her. I’m going to die right here, right now. The fabric beneath her fingers felt slick, and she began to slip.

  Jasmeen and Blitz grabbed each of her wrists, hauling her torso onto the beam. Tesla’s trembling arms encircled the hardwood like a vise. “Thanks,” she managed.

  The counterweight rose to a point far above even the highest of the catwalks. According to Blitz’s schematics, Commander Grey’s office lay above them, just past a series of fire exhaust vents.

  “You’re on,” Sav whispered, handing her a small leather bundle from beneath his costume. Inside, Tesla found a small welding torch. “Make it quick. Once the theater lights fade to black again people will notice the flame, even up here.”

  She carefully slid toward the center of the counterweight, thankful that her movements were muffled by the tinkling of laughter and conversation below. Blitz stood on the tips of his toes to attach a small, oblong device to the overhead hatch, watching as its green light turned to red.

  “The alarm is deactivated,” he assured Tesla, adjusting his goggles to check the readout of his HDP. “Now we just need you to break us inside.”

  With a deep breath, Tesla pulled herself to her feet, centering her balance as she focused her attention on the hatch. She inspected the lock, traced the weakest points in the metal, and activated the torch. A faint blue light appeared. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and she pulled the costume mask down, using the thick material as a makeshift welding shield. Sparks fell like shooting stars around her as she touched the flame to the hatch.

  “I didn’t plan for the smell,” Jasmeen coughed from behind her sleeve. “We need to hurry before someone thinks the theater is on fire.”

  Tesla grit her teeth, slicing the blaze deeper into the lock. A bright orange glow spread outward as molten metal pulled away from the seams. “Few more seconds,” she muttered. Beads of moisture trickled down her temples. “Sav, get ready!”

  He moved quickly, shifting into place as the hatch swung open. Using Blitz’s work gloves, he slowly lowered the door to muffle any noise, careful to avoid the superheated lock.

  The lights flickered and began to dim once more, signaling the end of intermission and the beginning of act two. Theopoenne Fox entered from stage right in a swath of silks and sequins, and her voice crescendoed higher and higher in an intricate rhythm. The usurping king attacked the banished prince, but Theopoenne threw herself in front of a sword to protect him. A red strip of silk flew outward from her chest, cascading down to the stage like a blood-red rain. The soprano fell, and a spotlight from a booth across the opera hall narrowed on her lithe frame.

  The view at this height made the sparkling audience members blur together like a brilliantly cut diamond. Don’t get sick, Tesla repeated to herself over and over. She steadied her breathing until her heart rate felt almost normal.

  “Blitz, Tesla, you’re with me,” said Jasmeen. “Sav—don’t let this train leave without us.” With barely a sound, she lifted herself int
o the hatch and disappeared from sight.

  Blitz was next through the opening. Sav reached for Tesla’s hand and pulled her forward, cupping his palms to give her feet a boost. Her fingers found a railing inside the vent, making the climb easier.

  “Time for act three,” Sav whispered. His eyes gleamed in the stage lights, and with a grin he shut the door, plunging Tesla into darkness.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  THE SICK FEELING IN DAXTON'S STOMACH had nothing to do with the nearness of Cerise’s hand to his own, or the overpowering scent of her perfume. No, his guts were twisting because he’d seen Tesla nearly fall, had watched as the others had grabbed her at the last moment, saving her from plummeting to the stage. His blood had run cold, and it had taken every ounce of willpower not to leave the box and run to help the others. Even now, minutes after she’d disappeared through the hatch in the ceiling, he could still feel his heartbeat thudding against his eardrums.

  “Her performance was a bit heavy on the melodrama, if you ask me,” Cerise commented after Theopoenne Fox’s fatal exit.

  He sighed. She hadn’t stopped critiquing the show since the start of act one. He’d nearly wept with joy when she had briefly left his side for a photo with a fan upon their arrival, giving him enough time to briefly seek refuge in the restrooms. Luckily, Chen Yao had already been inside. Daxton had hoped the ambassador might give away some other information, but the man had simply washed his hands, adjusted his tuxedo, and rejoined a beautiful woman near the wine tables.

  A few rows above him and to his right, Yao and his date pressed their heads together in conversation, ignoring the show. He watched the ambassador stroke her cheek with the back of his hand, causing the woman’s pale skin to blush a deep rose. Make a mistake tonight. Give me a reason to have you arrested.

  Doyle’s whining voice cut into his thoughts. “Er—Your Highness, will you be needing anything else during the remainder of the opera?”

  Daxton looked at the man in surprise. It wasn’t like his advisor to leave an event early, especially with so many members of the Red Council present. From his seat behind Daxton, thousands of eyes would land on Doyle tonight, including the few paparazzi who had been able to sneak past the opera hall’s ushers. Normally the man loved the attention.

  “Everything alright?” Daxton inquired.

  “Just a little tired from the week’s busy schedule. I’d like to rest in my chambers, if you’ll permit me.”

  The prince had to admit even he felt exhausted. There were rings of red around Doyle’s eyes, most likely from being woken by Kyrartine for the prince’s midnight scolding. Daxton often forgot the advisor tended to the royal schedules as well as other diplomatic affairs. It was no wonder the man wanted to lie down.

  He looked toward the adjacent theater box where the Imperator and Imperatoress sat engaged in a low conversation with the African High Chancellor. Kyrartine stood by the exit scanning the crowd, occasionally whispering into his wristcomm. They were all preoccupied and wouldn’t miss Doyle if the man made a hasty exit.

  “Of course,” said Daxton. He gestured toward Cademore and Gifford, both of whom seemed enraptured by the ongoing play. “These two will keep me out of trouble. You’re excused, Doyle.”

  The advisor bowed deeply, his bald head reflecting in the stage lights. “Thank you, Prince Tomasz.” With a grunt, Gifford leaned away from the exit, allowing barely enough room for the bespectacled man to squeeze past.

  Daxton turned around to find Cerise flashing him a brilliant smile. “You’re so kind to your inferiors. It’s one of the reasons I love you so dearly,” she said.

  “I don’t believe for one second that you love anyone but yourself. And Doyle isn’t my inferior. He’s a man doing a job. In that way, we are exactly equals.”

  “Oh, you know what I meant!” the starlet snapped. “Stop acting so self-righteous about everything.”

  “You’re the only one putting on an act for the people around you. Don’t you get tired?”

  Cerise tossed her hair. “Do you know how much I’m cherished around the world? How many fans would kill to get even a spark of my attention? Here I am, ready to give my life to you, and you repay me with cynicism.” She turned to face him fully. “If you don’t want me, what is it you want, Tomasz? Truly?”

  Freedom. The answer came to him easily. Liam’s death had changed everything. Were he still alive, Daxton would be in the seat of a starfighter, not waiting in line for a throne he didn’t want. And not on the verge of betrothal to a shrew, he thought bitterly. Though, there was no one to blame for that but himself.

  And if he was being honest, he wanted Tesla. Wanted to see where more time with her could lead. She was headstrong and stubborn, yes, but she was also fiercely talented and intelligent and unlike any girl he’d ever met. She’d shown signs of a softer side, back when they’d first met at the party and again in her apartment, and he longed to make her feel safe enough to bring that part of her to the surface. He wanted to convince her that though they came from different backgrounds, they were much the same. She understood what it was like to lose her place in the universe, to fight against her circumstances and become something more.

  But ultimately, what Daxton wanted didn’t matter; his father had made that clear enough. Wishing for freedom and more time with Tesla wouldn’t change the fact that he’d taken Liam’s place as Prime Heir—and that Tesla’s new life on the planet’s surface wouldn’t include Daxton. Tomorrow, at the ball, he would announce the engagement between himself and Cerise, pose for the trendmags, and then drink himself into a miserable stupor as Jasmeen told him what an idiot he was. His father would disapprove of his behavior, but his father could be damned. The throne would come soon enough, but until then, he’d be his own man as much as possible.

  Cerise was still waiting for an answer, so Daxton shrugged, unwilling to explain it all. “Happiness,” he said before she could press him further. “I want to be happy.”

  A smile stretched across her beautiful features. “Then we both want the same thing.” Her arms curled around him, and she rested her pink hair against his shoulder with a contented sigh.

  Daxton willed himself not to leave before he knew his friends were safe. He glanced at his wristcomm, concerned by the time. The usurper king, disguised as the beggar prince, jumped from behind a statue, startling a few audience members enough that audible gasps rippled through the seats.

  He frowned as his senses prickled with alarm. The finale would happen soon, which meant the scenery would raise again, stranding the others above if they didn’t make it back in time. Far above his head, he could see Sav pacing on the counterweight.

  Something is wrong.

  Daxton tried to appear calm, though his stomach twisted with worry. With his watchdogs blocking the box’s exit, and Cerise’s claws digging into his arm, there was nothing he could do. He dared another glance toward the empty hatch in the ceiling, toward Sav’s terrified face that so closely mirrored his own.

  The sick feeling returned.

  TWENTY-SIX

  THE SERVICE CORRIDOR ROSE directly vertical from the opera hall. Tesla’s arms screamed from the effort of bracing herself between the walls, and her ribs felt as though they would snap. Her neck no longer ached from Kiyo’s attack, but she had underestimated her other injuries—from both Naamah and the fight—insisting to the others that she could handle the strenuous efforts of the climb.

  “Ouch! That’s my foot, you oaf,” Jasmeen hissed quietly from up ahead.

  “Go faster,” was Blitz's reply.

  The events of the past few days were finally beginning to overwhelm Tesla's senses. Just a few more days and you can heal on Earth. With a heaving effort, she shimmied upward once more, pulling herself onto a perpendicular bend in the serviceway.

  Here the corridor opened, allowing them to stand. Tesla brushed a bit of dusty cobweb from her hair. As understaffed as maintenance was, there was no telling how long it had been since the area had be
en properly serviced, which was exactly why they’d chosen the path as a possible route to the command center. A bluish glow illuminated the space, occasionally growing fainter in areas with burned-out bulbs. Blitz motioned for them to follow as he examined a small readout on his HDP.

  “Forward fifty paces and two right turns,” he said.

  “How did you know this hatchway existed in the first place, Tesla?” asked Jasmeen. The operative’s masked face was a study of shadows as she glanced over her shoulder.

  Because I discovered it while planning to confront Commander Grey about my father’s innocence. It had been a foolish idea hatched just after the execution, a desperate attempt to get a private audience with the man she saw as responsible for his death. She didn’t have near the resources to hack the door codes, nor did she have a way to bring the counter-weight of the stage’s fly system high enough to reach the hatch in the first place. The idea had been abandoned long ago for the same reasons she had told the others earlier. It was far too dangerous.

  Behind the mask, Jasmeen’s eyes flashed with an unreadable look, and Tesla shrugged. “I remembered it from a maintenance schedule,” she lied.

  Jasmeen clearly wasn’t convinced. Tesla could see it in the way the girl paused before nodding, as if mentally shredding each word apart to find the truth.

  “But it hasn’t been,” she said a moment later.

  “What?”

  “Serviced.” Jasmeen motioned to a row of overheated floor lights as they made the second right turn. “No one has been here in quite a while. So how did you really know about it?”

  Tesla avoided her penetrating gaze, instead counting paces against the floor. Nearly there. She could trust the weapons expert. She wasn’t exactly certain how she knew, but it was there. Still, the minute she let the truth out, it would change everything—the way it always did. Whenever someone recognized her as the daughter of Nevik Petrov, infamous traitor of the Atlas station, Tesla became anathema by association.