Idiosyncratic

  Vlady’mir gave his two cents by answering with a snarl. I glared at the beast, but just then a small doorway jarred open.

  “Vlady’mir? Is that you, boy?”

  I saw the curl of copper locks peek out of the door first, and then his face came into the light. It was the boy from the restaurant, Gid’ion.

  |Thirty|

  “YOU,” GID’ION BREATHED, astonished. His eyes grew wide as he stepped out into the corridor.

  “Don’t forget about me,” No’ll said, slinging his arm around my shoulder.

  Gid’ion’s eyes jumped from No’ll’s arm to his air tank and then rested on his face. His finger rose to point dramatically at No’ll.

  “You’re a...you’re a...” Gid’ion was so thunderstruck he couldn’t get the words out.

  “Too dashing for her?” No’ll prompted, which landed him a jab in the gut from my elbow.

  “A human,” Gid’ion finished.

  “One that has surprisingly good balance with his entire ego to carry,” I added.

  Vlady’mir growled, latching himself onto my leg. With his tiny arms, he pulled me toward Gid’ion.

  “I should have known you worked for Dr. Upton,” Gid’ion said.

  Vlady’mir made a weird hissing noise I’d never heard from him. He almost sounded frightened. He padded up to Gid’ion, weaving through his legs.

  “Oh, no. You’re coming for the ocean, aren’t you?” Gid’ion asked Vlady’mir as if they understood each other.

  Vlady’mir bounced into Gid’ion’s arms, cuddling up next to him. Gid’ion’s eyes slid to us, his expression grim.

  “I’m so sorry. Come in. Come in,” he said, stepping back into the small passageway.

  “Well, we don’t have many options, dollface. I don’t very much like that,” No’ll said, pulling me closer to him.

  “Dr. Upton clearly trusts him, and so does Vlady’mir,” I said.

  “So we follow the bunny?”

  “We follow the bunny.”

  No’ll stepped through the passageway first, and then me. Gid’ion closed the door behind me, spinning a wheel that forced mechanical rods to seal the bulkhead.

  “What’s the ocean?” No’ll asked Gid’ion.

  Gid’ion turned back to us, his eyes wide. “Holy mackerel, you really must have left in a hurry. What happened?” His gaze jumped back and forth between the two of us. I didn’t feel completely comfortable divulging information. I was already following him; how much more ammo did I want to hand over? No’ll and I both stayed silent.

  “The ocean isn’t a what, but a who. His name is Sea’bastin, my editor-in-chief.” Gid’ion narrowed his eyes at No’ll’s air tank. “We’re going to be climbing from here.”

  “Good thing I’m carrying this air tank. I’ll actually get a workout,” No’ll remarked sarcastically.

  “Good thing, I guess,” Gid’ion mumbled as he headed to a ladder with Vlady’mir latched onto his back.

  WE WERE IN A SYSTEM of pipelines and machinery, squeezing through narrow cavities between gears and channels.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Between levels of the city. This is how the Nickleby Tabloid collects information. We slip through the city almost as stealthily as you. Umm...what are your names?”

  It was silent for two loud clunks from a noisy gear off in the distance.

  “No’ll,” he said first.

  “Les’ette.”

  “My name is Gid’ion.”

  “Do you work for Dr. Upton?” I asked.

  Gid’ion laughed. “He’d like to think so. We’re in cahoots with Dr. Upton.”

  “We’re allies with that loony scientist,” a booming voice said from overhead.

  My head swung up, and I tried not to lose my grip on the iron pipe. Another man from the restaurant was staring down at us.

  “Get them inside now,” Sea’bastin ordered.

  WE SAT ON A RED CRUSHED velvet bench. Its black buttons dug into my thighs. I could see silhouettes of people through the curtains as they passed the window. We were at least on a public level, based on the traffic outside. Vlady’mir stayed close to Sea’bastin, hovering near his scuffed wingtip shoes. His black hair slicked and jutted in a very professional and stylish way.

  “I believe you have something to turn over to me. That’s the only reason you’d come like this,” Sea’bastin said.

  I hesitated but pulled out the data carousel and handed it over to him. “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Turn it over to some trustworthy people in the Federation.”

  He tucked it into the small pocket of his gray vest.

  “Are there many?” I asked.

  “You’d be surprised at how many don’t want to relive the past.”

  Sea’bastin’s words reminded me of what Dr. Upton had said to Eye’vee about the past.

  “What happened that everyone is so afraid to talk about? Why are they denying the existence of humans?” I asked.

  “Dr. Upton mentioned a plague,” No’ll added.

  Sea’bastin pulled out a pocket watch, analyzing the position of its hands. He took a deep breath, tucking it back into the pocket of his vest. His face was serious, all business. He stood up and walked over to a cabinet.

  “It’s not safe to move anyway. Might as well know how we did this to ourselves.”

  He pulled out a film projector. A reel of film was already loaded inside. Sea’bastin aimed it at an empty spot on the wall. Gid’ion turned off the lights as Sea’bastin started the film.

  Clips of men in soldiers’ uniforms marching in formation flashed across the wall. Then people were cheering, women waving handkerchiefs. A flag with stars and stripes flapped through the air. Every single person appeared human.

  A man with a straight spine and a severe face came into focus. He took a breath and stared straight into the camera.

  “In a time when we should be celebrating the triumph over the Nazi Regime, I must approach you with solemn news. This is to remain strictly confidential until the appointed time for public consumption.”

  I glanced over at Sea’bastin, who stared at the wall with a numb expression.

  “On April 30, 1945, Adolf Hitler swallowed a cyanide capsule and subsequently shot himself with a pistol, officially ending his life.” He took a breath. “So we were led to believe.”

  “The FBI has been thoroughly investigating his death due to its suspicious nature and the lack of evidence. No body was found, no photographs were taken, and nothing was filmed. After six months of rigorous effort, we can attest that the rumored theories of his flight to Spain have been confirmed. Adolf Hitler is still alive.”

  There was a commotion off camera, as if he was also speaking to a crowd of people. Their voices all melded together, words of outrage bleeding into each other.

  “We celebrated the end of the war this past May, but with a heavy heart I tell you that World War Two is not over.” The speaker was silenced again as the room echoed noisily; a ricochet of anger sparked through the crowd.

  How could a war that, according to its title, encompassed the world have been hidden? The history of humans was completely shrouded in mystery.

  “Many are aware of what is happening in Russia. A sickness has overwhelmed their populace, an epidemic that is spreading rapidly and killing in droves. This virus was perpetrated by Hitler and his scientists, engineered so that only the Aryan Race could withstand it.” He took a shaky breath. “Supposedly. These scientists are ignorant to think they can control a virus like that. We will not simply allow the Nazis to win through biological warfare.”

  The commotion grew to an all-time high. A man even stood up in front of the camera. After a few seconds it quelled, and the man slowly sat back down.

  “The United States has entered into a newly formed alliance, the Federation of Welfare, to work toward finding an antidote for this virus. I have gathered you all here, you great men of science, to ask you to join the Federation. If
this epidemic becomes a worldwide plague, it would not only decimate the human race but would also lead to a new world order. I leave you with this, fellow humans: Who wants to prevent our extinction?”

  The room stayed eerily quiet, and then the film ended. The lights buzzed back on.

  “After the virus mutated, billions began to die,” Sea’bastin said. “It was estimated that 54 percent of the human population fell victim.”

  Sea’bastin opened a desk drawer and pulled out a tech-paper. It was an old issue of the Nickleby Tabloid. He started flipping through the articles, and then held up a drawing of a human with welts and blackened fingers.

  “Everything had been poured into the Federation, so it only made sense that when chaos was all that was left, they took over. Cities were rebuilt with air filtration systems, because the virus was too resilient and the antidote wouldn’t stay in a body long enough to prevent another outbreak.”

  “The world is run on half-truths, and everyone holds fast to the wrong half,” I whispered, echoing Dr. Upton’s words.

  “We report the truth, but propaganda has clouded people’s minds, so we are simply laughed at,” Gid’ion said, pounding his fist against the wall. “No one wants to believe that we used to be human, that humans were capable of not only one atrocious world war, but a second. The Federation seems consumed with forgetting the past and holding tight to this supposedly better breed of human. What other wars have been waged? What else did humans accomplish before they were simply erased from history?”

  Sea’bastin spoke with a calm that brought assurance. “An archeologist, one of many we work with, unearths new findings every day. Answers lay in the past, but not if people don’t want to accept the truth that comes with them. The Federation is perpetuating another plague for the sake of the betterment of our future.”

  Sea’bastin pulled out the data carousel, holding it up as if examining it.

  “Do you really think this formula will change anything?” I asked.

  “I hope that it will,” Sea’bastin said, wrapping his fingers tightly around the drive. “Truths are not always an easy thing to swallow, but hope can be a lubricant.”

  “Now, the next question to ask is, what do we do with them?” Gid’ion asked.

  “I can go back to the Astronaut Cluster with No’ll.” I turned to him, my expression firm. “I’m more afraid of losing you now than taking a risk on you. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

  “You’re safe with me, dollface. I have a few tricks I’ve become pretty proficient with. New ones you don’t know about yet.” No’ll turned to Sea’bastin. “The train that heads to the City of Expectations travels close by the cluster I came from.”

  “You two can stay here tonight. It’s not safe out there,” Sea’bastin said.

  But before I could breathe a sigh of relief, the outside came crashing in on us. The ceiling exploded into blazing chaos.

  |Thirty One|

  NO’LL GRABBED ME, FLINGING us down to the ground as the fire roared toward us. The ceiling fractured and rubble rained down. Flames bloomed out from the cracks, devouring the plaster overhead.

  Silence grew around us. Only a low rumble of flames could be heard in the distance, until the sirens started to scream.

  “Air raid sirens?” Gid’ion asked, coughing against the dissipating smoke.

  “We’re being attacked,” Sea’bastin whispered, peeking out of a massive gash in his wall.

  It only took No’ll and me a few seconds of eye contact to ensure the other was all right. After that we rushed over to Sea’bastin, trying to see what he saw. The navy blue tags of the REF fluttered against the row of soldiers marching through the streets.

  “They’re after the data carousel,” Sea’bastin breathed. He rushed over to me, grabbing hold of Dr. Upton’s gauge. He inserted the data carousel and pressed buttons. When he was satisfied, he pulled out the drive.

  “Now you have a copy just in case,” Sea’bastin said.

  “In case what?” Gid’ion growled as if he knew what Sea’bastin was going to say next.

  “In case I don’t make it.” Sea’bastin squared his shoulders. “We’re splitting up.”

  Sea’bastin hustled over to his closet, pulling out a rucksack and tossing it at No’ll.

  “No,” Gid’ion protested.

  “If I don’t make it, run the exposé tabloid.” Sea’bastin threw a black pea coat at No’ll and plopped a matching fedora onto his head. No’ll stuffed the tank into the rucksack and strapped it across his back. After he flipped up the collar of the coat, his gas mask was almost completely hidden.

  Vlady’mir made that weird noise again, a frightened, almost concerned growl. As much grief as that ravenous monster wreaked, he still trotted over to me. He latched his twiggy arms around my calf and gazed up at me with a twitching nose. I bent over, reaching out with much hesitation to stroke the soft patch of green fur between his ears.

  “Me too,” I told him.

  Whipping his head away, he slapped my hand with his ears. Clearly our truce only stretched so far. Vlady’mir flapped over to Sea’bastin, posing in his fighting stance. That was the only goodbye I’d get from the fiercely loyal but sadistic bunny.

  “Get them to the train station before it’s shut down,” Sea’bastin ordered. “It will be safest if you use the window.”

  “But—” Gid’ion started to protest.

  “Gid’ion, you’re like a son to me, and that alone would have been enough for me to take this risk.”

  “Sea’bas—” Gid’ion’s voice splintered as his eyes began to redden.

  “Listen, Ace. For someone so determined to hunt down the truth, you seem to overlook the plainest fact of them all. Attaching yourself to people involves risk, involves pain. It is guaranteed in this world. You’re a savvy kid, but you need to cook with gas.”

  “If you get caught, don’t sing,” Gid’ion said, trying to joke.

  “I’m no one’s patsy,” Sea’bastin said, but when Gid’ion frowned he added, “It’ll be gravy.”

  Gid’ion nodded, finishing their conversation with a quick hug. Sea’bastin gave both of us sharp nods of acknowledgment. No one was safe, and we all knew it.

  Gid’ion led us out a window, depositing us in the middle of an alley between two high-rise apartment buildings that stretched all the way to the above level. We snuck to the corner of the building and stared out into the chaos on the streets.

  The sky suddenly lit on fire as the ground trembled. REF soldiers fell through the sparks with the roar of an explosion. The wires tethered them to the ceiling of the above level as they dropped onto a group of NNAF Watchmen. Citizens were running and screaming, pushing past our perch on the corner.

  “Back into the alley,” Gid’ion said.

  As we merged back into the darkness, I noticed pieces of tech-paper in several people’s hands. My Federation Orphanage photo and a blurry image of No’ll flashed on the handouts. Words I couldn’t make out streamed across them.

  “No, back the other way!” Gid’ion screamed as a row of automatons marched up.

  The next explosion gleamed off the sleek silver of the automatons. I skidded to a halt, hesitating for the briefest of moments, just long enough to see the war machines rolling up behind them. The steel treads of the machines imprinted the concrete. The chrome domes rotated toward us, bringing massive gun barrels with them.

  The REF was starting a battle right in the middle of Nickleby, all in order to contain the truth. Dr. Upton had been right; the truth would kill all the propaganda our society was built on.

  “Halt, citizens!” the automatons commanded in unison.

  We ran straight into the chaos of the streets. Iron balconies, shards of glass, and other debris of war fell from the sky. People were screaming and crying, trying to huddle under benches and beside automobiles. No’ll gripped my arm and pulled me forward when my churning stomach caused my legs to seize up for a fraction of a second. I stumbled over a pi
le of broken concrete and iron. My limbs became sturdy again with the reassuring squeeze of No’ll’s hand on my arm. We both continued to follow Gid’ion.

  Echoes of clashing forces, Watchmen with soldiers, automatons with ray guns, made the air reverberate. Ricochets of violence beat against my skin. Smoke swirled in the wind, pushed about by panic and mechanical ventilation.

  Gid’ion jumped backwards when a massive wall of bricks fell into our path. No’ll and I each grabbed an arm and yanked him back to his feet.

  “Help me!” a woman screamed from the rubble. Her hand wrapped around my ankle. Ash and dirt were smeared across her blouse and tangled in her matted curls. As I bent down toward her, she exploded into millions of microscopic particles, transported by a ray.

  I whipped my focus out into the streets, seeing citizens burst into pieces right in front of me. A ray beam transported them to some unknown destination, most likely a prison of sorts.

  I grabbed hold of No’ll’s hand and pushed forward. Gid’ion led us down into an underground tunnel. He closed a bulkhead similar to the one from before. The iron hatch muffled the havoc outside.

  No’ll wrenched me against him, his arms wrapping around me as if to make sure I was still in one piece. I pulled him closer too, pressing my ear against his chest to hear his racing heart.

  “Are you okay, Gid’ion?” No’ll asked.

  Gid’ion was motionless, just staring at us with an astonished expression. When he realized what he was doing, he cleared his throat.

  “I’m swell,” he muttered. “We’d better hurry.”

  THE CHAOS SEEMED TO grow quieter the longer we ventured through the tunnel. Gid’ion kept glancing at our interlocked fingers.

  “Les’ette, can I ask you something?” Gid’ion inquired.

  “Yes, we are in love,” No’ll fired off.

  Gid’ion froze in his advance as No’ll’s words slammed into his back. I shot No’ll a quick, harsh glance. He leaned in, pressing his gasmask against my forehead.