Skyship Academy tpw-1

by Nick James

  As I join her on the waiting platform, I watch the Chute crawl toward us, a thin white monorail approaching like a snake. They say these things can travel up to 150 miles an hour when they get out of the city. It’s a good thing, too. The speedier, the better.

  Finding the nearest station had been a hassle in itself. Tight alleyways gave way to tighter streets, while monolithic buildings stood watch on all sides like sentinels. I don’t see how people know where they’re going around here.

  The Chute blows my hair to the side as its front end passes by and stops beside the platform. Circular doors on each car whoosh open and crowds of people pour out, rushing past us to the exit queues. I spin around to see government officials scanning the wrists of the passengers as they exit the station and head into the city.

  “You don’t have some fancy ID code, do you?” I whisper to Avery.

  She shakes her head. “They removed it before I came up to the Academy.”

  I groan. Without codes we’ve got no credit. This is gonna be a stolen ride.

  A crowd of waiting passengers fills in around us. We stay in the center and join the current, hands in pockets. Boarding this thing probably isn’t the safest plan ever, but we don’t have a lot of options.

  When the car empties, a pair of scanner guns pop out from inside. Travelers push their way onto the Chute, wrists up to display their ID sockets. Blue lasers brush over codes with a series of electronic beeps. Avery and I deliberately keep our hands in our pockets as we squeeze in between passengers, hoping that there aren’t any security cameras watching.

  If they don’t catch us coming on, they’ll get us for sure when we exit. We might be able to fool a laser. A government official won’t be so easy.

  We board the Chute without setting off any alarms and find two corner seats in the back. I slump next to the window, making myself as invisible as possible. I peer out at the city, focusing on the third-floor window of a neighboring office building. Rows of desks stretch beyond the glass. Late night workers plug away at computer boards inside. Mass joyless-kinda like Visitation Day.

  An elderly woman takes a seat across from us as the circular door slides shut. The Chute remains still, waiting for the rest of the cars to fill up.

  “Hey, Jesse,” Avery points at a small screen affixed to the front end of the car, “this one heads to Spokane.”

  I look over to the screen. Sure enough, bright yellow letters flash Northwest District Line: Spokane – #46. I allow myself a sliver of hope. “That’s near Seattle, right?”

  “Not really,” she says, “but at least it gets us out of the city. It’s better than heading south.”

  I nod. South is no good. I don’t feel like being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

  A pounding on the door causes everyone to turn. I crane my neck to see a face pressed against the window, inspecting the travelers around me.

  It’s Cassius. How did he find us so quickly?

  I try to duck out of the way but he spots me almost immediately.

  He pounds his fists on the side of the car. The passengers stare at him in annoyance, especially the elderly woman.

  “Frag it.” Avery flattens against her seat. “Persistent little bugger, isn’t he?”

  I ignore her, wondering how he could have escaped the cell. This is getting ridiculous. It’s like trying to crush a cockroach.

  A man in a government uniform grabs Cassius’s shoulder and spins him around, away from the door. I watch as Cassius motions with his arms for the guy to let him in, but the officer shakes his head and points toward the open cars at the back of the Chute.

  Cassius digs through his jacket, searching for something. Before he can pull it out, the engine whirs to life and speakers around the perimeter of the Chute begin to beep.

  With a frustrated glance at the officer, Cassius gives up and turns around, sprinting to the back of the Chute.

  “He’ll get on,” I whisper.

  Avery sighs. “I don’t doubt it. Just be glad he can’t get between the cars.”

  “Unless we stop,” I remind her.

  “There isn’t another Chosen between here and Spokane. It’s a straight shot. Relax.”

  I recline in my seat. I could be lying in bed right now, safe and sound back at the Academy. Instead, I’m heading for a city I’ve never been to. On the run, chased by some psycho teenaged Pearlhound-and maybe even Madame. And Avery wants me to relax?

  The speakers inside the cabin hiss to life, followed by a woman’s calming voice. “Welcome aboard this Northwest District Line to Spokane, city number forty-six. This is a non-stop journey with an arrival time estimated at eleven twenty-five.”

  I glance at the digital clock beside the screen. About two hours from now. Two hours without any running.

  “We hope your journey with us is a comfortable one,” the overhead voice continues, impossibly cheerful. “Our automated cabin crew is always available if you have any questions or concerns.”

  The Chute begins to pull forward, slowly at first, but building speed until we’re rocketing along the track. The rapidly passing scenery outside is the only clue that we’re moving at all. Motion control.

  The skyscrapers blur into a tapestry of fuzzy lights until we pass through the Bio-Net. Then nothing. No lights, no movement, just darkness staining every window.

  The temperature control hums to life and stabilizes the air inside. During the night, it can easily stay above 100 degrees out here. And it’s not even summer yet. I hear it’s killer in the summer. Surface Tan turns to Surface Stroke. No wonder Fringers try to break into Chosens.

  I stare out the window. The Chute dips forward until the tracks touch the ground. Dust kicks up from underneath our car, clouding the air before dissipating back into the blackness. We’ve officially entered the Fringes. Dustbowl territory.

  “We made it.” Avery lays her hand on my knee. “Look, about what I told you back at the Security Center-”

  I turn to her. “I don’t wanna talk about it. I don’t know what side you’re on, but I don’t want to do this alone. Not after what just happened.”

  She leans closer, whispering. “It should have burned right through you, Jesse. You should be dead right now.”

  I nod. It’s everyone’s worst fear. Even the crazy members of Heaven’s Rain wouldn’t want to be standing in front of an oncoming Pearl. But I’ve done it.

  I pause in thought. I’ve done it twice.

  The words spill out of my mouth before I even know what I’m saying. “When the Pearl almost smashed into Lookout Park, I stopped it. I caused it to veer off course somehow. It was me. I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence.”

  “You think you can control them?”

  “Or destroy them,” I reply, “like back in the alley.”

  She nods. “It’s something you’re meant to do. They did something to you back in Seattle when you were little, didn’t they?”

  I press my fingers against the glass, staring out into the nothingness. “A laboratory, with green energy. Pearl energy, like in my dream.”

  “And a key,” she adds. “Maybe this lab’s in Seattle. Maybe that’s what Alkine’s key is meant to open.”

  I frown, pulling my hand off the glass and sinking farther into the seat. “I need to trust you, Avery, if we’re gonna do this.”

  “I don’t know what I can say… ”

  “If I can really control Pearls, the government’s gonna want me. The Tribunal’s gonna want me. It’s just like Alkine said. They’d start a war over this.”

  She leans closer, keeping her voice low. “I’ve burnt bridges on both sides, Jesse. For you. I can’t go back to the Academy or to Madame. I don’t know what else I can say to convince you.” She reaches up and rubs her forehead.

  “Headache again?”

  She nods, shutting her eyes. “Wouldn’t happen to have an aspirin, would you?”

  I shake my head, turning back to the window and the thick darkness outside. The Chute lurches to the lef
t. I turn my head to see the tail end of the train curving out behind us. Cassius is back there somewhere, planning his next move. He could be calling Madame at this very moment, letting her know where to pick us up.

  My heart sinks. We escaped the city, but this Chute is a moving prison-a serpentine gift box wrapped up just for Madame. If the Unified Party’s anywhere near as organized as everyone says they are, they’re going to pounce on us as soon as we get to Spokane.

  I face forward. Avery’s eyes flutter closed, exhausted. Rather than broach the subject, I keep the panicked thought to myself, searching my mind for a game plan as we tear through the Northwestern wasteland.

  28

  Cassius squeezed into the one remaining seat at the tail end of the Chute, between an overweight man in a business suit and a teenaged girl with dark blue hair. As soon as he was settled, he buried his face in his hands, cursing silently.

  The automated “welcome aboard” announcement came over the speakers but he tuned it out, smacking his fist against his forehead. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  The blue-haired girl noticed, raising the headphone on her earpiece. Her frenetic music formed a tinny symphony above his head. “You okay, man?”

  He sat up, glaring at her. She backed off, flipping the headphone and turning her attention to the window.

  He wasn’t okay. First he’d lost Fisher on the Skyship, then he’d lost him on the Surface. Worse yet, when Madame finally arrived in Portland expecting to find him, all she’d get was an empty prison cell and a bunch of beaten-up guards. Then Cassius would never have a chance of opening the black cube and discovering what was inside.

  What’s more, Fisher seemed utterly clueless about what had actually happened back on the rooftop. Madame had seemed convinced that the guy was responsible for his combustion, but looking into Fisher’s eyes, listening to his panicked voice, Cassius wasn’t so sure anymore. Madame lied to others. Maybe she was lying to him now.

  The windows filled with the sprawling darkness of the Fringes. The cabin lights flickered off for a brief moment as the temperature control kicked in. He felt a vibration in his pocket. His com-pad beeped.

  He reached for it, glancing down at the front screen. Madame’s code flashed in tiny numbers, on and off in rhythm with the beeping.

  Don’t let them transfer Fisher, she’d said. He was pretty sure escaping on the Chute was worse than being transferred.

  He hit the button on the side of the com-pad to silence it, staring at the numbers as they flashed noiselessly. If he didn’t answer, she’d know there was trouble. If he did, he’d have to explain the situation. Or lie. She’d see through a lie.

  Before he had a chance to make up his mind, the numbers disappeared and the screen went dead. He took a deep breath, realizing what he’d just done. If she wanted to track him, it’d be easy enough to activate the microchip inside of the device. She’d probably already done so.

  He wasn’t scared of her. He couldn’t be. She was like a mother to him. Like a mother, but not really.

  No, she was a member of the Unified Party first and foremost. He’d seen a glimpse of it back on Atlas, a peek into the things she didn’t talk about… the choices the country had been forced to make after the bombings. He couldn’t deal with her right now-not while he still needed to capture Fisher. Let her call him when he had some good news. Talking would only complicate things-cause him to second-guess himself.

  He couldn’t face her empty-handed.

  He put the com-pad back in his pocket, forgetting it.

  Two hours-two hours to think of something, some way to capture Fisher without getting the government involved.

  He glanced over to the blue-haired girl, bobbing her head to the music, eyes shut. So unaware.

  He loosened his collar, cursing himself once more before reclining in the seat and closing his eyes. Focusing.

  29

  The girl I’ve been in love with for almost three years is working for the enemy.

  An hour into our journey, I pass the time by slowly unraveling a thread from a hole in the arm of my school suit. Then I start to play with the gauze around my shoulder. It itches. I decide to take it off and stuff it into my pocket. Underneath, my skin is as smooth as it ever was. Weird.

  Whatever they did to us before chucking us into the cell certainly did the trick.

  Avery’s slumped over, fast asleep with her head on my shoulder. Normally I’d be mass psyched about this little turn of events, but not now. Not with so much to think about.

  She’s working for the enemy, the Unified Party-the group everyone’s warned me about since I was a kid.

  She’s clever, that’s for sure. She fooled the faculty. She fooled me. Yet somehow I don’t think it’s all an act. Maybe with the rest of them, but not with me.

  My mind rockets back to the day we first met. I was at Lookout Park, hiding behind the thickest tree I could find, pressed up against the protective dome. August Bergmann and his cronies had threatened to stuff me into one of the supply lockers and rig it shut. I’d slipped away after class, pressing through the crowd of students into the elevators before they could come after me. I spent the next period squeezed behind the tree. Not my proudest moment.

  Then I heard her. “Hey kid,” she’d said. I looked up and there she was, perched in the branches like some crazy animal. I’d never seen a girl like her before. Turned out she was skipping class too, though not for the same reason as me. We spent the next hour talking. She seemed to understand it all-the big picture. She knew everything I was going through.

  Now I understand it. She’d been spying on me before that conversation. She did know everything about me, maybe more than I knew myself. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that she’d cared enough to comfort me. Nobody else had.

  Before meeting Avery, I’d had to make do with my teammates. Skandar’s cool, but never really understood things like she did. And Eva… Eva obviously had ulterior motives.

  I do my best not to move, taking light breaths so I won’t wake her. Most of the passengers in our car have fallen asleep, too. I don’t blame them. There’s nothing to see outside beyond the darkness. Twice we’ve passed tiny Fringe Towns with one or two makeshift lanterns perched on tall wooden posts. The lights whipped by so fast that I barely noticed them. It’s better that way. After what happened back in Syracuse, I’m not too eager to try my luck again in the Fringes.

  Then something hits the window on the far end of our cabin, breaking the stillness. My shoulder jerks back into the seat. The poor old woman across from us pops up with a start, looking around.

  Avery shifts in her seat. I freeze, hoping that she won’t wake up. Too late.

  Another microsecond and the noise rattles the window once more. Then again. Again.

  A volley of rocks batter the outside of the Chute like maniacal, heavy rain, pelting the windows. The cabin jostles, waking up those who weren’t already alert. Muted shouts of anger echo outside.

  A second later and it’s gone.

  Avery’s head darts up from my shoulder. She looks at me with groggy eyes. “What’s happening?”

  “Fringers,” I respond, “I think. Throwing rocks.”

  “Oh,” she yawns. “I woke up for that?”

  “Probably their goal,” I say. “I mean, it’s not like they were going to stop the Chute.”

  She glances over to my shoulder. “Did I-I mean-”

  “Yeah,” I reply.

  The captain’s voice comes over the intercom, letting us know that everything’s going to be okay, that we just experienced a bit of Fringe turbulence. People chuckle. Me, not so much.

  Being forced into a burning brick wall by a trio of bloodthirsty teenagers? Now that’s Fringe turbulence.

  30

  Focus gave way to exhaustion as Cassius’s eyes struggled to stay open. He was about to drift into sleep when the pain hit him again. Same as the Lodge and the Academy, like an eighteen-wheeler was being driven through his chest.

&n
bsp; His eyes darted open automatically. His thoughts lagged behind, more annoyed than concerned.

  Now? Just when he was about to get some sleep?

  But as his sleep-addled mind began to clear, annoyance turned to panic. Now? On this train with nowhere else to go?

  The medication had kept him safe up to this point. Its effects must have expired. Tightening his lips to keep any noise in, he felt around in his pocket for the small envelope of pills Madame had given him. He found it almost immediately, pressed tightly against his warming body. Only two left.

  Realizing he needed water, he fought through the pain and stood up, staggering through the length of the cabin toward the bathroom door on the opposite side. The light above shone green. It was unoccupied.

  Pushing into the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, breathing hard. His heart leapt out of his chest, speeding up with every second, trying to break free. Soon it would match the pace of the Chute. Not again. Not now.

  He stumbled to the miniature silver sink in the corner and poured the two white pills from the envelope, cradling them in his palm.

  Out of nowhere the room began to shake. Something pelted the outside of the wall. Rain? No, it was impossible. It hardly ever rained in the Fringes.

  The noises grew louder. Something heavy rocked the right wall of the bathroom, tilting the ground up beneath his feet. Before he could prevent it, his hand flew into the air. The pills scattered, landing in the sink. Clank. Clank.

  He panicked, watching as they danced around the outline of the drain before disappearing into the dark hole.

  Body on fire, he reached down to try to retrieve them, but the drain was deep and narrow. His fingers only went so far. No pipe to unscrew. No pills.

  He kicked the wall, tears forming in his eyes before they evaporated into the air.

  He did what he could.

  Crouching on the floor, he huddled in the corner and gripped his chest, focusing on breathing. Desperate to inhale cool, temperature-controlled air and exhale the heat, he imagined snow. Ice cubes. Freezers.