It took a second to find her balance—the slicer turned out to be heavier than she’d thought, and she veered dangerously close to the balcony before correcting her course.
And then she was out in the open sky.
For a chaotic second, everything around Yala was a whirl of flashing lights and explosions. She spun, saw the massive cruiser looming directly overhead, and adjusted the slicer. Anything less than a direct hit, Cortinas had said. She centered the sights on the hull and squeezed the trigger. The explosion burst out sooner than she’d expected—it threw her back, and she only barely managed to keep hold of the slicer as she tumbled into a free fall toward the Music Hall rooftop.
Had she hit? The world was still a spinning jumble of lights when the concussion registered, a dull, ear-shattering THUD that seemed to swallow up every other sound. Yala glimpsed the faint glow around the cruiser shatter into a billion tiny particles and then vanish as fire tore through the main hull. A cheer went up around her: the rebels who had been firing from the rooftops.
Still reeling from the kickback, Yala let herself fall backward into the Music Hall as the Barons’ ship began to veer toward the ground.
Perfecto.
Max and Djinna made their way through the rubble backstage. The winding passageways were barely recognizable through all the smoke and debris, but eventually Max saw the men’s room door. Was this really happening? This was the door he’d gone through almost every year of his life, and now he was dodging laser beams to get to it.
“Max!”
He whirled around and saw Djinna staring at a pile of rubble a little farther down the hall. He was about to ask her what it was, but her face stopped him. Then he saw it: a pale hand sticking out from the crumbling plaster and stone. They both ran forward and tore at the rubble until they could see the arm, then the face. It was Deezer. He was dead.
Max stood up, panting and sweating. His arms were covered in dust and grit. His friend was lying dead at his feet. And explosions were still popping off all around him. Djinna looked up. “We have to get out of here.”
He didn’t want to leave Deezer like that, but there was nothing they could do. He didn’t even feel scared anymore. The sadness he’d expected seemed a million miles away. He just felt empty. “Alright,” Max said quietly. “Let’s go.”
Djinna took his hand, and they started back toward the dressing rooms. “We can try to come back when it’s safe.”
Max nodded. He wondered if he’d ever feel safe again.
Outside, people were rushing around and screaming. The cloud cruiser loomed overhead, smoke pouring off it as Cortinas’s gunners took rooftop potshots. Max looked for his mom and sister amidst the bustling throngs of Flood City folks. It was dark though and he could barely tell one from the other.
“I think they’re directing people into that alleyway,” Djinna said. And it was true: Some order was beginning to take shape from the rush of bodies. Max saw a few guys from the barbershop hovering a little above the crowd in their jetboots, waving people toward a narrow opening.
He looked at Djinna. She wore a tight frown, her eyebrows creased with determination. “Your dad?” Max said quietly.
Djinna shook her head. She was covered in dust and shaking but still looked so alive in the flickering blasts of the firefight. “He had to take care of some holograph issue,” she said. “It killed him to miss the pageant, but I guess really it saved him.”
Max nodded. “And Splink?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. We had an argument earlier tonight after he said he wasn’t sure if he could make it to the show. Because he had to get ready for deployment tomorrow.”
A strange mix of giddiness and concern flitted through Max’s brain. He tried to ignore it.
“So he’s probably fine.” Djinna didn’t sound too thrilled about it.
“You ready to make a run for it?” Max said. The cloud cruiser had swerved out of sight for the moment, but they could hear its damaged engines gurgling somewhere nearby.
“Let’s do it.”
They broke out across the open area. A few scattered people still ran back and forth, looking for loved ones, but most of Flood City had disappeared into various alleyways. It was a good thing Dr. Maceo was fixing the hologram transmitters, because there would surely be lots of chatter tonight. They’d made it about halfway across the square when the sky lit up. A bright red flare shot out from the Music Hall roof, sizzled over their heads, and smashed into the side of the cloud cruiser. The ship trembled, heaved forward, and then plummeted toward Flood City in a flaming mass of metal.
It was headed directly for Max and Djinna.
There was nowhere to run. The cloud cruiser was simply too big to escape; it was like trying to get away from a giant flaming building dropping out of the sky. Max felt his knees go weak. He grabbed Djinna’s hand, both of them knowing full well they weren’t going to make it, and together they kept running anyway.
Max could feel the air around him get hot as the thing barreled closer and then, very suddenly, everything went quiet and he was thrown backward and landed hard on something round and unforgiving. Djinna was beside him, looking just as confused as he was. They seemed to be inside some kind of bubble. The fighting was still raging on all sides, the cloud cruiser was still bursting toward them, but somehow they were safe. Or trapped.
Before Max could figure out which, the cloud cruiser smashed down over them and the bubble they were in went flying into the air. Max and Djinna somersaulted forward, smashing against the far edge, and then spun back. Max was vaguely aware of the city lights, the flashing laser fire, the flaming cloud cruiser, all spinning wildly around him. He thought he was going to be sick. Then they were plummeting, suddenly weightless—that charming feeling of impending death once again. Max closed his eyes, too terrified to bother vomiting, and with a magnificent jolt they smashed down into an alleyway and rolled to a stop.
“Wow!” Max said when the world slowed its frantic carouseling some.
Djinna was lying beside him. “Are we dead?”
“Nope. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t puke.”
“Good news. What happened?”
Max looked around. “I have no idea. Apparently a bubble ate us and then jumped into the sky.”
And just like that, the bubble slurped out of existence and the vapor who’d been in Max’s kitchen was hovering over them.
Max gaped at him. “You!” The same vapor who had played some mysterious role in Yala signing up for the Star Guard … and just saved Max’s life. “You.” Max had too many conflicting emotions to put any sentences together, so he just laid his head back down and concentrated on not puking.
“Biaque,” said the vapor. “At your service.”
Djinna sprang to her feet. “That was you … around us?”
Biaque nodded.
“You’re a … a vapor!”
Another nod. “We have some tricks up our sleeves.”
“But you were solid! And … round!”
“Well, our fibers are not a set consistency. That is, we have the ability to—”
“You saved our lives!”
He was about to shrug, but Djinna got to him first and wrapped her arms around his strange little nebular body. “Thank you!”
Max stood and nodded at the vapor. “Yeah, thank you.” He wasn’t sure what to do with his body—couldn’t quite bring himself to hug Biaque—so he just stood there fidgeting. “For saving us.”
Biaque swiped the air. “De nada. The least I could do. And there’s many more I couldn’t save. Come, young ones, we must be getting back. They’ll be needing help at the crash site, I imagine.”
They dusted themselves off and started down the circling alleyway toward the auditorium. Biaque went first, bobbling along like some strange little cloud and emitting a dim glow so he’d be easy to follow.
“Yala?” Max said, falling into stride beside the vapor.
“She was safe last I saw her. We returned to
the auditorium to look for you.”
Max swallowed hard. If anything had happened to her while she was trying to help him … he didn’t know what he’d do.
“She’s very good at surviving, your sister,” Biaque said.
“I know.”
“And I know, not everything feels like it makes much sense right now.”
“Try nothing at all.”
“Right. Take this, Max.” Biaque put a piece of crinkled paper in Max’s hand.
“What is it?”
“The number for the holodeck at the ocean liner. It’s where most of us vapors hang out—you can usually find me there. If you ever need anything, anything, find me there.”
Something about Biaque’s words sounded like a warning, but Max was too worn out to decipher what it might be. “Thanks, Biaque.”
They rounded a corner and saw the cloud cruiser sticking out of a pile of concrete that had once been a building. Scattered flames danced across its surface. Djinna walked up next to them, shaking her head.
“Good thing most people were out in the street,” she said.
Max didn’t know what to say.
Biaque floated toward the wreck. “Let’s go find your sister.”
Cortinas walked through the crowd of gaping bystanders. His rebel troops were trickling in from their battle positions, converging on the downed cloud cruiser with their weapons drawn. “Did anyone get out?” Cortinas asked a middle-aged woman who was just staring straight ahead with her mouth open.
She nodded without taking her eyes off the wreck. “A few people. They scattered almost as soon as it touched down.”
Cortinas whirled around and made eye contact with Tecla, his first lieutenant. He nodded at her, and she tapped two of the closest rebels and dashed off with them. Then he turned back to the woman. “How many? How many got out?”
She just shook her head. Cortinas growled and advanced on the ship. The flames were mostly dying on their own, and the basic structure of the thing was intact. The whole crew may have survived. The old barber grabbed a handhold and heaved himself onto the top of the cruiser. Then he unslung his slicer from his shoulder and leveled it at an open escape hatch. They’d have streamed out from there. This was a very high-level mission, so there had to have been at least one, maybe two, ArchBarons on board. He tightened his grip on the slicer and was about to step into the hatch when someone’s head appeared from within.
“Easy, old man!”
Cortinas lowered his slicer and exhaled. “Mateo! What are you doing in there? I almost blew you away, you ridiculous little man.” He offered a hand to his comrade and lifted him out of the cruiser.
“I saw the guys jet off as soon as the thing landed, but they were gone quick. Just evaporated into the city. So I figured I’d see who stayed behind.”
“Anyone down there?”
Mateo scowled. “No one alive. A couple of bodies. It’s pretty messy.”
Cortinas made a hand motion, and several of his troops swarmed onto the cruiser and disappeared down the hatch. “Thanks, Mateo. Did you happen to see which way they escaped to?”
“Like I said, they scattered in all directions. Just jetted off real quick, there was no chasing ’em.”
“Any ArchBarons?”
“Probably, yeah,” Mateo said. “One had a long flowing robe though. Looked irritated to no end. The rest pretty much seemed like grunts. And two youngsters that looked exactly the same.”
“Twins?”
“Or a real weird coincidence. But they left separately. One first, all by himself, and then the other went with the flowy fellow and a small band of gunners.”
Cortinas nodded. “Alright. I’m going after them.” He launched into the air and nearly smashed into the towering Star Guard captain who had just rounded the corner.
“Ah, Cortinas,” Captain Gorus said. “Just the man I was looking for. What’s the commotion?”
“If you have to ask me that,” Cortinas snarled, “then you don’t need to know.”
Captain Gorus’s smile faded fast. “Now look here, sir, we came to help as soon as we were alerted of the surprise attack.”
“Fine. You’re late. And I’m busy. Now if you’ll excuse me …” Cortinas jetted up, but the captain put out a hand, blocking his way.
“Not so fast, Cortinas. The Star Guard is imposing a general curfew in response to this attack. We ask that you report immediately to your domiciles and remain there for the course of the night so that calm may be restored to Flood City.”
“A curfew? You have got to be out of your tiny blue mind. There’s still wounded people lying in the street! Who’s going to—” Cortinas stopped talking. He knew the stubborn look on the captain’s face.
The captain sensed victory and tacked toward graciousness. “Please have your friends evacuate the premises immediately.” A big grin stretched across his face. Then, to Captain Gorus’s great displeasure, Cortinas grinned too.
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“No,” Cortinas said, still smiling. “No, I won’t tell my friends to evacuate and no, you don’t have my pardon. As a matter of fact”—he yanked a small walkie-talkie out of his vest—“come in, Tecla.”
“Go for Tecla,” a little voice scratched back.
“Under no circumstances are our people to leave this site until all casualties have been attended to and all booty looted from the wreck. Copy?”
“Copy.”
Cortinas pocketed the walkie-talkie and grinned at the captain.
“This is open dissent, Mr. Cortinas. Rebellion!”
“So it would seem.” Cortinas hovered in the air a few feet from the angry blue captain’s face. Down below, a hush had fallen over the crowd. All eyes turned expectantly to the Star Guard captain.
“You will be punished!”
“Only,” Cortinas said, powering up his jetboots, “if you can catch me.” And with a burst of light, he was gone.
Max found Yala sifting through the carnage scattered around one of the ruined buildings. He yelled her name, breaking into a run, and felt all his anger and bitterness become relief. Yala turned, saw her brother, smiled wide, and opened her arms to him. They hugged, long and hard, and Max realized he was crying. He tried to wipe his eyes on her shirt, hoping that Djinna wouldn’t notice from where she was standing.
“Hey,” Yala cooed. “Stop that. I told you I was going to be alright.”
“You said that about earlier. Then you were alright. Then everything went crazy again.”
“I know. I know. But I’m still alright. And so are you.”
Max nodded. He sniffled once, scrunched his face up and then released his sister. “You’re really leaving tomorrow, huh?”
“At sunrise.”
Djinna walked up behind Max and put a hand on his shoulder. Max felt little jolts of electricity shoot from her hand all the way across his body.
“Keep an eye on my little brother for me, okay, Djinna?”
Max cringed and rolled his eyes. Djinna laughed. “Will do, Yala. And you be careful.” She seemed to want to say something else, maybe mention Krestlefax’s one-word prophecy, but instead she just hugged Yala.
“C’mon, enough of all this lovey-dovey stuff,” Yala said. “We got a lot to do.”
They worked all night, lifting rocks, tending to survivors, finding shelter for the newly homeless. It seemed like almost all of Flood City was out that night, laughing in spite of the tragedy, finding ways to cheer one another on. Mr. Sanpedro showed up around four with a freshly baked batch of dougies. Every few hours, one of the Star Guard would trundle through and try to send everyone home, and then Old Man Cortinas would pop out of nowhere, do something wickedly mischievous, and disappear into the city again, forcing the blue giants to chase him.
As first light began to dawn over Flood City, the fires had all been put out and most of the debris dealt with. Fifteen people had died, counting the six found inside the cloud cruiser. The rest of
the Chemical Baron crew had vanished without a trace.
Max finished cleaning up a pile of debris, wiped his brow, and looked over at his sister. “It’s time,” he said.
She nodded, frowning. “Yep.”
“You ready?” Dr. Sarita said, walking over from the triage area, where she’d been treating cuts and bruises.
“Yeah. A little nervous, but I’ll be okay.”
Max had never heard his sister admit to being nervous before. She seemed to flow through any challenge with determined grace. “Okay,” he said, trying not to sound doubtful.
They powered up their jetboots and flew the short distance to the launchpad. The city was coming alive around them, that laid-back dawn light pushing off all the turmoil of the night before.
The Star Guard ship was a huge transport freighter. It looked like an ancient skyscraper knocked on its side—big, boring, and gray. Max and Dr. Sarita watched Yala walk up the gangway along with Splink and about a dozen other recruits. Max couldn’t help but feel like this giant flying monster was devouring his sister.
The ship grumbled, roared, and then sent blazes of fire exploding from its boosters. The crowd of family members and well-wishers took a few steps back so they wouldn’t be incinerated. For a second it seemed like the massive thing wouldn’t take off; it looked too big to fly. Max felt a guilt-ridden tinge of hope—maybe they’d just stay—but then it groaned and heaved itself up into the sky, only barely managing not to take out several buildings on the way, and shot off across the ocean.
Max jetted through the early morning streets of Flood City. The day after the pageant was always a quiet one, people sleeping off the night’s revelry, but this morning the place looked downright deserted. Dr. Sarita and the other medical teams had headed back to the hospital, hopefully to get some sleep between treating patients. And everyone else must’ve finally trudged off to bed, exhausted from all the fiery explosions and sorting through rubble.
Max usually treasured a perfectly quiet moment in Flood City—they seemed to be more and more rare with each passing year as the population grew and the city itself didn’t—but on this hazy morning he just felt lost. He could hear the waves crashing against the shoreline buildings, which usually brought him comfort but now just reminded him that his sister was gone, gone, gone to some unknown training camp across the water. Worst of all, Deezer’s lifeless, dusty face kept burning through his mind like a migraine. Surely Deezer’s parents had heard the news already. They’d be bawling perhaps, or maybe just sitting quietly in a state of total shock. It would be a burial at sea like all Flood City funerals, and along with it all the dreary chores death required of the living.
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