here. That’s what you did, right?”
“Yes, but… it hurt!”
“So then, let’s not get killed.”
I ran for the train. A quick look back told me Patrick was doing the same. The train was picking up speed. If we were going to jump on, it would have to be right away. The only place that seemed logical to do it was the space between the two passenger cars. I sprinted to the spot where I guessed it would be when I reached the train, and miscalculated by a few feet. The train was accelerating faster than I thought. Instead of grabbing on to the platform between the two cars, I grabbed on to a chunk of the decorative sculpture that was affixed to the side of the train. I trusted it was strong enough to hold me. I jumped, using my arms to climb the sculpture like a jungle gym. I found myself dangling off the side of the train car as it gathered speed. My idea suddenly didn’t seem so bright. I looked back to see Patrick sprinting to catch up. I didn’t think there was any way he would climb up the way I did, so I made my way forward, scrambling carefully along the sculpture until I reached the front of the car. From there I swung my legs over the safety rail, onto the small platform in between. I was on!
“Let’s go!” I yelled to Patrick.
The train was speeding up. Patrick wasn’t.
“Can we please just turn into birds?” he gasped.
“No! Pick it up!” I yelled.
Patrick dug in and sprinted forward. He reached out to me. I grabbed his hand and strained to hoist him up and onto the platform. We were on. That was the easy part. We still had to get past the wall, and the guards. We both crouched down, so as not to be seen from inside either car.
“I hope this wasn’t a mistake,” he wheezed.
Mistake or not, we were on our way. The monorail train continued on toward the mysterious wall.
“What do we do if we get in?” Patrick whispered.
“Let’s worry about that once we’re in,” I answered.
Truth was, I had no idea what we would do. Or what we would find. Though I felt certain we were in the right place. Whatever this monster wall was, whether it was keeping somebody in or out, it had to have something to do with Saint Dane. That much I was sure about.
A moment later we arrived at the massive wall. I held my breath, as if that would do any good. We both pushed ourselves flat against the platform to try and look as inconspicuous as possible. Neither of us moved. Patrick looked one way, I looked the other. When we reached the entrance, I saw two Ravinians standing next to the track, looking the other way. I winced, expecting an alarm to go off. Or a guard to shout that there were stowaways sneaking in.
There were no alarms. We weren’t seen. Seconds later we glided through the door and into another world.
Chapter 10
The first thing I noticed was the smell.
It was good. Sweet even. Until I caught a whiff of the air beyond that wall, I hadn’t realized how truly dead the city we had just left had become. On this side of the wall, the world smelled alive. It gave me hope that we hadn’t entered a prison. Or one of the Horizon Compounds. The smell alone told me that this was a better place than the one we had left. The golden train glided slowly over the single rail, bringing us deeper into this new and mysterious place.
“We gotta get off,” I whispered to Patrick. “This thing is probably headed toward somewhere with people. Until we know whose side they’re on, we better be invisible.”
Patrick nodded and looked over the safety rail of the moving platform. He swallowed hard. He wasn’t thrilled about having to jump off a moving train.
“Don’t think about it,” I warned. “Go.”
I grabbed the rail with both hands, jumped up, and launched myself up and over with both my legs to one side, like vaulting over a pommel horse in gymnastics. I hit the ground and rolled backward to absorb the shock. It was disorienting, but I bounced back to my feet quickly and turned toward the train to spot Patrick. He wasn’t as quick about it as I was. He stood grasping the handrail, looking nervous, moving away. I wanted to shout “Jump!” but I was afraid of who might hear. All I could do was will him to move.
He did. It wasn’t exactly graceful. He landed on one leg, tumbled sideways, and fell on his shoulder. Ouch. I ran to him, hoping that he wasn’t hurt. Of course, I knew if something had happened, I could fix it. A healing Traveler hand would do the trick. But that would have sapped more strength from Solara.
“You okay?” I asked.
Patrick sat up, rubbing his sore shoulder. “It would have been easier to turn into birds,” he complained.
I didn’t argue the point. He knew what was at stake. I think he was just complaining for the sake of it. That was okay. He deserved to. The train kept moving. No alarm was sounded. No shouts of “Hey! Who are you guys?” Wherever we were, we had arrived unnoticed. I realized that we were sitting on grass. Soft, green grass. It was a welcome, physical sign of life. There would be more. Many more.
“Wow,” Patrick said. “I didn’t expect this.”
That was an understatement. Once the train cleared our field of view, we got a good look at our surroundings. I don’t know what better word to use to describe what we saw other than “beautiful.” Okay, maybe I can think of a few others. Lush. Green. Idyllic. Maybe even perfect. We were sitting next to the single rail that cut through an absolutely spectacular park. At least, I thought it was a park. There were leafy trees, a meadow covered in wildflowers, a narrow stream that meandered quietly along the length of the track, songbirds darting about, and sculptures. Many sculptures. A few yards from the side of the track there was a massive white statue of a naked guy. It was like three times life-size. It was awesome, in more ways than one.
“David,” Patrick said with a gasp.
”Who?”
“It’s the statue of David by Michelangelo. It’s a pretty good replica.”
“Maybe it’s the real one,” I suggested.
“That’s impossible. The David is in Florence, Italy. It’s eight thousand years old; it would never be here and definitely not kept outside like this.” He gave me a dark look and added, “At least, I hope not. The David is one of the great art treasures of all time.”
We crossed over the rail and found a path that wandered through the grounds. We passed many other elaborate sculptures and fountains and footbridges that spanned lazy brooks. Oddly, the air was clear and the sky was blue. I wondered how they were able to keep the dirt and grime that swirled through the air outside from descending here.
“It’s like paradise,” Patrick said.
“It definitely isn’t one of those Horizon Compounds,” I added. “That answers one question. The wall is to keep people out, because I can’t imagine anybody wanting to leave this place. Especially knowing what’s outside.”
We passed a few buildings, though calling them “buildings” doesn’t come close to describing them. They were more like palaces. Or mansions. Whoever lived there was definitely living large.
Eventually we saw people. At first we hid behind trees, so as not to be seen, but we soon realized it wasn’t necessary. There were kids playing touch football on grassy flats.
Couples strolled around, holding hands. Mothers pushed baby carriages. It all looked so normal, like a park. A really incredible park. I was still wearing the brown sweater and khakis I had glommed from the Chetwyndes’ boat on Second Earth. Patrick wore jeans and a blue short-sleeved shirt, which is exactly what he was wearing the day I met him. Oddly, our clothes were totally clean. Except for whatever dirt we’d picked up on our trip from the zoo, it was like our visit to Solara had refurbished everything. The people we saw wore a variety of normal-looking Earth clothing. This could have been a park on Second Earth, which meant we didn’t stand out.
Besides seeing the people who were enjoying the day, we also saw workers. They wore dark green khaki uniforms with short pants and pith helmets. I didn’t think they were dados because they didn’t all look the same.
