She chuckles, pushing past me to the corridor. “You forget. I may not be an agent, but I still work here. I can come and go as I please. I am a god among men. No, strike that. Goddess. Tremble in my wake.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I follow her into the corridor, staring at her moonlit face. “I swear I heard rumbling.”
“You’ve got an active imagination,” she replies. “I didn’t hear a thing.” She pauses, fumbling with her pockets before turning her attention back to me. “Nice shorts.”
I look down. They’re so baggy that they reach well past my knees. “They were Skandar’s once. He likes them… uh… roomy, I guess.”
“Right.” She yawns. “So what’s up? I hardly saw you today.”
I lean against the windowpane and push my thumb against the fiberglass. “Oh you know, the usual. Got yelled at in math for talking to Skandar. Got knocked out in Bunker Ball. Mr. Wilson said I had too much sympathy for the enemy, that I hesitated instead of ‘stickin it to him.’” I frown. “Wilson’s words. Not mine.”
Avery crouches at the edge of the corridor, her back to the stars. “Sometimes sympathy’s not such a bad thing. Missions aren’t easy when feelings are involved. Trust me.”
I sit next to her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs. “Just saying. Emotion compromises a person. You’ve gotta choose between your brain and your heart.” She smiles. “Heart should always win, I think.”
“I wasn’t emotional. I wanted to win that stupid game as much as anybody.”
“Yeah? Well, I want a flying dog that barks the alphabet backwards. Some things just ain’t gonna happen, kiddo.”
“Don’t call me kiddo,” I mutter.
She ignores me. “So what’s the real reason you’re up so late?”
I play with a loose thread on the bottom of my T-shirt. “Bad dreams, I guess.”
Avery nods. “Gotcha. After your little Surface adventure, I’m not surprised you’d have nightmares. Pearlhounds can be pretty scary.”
“You’ve fought them?”
She chuckles. “If running away is considered a form of combat, then yeah. It was my junior year, right after transferring from Mira. I hadn’t had much Surface experience so they stuck me with a few of the more promising students in my grade. It wasn’t a Fringe trade like you guys did yesterday. A Pearl had fallen outside of Tallahassee… pretty far from the nearest Chosen, so we thought we could grab it before the Pearlhounds showed up.” She smiles. “They swore we’d be able to handle it.”
I grin. “I’ve heard that one before.”
She nods. “You guys were lucky to get dropped up north. You wouldn’t have believed the bugs, Jesse. Clouds of them. We had face masks, gloves-covered from head to toe. You’d think the insects would have been enough to keep the government at bay, but Madame’s people locked onto the Pearl’s trail and showed up fifteen minutes after our shuttle landed. We bolted. Sometimes running is the only way to stay alive. Like I said before: there’s more to life than Pearls.”
“You ran away? You guys didn’t even try to fight them for the Pearl?”
“I convinced my crew that it was the best decision. From a tactical standpoint, of course. Really, I was just scared.”
I shake my head, laughing. “I bet Alkine was pissed.”
She grins. “And did I care? Not really. See, Jesse? You’re not Skyship Academy’s biggest screw-up. I’ll totally own the title. No worries.”
I stare at her face. Her green eyes glint in the moonlight. “You’ve got grease or something on your cheek.”
“Do I?” Her brows furrow as she reaches up to rub her face.
“You and Phoebe doing arts and crafts?”
She wipes off the rest of the dark grease with her finger and smears it on her jeans, frowning. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“I’m headed to the rec rooms. Wanna watch a movie or something?”
She pulls herself from the ground. “It’s late, Jesse. I should be going. You need to sleep.”
I sigh. The last thing I want to do is go back to my tiny, messy room and sleep.
Avery stretches and yawns. “See you tomorrow?”
“Sure.” I give a slight smile. She starts off along the corridor. Another minute and she’s gone.
10
Cassius arrived on Skyship Atlas late the next afternoon. The enormous ship, located directly above the dark ruins of Washington D.C., functioned as the Seps’ East Coast stronghold. Their capital city, if one could truly call the flying fortress a city. Madame had piloted them up from the Lodge herself, taking the opportunity to point out Surface landmarks along the way: notable Fringe Towns, the Appalachian colonies.
After landing in Atlas’s docking bay, they were ushered through security checks. Madame’s bodyguard stayed close to her the entire time, eyeing the scanners as Skyship guards analyzed her briefcase. When they were given clearance to go forward, a guide escorted them through a crowd of barely contained protestors and into the next corridor. Cassius tried to ignore the angry shouts of the Shippers as he passed, keeping his face forward the entire time.
Now the four of them stood inside a spacious elevator, traveling up to the Tribunal Building on Atlas’s main level.
From what Cassius had seen earlier from the cruiser window, Atlas was a vast gray triangle, suspended impossibly in the middle of the sky. Pearl Power kept it aloft. Stolen, no doubt.
The inside corridors were well-maintained, with careful attention to details. Modernized Renaissance columns and arches gave the ship a bizarre, avant-garde aesthetic.
Madame leaned closer to him. “Dramatic, isn’t it? These ships were our last great masterstroke before we were forced to refocus our efforts. A pity they were taken over by the Seps.”
Their escort flashed Madame a dirty look but stayed quiet, turning away to face the elevator doors. A noticeable tension filled the elevator, the whirring of gears above them the only sound. Cassius fidgeted with the black bag slung over his shoulder. Passport. Pistol. Suit. Somehow it had all made it through security undetected. Madame knew what she was doing.
The elevator came to a stop and the doors pulled open, revealing a large plaza. They marched along the marble stonework at a hurried pace. Madame ignored the guide, taking the lead and sizing up the approaching Tribunal Building like it was an enemy to be defeated. Cassius gazed up at the clear sky. Though he knew there was a large dome stabilizing the air pressure around them, it was invisible from the ground, leaving the air open and uncluttered. No Bio-Net, no chemical smog. He expected to feel dizzy from the altitude. The dome controlled that as well.
He caught quick glances at the city as he followed Madame. Everything hunkered low to the ground. The tallest building he could see was only three levels high. There appeared to be roads, but no cars or chute system like in the Chosen Cities. The only vehicles were small buggies, no bigger than golf carts, that whizzed silently across the plaza. He avoided eye contact with the drivers.
They continued around an impressive, three-tiered fountain and advanced onto a narrow, tree-lined pathway that led to the two-story Tribunal Building. It had been modeled after the White House, of course. A mini version.
“One last security measure,” their guide stammered as he regained the lead and ushered them up a staircase. Three bulky security guards patted them down at the top before they were allowed into the building. Cassius winced, convinced that they’d find the disassembled pistol sewn into his pack. But they moved quickly, brushing against the three pieces, assuming they were part of the reinforced corners of the pack. Madame was right. They were easily fooled.
Madame wore a disgusted expression as the guard touched her. Once cleared, she pushed past their escort and stepped into the entryway, heading up a second set of decorative stairs.
