Crystal Keepers (15 page)

“It's kind of a mix,” Trickster said. “Don't think of it as a certain type of meat or it seems gross. Consider it a highly processed celebration of all meat.”

Cole tried a bite. It was more tender and juicy than he expected, tasting more like sausage than steak. “Not bad.”

“If you want food fresh from a farm, Zeropolis is the wrong place to find it,” Scandal said. “But we have abundant food, it doesn't cost much, it tastes pretty good, and unlike a lot of the processed food in your world, it's highly nutritious.”

Cole sampled the potatoes. They didn't quite taste real, but they had a nice buttery, cheesy flavor. He had never been a fan of green beans, but he tried to eat some to be polite.

“I like the drink,” Dalton said, taking a long sip.

“Me too,” Roulette said. “Limelicious. Sweet but not too sweet.”

“And lots of vitamins,” Scandal said.

As the food began to settle, Cole could feel the busy day catching up with him. Had he woken up today at that inn in Outpost 121? It felt like that had happened in another lifetime. His eyes were droopy.

“Let me take care of the plates,” Scandal said. “You guys
must be exhausted. We're not fancy here, but a good hammock can be pretty comfy.”

Cole followed her down a hall to a room with several hammocks at different heights. The room was kind of dumpy, the paint on the wooden walls stained and peeling, but the hammocks looked clean.

“We have several guest rooms,” Scandal said. “Take your pick.”

“Mind if I join you, Trickster?” Jace asked.

“Not a bit,” he said.

“Dalton and I will take this one,” Cole said.

“Sleep well,” Scandal said. “You'll be safe here. Let me know if you need anything.”

Cole and Dalton went into their room. Dalton closed the door.

“Tired?” Cole asked.

“I feel like I just stumbled away from a plane crash,” Dalton said.

“Me too,” Cole said, flopping into a hammock. It swayed and creaked. He stared at the ceiling.

“How do we take off our exo rigs?” Dalton asked.

Cole laughed sleepily. “I have no idea. Hopefully I don't do karate moves in my sleep.”

“Or jump.”

“Maybe the gear will help us sleep extra well.”

“Enhanced sleeping? Why not? The rigs improve everything else.”

“Don't you want to see how high we can jump in them?” Cole asked.

“No way,” Dalton said. “I'd rather keep both my feet.”

Cole winced. “Can you imagine having part of your leg ripped off? Roulette is hard core.”

“They all are,” Dalton said. “It's like we joined up with organized crime.”

“When the government is crooked, the outlaws can be the good guys. Like Robin Hood.”

Dalton sighed. “Are we going to be outlaws the rest of our lives?”

“Depends if the revolution succeeds.”

“Is it really our revolution?”

“You tell me. You're the slave.”

“I'm serious,” Dalton said.

“Me too. As long as we can't get home, it's our revolution. And I may have an important part to play.”

Dalton snorted. “According to the evil creature from another world who got locked up for trying to take over the Outskirts.”

“Right,” Cole said drowsily. “According to him.”

“Did you notice that hanging out with Mira got us in trouble again?”

“It also helped us find people to get us out of trouble. Do you think the Unseen would have done all this for us without Mira?”

“Probably not,” Dalton said. “But we might not have been in trouble in the first place.”

“With all we've learned, we might get chased just as much with or without her,” Cole said. “We're in pretty deep. Do you really want to leave her?”

Dalton paused. “I don't think so. I just don't want to forget our real goal—to find our friends and get home.”

Cole stared hard at the ceiling, mapping the discolorations. “Helping Mira is part of my goal now, Dalton. Trillian thinks I'm key to her winning. He's creepy, but he supposedly can't lie. Think about it. If Mira defeats her dad, we'll be able to free all the kids who got taken and actually keep them safe. And we'll have major resources to maybe find a way home.”

“Seems like we spend most of our time running,” Dalton said. “Is beating her father even possible?”

“If not, we at least try to save Mira. Maybe one of these days it will make sense to take off on our own. Until then, we help however we can. Or at least I will. What about you?”

“It's all good as long as we stay free and can keep fighting. But what if we get captured? We came pretty close today to spending the rest of our lives imprisoned.”

“It's not a game,” Cole agreed. “We could get killed. We could become prisoners. But they already took away our lives and our families. They already made us slaves. If we have a chance to fix things, I'm going to take it.”

“That's why I'm here,” Dalton said.

“Maybe we'll get some answers tomorrow,” Cole said. “Maybe we'll even find Jenna.”

“You sound sleepy.”

“I'm pretty far gone. You're mostly talking to my subconscious.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“If I ever wake up.”

Sleep came almost instantly.

C
HAPTER

14

SUBSTITUTES

Subject: Life and Death

Dear Mom, Dad, and Chelsea,

Please read this! I'm sending it from our family account, so maybe you'll open it. Or maybe nobody pays much attention to the family account anymore, since you all have your own e-mail addresses. You mainly had the family one for me, because you didn't want me to have my own address yet.

You're probably wondering who I am. I'm your lost son, Cole Randolph. You don't remember me, but I used to live with you up until last Halloween. I got kidnapped with a bunch of other kids in the neighborhood and we were all forgotten.

I used to be in the room by the bathroom, across from the spare bedroom. I don't know if you use
my room for something else now, or if you just never go in there. A bunch of my stuff should be around if you haven't thrown it out. Pay attention and you might notice my soccer things (uniform, cleats, shin guards, trophies), or my schoolbooks, or maybe my video games.

Anyhow, that stuff is around because you used to have a son named Cole. A sixth grader. Me.

I was taken to a world in another universe called the Outskirts. That's why I didn't take out the trash on Halloween. I really meant to. But I got kidnapped.

I love you and am sorry about all the times I made you mad or did dumb stuff. I even love Chelsea.

You probably won't read this. And if you do, you probably won't understand or will think it sounds crazy. But you have a kid or brother named Cole. I'm in a bunch of the family photos. If you focus, maybe you'll notice me.

I'm trying to get home. I miss you.

Love,

Cole

After reading the e-mail for the tenth time, Cole felt he had rid it of typos and expressed what he wanted to say. Arrow hovering over the send button, Cole checked the e-mail addresses one more time. It would send to his dad, his mom, his sister, and also back to the family account.

He clicked send.

A long examination of the family account inbox had shown no mention of him after Halloween. The days following the holiday had only routine messages. There was nothing in social media about his disappearance. Nothing in the news. The mass kidnapping had gone unnoticed, all of the kids forgotten.

Would somebody open his e-mail? His family had forgotten about him, but the e-mail wasn't coming from him. They should each think it came from some other member of the family. He also sent the e-mail to the family account, even though the inbox had many unopened e-mails. Based on what Joe had told him, his would join the disregarded spam. But he had to try.

Cole wondered if it would help to send the e-mail a hundred times. Could they ignore a hundred of the same e-mail? Or would that make it seem even more like spam?

“Has e-mail ever looked so good?” Dalton asked, surprising Cole.

Cole turned. Dalton smiled awkwardly and waved. He wore a weathered green denim jacket, black trousers, and cowboy boots. His hair was buzzed short and had simple images engraved in it.

“Are you filming a music video?” Cole asked.

Dalton rubbed his head self-consciously. “I've never had my hair this short. I like how it feels.”

“Turn around,” Cole said.

Dalton complied. He had what looked like a sun on one side of the back of his head, and an anchor on the other.

“Your head is all marked up. Did Roulette do that? Or were you mugged?”

“Ha-ha,” Dalton said. “You're next.”

“I thought they might be scars from this morning,” Cole said.

Dalton's face got angry. Not long after daybreak, when he had rolled out of his hammock, Dalton had flopped headfirst to the floor. Somebody had tied his shoelaces to the netting of the hammock. Jace was the natural suspect. “I'll get him back.”

“Might be smarter to call it even.”

“I'll get him back,” Dalton said with increased determination. “Did you e-mail your family?”

“I had to try.”

“I'll try too. Just in case. Did you find any info about us? Any news about a kidnapping?”

“None,” Cole said. “As far as the Internet knows, we never disappeared. It's just like we were warned—nobody misses us.”

“Isn't it weird to see a computer here?” Dalton asked.

“It's too much like home,” Cole said. “I don't really envision the Rogue Knight on a PC. Forge said the thruport machines especially are modeled after the computers in our world so they can run the same software. He said some of our designs
influenced their designs here. Like mouses. They had great tech here, but no mouses until they saw us using them.”

“Don't think you can hide,” Roulette said, entering the room with scissors in hand. “Doesn't Dalton look tidy?”

“He definitely looks different,” Cole said. “Are you going to shave my head and graffiti my scalp too?”

“Don't mock it,” Roulette said. “Dalton looks like a real Zeropolite. You will too, but I'll take your look in a different direction. Come on.”

“Good luck,” Dalton said.

Cole rubbed Dalton's bristly head with both hands, then followed Roulette into another room where a chair awaited. Hair clippings littered the floor.

Jace walked in and Cole reflexively laughed. Jace's hair had been bleached blond and spiked up with styling gel. Symbols were sloppily painted on his brown leather jacket, and he wore safety pins in his earlobes. His jeans had several patches, and his eyes were now blue.

“Yuck it up,” Jace said. “You're next.”

“Are the pins real?” Cole asked, reaching to touch one.

“Trickster dared me,” Jace said, swatting his hand away.

“Dalton looks cool,” Roulette said. “Jace looks hot.”

“Okay, now I feel awkward,” Jace said, turning around and leaving.

“What do you say, Cole?” Roulette asked. “Want to top his earpins? How about a bolt through your nostrils?”

“No new holes in my body,” Cole said.

“Okay,” Roulette said. “I can probably still give you some style.”

“I guess I could use a haircut,” Cole admitted. “And I need to look different.”

“Have a seat,” Roulette said, her grin somewhere between delighted and predatory.

Cole proceeded through a long, mirrorless process of Roulette washing his hair, cutting it, putting chemicals on it, and covering it in a plastic sack. When he grew fidgety, Roulette ordered him to sit still. When he complained about odd smells, she shushed him. He had never loved getting his hair cut, and this was taking much longer than usual.

In the end, Roulette gave him a hand mirror. His hair was now pure black and neatly trimmed. “The black is different, but it's not bad. I kind of like it.”

“You have the kindest face, so I made you our pretty boy,” Roulette said.

Cole squirmed. “Don't repeat that in front of Jace. Names like that can stick.”

“I'll get you some clothes,” she said.

As Roulette left the room, Mira entered. Her hair was longer and a rich shade of lavender. She wore tights under a mid-length skirt. Her short, black leather jacket fit snugly.

“You look good!” Mira said.

“So do you,” Cole replied. “A little like an anime character, but not in a bad way.”

“That's what I was going for,” Roulette announced, returning to the room. “I love anime. Watching shows from your world is the best use of thruports.”

“Anime?” Mira asked.

“Japanese cartoons,” Cole said. “Like moving pictures.
A lot of the characters in them have colorful hair.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Mira said.

“Did Forge snap your photo?” Roulette asked.

“He made me squint and squish my lips together,” Mira said. “He checked the photo on my old ID and wanted the opposite expression. Jace and Dalton are done too.”

“Then they're waiting for Cole,” Roulette said. She waved a hand. “Shoo, Secret, so he can change. I'll clear out too.” Roulette gave Cole the clothes she had collected. “Come join us when you're ready.”

Left alone with his new clothes, Cole changed quickly. His new outfit included black jeans, a white shirt, a black denim vest, and gray shoes. Using the hand mirror and looking down at himself, Cole thought he looked less weird than Dalton or Jace. It was a fairly cool outfit.

The others were waiting when he emerged. Jace looked especially disappointed.

“He looks too normal,” Jace complained.

“He looks
different
,” Roulette said. “That's the point. I didn't have to make all of you equally edgy.”

“You promised to talk to him about a nose bolt,” Jace grumbled.

“I did,” Roulette said. “He vetoed it. So I went more conservative.”

“We had veto power?” Dalton asked.

“You look nice, Cole,” Mira said.

The comment pleased Cole more than he wanted anyone to know. “I'm supposed to take an ID photo?”

“Over here,” Forge said. “Stand there.”

Cole had handed over his ID card in the morning so Forge could study it. Forge picked it up and took one more look.

“You have a very normal smile here,” Forge said. “The image is framed tight on your face, so I'll give your head some room in this new one. Let's go serious. Frown a little. Scowl, lower your eyebrows a bit. Hmmm. Keep the frown but raise your eyebrows. Okay, good. Think of something that disgusts you. Or something that makes you angry. Turn your head a little to the left. Good. Drop your chin a little. Remember, eyebrows up. Don't frown too deep. It has to be subtle. Good. Got it.”

“I'm done?” Cole asked.

“Success,” Forge said. “You're now Steve Rigby. It's your face, but it'll be a chore to match this to your old photo. You guys owe Roulette. She did great work.”

“Almost a changing,” Dalton said.

“Not far off,” Forge replied with a chuckle. “All right, getting these IDs printed up won't take long. While I have you four gathered together, I better mention something. Joe is being transferred this evening to Holding Area 11. If they get him in there, I'm not sure we can get him out. So we have to intercept him today. But there's a problem.”

“What?” Mira asked, anxious.

“A lot of our communications network is down right now,” Forge said. “Several people got caught fleeing the raid yesterday, which means we lost crystals, including some that are linked to crucial networks. We need to make a big new batch of communicators using different harmonics. Until then, Googol and I don't know where most of our people who escaped are hiding. We can't contact the personnel
needed to carry off the rescue. If that holds true until this evening, we're going to need Roulette, Trickster, and a pair of substitutes to carry it off.”

“You know I'm in for whatever Googol wants,” Roulette said.

“Same,” Trickster agreed.

“You need some of us?” Jace asked hopefully.

“Not Secret,” Forge clarified. “But we'll need—”

“Yes,” Jace said. “Me. Absolutely.”

“I like the passion,” Forge said. “I was going to say, we need two people to fill support roles. These positions are somewhat removed from actually taking Joe from his vehicle, but will be necessary to ensure success. You'll be exposed to capture. The danger is real. You'll need full battle suits and warboards. If we can find somebody else with more experience between now and this evening, we won't use you.”

“I'm one for sure,” Jace said.

Cole looked at Dalton. His friend appeared uncertain. “Do the battle suits jump like the exo rigs?” Cole asked.

“Better,” Forge said. “The battle suits do everything the rigs can and more.”

“I'm your other volunteer,” Cole said. He couldn't let Joe remain a prisoner. Thanks to his experiences with the Jumping Sword, he felt confident he could at least master jumping effectively with the battle suit.

“Can I help too?” Dalton asked.

“You'll stay here with me and Secret,” Forge said. “I may need some support once the operation kicks into gear. Googol and I will both lend help remotely.”