Strikeforce (12 page)

23

Somehow, without Cassius even realizing it, his eyes had closed. He had succumbed to the Fringes. After all that running—daring escapes, the battle with the Shifters—the desert had swallowed him up.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but certainly long enough for Surface Stroke to have set in. It was the number one rule in the Fringes: don't give up. Don't close your eyes.

But he wasn't dead. Death would carry with it less pain—a pleasant numbness, he imagined. He felt the dull aches flare up around his body, sometimes in the same spot, other times in completely different areas. His skin throbbed with the heat of a bad sunburn. He was still lying on his back, arms at his sides, but not on the ground.

He opened his eyes to find a large panel stretched over him, several inches from his body. It wasn't metal. He could tell that immediately. Maybe some sort of reinforced foam.

His back rested against a slab of the same material. Yeah, it had to be foam of some sort. Whatever it was, it didn't conduct heat. If anything, it was pleasantly warm. He ran his fingers along the material. Lightweight, slightly porous. It had been constructed specifically to endure the heat.

Between the roof and the floor of the coffin-sized container, Cassius could see a thin stripe of empty space through which he watched the brown dirt of the Fringes speed by. It startled him at first. A roll to either side would send him through the narrow slit onto the ground, but whatever device or vehicle he lay captive to was moving too fast. Hitting the dirt would surely break a bone or two. Plus, he'd only roll back into the Fringes.

The slit of empty space did have its use, though. Air streamed through on both sides of him, made cooler by the rapid forward motion of the strange casket.

He took a deep breath, shaking his arms and legs to make sure they still worked. There weren't any ropes or shackles keeping him in place. In fact, the entire structure seemed overly flimsy, like it could give way at any moment if he made the wrong move.

But Cassius wasn't about to lie back and wait.

Bending his knees, he raised his feet and kicked at the overhead panel. Without much resistance at all, the entire thing flipped open. He craned his neck to watch hinges above his head squeal shut. The panel retreated out of sight, revealing a solid rectangle of blue sky.

He bounded up from his back, crouching on bent knees—and almost toppled forward, right into the desert.

He perched at the back end of some sort of vehicle. Two identical holding cells flanked him, one on either side. The back end of the transport formed a three-pronged pitchfork. Cassius crouched in the center, staring out at the rapidly passing landscape. There were no cities in sight. Not even Fringe Towns. Only endless brown.

Keeping his balance, he peered around the edge of the flipped-over panel to see a pair of drivers. They sat in low-backed chairs, side by side behind a wide steering wheel. The entire vehicle looked like some thrown-together shuttle. But instead of flying, they hovered several feet from the ground.

A skimmer.

He'd seen such technology from the Unified Party, used when shuttle travel was too burdensome or risky. But from the looks of it, this skimmer had been tinkered with, which meant that those probably weren't Unified Party drivers at the helm.

He crouched low again, eager not to be seen. He was surprised that the drivers hadn't noticed the overhead hatch fly open. Then again, the noise from the wind as they cut through the Fringe Desert was loud enough to cover up most other sounds. He hadn't gotten a chance to look, but he wouldn't be surprised if the drivers were wearing earplugs of some sort.

He glanced from side to side at the two chambers that bordered his. Madame and Eva. It had to be. Neither were awake, though. Both of their hatches stayed firmly in place.

His mind flashed back to the disappearing Authority vessel they'd come from. He felt around in his pockets, searching for senso-cubes. Two handfuls remained. Whoever was driving the skimmer must have picked them up quickly, not even taking time to search them. But why?

In truth, he wasn't so interested in the whys. His captors had transport out of the Fringes. He was alive. Now only one question remained: should he try to bring down the drivers and take control of the skimmer, or play dead and wait to see where they were being taken?

He reached up and pulled the panel back into place, hoping the drivers wouldn't see it moving. He'd learn more if he waited, though it killed him to do it. Plus, it would give Madame and Eva time to wake up. He'd keep his guard up and be ready to attack if the situation called for it. After all, his body needed rest. He didn't trust that he'd be able to put up much of a fight in his current state.

He lay down, resting his hands against his thighs. The tips of his fingers brushed across the outline of the senso-cubes in his pocket. Unable to resist, he pulled one free and held it above his head, inches from his face.

It was only slightly bigger than a six-sided die, with ornate lines carved into its surface. Last time one of these had activated, it had been just as Fisher and he were falling out of a ship in the middle of the sky. It froze them—seemed to freeze time itself.

Cassius wasn't sure exactly how it had activated, just as he wasn't sure how he'd moved the walls of the Authority vessel hours ago or how the entire thing had seemingly crumbled into nothing. Elements native to Haven seemed far more malleable than ones on Earth.

As he was considering this, a flash of light overtook the chamber. The cube, through no fault of his own, had activated.

His head spun, giving him the sensation of movement even though he knew that his body remained in the vehicle, completely still.

When the disorientation concluded, he stood at the edge of a vast pit of darkness. A black sea stretched before him, small enough to swim across, but just barely.

He spun to see what looked like miniature gray mountains all around him. The landscape reminded him of pictures he'd seen of the bottom of the ocean. Desertlike, but wholly different from the Fringes. And despite the large pool of darkness before him, everything else looked so dry that it could crumble.

Complicated, curling sculptures of porous rock created a landscape without any flat surfaces. Cassius took a step forward and felt the brittle ground underfoot. He turned his attention back to the deep blackness before him. He recognized the material instantly. Ridium. He stood beside a pit of it.

He'd heard others talk about the Ridium pits on the southern end of Haven. This was where the element came from, before Matigo and the Authority had depleted it. But the real question was, why was he seeing this now? If the memory had been kept captive by the Authority, it had to have some meaning.

His surroundings were completely silent. Even the Ridium, which bubbled every once and awhile, remained quiet. He stared into the abyss, wondering how deep it stretched. If he were to step inside, would he sink or be able to stand on top of it?

Just then, he noticed a man in the distance, slowly walking along the shore of the Ridium pit. He hadn't moved up until now. His dark-gray garb blended almost too well with the rocks. Cassius crouched instinctively. He had to remind himself that he was as good as invisible inside thi
s memory.

Taking a deep breath, he ventured forward, watching his step as he looked for safe, relatively flat, places to put his feet.

With every step, the man drew closer. His graying hair belied his body, which was tall and fit. In some ways, he reminded Cassius of Fisher's Captain Alkine. The man had obviously seen battle. Or at the very least, rigid training exercises.

When the man's toes were close enough to touch the Ridium, he stretched his arm out to his side. Cassius watched as his wrist began to move. The man's hand looped in circles, faster and faster until it seemed like it would spin off. Cassius had never seen someone move in this way. The rest of the man's body remained completely still. It was as if his hand was possessed.

The Ridium trembled before forming waves, which crashed onto the rocky structures, swallowing the man's feet. He seemed to be unfazed by it, continuing to twirl his hand as the Ridium coursed over the landscape.

Cassius watched in horror as the substance ate away at the rock beneath it, swallowing entire structures whole. Within moments, the man had carved a sizable swath of flat, lifeless ground. As he guided the Ridium back into the pit, he left the scenery decimated. If Cassius had been standing closer—if this had been more than a memory—he would have likely been covered as well. Smothered, even.

He'd seen this type of thing happen before, up on Skyship Altair, when Theo had dismantled all of the ship's circuitry by sending Ridium coursing along the ground. Was this a clue as to what the Authority was planning? The way the black stuff ran down the sides of their vessel and burrowed into the ground in the Fringes—would it come back up again to smother everything in sight? The Authority had already prevented ships from flying. If people couldn't get off the ground, there'd be no place to escape it. Everyone would be buried.

With this thought, the memory whisked away from him. The landscape disappeared like a runny watercolor painting and his eyes opened, revealing the tight chamber inside the skimmer yet again. Surprised by his sudden line of thought, he dropped the senso-cube. It hit his chest and rolled down his side, sucked out of the opening between the chamber's panels. Cassius didn't try to hold onto it.

The image lingered with him. He imagined Ridium coursing along the ground of the Fringes. A flood. There'd be no surviving it.

He'd stay silent, but alert. Whoever their drivers were, they had to stop somewhere. When they did, he'd be ready. Flood or no flood, the Authority was going down—one foot soldier at a time.

24

“Captain Alkine.”

The words stick in my throat. They feel old, like remnants from another life.

I take a deep breath, tapping my fingers on the side of the communicator.

Avery rubs my knee. “Do you trust him?”

I shoot her a confused look. I keep forgetting that when she was back at the Academy, it was as a double agent for Madame. Sure, Alkine and I have history, but I don't think she's ever felt comfortable with him.

“Listen to your friend,” Savon says. “Running away is not an option.”

“He never said anything about running away,” I reply.

My father shakes his head. “We have a plan.”

“Yeah,” Skandar laughs. “And it involves rolling across the entire country at about forty miles an hour. Some plan.”

“They have a Skyship,” I add.

Avery's brows rise. “Provided it stays airborne. And provided Captain Alkine doesn't try to hold you hostage again.”

“Cassius is more powerful than any ship,” Savon says.

I glance at him. “You mean that?”

“Every word.”

I shrug. “I know what he can do—”

“You don't,” he interrupts. “You've seen a fraction of it, maybe. It's the same with you, Jesse. You didn't know you could use the Pearl energy to fly until I taught you. There's more inside of both of you than you'll ever know. I need my boys at my side. Not some human-made ship.”

Skandar stretches. “No offense, man, but have you ever
seen
a Skyship before?”

Savon ignores him, standing and striding to the control deck.

I set the communicator aside. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing if we can speed this up.”

“We can't,” Avery responds. “Trust me, if we could, I would've done it already.”

My father shakes his head, hands resting on the edge of the console. “Human technology,” he mutters. “We're a rolling appetizer for any squadron of foot soldiers that find us. There was a time back on Haven—before you were born, Jesse—when a Resistance transport vehicle was set upon by a horde of Matigo's men. Their weaponry was far more advanced than ours. No one survived.” He pauses. “Earth is a ball of dirt, hundreds of years behind other civilizations. None of your technology will withstand what the Authority's capable of throwing at us.”

I stand, arms crossed. “So what are we supposed to do?”

“Bring Pearls.” He turns to meet my eyes. “Bring them
toward us. Bathe us in energy so that we can take to the skies and end this.”

“What about my friends?”

He frowns. “For your friends to live, you have to leave them.”

I feel Avery clutch my arm. “It's okay, Jesse. We've survived worse. If you really need to get Cassius, then get him. Skandar and I can call Alkine, as much as I hate to do it. We'll be okay.”

“Indeed,” Savon replies. “This is only the beginning. Things will get worse, and soon.”

“But I—”

I'm interrupted by a rumble underfoot. To be fair, the cruiser's been unsteady this entire time, rolling over rocks and potholes, but this is different. This feels distant somehow, yet getting closer.

The cabin lurches to a stop before jolting forward once more. Avery and I are thrown off our feet for a moment. I turn to see Savon's good eye widen.

“No,” he says.

Avery glances around the cockpit, as if some part of the cruiser's malfunctioning. “No? What's that supposed to
mean?”

Savon shakes his head, unwilling—
or maybe unable—to respond. Instead, he turns back to the control panel. “Shut the veh
icle down.”

“What?” Skandar stands at the back of the cockpit. “Why?”

“Just do it,” he says. “We have to get out.”

Avery looks at me for confirmation. I grit my teeth, staring at my father. He's rattled, but I have no idea why.

I turn back to Avery. “Do it.”

With an exasperated sigh, she rushes to the console. We stop moving almost instantly. “Why the hell are we stopping in the middle of the Fringes?”

Her answer comes in the form of a second rumble, closer and fiercer than the first.

Savon moves to the back of the cockpit, throwing open the door. “I can't protect you in here,” he says before striding into the cabin.

I follow behind, eager to find out what's happening.

Any sane person would hit the button to open the side exit, but apparently Savon doesn't see it, because he grabs onto the secured handle and rips open the door, lock and all, before bothering with buttons or controls.

Intense Fringe heat blankets us immediately, forcing my eyes shut. A gust of wind pounds the side of the cruiser, throwing clumps of dirt and sand into the cabin. Savon doesn't seem to mind. He bounds from the ship, landing with a thud on the ground outside.

Avery and Skandar move behind me, shielding their faces from the oncoming flurry.

The cruiser shakes beneath us again, so furiously that I have to grab onto the wall to stabilize myself. Another second and I'm out, landing on the dirt in an unstable mess. Turns out it isn't just the cruiser that's rumbling. The entire ground rattles beneath me.

I move closer to my father. “What is it? What's happening?!?”

“Look.” He points at the horizon beyond us. At first, it's hard to see anything past the hazy screen of heat in the distance, but then I see it, bubbling up from the ground. Ridium sloshes to the surface, crumbling the earth as it pushes upward. Worse yet, it's moving forward.

“The Authority's caught up to us,” Savon says, extending his arm. “Get behind me.” He motions. “All of you. Now!” I turn to see Avery and Skandar bunch behind me, coerced by Savon's urgent comman
d.

We huddle together, watching my father stand tall in the face of the oncoming tide of Ridium. It sloshes over the ground with incredible speed, swallowing up every rock and bush in its path. A few more seconds and it will swallow us up too.

The ground rumbles with renewed fury, forcing all three of us to our knees. Savon stays in position, somehow resisting gravity. He stretches out his arms, like he's going to catch the Ridium. He's concerned, I can tell, but not terrified. Looking at him, I'm not sure he's ever terrified.

I wanna scream up to him, tell him that there's no way we can survive this much Ridium headed toward us at once, but I can't find my voice.

Instead, I watch as he brings his hands together in front of him before throwing his arms out to his sides in a “T” shape. Instantly the Ridium splits into two distinct streams, each of which flows past us in a wide arc, close enough to see clearly, yet far enough that it won't hurt us.

I gaze up at my father in awe, watching his arms tremble with the exertion of controlling so much Ridium at once. He's a Shifter.

My father, the Shifter.

And for the second time today, he's just saved my life.

I take comfort in this for a moment, which is foolish because it means I let my concentration wane. I don't see the tendril of Ridium shoot from the wave beside me. I don't notice it rush toward my shoulders.

I only notice after it's hit me—pounded into the square of my back, hard enough to throw me face-first into the dirt. Hard enough to knock the consciousness right out of me.