I sit at the edge of the bed in my dorm room, staring at the wall, scared to go outside for fear of what everyone else will say. Their eyes are scarier now, the way they dissect me. The corridors of the Academy seem endless. It’s not just the faculty. It’s the students. The families. Everyone.
There are two things they can’t take away from me, and they’re both in this room now. One winds around my wrist and the other sits securely in a safe below my desk, accessible only by my identification card.
The first is a black bracelet, weightless but solid as stone. It’s fused so perfectly against my arm that it feels like a part of my body now. It was a sort of gift from my parents, meant for when I’d first landed on Earth more than twelve years ago. But Madame managed to hold that little party back until last spring. I still don’t know exactly what it’s supposed to do, but if nothing else, it’s proof that my homeworld exists. Cassius shares this proof. He also shares what’s in the safe-a direct line of communication between the two of us. The second of my untouchable objects.
If Alkine had his way, he’d take them both. Luckily, the bracelet won’t come off. And the communicator? Well, there’s a reason I’ve got it locked up. Everybody gets to keep a secret or two. I have so few left.
I itch to head back to the core reactor and break the new Pearl they’ve got spinning in there now. My knee shakes. It’s hard to keep still.
Avery would know what to do. If I could wish anything and have it be true, it would be for her to be here now, safe beside me on this bed. She’d know what to say. She’s the one person I know who’s worked for both the Academy and the Unified Party. It took me awhile to trust her again after learning that, but I believe her now. She’s on my side. She would’ve died for me in Seattle.
Maybe she has.
The Unified Party took her back. To reenlist her or to kill her-I have no way of knowing. Either way, the only person who really cared about me is gone.
I’m supposed to meet Eva and Skandar for lunch, but I honestly don’t know if I’m up for it. Sure, they’ve been two of the only friends to stick by my side these past few months, but after spending the morning in the gray room I’m not exactly thrilled to face them. It’s embarrassing, the way I am now. The way I feel.
A knock at the door jerks my shoulders back in surprise. My stomach sinks. My breath quickens. This is my home, my room. It shouldn’t be like this.
I don’t move. I wish I had a camera that could show me who’s standing on the other side of the door. Caller ID for people too lazy to stand up.
Another series of knocks. Maybe it’s Skandar. That would be alright, I guess. Then at least I’d have someone to walk with up to the canteen.
I take a deep breath and work up the courage to stand and open the door. But before I can, it swings open and a man steps into the room. He stops just past the frame, arms crossed. I’ve probably seen him before-one of the hundreds of young agents onboard-but I have no idea who he is. Twenty-something, I’d guess, with a broad eagerto-please smile on his chiseled face. Cropped brown hair, button-up shirt and tie, the whole Agent look. In short, a vision of exactly what I have no hope of becoming.
His eyes are bright and focused. I must look like an absolute mess in comparison. He leans on the open door, feigning a casual, at-ease persona. At the very least, he’s not all that threatening. “Hey, buddy.” His tone is overeager. “How’s it going?”
My shoulders slump. I turn to look at him. “Who’re you?”
His smile widens. “I remember when I was a Year Ten.” He glances around the room like he’s appraising a castle. “Level Two dorm rooms. Good times. Of course, that was back before they installed the content shields on the e-feed network, if you know what I mean.” He moves from the doorway and sits beside me on the bed, almost shoulder to shoulder. After a moment, he holds out his hand in expectation that I’ll do the same. “Agent Morse.” I get the sense that if I grabbed it, he could throw me over his shoulder and chuck me all the way down the hallway.
I stare at him with an expression that can’t help but come across more than a little insulting. “Um… this is my bed.”
“Oh.” He jumps to his feet. “Yeah. Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.”
“Then you shouldn’t barge into someone’s room.” He laughs. He thinks I’m being funny.
I keep my eyes pinned to his face. “Did Alkine send you?”
He walks to the far window, dodging piles of clothing on the way. An agent like him probably has a mass clean room, probably folds his sheets with a straight-edge. “It’s a beautiful afternoon up at Lookout Park, Fisher. You shouldn’t be cooped up in here.”
I glare at him. Does this guy realize where I just spent my morning? I’d point it out, but I don’t think the irony would phase him.
After another moment at the window, he turns back to me, his crisp suit at odds with the clutter around him. “Let me walk you to lunch.”
“That’s okay. I’m already meeting-”
“No,” he says. “I insist.”
“You know, there are privacy laws. Breaking into someone’s room and-”
“Privacy laws?” He chuckles. “On Skyship Academy? Good one. They told me you were a joker.”
“I’m already meeting friends.”
He shakes his head. “I insist.”
I scoot away from him, fingers forming fists. “What are you gonna do?”
Agent Morse holds his hands above his shoulders in innocence, that perma-smile still affixed to his face. “Whoa, calm down little man. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Little man? Any chance of me listening to this guy is blown as soon as I hear these words. Tells me all I need to know. He’s like all the others. Patronizing. He thinks I’m a kid. Maybe I should break a Pearl in his face and see if he still thinks I’m little.
He crosses his arms. “The Captain told me you’d have this reaction.”
“Wonderful.”
His posture eases. “He asked me if I would kind of, well, check up on you. You know, like a mentor program. He knows the way it’s been between the two of you recently.”
I stand and grip the door handle, seconds away from slamming it shut in his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s not a punishment.” He eases closer. “And it doesn’t mean you’re a… loser or anything.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“It’s just that you’ve got a different situation going on. And sometimes it helps to have someone to talk to. Someone who’s a little older. Someone who’s been through things.”
My grip tightens. “You’ve got no idea.”
“So fill me in. Over lunch.”
“I already told you. I’m meeting people.”
His brows raise. “I’d like to meet them, too.”
I shake my head. “No way. The moment we step out that door and people see me walking around with someone like you, they’ll think something’s up. Like, that you’re walking me to the brig or something.”
He sighs. “You really think people don’t know already? Do you think the other students in Dr. Hemming’s lab this morning didn’t realize you were gone? Attendance hasn’t exactly been first rate this term, has it? People know something’s up.”
My shoulders tense. “They don’t know all of it.”
“No. You’re right. Hell, I don’t know all of it. But I know you’re different. I know that something happened back there on the Surface that changed the way we think about Pearls, and the way the Captain thinks about you. And, if I can be frank, from the rumors I’ve heard floating around the ship, you’re lucky that Alkine’s letting you stay onboard like this, protected.”
I scoff. “Lucky.”
“Yeah,” he replies. “If I’m being honest. But I’d like you to prove me wrong. I’d like to discover that the file I read about a funny, good-hearted kid wasn’t just a lie. He’s in there. I can see him.” He sighs. “Just give it a chance. It’s like a big-brother thing. You’ve always wanted a brother, right?”
My heart sinks. “What did you just say?”
He shrugs. “A brother. Like, big bro… toss the antigrav ball around and hang out.”
That’s it. Screw the people outside. I don’t care how they look at me, or what they say. Nothing can be worse than this. Without responding, I head into the hallway and slam the door before Morse can follow. Then I run, and I don’t stop until I reach the stairwell.
– “You look terrible, mate. What did they do to you?”
That’s Skandar Harris. Always tactful, always there to pick you up. Eva would say that he’s too dim to be deceitful or manipulative, but I don’t believe that. He sits across from me at the canteen table. His uncombed brown hair is tangled above his head, like usual.
Next to him is Eva Rodriguez, a firm, steady voice even when I don’t need one. We’ve had our moments-we still do-but I think I trust her. I trust her enough, anyways. And compared to me, with her cropped, battle-ready hair and buff arms, she’s mass good at this Skyship Agent stuff. She’s the kind of student Alkine likes, and she’s saved my butt on more than one occasion.
Agent “Big Brother” Morse didn’t follow me up, thankfully, though it’s only a matter of time before he corners me again. Especially if Alkine told him to.
Lunch is some sort of potato mush, halfway between a soup and a paste, with bread. It’s bland, even with a fist full of salt mixed in, but I’m not paying much attention to it. Food’s been a problem ever since we crossed the Pacific. It’s mostly the same stuff every day, cans from deep within our rations storeroom, the odd crate our agents bring back from the States.
We sit at our old table, the one we always stole in Year Nine. It’s lopsided, but pushed far into the corner of the room, shielded by rows and rows of students and faculty. Hopefully it’s isolated enough to keep Morse from finding me. The din of the crowd is sort of comforting. I feel like I can blend in and disappear for once.
Eva sighs as she drags a spoon through her bowl. “At least they’re letting you move around the ship. Class this afternoon?”
“I don’t think so.” I take a sip of water.
“That’s a shame.”
Skandar leans forward, whispering. “So did you really break it? Like, yank it from the reactor and give it the big explosion?”
I nod. “Right in Alkine’s face.”
Eva chokes down a spoonful of the paste. “Probably not the best way to endear yourself.” She winces. “My god this is revolting.”
“It was satisfying.” I shrug. “Kind of.”
She sets down her spoon and rests her elbows on the table, leaning closer. “Listen, Jesse. You know I have your back, whatever you do. But we really need to sit down and brainstorm some better ideas. There’s got to be an effective way to look out for the other Drifters that doesn’t cause this kind of chaos.”
“Lights flickering off for a couple of hours is hardly chaos.” Skandar rolls his eyes. “I was asleep. I didn’t even notice.”
I nod. “If Alkine would stop using Pearl Power, everything would-”
“You know that’s not an option,” Eva interrupts. “He’s doing what he can.”
“You didn’t meet with him after Seattle. You didn’t hear the way he was talking, like we were gonna bust past the Skyline and take on the Unified Party until all the Pearls were broken. Project Pearlbreaker. That’s what he called it. What a joke.”
She grabs her spoon and attempts another go at the mush. “Military operations are always dependent on-”
Something flashes red. My vision blurs and I feel heat in my chest, like I’m back in the reactor chamber with the spinning Pearl. I close my eyes and the image of a coastline spreads across my consciousness. It’s as clear as if I’m standing there, right in front of the water. I hear the waves crash against the rocks, smell the gritty saltiness in the air. But I’ve never seen this place before. It’s barren-no people or grass for miles — and flat.
Another flash of red and my eyes fly open again.
Eva gapes at me. “Are you okay, Jesse?”
I nod. “Fine.” But even as I respond, the coastline lingers in my mind.
Skandar frowns. “You look like you just fell asleep for a second.”
I give a slight nod, mostly ignoring him. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Eva’s eyes narrow. “It’s not like last spring, is it? In Dembo’s room on Visitation Day?”
“I’m fine.”
I wish I could believe it. Every time I blink I see it again. And visions like this-weird, random flashes-are never good in my case. The last one led me to Seattle, but that was months ago. I thought it was a one-time thing, a symptom of my Pearlbreaker powers being triggered. Why would some empty coastline pop into my head now?
“Anyways,” Eva starts up again. “I think if we run through this logically… get it all down in a… a chart or diagram, we can organize your thoughts into a coherent argument and present it to-”
“Cassius.” I stop myself. I didn’t mean to say his name out loud.
Her face drops. “What?”
“Sorry.” I flash a fake smile while I think it through.
Cassius is on the coast. Back in Canada, a continent away. Was this some kind of warning? He’s the type to get himself in trouble, even more than me, and I still don’t fully understand our bond after Seattle. Maybe I was seeing something through his eyes. A connection.
Eva groans. “Are you even listening to me?”
Skandar pokes her shoulder with the end of his fork. “Jesse’s not about to give Alkine some lame chart. That’s like something you’d do.”
“I’m just trying to help,” she mutters.
I pull myself up from my seat, abandoning the rest of lunch.
Skandar leans back, fork pointing at me now. “Where are you going?”
“Don’t worry. I just have to check on something.”
Eva frowns. “What could be so important? You just got here!”
“Cover for me in Tech, okay?”
“I can only cover for you so many times.”
“Thanks.” I walk away before she can respond.
I don’t look at anybody as I dart through the canteen on my way to the stairwell. I’ve gotten good at this lately, blocking out the curious glances and pretending that I’m the only one in the room.
I make it down four flights of stairs to my room in record time and slip inside. Door locked and doublechecked, I head directly to my desk, pull my identification card from underneath piles of junk, and open the safe in the bottom drawer. Grabbing Cassius’s secret communicator, I lay stomach down on my bed and set the device against the deflated pillow. It’s probably too late to hope that he’ll pick up, but it’s worth a shot. Our time difference is killer, but as far as I can tell Cassius doesn’t sleep. Guy’s a total insomniac.
I make sure that the dial hasn’t been turned off our channel before speaking. Then, scooting forward so that I can keep my voice low, I whisper. “Cassius?”
I’m answered with static as the signal strengthens. This is old technology, even by the Academy’s standards.
Cassius’s voice spills from the speaker after a few moments, tinny and small. It’s the only version of my brother I’ve gotten to know these past few months. “This isn’t a good time.” There’s a hardness to his tone. Imposing, even now that we’re allies.
I bring myself closer to the speaker, scared that Morse or someone could be out in the hallway listening. “Is something wrong?” I wait for a response that doesn’t come. “You’re still on the coast?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Why?”
“I just had the weirdest flash. Like, suddenly my eyes shut and I saw this place, right on the water. I haven’t had a vision that strong since last spring, when I saw Seattle clogged up with all that green mist.”
He’s silent. I’m not sure if he’s thinking it through or if he’s decided not to respond again, so I continue.
“I thought maybe, since it was a coastline, it might have something to do with you.”
“What kind of coastline?”
I close my eyes and recall the image. “Dirt, mostly. Bare.”
“That’s not the Polar Cities,” he responds. “There are buildings everywhere. Docks and… small forests.”
“Oh.” I move to a sitting position, resting on my knees. Suddenly the mad rush back to my room seems a little overdramatic, something a crazy person would do. Or someone with a massive anxiety problem.
I stare into the speaker, wishing that we were sitting face to face. These short bursts of communicator conversation are never enough. And it makes it impossible to tell if he’s being honest with me. “Where are you now?”
“Home.”
“Where’s home?” I know he won’t tell me. He never does.
He sighs. “Just home. Okay?”
“Okay.”
His voice calms. “The Academy… how are they treating you?”
“The same,” I start. “I broke a Pearl last night but they-”
“You’ve got to do something,” he interrupts. “I don’t have your power. I can’t do what you can. They’re still hiding the other Drifters?”
“They’re in Siberia somewhere. That’s all I know. We’ve had conference calls, but-”
“You’ve got to find them,” he says. We’ve been through this before, countless times. And the conversation always follows the same path. I can nearly predict it word for word. “Talk to them. We’re being kept in the dark. We can’t do anything if we don’t know what’s going on.”
“It would be a lot easier if you were here.”
He scoffs. “Yeah? I’m sure Alkine’d be happy to have me after all I’ve done.”
“But you’ve changed.”
No reply.
I wince. “I don’t know how.”
“Next time they hook you up to the video feed, look for clues.”
I think back to the last conference Alkine let me sit in on. He schedules them every few weeks, heavily scripted sitdowns with Ryel, one of the first, and most English-fluent, of the Drifters I’ve freed. Their prison can’t be far away. Otherwise Alkine wouldn’t have been able to install a video link.
“It’s only a room.” I close my eyes and visualize Ryel’s worried face filling the video screen. I picture the feed breaking in and out like it always does. I think the faculty manipulates the frames. I’m not even sure that the conference is live. The grammar Ryel uses, the words and phrases he chooses to put together… it never seems right. “There’s nothing behind him. No markings or maps or anything. Just a gray wall and a pair of Academy guards flanking him.”
“Maybe it’s on the coast,” Cassius says. “Maybe that’s what you were seeing. The Academy has to have the coordinates stored somewhere. You have to look around.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. I know that finding Ryel is more important than freeing random Drifters from captured Pearls. He was the one who was able to relay the message from our mother on the rooftop last spring. He knows things that we need to know. But finding him-hell, getting to him-seems impossible.
There’s a long pause. For a second I think Cassius has switched off his communicator. “Cassius?”
“I’ve gotta go, alright?”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“From Siberia?” He laughs. “Doubt it. You focus on your end. Call me when you’ve got answers.”
I nod, not that he can see it.
He grunts. Or maybe it’s a cough. It’s hard to tell over the communicator. “I’ll talk to you when I know things are safe.”
“Alright.” That’s about all I can expect from my brother right now. But things are never safe. Not with him.
The static fades and the line goes dead. I turn off the communicator and flip over on my back, staring at the ceiling. I close my eyes and try to visualize that coastline again. It appears in front of me, one little piece at a time until I recall the entire horizon. Problem is, there’s not much to see. It could be any stretch of land. The whole of this country’s crammed with coastline. If I’m gonna risk my butt hijacking a shuttle to go exploring, I’ve got to be absolutely sure that I know where I’m going. There can’t be mistakes. I can’t give Alkine time to find me and bring me back.
I try to wind around inside my little vision, see if the image will let me zoom out and reveal a path to our Skyship. No luck.
Water. Rocks. That’s it.
I open my eyes and notice a ball of red light blotched on the ceiling-a flash like the ghost image left behind after looking at a lightbulb for too long. Another second and it’s gone. I continue to stare, squinting to see if I can make the red appear again. It doesn’t.
Water. Rocks. Red. My mind’s playing tricks on me. Maybe it’s an aftereffect of the meds Alkine pumped into my system last night. Or maybe I’m just going crazy.
I sigh, trying to forget the entire thing. That’s when my bracelet starts to hum.