He lifted his feet from the water and breathed in the fresh morning air. The city lay quiet and still. He pivoted to stare at the bright, looming metropolis behind him. All Polar Cities had humble beginnings, but after the climate changed in America, they’d grown exponentially. A skyline of silver towers laid before him, nearly uniform in height and sprawled over the land in a vast sculpture of boulevards, catacombs, and wide sidewalks-the complete opposite of the smashed together Chosen Cities he’d grown up in.
He ran his fingers over the scar on his wrist, just below his identification socket. Before breaking through the U.S. border on his trek to Canada, he’d been forced to carve out the microchip Madame had embedded inside his arm. A tracker, tossed to the ground somewhere in the Fringes, left to throw the Unified Party off track. Yet someone had still found him.
Around the opposite wrist wrapped a seamless black band, a gift from his home world fused to his arm after he and Fisher had learned of their past in Seattle. It felt like stone but with a heft no greater than a ring of paper. Alien in nature, he was sure. It’d been completely useless so far, but impossible to remove. Another reminder of things he’d rather forget.
Shaking the water from his feet, he slipped on his shoes, stood, and started into the city. His government suit-minus the seal and anything else that could identify him-had seen better days. It served as his main set of clothing since he’d arrived, and it frayed at the edges. A thumb-sized hole slowly unwound near the waist where it’d gotten stuck on a splintered beam a couple weeks ago. And now the shoulder, blasted straight through.
The trees rustled to the left of him. A bristle ran up the back of his neck. Carefully, with as little sound as he could make, he rubbed his feet dry against the grass and slipped on his boots.
There was no wind this morning. No reason for the trees to shift like that.
Someone was here, watching him.
Panic flooded his body. He stood, fists balled at his sides. He could run if he wanted to, but then he’d never know what was happening.
“Who’s there?” His voice came out a hoarse whisper.
Trees surrounded him on two sides-a hundred perfect hiding places for anyone wishing to spy.
He could hear breathing. Most people wouldn’t even notice, but his senses had been heightened through years of training at the Lodge. A good quality in a soldier. Even better for a runaway.
Still, he couldn’t help but doubt himself. Was this paranoia? Too much time spent alone, running things over in his head-it could make a person go crazy.
“Stop hiding,” he continued. “I know you’re there.”
A branch snapped. Cassius spun to face it.
Nothing.
He felt his right fist ignite. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but now that the flames had erupted, his body followed suit. He felt his skin heat up. The invisible, organic generator inside of him produced more fire, drying any saltwater left on his face.
“Leave me alone!”
Before he knew it, fire spilled from his fingertips, bursting forth in a torrent as bright as the rising sun. Trees cracked and bowed as they caught ablaze. The fire spread fast, surrounding him within moments. Plumes of smoke rose into the air.
There were no screams. No footsteps or gunshots. Only fire.
Taking a choked breath, Cassius watched in horror as the blaze continued to spread. He’d done it again, let his fear and anger drive him to destruction. Whether or not there had been someone watching him, he’d lost his cool. And there wasn’t time to fix it.
Keeping his head low, he bolted from the fire. Trees fell behind him. He forced himself to ignore the sound. He couldn’t be linked to this.
He needed to disappear. Grab his communicator and leave the Polar Cities for good. But as he sprinted across the grass, he knew he couldn’t run forever. They’d find him. They were the best, and the best don’t give up, no matter how many of them he set on fire.
5
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.