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.
Cassius followed her into what looked like an old-fashioned courtroom. In place of a judge’s seat, there were three wooden podiums. Behind each sat a member of the Tribunal, their party’s icon etched into the wood beneath them. A Democrat, a Republican, and a Libertarian-two men and one woman. All three were older than Madame by at least a decade.
Cassius followed Madame down the aisle between rows of empty seats and to a table directly below the Tribunal’s watchful eyes. Madame motioned for her bodyguard to set the briefcase in front of her, then took a seat, clasping her hands and waiting. Cassius pulled up a chair beside her and sized up each Tribunal member.
“Good afternoon, Jessica.” Democratic Representative Leone spoke first, rubbing the stubble on his chin. His droopy, glazed eyes gave the impression that he could fall asleep at any moment. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Cassius glanced over at Madame, expecting to find outrage. Nobody used her real name.
Her expression remained stony. “I would ask you to please honor the title my party has given me during proceedings such as these.”
The old man smiled. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to humanize things.”
Republican Representative Buchanan, a portly woman wearing an expensive red jacket, leaned forward in her center seat and met Cassius’s eyes directly. “Is this your son, Madame?” Her voice was thick with a hint of a southern accent.
Cassius gripped the edge of the table, waiting to hear Madame’s answer.
“Yes,” she responded.
Buchanan smiled, her heavily colored lips prodding full cheeks. “How beneficial for him to witness the outcome of the Hernandez Treaty firsthand. What are your impressions of Skyship Atlas, boy?”
Madame grabbed his wrist, whispering to him. “You don’t have to answer that.”
Libertarian Representative Chandler, the youngest of the three, cleared his throat, producing a stack of papers from under his podium. “I believe you’ll find all of our reports are in order. Military engagements, energy consumption… it’s all there.”
Madame nodded, motioning for her bodyguard to grab the papers. He quickly transported the stack from the Tribunal to the tabletop, then moved behind her once more.
She opened the briefcase, removing an ink pen from a small pouch inside. Cassius knew that she had to read and sign each document in the presence of the Tribunal. The ritual was bound to drag on for a few hours at least. He was counting on it. Boredom was part of the conceit that would allow him to escape.