26.

Escape

I stare at Dax as the puzzle pieces fit together. Suddenly, it all makes sense. The way he told Astrid and me to take point during our first patrol, practically delivering us to the Aletheians. If we’d listened to his order to stay put, they would have captured us during the ambush. And then there’s the most obvious clue: Why would he have sent a newbie like Astrid to rescue me?

In retrospect, the answer seems obvious. Dax has been trying to get us to the Aletheians all along.

I study his face, wondering why I didn’t figure it out sooner.

“You’re a good actor,” I finally say. “Evil Dax was quite convincing.”

He absorbs the back-handed compliment with a grin. “Thanks, Wilmington. Takes years of practice.”

Astrid frowns in surprise. “You’ve been an Aletheian for that long?”

“Pretty much. During my first month in the Pit, I got separated from my patrol. Damn near froze to death, until big guy over here found me.”

Cael shrugs. “What were we going to do? He was turning blue.”

“Yeah, well... they could’ve left me to die, but instead, they wrapped me up in a thermal blanket and dropped me off right outside Command. Didn’t take long after that to realize I was playing for the wrong team.”

“What about Commander Bridges and Vora?” I ask, wondering if they’re also sympathizers. Up until my reunion with Thea, the notion that a Guardian could be working with the Aletheians seemed unthinkable, but now, I’m not sure about anything. Or anyone. 

“Bridges?” Dax laughs. “He’s clueless. Poor guy just wants out of York. And as for Vora…” He pulls a face. “She’s not much better than a ‘Forcer. Why do you think we took her out during the ambush?”

Astrid dusts the snow from her mask. “You mean you wanted her to get hit?”

“Of course. She would’ve sniffed us out and ruined everything. She’s lucky Cael only clipped her leg. Always gotta be a gentleman, right?”

“Hold up,” Vin cuts in. “So you’re both terrorists?”

Dax frowns. “Terrorists? Such an ugly word, Vineland. Let’s get one thing straight. We’re freedom fighters. Those charbroiled ‘Forcers over there…” He points to the black smoke on the horizon. “Those are the terrorists.”

Vin eyes me warily.

“He’s right,” I say. “I know it takes getting used to, but the Aletheians are on our side. If the choice is between them and Gant, it’s a no-brainer.”

“You’ll need to decide that for yourself,” Cael adds, addressing us all. “You’re free to go if that’s what you want.”

Vin tugs at his collar. “You mean you’ll take this thing off if I ask you to?”

“Sure,” Dax answers without missing a beat, “but you might regret it. Those collars are jamming your tracking chips. Keep wearing them and Gant’ll be deaf and blind. Take them off and he’ll lock right onto your position. Ask Wilmington what happens next. He can fill you in while we walk.”

Taking my cue, I recount my experience with the Eye as we approach the collapsed bridge. When I get to the part about what Gant did to the poor Settler boy, Brenne gasps and grabs Vin’s arm while Ferro mutters something about “lying Camp Rats” under his breath.

“No. It’s true,” Astrid says, rubbing his arm in a way that makes me flush with annoyance. Yeah, I get it already. You’re two flipping lovebirds.

When she goes on to explain how Gant had a tracking chip implanted in her head, Ferro stays silent for long stretch.

“He wouldn’t dare,” he finally says. “Not to you.” When he looks to Astrid for reassurance, she just shakes her head.

“He’s done worse, Ferr. And now that he’s in power, who knows what he’ll do next?” She turns to Cael and I’m struck once again by the respectful tone in her voice. “Any news on my father?”

“We’re only getting fragments of intel,” the Aletheian reports. “But we know your father and all members of his administration have been arrested and are awaiting trial.”

“Trial?” Astrid’s voice cracks. “On what charge?”

“Treason,” Dax answers.

When Astrid turns to glare at him, he raises his hands. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, Sunshine. I’m on your side, remember? Far as I’m concerned, Gant’s a raving psychopath. Did you know he just declared himself the Great One reborn?” He whistles loudly. “I mean, talk about inflated egos. He’ll probably try to purge every member of the Council.”

“Your father’s still alive,” Cael says after giving Dax a warning look. “He’s far too valuable to eliminate.”

“And too popular,” I add. “Gant won’t want to make him a martyr.”

“He’s right,” Ferro says, and before I can get over the shock of hearing those words come out of his mouth, he turns to Cael. “Gant will take him to the Crypts. That’s a subterranean prison, beneath the Citadel.”

The Crypts! If Astrid’s father has been taken to the same prison as my sister, my chances of rescuing her just got a whole lot better. Augustin Blake is a high value target for the Aletheians. If they have the resources, they may even launch a raid to rescue him. I just need to convince them to save my sister too.

“He’s right, isn’t he?” Astrid says. “Gant’s taken my father there already, but you didn’t want us to know that, did you?”

Cael meets her gaze. “We’re not hiding anything from you. We’ll share everything we know about your father, but now’s not the time. And this…” He motions toward the black smudge on the horizon. “Definitely isn’t the place. Bridges will send more Enforcers. We need to move.”

“Move where?” Vin toes the ice.  “What’re we supposed to do? Skate our way out of York?”

Dax answers him with a snort. “Good one, Vineland, but no. We’ve got something else in mind.”

Now that we’ve reached the base of the ruined bridge, I get a sense of its immense scale. The structure that once spanned this frozen bay must have been at least a mile long, judging from the spacing of its concrete pillars. They poke through the ice at regular intervals, like petrified tree stumps.

We circle around the nearest pillar, which casts an inky shadow on the ice. I pull my parka close, shivering as we cross the threshold into darkness. It feels like plunging into frigid water.

Vin’s teeth chatter as he turns to Dax. “This is your brilliant escape plan? To sneak away on the ice?”

“Not on, Vineland,” Dax answers, making a dipping motion with his hand. “Under.”

That’s when I see it, hiding in the deepest shadows.

A subnaut fin, poking up through the sea ice.

“Is that…?” Ferro asks in disbelief.

“Yup.” Dax motions to the concealed vessel, like a magician unveiling his grand finale. “You’re looking at our ride out of this frozen shitpit.”

*

How in flames did the Aletheians get their hands on a subnaut?

Astrid beats me to the question.

“The captain and crew defected last year,” Cael answers, like this kind of thing happens every day. “We’ve been using their ship to smuggle in supplies. Seemed like the best way to get you out of York undetected.”

“Best and only,” Dax adds. “Those collars you’re wearing may be jamming your chips, but Gant won’t be thrown off the trail for long. Once he sorts through those fried ‘Forcers back there, he’ll realize you’re missing. We don’t have much time.”

As if in agreement, the subnaut heaves upward, cracking the ice with a thunderous groan as more of the vessel surfaces. Moments later, the hatch atop its fin yawns open to disgorge a rope ladder. Its frayed end slaps onto the ice.

Dax motions Astrid and Brenne forward. “Ladies first.”

The fin rises twenty feet or so. When it’s my turn to climb, I haul myself up the frozen rope, boots clanging off metal. Spikes of ice surround the open hatch, adding to the illusion I’m about to enter the maw of a sea monster. I hesitate at the opening and slip on the icy deck, but before I can fall, a hand reaches out to grab mine.

Ferro. Using the sides of the hatch opening for leverage, he hauls me in.

No chance to thank the Peacock. He mutters something about us being even and then turns to follow Astrid.  I follow them down a narrow ladder, eyes gradually accommodating to the dim light to reveal a cramped, cave-like interior. The air inside feels hot and stifling and smells of petrol and old sweat.

“We’ll suffocate in here,” I hear Astrid griping from below.

“Don’t worry,” Cael reassures her. “This is just emergency power. Once we get under way, the generator will kick in.”

The ladder hovers over a narrow catwalk, which slopes toward a closet-sized chamber where the others have gathered. For a panicked moment, I think we’ll be trapped like this for the duration of whatever trip the Aletheians have planned, but then Cael kneels to crank open a metal hatch in the floor. Light streams up through the opening.

“This way,” he says before lowering himself through the portal.

“Looks like your leg healed well,” I say to Ferro as we wait for our turn. It’s the closest thing I can offer to a thank you, and he answers me with the expected grunt before turning to Astrid.

Vin moves into the space next to me, Brenne clinging to his arm like he’s a life preserver. When he tries to adjust his position, he whacks his head against an overhanging metal pipe.

“You okay?” I ask.

He checks his scalp for blood. “Never fragging better.”

“Sorry,” Dax taunts as he squeezes past us, “but the luxury cruise out of York left yesterday.”

“Don’t.” Brenne whispers the warning into Vin’s ear before I can. “Not worth it.”

“You sure ‘bout that?”

Fortunately, Dax drops through the open hatch before Vin can reach him.

I breathe out a sigh of relief when we enter the body of the subnaut. Not that it’s roomy down here, but there’s more open space, with fresher air and better lighting.

There are also seven more people.

As we approach, I recognize only two faces: Liv and Thea.

“Welcome aboard,” Thea says with relief in her voice. “We don’t have much time. Sensors just picked up five inbound helis.”

“How long?” Cael asks.

“Five minutes, maybe less,” a tall Aletheian with the darkest skin I’ve ever seen answers in a deep voice. He’s wearing a black naval jumpsuit with the Crystal and Flame insignia. How many defectors are there?

“Captain Kobari and his crew joined the resistance last fall,” Thea says, making me wonder yet again whether she’s capable of sifting my mind. “Without their help, it would have been hard to survive the winter. The Enforcers cut off all land supply lines more than a year ago.”

“You’re defectors?” Astrid asks, eyeing Kobari’s uniform.

The Captain clears his throat, standing tall. “We’re believers of the cause, Miss Blake.”

“And what cause is that?” Ferro spits out with contempt. Way to win over new friends, Fahrenheit.

“The only cause worth dying for,” Kobari answers in a strange, lilting accent that might be from the Western Territories. “Freedom.”

Astrid flashes me a loaded look, like I’m somehow supposed to know what she’s thinking. Then she turns to Kobari and asks, “Are you a Sifter?”

The Captain shakes his head, lips pursed in distaste. “No. I’m afraid our people don’t share your… gift.”

Was that sarcasm? I scan Kobari’s dark-skinned crew, noting the hostile glint in their eyes. The fake Elite Guards who met us on the ice have joined them. Something tells me these people aren’t big fans of Guardians.

“Then why—?” Astrid turns to Thea.

“Why can’t you sift him?” Liv interrupts, glowering at both of us. She reaches forward to brush my collar, her fingertips like ice against my skin. “Call it a compromise. Long as you Stalkers wear these, Gant won’t be able to vaporize you, and you won’t be able to sift us. You might catch an aura, but that’s about it.”

“If you’ll excuse us, we need to get under the ice,” Kobari says before signaling to his crew. “Hard descent!  I want to be on the floor before the first heli gets here!”

His men race into action, initiating the dive sequence with a well-orchestrated set of maneuvers. Within seconds, the sub starts to vibrate, hissing and gurgling with the sounds of rushing water and air. The hull creaks and groans like a rusted door hinge as we pull free of the ice. A sudden jerk and we’ve broken loose, sinking so fast that my stomach jumps into my chest.

“Here.” Thea leads us toward an open hatch at one end of the cabin. “We’ll be more comfortable in the crew’s cabin.”

We follow her into a long, narrow chamber with curved walls. Ducts and wiring hang from the ceiling like roots burrowing into a subterranean tunnel. As soon as we enter the space, white lights blink on, showing more details in sharp relief. Evenly spaced cots jutting from the walls. A central table with metal benches. Cabinets and lockers at the far end of the compartment and a rear bulkhead with an oval hatch, presumably leading to another cabin. I breathe in the stale, recycled air, tasting something bitter, like rubber.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Vin mutters as he sheds his parka.

“Hey.” Brenne rubs his arm. “At least it’s warm down here.”

My ears pop as the sinking sensation fades. We’re leveling out. Motors drone to life somewhere deep inside the bowels of the sub and we lurch forward. I picture us gliding beneath the ice, a shadow cutting through the frigid water.

“You’ll find more comfortable clothing on your bunks.” Thea backs up to the bulkhead. “Washrooms and a shower are at the far end to your right. Galley and mess are on the left. We’ll meet there when you’re ready. I’m sure you’re starved.”

“Where are you taking us?” Astrid demands.

“We’ll discuss that once you’re fed and rested.”

“I’d rather discuss that now.”

“We just saved your lives,” Liv calls out from behind me. I’m not sure when she and Cael joined us. Those two move like ghosts. “How about showing a little damn gratitude! Or is that beneath you Stalkers?”

“Gratitude?” Astrid edges toward her. “Oh yeah, right! Thanks for sticking fragging collars on us, marching us out onto the ice and then taking us prisoner. And while I’m at it, thanks for trying to blow me up a few days ago.”

Liv balls her fists at her sides. “Believe me, Stalker: if I’d been aiming for you, you’d be a red stain in the snow right now.”

“Enough!” It’s the first time I’ve heard Thea raise her voice in anger, and the effect is unnerving. Even Liv backs down. “There’s no time for this. We’re all fighting the same enemy now.”

“But how –?” Liv turns away in disgust. “How are we supposed to trust them?”

“We have no choice,” Thea says, still looking at Astrid. “There’s no other way.”

“There’s always a choice,” Astrid says, taking Ferro’s hand and lacing her fingers between his. It’s a gesture of defiance, showing where her loyalties lie. Not with the Aletheians. Definitely not with me. “And trust is earned. You promised to give us some answers. We’re still waiting.”

Thea turns to Cael and the two of them share some silent understanding. “We’ll check on Kobari and his crew,” he announces, tugging Liv toward the bridge. “See you in the mess after everyone has settled in.”

Once they’ve gone, Thea sits on the nearest cot and motions for us to come closer. Maybe it’s the harsh silver lighting, but she looks so much older than the young Guardian in my memories. Her once flawless complexion is weathered, spotted by sun and time, and fine lines crease the corners of her eyes. When she peels back the hood of her parka, I notice the cobwebs of gray in her hair. Only her dark eyes remain unchanged.

They draw me in now, asking a silent question: Do you remember?

Astrid steps between us to break the connection. “You said you would take us to Aletheia,” she says, biting her lower lip. By now, I’ve grown familiar with this nervous tic. It’s something she always does when she doesn’t trust someone.

“Aletheia?” Thea chuckles softly.

“Yes,” Astrid snaps. “Aletheia. The rebel base. You promised to take us there. I need to talk to whoever is in command, and I’m starting to think that can’t be you.”

“You’ll get that chance,” Thea says, still smiling. “But we don’t have a single base. Our forces are scattered throughout the four territories of Neoden. If we had a central base, we’d be an easy target.”

Astrid turns to me, again trying to communicate something with her eyes. Why don’t you look to your boyfriend, Princess? We’re clearly not on the same wavelength. “So, Aletheia,” she finally says after huffing out her frustration. “That’s just some made-up place, isn’t it?”

Thea's smile widens. “No. Aletheia’s quite real, Miss Blake, and I’ve done what I promised. I’ve brought you right to her.”

Now it’s Astrid’s turn to laugh. “You mean this subnaut?” She gestures to the curved walls around us. “This is your all-powerful rebel base? This is Aletheia?”

Thea starts to answer, but I’m not listening to her words. Instead, I’m staring into her eyes and seeing something in their depths that triggers a distant memory. Blue sky expands above and rows of trees surround me, their branches weighted down with red fruit. When I close my eyes, I feel a young Guardian’s hand slipping into mine. She’s walking me through an apple orchard, just outside the Camp. Beyond the electrified fences and blister wire. She kneels to my level to whisper into my ear…

 I’m taking you away from this place because you don’t belong here, Wil. You’re special.

“Astrid -- I don't think Aletheia's a place." I stare at my old teacher, wondering why I didn't see it sooner. Aletheia. Thea. "She’s a person.”

*****

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