Trickster tossed the ball over his shoulder again. This time Cole caught it and bounced it up to him.
The patrolmen increased their pace. “A moment of your time,” one of the patrolmen said, trotting forward.
Trickster came to a stop. So did the rest of them. Cole tried to keep calm despite the convincing instinct that he should run for his life.
“We’ve had a couple of runaways reported,” the other patrolman said. “We need to check your ID cards.”
“Sure,” Trickster said, producing a card. “We’re not runaways. Who are the kids?”
The patrolman scanned his ID with a small handheld device. “Winston Sykes,” the officer said. “Twelve years old. And Carla Rutherford. Eleven years old. Know either of them?”
Trickster shook his head. “They from around here?”
“This part of the city,” the patrolman replied.
Hanging back, Cole was close to total panic. Looking for two runaways would be a great cover if these patrolmen were really searching for Mira. But it would be foolish to run before he knew they were actually in trouble, in case the story was true.
The patrolman gave Trickster his card back and Roulette handed over hers. He scanned it and returned it. “Keep them coming,” the patrolman said.
Cole still had his ID card from Outpost 121. But wouldn’t it be linked to Joe somehow and immediately get him in trouble? Cole supposed the answer partly depended on whether or not the police were actually searching for runaways.
“What if we left our IDs at home?” Jace asked.
“Then I might suspect you’re who we’re looking for,” the patrolman said. “Everyone knows the law. When out in public, you have to keep your ID card on you at all times. Do you live nearby?”
“Sort of far,” Jace said. “Across the city a ways.”
“If you lived close, we could go to your home,” the patrolman said. “Living far away and not carrying ID means a visit to the patrol station and then contacting your parents.”
“He has his ID,” Cole said, getting out his own. “He just doesn’t trust patrolmen.”
“Don’t you have pictures of the runaways?” Mira asked. “Can’t you see we’re not them?”
“IDs, please,” the patrolman said, his tone making it clear that he was done conversing.
Cole gave the patrolman his ID card, then held his breath as it was scanned. The patrolman handed it back. “Next.”
Jace shared his ID. After scanning the card, the patrolman looked up at Jace intently, then glanced at his partner and gave a nod.
The other patrolman took out a gray rectangle and lifted it to his mouth. Trickster jumped and kicked the rectangle, his leg a blur. The communicator went flying.
Jace crouched forward, grabbed the other patrolman by his ankles, then yanked both feet forward and up. The patrolman went down hard, his back slamming against the sidewalk while Jace held his ankles high.
With a silver tube in each hand, Roulette covered the patrolman on the ground and the one still standing in white foam from neck to boots. She hopped away as the upright patrolman swung at her, but it was the only move he managed to make before the cloud of white foam hardened. Cole shoved him over.
“Run,” Trickster said softly, taking off down the sidewalk.
Cole started at a normal sprint, but realized that Trickster was racing at maximum speed. Exhilarated and scared, Cole pushed his pace to the limits.
The rig responded as desired, whipping his legs faster than they could possibly move unassisted. Cole dashed down the sidewalk at almost twice the speed of his normal sprint, the air rushing over him as if he were cruising along on a bike. He found that if he stretched his strides too much, he went from a sprint to a series of long, one-footed hops. Running at full speed had to look suspiciously fast, but the hops would draw even more attention, since the gait raised him up unnaturally high and was completely inhuman.
Trickster paused at the next corner. “You grabbed the communicator?” he asked Roulette.
“Dalton got it,” she said.
Holding up the gray rectangle, Dalton shook it gently.
“Nice,” Trickster said. “We wouldn’t be Crystal Keepers if we left an enemy’s harmonic crystal behind.” He held out a hand, and Dalton passed it to him. “Slick move, Jace, dropping that Zero.”
“Maybe we should keep running,” Jace said.
“Patience,” Trickster said, raising the communicator to his mouth. He lowered his voice a little and started running in place. “We’re in pursuit on Sexton Road between Haley and Braga. It’s the jackpot but we need reinforcements. Hurry.”
Trickster lowered the communicator. “Coggs, aren’t you on Voletta?” a voice replied.
Trickster ran in place again and raised the communicator. “Negative. Followed a hunch and they ran. In pursuit on Sexton crossing Braga.” Trickster gave a pained grunt and dropped the communicator.
“Coggs?” came the voice from the communicator. “Coggs?”
Crouching, Trickster switched it off. “That’s how you buy a little time and move a bunch of the other patrolmen out of your way.”
“Won’t they see the guys on the sidewalk?” Cole asked.
“Maybe,” Trickster said. “Sexton runs parallel to this street, so the Zeroes will mostly use cross streets to get there.”
“People are already trying to help our victims,” Dalton said, looking down the sidewalk to where a man and a woman had stopped beside the cocooned patrolmen.
“People without communicators are trying to help patrolmen without communicators,” Trickster said. “We have a few extra minutes at least. I’ll take Secret under this road.” He pointed to the pedestrian tunnel that went in the direction they had been heading. To the left another pedestrian tunnel went under the perpendicular street. “Roulette, take the others that way. Don’t run.”
“I know when to run,” Roulette said, heading down the stairs.
Cole waved at Mira. “Stay safe.”
She nodded and followed Trickster. Jace looked after them in frustration.
“He’s good,” Cole said. “She’ll be safe.”
“Whatever,” Jace said, unconsoled.
“Unless she falls in love with him,” Cole mused.
“Shut up,” Jace said, following Dalton and Roulette.
Cole went with him. At the bottom, Roulette raced across the empty tunnel. Cole and the others followed her lead.
As they reached the top of the far side, they discovered a pair of patrolmen running toward them. One was a woman. Like some other pedestrians had done, Roulette flattened up against the building to let them pass. Cole, Jace, and Dalton did likewise. The patrolmen raced by them without a second look and hurried down the stairs to the pedestrian tunnel.
“Trickster isn’t dumb,” Jace said.
“He’s not,” Roulette agreed. “But he loves taking charge. It gets annoying.”
They started walking again. “Didn’t you like his plan?” Cole asked.
“The plan is fine,” Roulette said.
Cole thought she sounded a little jealous but decided not to push her.
A black levcar came zooming down the magroad, going much faster than Cole had seen any levcar drive. The other cars flowed out of the way, leaving it a clear lane.
“More patrolmen?” Dalton asked.
“That’s right,” Roulette said. “Black levcars are City Patrol. Everybody’s heading to Sexton. At least for now.”
Walking along a zigzag route between buildings and under streets, Cole couldn’t lose the knotted feeling in his stomach. He knew now that if they were stopped for ID cards, they were going to have to run. Well, at least Jace would. Cole wondered why his card hadn’t raised any red flags.
Their best bet was to avoid another confrontation with patrolmen. How many
times could they get away? If a bunch of patrolmen converged with those web-shooting trapguns, none of them would escape.
Shadows stretched to gargantuan lengths, and then the sun slid below the skyline, turning the jutting buildings into silhouettes against a rosy backdrop. They occasionally passed robots—some were just walking around, one was repairing a streetlight, a few worked cleaning an empty fountain. Though he kept an eye out, Cole didn’t see Sidekick.
After some time, Roulette led them up a pedestrian bridge and over a busy magroad to an expansive park. Under dusky trees, they walked on scant paths until a lake came into view. Several docks hosted sailboats. Only a few vessels remained on the water, and they seemed bound for the shore.
“Mariner Lake,” Roulette said. “A place for city people to play boat captain. All of the craft have motors. The sails are mainly for show. I guess some people try to actually use them now and then.”
“I haven’t seen Sidekick,” Cole mentioned.
“He would have followed Secret,” Roulette said. “No offense, but she’s the one everybody most cares about. Your names aren’t even code words.”
“Like Roulette,” Cole said. “Or is that what your parents called you?”
“My parents were slaves,” Roulette said. “A lot of slaves in Zeropolis try to give their babies to the Unseen before they receive slavemarks. It worked. I’m free. But I don’t know my parents. It’s supposedly too dangerous if the babies who get free try to learn their heritage.”
“Have you tried?” Dalton asked.
“I wanted to when I was younger,” Roulette said. “By the time I was old enough to do anything about it, I realized the rule was there for a reason.”
“Who raised you?” Cole asked.
“Different people,” Roulette said. “The kind of people who quietly want to do good, but don’t want full membership in the Unseen. There are lots of them here.”
“They named you Roulette?” Jace asked.
“I got that name from the CKs,” she said. “I guess I take risks.”
“Like what?” Jace asked.
Roulette paused and lifted her leg. “From shin down it’s all mechanical,” she said. “I guess that was the big one.”
Cole’s eyes widened. “What happened?” he inquired.
“Didn’t make a jump,” she said. “I thought I could, but came up short. It was an ugly landing—not on smooth ground. The rig I was wearing saved my life, but part of it broke, taking the end of my leg with it. I had other injuries, but losing the foot was the most permanent.”
Cole and Dalton exchanged a look. Even with everything Cole had seen here, somehow it didn’t stop surprising him how different life was for kids in the Outskirts. Back home he had never done anything that seemed dangerous enough to lose a leg. Roulette obviously did a lot more than just goof around in arcades. And she hadn’t let her injury stop her.
As they approached a long building on the lakeshore where people dined on a large patio, two figures came toward them. In the fading light it took Cole a moment to recognize Trickster and Mira.
“Clean getaway?” Dalton asked.
“Not until we’re safe inside Forge’s lair,” Trickster replied. “Glad to see you guys, though.”
“You got here first,” Jace said.
“Not by much,” Mira said.
“Any more drama?” Cole asked Mira.
“No fights with patrolmen,” Mira said. “Plenty of worry.”
“Come on,” Trickster said, leading the way.
“Has anybody seen Sidekick?” Cole asked.
“A few times,” Trickster said. “He keeps his distance. He isn’t a brawler. Many of his weapons don’t require him to be close.”
“Where was he when those patrolmen almost got us?” Jace asked.
“Maybe not near enough to help,” Trickster said. “Or maybe we were just too quick. It didn’t take us long to drop them.”
“Would he have really done much?” Dalton asked. “He doesn’t seem like the type.”
“Don’t underestimate Sidekick,” Trickster said. “Sometimes good things come in small, dented packages.”
Trickster led them away from Mariner Lake and back onto sidewalks. Before too long they reached a neighborhood where narrow walkways passed between large, bland buildings. Trickster paused at a plain door and used a card to open it.
“Is this a warehouse?” Dalton asked.
“It’s a storehouse for obsolete tech,” Trickster said. “One step up from a junkyard.”
They entered and closed the door. Light leaked through the high windows along the perimeter of the cavernous room—a combination of moonlight and spillover from the streetlights. Large shapes hulked in the dimness, made rounded by plastic tarps.
Trickster led them along a maze of aisles through the shrouded stockpiles. He stopped at a hill of covered machinery and pulled up the tarp.
“This way,” he said, motioning Roulette forward.
She ducked under the tarp cautiously. Cole followed. It was too dark to see much, so he moved slowly, worried about tripping. Roulette guided him between large pieces of equipment to a space in the middle. The others joined them.
“Come on,” Trickster said, hardly raising his voice. “I know you see us, Forge! Let us in.”
A hatch opened in the floor, flooding the space with light. Cole squinted until his eyes adjusted.
Trickster patted Dalton on the shoulder. “Now we’ve made a clean getaway.”
CHAPTER
13
FORGE
At the bottom of a long ladder awaited a room full of machines, computers, worktables, beanbag chairs, shaggy carpets, soda cans, Zowie wrappers, overloaded bookshelves, glowing crystals, faded posters, and a beat-up dartboard riddled with tiny holes. Two ceiling fans turned lazily, barely stirring the stale air.
A guy with greasy hair in a tank top sat cross-legged, tinkering with a little robot. He might have been in his late teens or early twenties. He smiled at Trickster. “I heard you were coming this way.”
“Not from City Patrol I hope,” Trickster said.
“There was plenty of chatter,” a girl said, coming into the room. She wore a scarf in her hair and loose pajamas. Her slippers looked like raccoons. “You guys had them scrambling.”
“Googol called me on my most private communicator,” the guy said. He looked at Mira. “You must be Secret. I’m Forge.” He nodded at the girl. “This is Scandal.”
“These are my friends Cole, Dalton, and Jace,” Mira said. Cole couldn’t help thinking their names sounded boring compared to Scandal, Trickster, and Roulette.
“So far they’re scrappier than they look,” Trickster said, slapping Jace’s arm. “You should have seen this one put a Zero flat on his back. Just grabbed his ankles and yanked the rug out from under him. It was tidy.”
Jace grinned proudly.
“Are you guys Crystal Keepers?” Cole asked.
“Former CKs,” Forge said. “Scandal and I graduated to full membership in the Unseen more than two years ago.”
“They’re both skilled tinkers,” Roulette said. “We call them our Gadgeteers.”
“Googol is the head Gadgeteer,” Forge said.
“We help him design the rigs,” Scandal added.
“We make all kinds of tech,” Forge said. “We run thruports, harvest data, intercept communications.”
“What do the Crystal Keepers mostly do?” Cole asked.
“Energy is transmitted by harmonic crystals,” Roulette said. “If you snag the right crystal, you get access to the entire network of crystals sharing the same harmonics.”
“It’s most valuable for spying,” Trickster said, displaying the communicator they took from the patrolman. “Which reminds me. Here’s another link into City Patrol comms.” He tossed it und
erhand.
“Nice,” Forge said, catching the communicator. “These have little crystals inside. The size doesn’t matter. It’s all about the harmonics.”
“You can also use a crystal to hijack energy,” Scandal said. “The monorail tracks and trains, for example, are powered by crystals harmonically linked to highly juiced crystals inside of power facilities. Tap into that energy, and you can power all sorts of things.”
“What about Sidekick?” Cole asked. “Is he coming in?”
“Sidekick is already here,” Forge said, pocketing the communicator. “The bot will stay outside as lookout. Secret, you’re so young. Why is Googol willing to torch our operations in Zeropolis to bring you in? He doesn’t care if we all go down as long as you’re secure. I’ve never heard him so adamant.”
“We’re not supposed to ask,” Trickster reminded him.
“When has that stopped us?” Forge argued. “We spend all day doing stuff we’re not supposed to do. It’s our job description. What does Googol really expect? He knows who we are. I’m asking. She can tell what she wants.”
“Keeping my identity secret doesn’t just protect me,” Mira said. “It protects you. Trust me. You don’t want to know why the government wants to find me.”
“I know it could endanger me,” Forge said. “And I want to know. I live to uncover secrets. I’m good at keeping them.”
“Me too,” Roulette said softly.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Trickster said. “If you’re spilling, I want in too.”
“Not me,” Scandal said. “I have enough trouble without soaking up high-stakes secrets Googol wants me to avoid.”
Mira glanced at Cole. He could tell that she was wavering. Who wouldn’t? These people were on their side and had just helped them evade capture.
“Up to you,” Cole said.
Mira sighed. “I really shouldn’t. It’s for your own good. Unless things go badly, you’ll find out sooner or later. The secret won’t keep forever.”
“Say no more,” Forge grumbled. “I won’t force the issue. I just couldn’t resist trying.” He rubbed his hands together. “For now, this will be your haven. We’ll wait for orders from Googol. I know you four need fresh ID cards. I’ll get you fed. A place to sleep. Anything else I can do for you?”