Crystal Keepers (8 page)

The monorail began to slide forward, starting off so gently that it was difficult for Cole to determine when the motion began. Smoothly and steadily they picked up speed. They left the station behind, and the low buildings of the outpost blurred beneath them. Cole leaned his head against the window to enjoy the foreground streaming past.

The monorail reached terrific speed, but inside their compartment Cole could feel no motion. When he closed his eyes, they could have been standing still.

“Are we even moving?” Cole asked. “It's almost like the outside scenery is fake!”

“The monorail is well designed,” Joe said. “It floats on a magnetic cushion and is extremely aerodynamic.”

“I've never imagined anything like this,” Jace asked. “I can't believe the speed!”

“When do we get off?” Dalton wondered.

“Sixth stop from now,” Joe said. “Hanover Station. We'll stop at two other outposts, then pass a few stations in the city.”

“How long?” Dalton asked.

“We have to go more than a thousand miles,” Joe said. “Including the stops, we should arrive in just over four hours.”

Cole gave a low whistle. That was fast!

“Do you know how to find the Unseen?” Mira asked.

“I've been gone for a while,” Joe said. “They change location a lot to stay ahead of the patrolmen. We'll hit a gaming hub called Axis. Cole or Dalton would call it an arcade. Some of the CKs should be there. The Crystal Keepers. They're a gang of gamers who help out the Unseen. They'll know how to help us get in touch with the leadership.”

“Think we can find a thruport?” Cole asked.

“Probably, once we reach the Unseen,” Joe said. “We'll get their help in finding Constance and ask about your slave friends.”

“And I'm going to find out about Headgear,” Jace said. “I want a hat like that robot guy had.”

Joe snapped his fingers. “Whoops, I meant to put some money on your ID cards. We'll have to do that once we get to the city.”

Somebody tapped on the door. Joe opened it to reveal a conductor. “Tickets, please,” the man said.

They handed over their tickets. The man passed a handheld scanner over them, then returned them. “Thanks for riding the monorail,” he said, tipping his hat. Then he backed into the hall and closed the door.

Cole leaned back on his bench. It was comfortable, the cushions a nice blend of soft but firm. He hadn't slept well the night before. He had been excited to see the city, and he had kept thinking about his parents not missing him.

Cole was in the corner by the window, so he leaned his head against the glass. In that position, he could feel the slightest hint of vibration against his skull. It was kind of soothing.

His thoughts turned to Jenna. Where was she now? Was she comfortable? Scared? Was she expecting a rescue? Was she trying to free herself? What if she had made a successful escape? Could she be on the run too?

Hopefully there would be answers in a few hours after he reached the city and the Unseen. What if they traced her ID card and instantly found her? What if he would see her later today? Or tomorrow? The hope seemed too greedy, but he knew it was possible. She had to be somewhere.

Gazing far out the window toward the horizon, Cole lost the sense of their speed. But when he glanced down at the nearby prairie streaking by beneath them, his appreciation was reawakened.

Feeling drowsy, Cole experimented with shutting his eyes. When he woke up, he found that the monorail was inside a station. Jerking away from the window, Cole saw the others eating sandwiches.

“I wondered when you'd join us,” Dalton said around a mouthful. “This is the first stop in the city.”

“We got you food,” Mira said, handing Cole a wrapped sandwich.

“How much longer?” Cole asked.

“The monorail doesn't go as fast inside the city,” Joe said. “About half an hour.”

Cole unwrapped his sandwich and started working on it. The bread was a little stale, and the cuts of chicken inside it a little dry, but the tangy sauce was good, and he was hungry.

As the monorail slid out of the station, Cole watched eagerly out the window for his first view of the city. What he saw delighted him.

He had expected nonstop buildings. And yes, there were some serious clusters of skyscrapers spaced about, tall and elegant, mostly made of metal and crystal. But there were also open areas. Big parks and lakes. Neighborhoods with yards. Mansions with grounds. Huge, low buildings topped with gardens.

Even from the vantage of the elevated track, the city stretched as far as he could see, which led Cole to suppose it might continue well beyond what lay before him. Vehicles zoomed along the dark roads crisscrossing the city. Were they cars? He couldn't see tires. Were they hovering? They all shared a similar design, though the colors varied. It was hard to discern all the details from up high, moving quickly.

“Next stop, Canal Station,” announced the soothing female voice from the speaker in the ceiling. “Please remain in your seats when we stop while the City Patrol arrests a suspect. The all clear will be announced once the suspect is in custody. Walt Boone, please submit quietly.”

C
HAPTER

7

WELCOMING COMMITTEE

J
oe immediately tried the door to the compartment. It was locked. He jiggled the handle roughly, but it only moved a little, and the door had no give.

The compartment was silent as Joe slid back into his seat. He looked ill, his face oddly blank. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. Okay.”

Cole banged the side of his fist against the window. It made no sound. The vault door at a bank might have shown a similar indifference to a punch.

“We're not getting out through the window,” Cole said, hoping to jump-start Joe.

“No,” Joe agreed. “It would take serious tools.” His eyes darted, but Cole wasn't sure he was seeing much. “They must have flagged my ID after all, but let me board. That kind of patience isn't how City Patrol normally works. I should have gone with my gut. The woman at the ID counter seemed a little flustered at first. We've made one stop in the city so far. I bet a bunch of patrolmen got on. Now they're taking me off.”

“What can we do?” Mira asked.

Joe clutched the sides of his head. “A private compartment was a terrible idea. We're stuck here until they come for us.”

The monorail began to slow.

“I should have spaced us throughout the train,” Joe lamented. “We should have sat near exits.”

“Would have, could have, should have,” Jace said impatiently. “What do we do?”

Out the window, the view of the city was replaced by the inside of a building. Signs on the wall declared it
CANAL STATION
. People milled on the platform. The monorail slowed even more.

Cole's mind raced. What could they do? They had no time! They were trapped!

“We let the welcoming committee take us,” Joe said hurriedly. “They'll be ready for trouble. It's the wrong time to resist. I'll comply. They'll focus on me. Come quietly, but move slowly. Stray as far from me as you can. After we're off the monorail, I'll make a run for it. Scatter. Don't stay together. Don't use your ID cards. They're all tied to me now. Jace, keep my travel bag, if you can. All of you make your way to Axis. Leaf Street, near Hanover Station. Across from Zenith Park. Crystal Keepers.”

The monorail had eased to a stop. The compartment door opened. Two heavily built patrolmen filled the doorway.

“What's the problem?” Joe asked politely.

“Joe MacFarland, you're under arrest,” one of the patrolmen said.

“May I ask the charges?” Joe asked.

The patrolman grunted. “Not now. Come with us.”

“I'm not sure what I've done wrong, but I'm all yours,” Joe said.

“The false ID is a start,” the patrolman said, glancing around the compartment. “Who are the kids?”

“Relatives of a friend,” Joe said.

“You're the only adult present?” the patrolman asked.

“That's right,” Joe said.

“We'll have to bring all of you to HQ,” the patrolman said. “Step out into the hall. Joe first.” He backed away from the doorway, allowing room to exit.

After a quick glance at Cole and the others, Joe rose and passed into the hall. The patrolman who had been speaking leaned back into the compartment, all business. “You kids stay with us.”

“Why do we have to come?” Jace complained.

“Let's cut the chitchat,” the patrolman said. “You're with a wanted criminal. Hurry up.”

The patrolman backed out the door. Cole waited while Jace grabbed the travel bag and exited, then watched Mira and Dalton exit as well. What would it mean to go to HQ? It would get ugly fast if anybody figured out Mira's identity. What if the Hunter caught wind of it?

Cole took his time leaving the compartment. They had to try to get away. Maybe by going slow, he could create some space for himself.

Out in the central aisle, Joe stood with his wrists bound in front of him and a patrolman on either side. With his
wrists tied and so many patrolmen around, would he even get the chance to run and make a diversion?

Once Cole exited the compartment, the lead patrolman gave a nod, and the procession started down the aisle toward the exit. Cole only had one patrolman behind him, so he tried to dawdle, crouching to tie his shoe, but the patrolman stayed with him.

As he advanced up the aisle toward the exit, Cole wished for his power back. If he could energize the Jumping Swords and Jace's golden rope, the odds of escape would immediately improve. But searching desperately inside, Cole perceived no trace of his power.

Accompanied by patrolmen, Joe stepped off the monorail. Other patrolmen followed.

The soothing female voice spoke again over the loudspeakers. “You may now exit the train for Canal Station. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Passengers began to rise from their seats and move into the aisle, forcing the patrolman ahead of Cole to pause. Cole flattened himself against the seats at one side of the aisle to allow an older woman to pass. He stayed there, hoping the patrolman behind him might pass him as well, but the patrolman nudged him to continue.

Cole stepped down from the train onto a bustling platform. Some people were boarding the train, others getting off. Looking compliant, Joe stood some distance away with four patrolmen. Jace, Mira, and Dalton were moving in Joe's general direction, while also doing a decent job of spreading out.

Joe briefly met eyes with Cole. Then he bolted, racing down the platform toward the front of the monorail. All of the patrolmen reacted. Most reached for their trapguns, then seemed to think twice about using them on the crowded platform.

Though caught flat-footed, the patrolmen who had stood with Joe took off in pursuit, weapons in hand. Joe turned and raised his bound hands. In them he held a silver tube that Cole remembered from Skyport. Joe had pointed it at the legionnaires when he joined the fight to help Mira escape. Nothing had happened.

This time it worked.

A narrow jet of white material fountained from the end of the tube, staying in a focused stream until it hit the patrolman nearest to Joe and expanded into a dense cloud of foam. The foam only sprayed for a few seconds, but Joe managed to heavily cover two patrolmen and lightly got a third.

The rich lather made Cole think of shaving cream, but as the men coated by the substance slowed down, it became clear that the foam was rapidly hardening. One patrolman tipped over, trapped in a pillowy cocoon, his arms encased in front of his chest, his legs stuck together above the knees. The foamy husk helped break his fall. Another patrolman froze up while wiping the lather off his face. Only his upper body was covered, but he ended up with one hand stuck over his eye, and the other against his neck. A third patrolman had his hand bound to his weapon and his elbow to his side by a large, creamy glob.

Joe kept running, brushing by others in the crowd. As
people saw him coming and made room for him, he swerved toward them rather than accepting the open space. Cole realized that Joe was using the crowd to deny the patrolmen a clear shot.

Cole also abruptly realized that he was unsupervised.

People were still going in and out of the monorail through the door he had just exited. The patrolman who had accompanied him was running after Joe, just like all the others. Taking his ticket from his pocket, Cole turned and boarded the train.

No conductor monitored the door. After stepping aboard with his head down, Cole turned away from the private compartments where he had ridden with his friends. He didn't want to walk by the same people who had watched the patrolmen march him off the monorail.

Moving down the aisle, Cole raised his head and tried to appear casual. Anxiety boiled inside of him. He expected a patrolman to call out to him at any moment. He walked through two cars before choosing an empty seat in a vacant row with a view of the platform. He wasn't sure if the seat required a certain ticket, but he figured he could act really polite and move if somebody called him on it.

Peering out the window, Cole found it mostly looked like business as usual on the platform, though a few people had paused to stare toward the front of the monorail, necks craning, presumably watching the chase. Joe had been sprinting while Cole walked, so unless he got caught right after Cole stopped watching, he was probably a good distance down the platform. Cole couldn't see him from his seat and didn't want to make a show of looking.

Could Joe still be running? Did he have any chance of getting away? There had been a lot of patrolmen present, but if the crowd interfered enough, maybe it was possible. The distraction had sure worked. Cole hoped Dalton, Jace, and Mira had also taken advantage of the opportunity.

Cole silently willed the train to move forward. He didn't think any patrolmen had seen him return to the monorail, but he couldn't be sure. With the patrolmen chasing Joe, how much would they care that the kids who were with him had scattered? Would they bother to search the area?

The nearest exit door slid closed, and the monorail glided forward. The soothing woman came on over the loudspeaker. “Sorry for the delay. Next stop, Rockford Station.”

As the monorail picked up speed, Cole watched out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Joe, trusting the tinting to hide his face from any patrolmen outside the train. Toward the end of the platform, Cole saw a group of patrolmen gathered around a pair of people pinned to the ground by a ropy mass of gray webbing. Due to the increasing speed of the monorail and the presence of the surrounding patrolmen, Cole only caught a quick glimpse of the people beneath the webs. But he knew one of them had to be Joe.

The train passed beyond the station, and once again Cole could see the sights of the city. But his gaze dropped to his lap. He felt guilty for escaping while Joe paid the price. He knew Joe wanted him to flee, but he still felt miserable. Why couldn't Joe have gotten away? What would the patrolmen do to him?

Cole stewed about his other friends. He assured himself
they must have escaped. He couldn't be the only one who had made it. Joe had led the patrolmen on a good chase. He had made it a long way down the platform. Dalton, Jace, and Mira should be long gone.

From his current seat, Cole could see no patrolmen aboard the monorail. If he could make it past Rockford Station to the next stop, he could get off as planned and make his way to Axis. The others who got away would go there too. Then maybe they could contact the Unseen and figure out how to help Joe.

Or maybe none of the others had escaped. Maybe Mira would be discovered. Maybe he had seen the last of his friends.

Maybe he was alone.