Terra (15 page)

Mica takes in the story with surprising acceptance, though I suspect that’s at least partly because Adam glosses over some of the more outrageous parts. In particular, he leaves out the whole thing where he can move things with his mind. I don’t have a chance to bring it up, however, as Mica is overflowing with questions and won’t let me interrupt.

“You have to take me there,” Mica says after asking his tenth question about the workings of the biodome. “I’ve got to see it!”

“No way,” I say immediately. “We literally
just
sat through a Full Council Assembly explaining why that’s an absolutely terrible idea. Guardsmen will be crawling all over the place. Sorry, bud. Not worth the decontamination time.”

Mica pouts, but doesn’t press the issue. I’m a little surprised he gives up so easily; he must realize how serious the Tribunal is about the quarantine violation.

“I’ll be right back,” Adam says, excusing himself to use the restroom.

As soon as the bathroom door is shut, I grab Mica’s wrist across the table. “Mica,” I whisper, “there’s something I need to tell you about Adam.”

“Man, he is the coolest! I’ve never met someone from up top who was so, I don’t know, normal. And he’s so smart. I can’t believe you almost didn’t bring him back with you,” Mica gushes.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s awesome, I get it. You need to be careful, Mic. We barely know anything about him.”

“What are you talking about? And why are you whispering?”

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t get too attached. There’s a lot he’s hiding from us.”

“Now you’re just being paranoid,” he says.

“Will you shut up and listen to me? Adam has this… ability.”

“Huh?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but he can move things. With his mind. Without touching them.”

“What, like telekinesis?” he scoffs loudly.

“Shh!”

“You must have given yourself a serious concussion, sis.”

“Something that might be easily remedied if you would just let me get some rest,” I grumble. “But I’m being serious.”

“She’s not lying.” Adam’s voice makes me jump.

“I’m sorry,” I say sheepishly, feeling the heat flare in my cheeks as Adam returns to his seat. “I just wanted to—”

“It’s fine,” Adam says curtly, then softens his tone. “If he’s even half as much of a danger magnet as you, I’d have ended up using it in front of him eventually, just to save him.”

My face scrunches into a scowl.

“I would appreciate it, however, if neither of you spread this around while I’m in town,” he continues.

“Can we backtrack for a second?” Mica says. “Are you seriously trying to tell me you’re telekinetic?”

“Afraid so,” replies Adam. “Except we call it ‘FX’.”

“Prove it.”

I spin around in my chair to face Adam. “You don’t have to do that.”

He seems to deliberate for a second, before cracking his lopsided grin. Without warning, a pillow from the couch zooms into the back of Mica’s head.

“Hey!”

I burst out laughing. “You get what you asked for, brother.”

Mica eyes Adam cautiously. “Do that again,” he says.

With a flick of his wrist, Adam sends another pillow careening toward my brother, who catches it deftly this time.

“Amazing.” Mica whoops with elation as Adam begins spinning his dinner plate. It rings softly as it twirls on the kitchen table. He jerks his wrist in rhythm with the spinning dishware and, as the plate pirouettes, bits of stuck-on glug fly off; a fleck lands on my cheek.

“Whoops,” Adam says, breaking his focus. The plate clatters to a stop.

“Thanks for that,” I say, flicking the speck off my face. “Are we done now?” Though I know it should still be jarring to see the exhibition of Adam’s abilities, my exhaustion has overtaken my better judgment. I’ve had enough of the spectacle for today.

“How do you do it?” says Mica. “It’s got to be some kind of, what? Magnetics? Nanorobotics? And why haven’t we heard about it?”

“You really think that people up there would want us knowing about something like this?” I say before Adam has a chance to respond.

“I guess not,” Mica says, his brow furrowed. “But why would you need this kind of ability as a researcher? If you were military or something then sure, maybe…” He trails off as he dives deeper into thought.

Under normal circumstances, I might wonder the same things. As it is, however, all I can do is yawn.

“I think we should probably call it a night. Your sister’s been through a lot today,” Adam says.

I pump my fist victoriously in the air. They both laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Mica says as he walks into his bedroom. A moment of awkward silence passes between Adam and me.

“So, I guess you’ll want to get going,” I say to Adam. “There’s a place at the edge of the East Q you can stay. I’ll, um, give you directions.”

“That’d be great,” he says, eagerly picking up his pack and throwing it over his shoulder. “Hey, um, do you know if there have been any other people who have passed through town recently? People like me?”

“I don’t think there are many people like you,” I say jokingly as I rise from my seat. “But the only new skydwellers I see around here are part of the guardsmen rotation.”

“Oh, okay,” Adam says with forced casualness.

“Are you… are you thinking about the rest of your research team?” I ask.

He shrugs and moves toward the front door. “I was just wondering if they might’ve passed through here at some point. Not a big deal. Now how about those directions?”

As I reach for the doorknob, Mica wanders back out of his bedroom with a pillow and pile of blankets stacked on his arms. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Adam’s going to go check into the hostel,” I explain.

“What? No way,” Mica protests, dropping the pile of bedding on the couch. “It’s so late. Why wouldn’t he just stay here?”

I cross the room to stand next to my brother. “That’s not a good idea,” I say, lowering my voice.

“Why not?” Mica says defiantly.

“We’ve already got too many eyes on us,” I say. “We don’t need to provide any more reasons for someone to sniff around our business, and that includes harboring a skyboy.”

“Don’t you think that kicking him to the curb in the middle of the night is a
bit
more suspicious than letting him stay? Skydwellers don’t exactly flood the hostel on a regular basis, sis.”

I glance guiltily at Adam, who is shifting his weight from leg to leg and fidgeting with the straps on his pack.

“Don’t worry about me,” Adam says to Mica. “I really should get going. I don’t want to impose any further.”

“You’re not imposing,” Mica protests. He turns to me with pleading eyes. “Come on, Terra.”

“Mica, I…”

“He saved your life.” Mica puts the final, guilt-tripping flourish on his plea, and I’m too exhausted to argue further. Mica’s hero worship aside, I guess there are worse things than Adam staying here. At least I’ll be able to keep an eye on him.

“Fine,” I say to Adam. “You can sleep on the couch.” A brief flash of disappointment crosses Adam’s face as he glances subtly from the couch to the door. But when he looks back at Mica, the hesitation has shifted into a lopsided grin.

“Will do, boss,” Adam says, lowering his pack down and walking over to the couch.

I’m too tired to coherently bid either of them good night. I simply wobble into my bedroom and close the door behind me as I kick off my shoes. I pull my hair out of its bun, still wet where I coiled it in the middle. Without another thought, I flick off the lights and collapse into bed, fully clothed.

Not a minute after my head hits my pillow, there is a gentle knock on my door. With a groan, I prop myself up on one elbow just as Adam pokes his head into the room.

“Goodnight, Terra,” he says.

“Oh. Sure,” I say, flopping back down. “G’night.”

“And thanks,” he adds softly.

“For what?” I murmur, already half asleep.

If he says something else, I don’t hear it. All I hear is the soft click of the door closing behind him before I drift off.

Chapter 13

Clang.

I wake with a jolt. It’s too warm; my sheets are damp with sweat and the clothing I fell asleep in sits in a heap on the floor. Bright light streams in through my window, a far cry from the gray morning light I’m accustomed to waking to. I don’t think I’ve slept this late, well, ever.

I sit up and stretch my arms over my head, savoring the pops of my vertebrae as they settle. I smack my tongue a few times in my dry mouth; I’m thirsty. I guess sleeping for God-knows-how-long will do that to you.

I swing my stiff legs over the side of my bed and bend over, feeling blindly for Mica’s backpack. I yank it up to the bed and pull out my canteen. I greedily drain its last drops of water before unscrewing the filter ring from around its mouth. I pull out the other filter from the backpack and slip both rings onto the middle finger of my left hand. Mica will want to see these.

My thirst temporarily sated, I pull out the machine, anxious to inspect it more closely. But before I can begin my examination, something interrupts me.

Clang.

The familiar sound rings from outside my bedroom door. I suspect it may be the reason I woke up in the first place.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

I jump out of bed—the muscles in my legs ache with every step—and shove the machine haphazardly into one of my dresser drawers, grabbing some clothing that I hope is clean.

“What’s going on?” I say, limping out into the main room as I pull my arm through my tank’s second sleeve hole.

A metal bowl rolls out of the kitchen and clatters to a stop at my feet. Mica, his shirt untucked lazily, chases after it with outstretched arms. He grabs it and quickly stands up.

“Morning sis,” he says brightly.

“What’s with the noise?” I ask, bewildered.

“Sorry, sorry,” Adam calls as he appears from the kitchen. Another one of my father’s shirts hangs open, revealing his chest. “That was my fault.”

“Um, what was your fault?” I turn back to Mica. “And why aren’t you at school?”

“It’s the weekend, Terra.” He rolls his eyes and takes the bowl back into the kitchen.

“Oh. Right.” Suddenly I am very tired again. “What time is it?”

Adam shrugs. “A little past noon, maybe.”

My mouth pops open. “What?”

“Did you get enough sleep?” Adam continues.

I can’t tell if he’s mocking me, so I ignore his question and follow Mica into the kitchen.

The contents of our pantry are strewn about the kitchen; pots and pans litter the floor. Mica is on his hands and knees pulling pieces of flatware from underneath the refrigerator.

“What exactly have you two been doing in here?”

“Um,” Mica says, pulling himself upright. “Nothing?”

I stare at him pointedly.

“I was just trying to find some breakfast. Well, I guess it’s more like lunch now. The kitchen just got… kind of messy in the process,” he confesses.

I open my mouth to protest his blatant understatement, but Mica continues before I have a chance to interject.

“I guess we really did finish off the Rations last night.” He can barely keep the glee from his voice.

“If you already realized that, why did you have to tear the kitchen apart?”

“Well, I don’t know, I thought maybe you had some extra cans hidden away. Like, a secret hoarder stash or something.”

I glare at him.

“Adam wouldn’t let me wake you up to ask, so I was just making sure we really were out.”

“Uh huh.” I look at Adam who simply shrugs in return.

Useless.

“I’m sorry, Mic. I meant to get up earlier and go pick some more food up,” I say.

“No worries,” Mica says lightly. “Adam gave me his last bar thingy this morning, so I’ve been good ‘til now.” He returns to the mess at hand, humming a little. I can’t remember the last time he seemed in such high spirits. I surreptitiously pinch the underside of my forearm, just to make sure I’m not still sleeping.

“Mica got a little overzealous with the search, I think,” Adam says with that lopsided grin on his face. “Sorry we woke you.”

“No, it’s fine,” I say. “I should’ve been up a while ago. I never sleep this late.”

“Yeah, you never snore that loud either.” Mica is half-buried inside the cabinet he’s restocking. “What does it matter anyway?” he says as he pops back out. “It’s not like you have anywhere to be. You sure aren’t going scavenging right now. Or, you know, ever again.”

I widen my eyes warningly at Mica. I’ve made it this far without mentioning our credit balance to Adam. I can’t have him asking questions that might lead him to the machine sitting in my dresser drawer. “That’s enough, Mic,” I warn.

“What?” Mica pipes up. “Adam’s on my side about the payout.
He
thinks we should actually be buying things.”

“Ah, so you two have already been chatting away,” I say, trying to mask my nervousness. I wish I’d taken the time to conceal the machine a little better.

“I just think you can afford a weekend off,” Adam says.

“It’ll be a lot longer than that. The other scavs around here don’t exactly like being shown up, especially by me,” I explain. “It’s just easier if I lay low for a while. Actually, considering everything that’s happened, we should all probably follow that rule today. No need to draw more attention to our, er, situation.”

“Lame,” says Mica.

“Totally,” says Adam. They both grin widely at me.

“Great. The two of you are on the same side now? This bodes well for me,” I mutter sarcastically.

“Don’t forget, we do still need something to eat,” Mica says.

“I tried to get him to test out the sustenance generator,” Adam chimes in, “but I don’t think he was convinced.”

I wrinkle my nose as I remember Adam’s description of what the generator produces, and can’t say I blame Mica. “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “I’ll pick up a few things to tide us over until the Rationing next week.”

“We’re still going to participate in the Rationing? No way.”

“Yes way. We’ve been over this. Just because we
have
the steel doesn’t mean we have to
spend
it.” I don’t want to sour Mica’s good mood with this argument again, but I’m not ready to tell him my plan for our fortune.