Chapter 14

The hatch yielded beneath Raelin’s palm, and cool air slipped through the widening seam. It carried the smell of wet earth and plant decay, with a faint sweetness he could not place. He held still, listening for a change beyond the opening. When none came, he pushed the hatch higher.

Amber light spilled down the walls of the ladder well as the hatch rose, catching on wet rungs and the gray streaks across Raelin’s sleeves. It was his first sign that evening had come. With his OmniLink display dark, the hours since morning had blurred together, marked only by the deepening ache in his shoulders and the tremor in his arms. The hatch lifted a little farther, then stuck. Raelin shifted beneath it, braced one shoulder against the metal, and forced it a handspan higher with a dull scrape. The cuts beneath the wrapping burned.

He raised his head through the opening. A narrow service recess ran along the retaining wall. Beyond its low rail, broad terraces climbed the mountainside, planted edge to edge with rows of trees. Their branches hung low, laden with red and gold fruit clustered among the leaves. Wind moved through them in long waves, turning thousands of leaves at once. The sound was a steady rush, deep and full enough to make him search for water. No image had ever told him trees could be loud.

Raelin followed the moving branches upward. The sky spread above them in a sweep of blue deepening toward violet, broken only by clouds lit gold along their edges. He had seen pieces of it through gaps in the Substructure ceiling, each glimpse hemmed in by rock, concrete, and the city above. Even the largest caverns had given his eyes a ceiling to stop against. Here the sky went on forever, and the sight of so much open space made his stomach lurch and his fingers tighten around the hatch.

Kiri had called it actual open sky, going on forever. He pictured her beside him, face lifted into the evening light, talking too quickly as she tried to take in the fruit, the leaves, and the impossible sky all at once. Instead she was far below, her medication tin beside the mat, expecting him back from a distant salvage site.

His shoulder ached beneath the hatch’s weight, a reminder that he was still balanced on the ladder below. Raelin pushed once more, hooked an elbow over the rim, and dragged himself into the service recess, his pack wedging in the opening before scraping free. He caught the hatch on the way down and lowered it until the metal met the frame with a muted click.

He remained crouched beside the closed hatch, listening until his arms steadied. Then he raised himself enough to look over the service rail. The recess ended a few paces to his left at a maintenance door set into the retaining wall. Beyond the rail, a paved walkway crossed the slope between the orchard rows, empty beneath a line of low path lights.

Raelin eased the pack from his shoulders and drew out the folder. One corner was damp despite the wrapping, the pages beneath it soft and slightly swollen. He found the fragment covering the upper end of the route and angled it toward the fading light. On the diagram, the route emerged beside a retaining wall, followed it for a short distance, then entered a service passage within the wall and continued uphill. The maintenance door to his left was the only opening that fit.

He returned the fragment to the folder, tightened the wrapping around the damp corner, and tucked the bundle beneath one arm. Keeping his head below the rail, Raelin crossed to the maintenance door and lowered the latch a fraction at a time. The mechanism grated inside the door, then the bolt snapped back with a click sharp enough to make him glance toward the walkway. He pulled the door inward. Behind it, a narrow concrete corridor ran beneath the terrace. Four paces in, unfamiliar equipment filled the passage from wall to wall: thick pipes, white boxlike housings, and sealed panels fitted tight against the older concrete. No gap showed along the floor, walls, or ceiling.

Raelin stepped into the corridor. Between two of the thick pipes, chipped gray paint formed the upper corner of an older doorway. The white housings had been mounted directly across it, their rails drilled through the old frame. He crouched and found the lower edge hidden behind a pipe nearly as wide as his chest. Raelin opened the folder again and held the route fragment in the light from the open door. On the page, the line passed through the old doorway and turned uphill. He traced it once with his thumb, then searched the surrounding marks for a branch, a second entrance, any way around the obstruction, but found none.

Raelin closed the folder and backed into the recess. He slid it into his pack, then looked uphill along the orchard rows. At the far end of the paved walkway, a short flight of steps climbed beside the retaining wall to the next terrace. At the top, a second gray maintenance door was set into the same wall, visible between two low-hanging branches.

A cloud crossed the sinking sun, and its shadow moved over the orchard. As the gold faded from the leaves, teal lenses shone at regular intervals from low fixtures beside the walkway, continuing all the way to the upper door. The nearest row of trees ran parallel to the path, their fruit-heavy branches almost meeting between the trunks. From the recess, they looked dense enough to hide him if he stayed low. He could follow the row of trees uphill and leave cover only for the steps and the door.

Raelin glanced back at the closed hatch. Below it lay hours of ladders and wet tunnels, all the way home. He pictured Kiri looking up when he pushed through their curtain, waiting to hear what he had found. He could return, but not with a way to save her. If the upper door rejoined the passage, he could still follow his father’s route toward the Control Nexus.

Raelin eased the maintenance door closed, pulled the pack onto his shoulders, and turned from the hatch. The cloud’s shadow still covered the orchard. He fixed his eyes on the nearest trunk, swung one leg over the rail, and lowered himself onto the soil beside it. Before he could take a step, a hard pulse jolted through his wrist. The OmniLink display he had kept dark since morning blazed azure beneath his skin. Raelin went still. He had not touched it.

A high alarm tone burst from his OmniLink, cutting through the rush of leaves. The sound repeated in a steady pulse that carried across the terrace. Raelin covered the display with his palm and pressed where the mute control should have been, but no controls appeared. The alarm continued blaring beneath his hand.

Then a familiar synthetic voice came through his OmniLink, smooth and reassuring, the same one that had directed Kiri through clinic intake. “Citizen Kestrel. Your current location is incompatible with your Ledger status. Wardens have been notified. Remain in place.”

Raelin pulled his hand away from the blaring OmniLink and ran uphill through the orchard. Loose soil shifted beneath his first stride, and he caught himself against a trunk before pushing on between the trees. Low branches struck his shoulders and scraped across his pack, shaking red and gold fruit loose to thud into the soil behind him. His eyes stayed fixed on the upper maintenance door whenever it appeared between the branches.

Breaking from the trees, Raelin drove up the steps, his boots striking hard against the paving. At the top, he seized the door’s handle and leaned his weight onto it. The mechanism yielded only a fraction before stopping, and the jolt drove pain through his wrapped hand and up his forearm. He changed hands and tried again, more carefully, but the handle held fast.

His fingers closed around the nano-torx driver in his side pocket. He drew it halfway, then stopped. The black access plate had no exposed fasteners, only a sealed casing and a teal light pulsing beneath its surface. Opening it would take more time than the alarm would give him.

He pushed the driver back into his pocket and looked toward the next terrace. The walkway crossed it and rose toward a cluster of pale buildings. He left the door and ran straight up the center of the path.

The path was steeper than it had looked from below. Raelin’s legs shook, and the pack struck his back with every stride. Farther up, two workers in pale green coveralls stood beside a cart stacked with fruit. Both looked up when he came nearer. One leaned toward the other and muttered something Raelin could not hear over the alarm. Their eyes followed him as he passed, but neither called out nor stepped into his path. Raelin kept running.

At the next rise, Raelin glanced back. Beyond the two workers, far down the path, two Wardens in gray uniforms were closing from below. Their uniforms were cleaner than Zane’s tattered one, but the cut was the same, down to the bands around their upper arms. These were light green instead of Zane’s faded red. They remained far behind, but they ran with long, even strides. Raelin faced forward and forced his legs onward.

The orchard ended at the pale buildings. Beyond them, a broad staircase climbed to a promenade overlooking the terraces. Glass-fronted residences rose behind it, their balconies facing the rows of fruit trees below. No gate barred the stairs; teal lenses watched from low pillars on either side. Raelin took the first steps two at a time, then caught the rail when his legs faltered and hauled himself upward. Several people in clean, bright clothes stood along the promenade. By the time he reached the top, all of them were watching him.

Raelin pulled himself onto the promenade. The nearest onlookers recoiled, leaving an empty space around him. The paving stretched broad and unbroken between the residences. Narrow channels of clear water ran beside beds of flowers. Warm light shone through windows taller than he was, revealing rooms larger than his entire home. Looking back past the glass railing, Raelin saw the orchard terraces descending along the mountainside. Above him, slender towers climbed toward the Oracle Spire. A woman drew a child against her side and stepped away from him. Another staircase rose toward the summit. Raelin lurched toward it.

“Citizen Kestrel. Stop where you are.” Two more Wardens stepped from a passage between the residences ahead, their gray uniforms marked with pale blue bands. One moved to the foot of the next staircase while the other crossed toward the glass railing. Behind Raelin, boots struck the promenade as the Greenbelt Wardens reached the top. The onlookers drew back toward the buildings. Before the Warden reached the railing, Raelin lowered his head and ran for the opening.

The Warden caught Raelin’s sleeve as he squeezed past. The wet fabric tore, and Raelin stumbled free, striking his left shoulder against the railing. The staircase was still blocked, so he followed the promenade around the nearest building. Ahead, it widened into a plaza lined with restaurants. Warm light from their open fronts fell across outdoor tables where diners ate their evening meals. Conversations faltered as he ran among them, the alarm blaring from his wrist.

White tablecloths covered the outdoor tables, set with sliced fruit and narrow glasses of amber, crimson, and shimmering green drinks. Raelin ran along the aisle, his wet boots leaving dark tracks across the spotless paving. “What is that smell?” a woman exclaimed, covering her nose with a folded napkin. A server carrying a silver tray froze ahead, and Raelin swerved around her. “Substructure rat,” a man murmured behind him. Beyond the server, a blue-banded Warden stepped into the aisle.

“Do not resist!” the Warden shouted. Raelin turned toward the open space beside the nearest restaurant, but the Warden moved across it. Behind him, the Greenbelt Wardens spread to either side of the aisle. Raelin tried to change direction again. His right knee buckled. The Warden caught him before he struck the paving and forced one arm behind his back. Another seized his other wrist and pressed two fingers to the azure display. It flashed teal beneath them. The alarm fell silent.

The alarm’s absence left the clink of cutlery and the diners’ lowered voices. Someone began to clap. Another diner joined, then another, until applause filled the plaza. One Warden worked the pack from Raelin’s shoulders while two others held his arms. “Wait!” Raelin drove forward as the blue-banded Warden lifted it away. The others locked their grips and dragged him back. A hard electric hum rose beside him.

The clapping did not falter when the shockstick touched Raelin’s side. Every muscle seized. His back arched, but the Wardens held him upright and kept the tip pressed against him. The white tablecloths blurred. Amber, crimson, and green smeared together beneath the restaurant lights before turning to gray. Then everything went black to the sound of applause.