Liberty (7 page)

“I see.”

I took the vial out of Berrett’s hands and clasped the chain around my neck. “Everyone who knew about this flarking thing is dead except me. The only reason I’m still alive is because I’ve hidden so well for the past five years, and now my cover is blown. If the SUN finds me, I’m dead.”

“And how would leaping from an exploding ship
not
result in your death, exactly?”

“I had it handled, okay? I just hadn’t worked out the details.” I ignored Berrett’s laughter. “Look, if I’m going to die, I’d like to be the one to decide how it goes down, alright?”

“I guess I can appreciate that. Well, in that case, let’s get moving. You’ll be alright at the safe house. Just keep your nose down and follow my lead.”

I hesitated. “You sure the Underground is going to be willing to help me?”

“They sent me here to save you. I seriously doubt their next move is torture.”

I nodded, too tired to argue anymore. I had held everything so close to the vest for so long, carrying the burden of responsibility alone for what felt like a lifetime. In that instant, without even being totally aware of it, I handed it all to Berrett.

It felt good.

Berrett pushed his visor back down and wrapped his arms around my stomach. I tried to ignore the affect his arms snaking around my abdomen had on my hormones. I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly as the tips of my toes left the earth. I held on tight to his forearms, but even if I hadn’t, he held me tight enough. I wasn’t going anywhere. As we flew above the trees, the sun sank behind the clouds. Pale pinks and reds streaked across a windswept sky, making way for the periwinkle shades of twilight. A few stars peered out high above us. It was beautiful.

As we made our way north, the crumbling, dusty skyline of Manhattan grew larger and larger. I wondered what it had been like years ago when it was teeming with life, the center of the known world. I wondered about the kind of people who had worked there, who had decided that space really was the final frontier, and they were going to be the ones to tame it. I wondered if they had known that by doing so, they would leave New York City cracked and empty, like an old beer bottle, hollow and forgotten in the corner of a tavern shelf.

It was a town inhabited by polar opposites; those who ran the world—the System, really—and those too poor to get off it. I wondered very much about how it had looked seventeen years ago, when I was born. I had no idea where my parents had lived when I was a baby, only that I had been born in New York City.

I wondered if I had been born in a Settlement.

As we drew closer to the city, the only exception to the desolation was the Settlement surrounding the SUN Plaza. Berrett got just close enough for me to see the glittering glass skyscraper and perfectly manicured grounds.

“See that?” he yelled.

I nodded.

“Good. Stay away from it.”

I frowned.
What kind of an idiot does he think I am, anyway?

We turned south and flew along the riverside. The stench of raw sewage incited my gag reflex. The farther we went, the more dismal the city and her people became. The skyscrapers were empty, save for a few flickering candles that shone pale through the filthy lower level windows. Broken signs were rotting off abandoned shops and the streets were filled with tattered beggars. Berrett came to a stop in front of a run-down brick building. Above the wrought-iron door was a faded painting of crossed Irish and American flags. The smell of smoke, alcohol, and vomit wafted out from the inside. A rotting sign above the painting read
McSorely’s Old Ale House, Established 1854.

“This
is your safe house?” I asked. “It looks like a lot of things, but safe isn’t one of them.”

T
HE FRAMED PICTURES AND PAPERS ON THE WALLS WERE FADED,
frail, and wildly juxtaposed with an enormous cast-iron fish that hung behind the bar. Candelabras jutted out from the walls—most places had used up their government-issued power by this time of night, and McSorley’s was no exception. Above the bar hung the most disturbing chandelier I had ever seen. Wax from the candles dribbled into layers and layers of dust, and what appeared to be wishbones dangled off the crossbar. Only slightly more disgusting was the low-hanging smoke and dubiously clumped sawdust piled on the floor.

Ew.

“I don’t like this,” I hissed.

“You got a better idea?” asked Berrett. He took my hand and pulled me deeper into the crowded room. “I promise, you’re safe.”

“I bet this place is literally crawling with health code violations. I just met you a couple of hours ago, and may I remind you, you
dropped
me.”

“Would you stop bringing that up? You’re fine.”

“Fine? I—”

Berrett whirled around and slapped his hand against my mouth. “We have to keep a low profile, and I would really appreciate it if you would just stop talking for a second. Okay?”

I nodded. His hand was still covering my lips. I thought about sticking my tongue out, but I think he could see where my thoughts were headed and he pulled his hand away before I could.

Berrett tucked me into a corner of the room. “Wait here.”

He elbowed his way to the bar. I watched him exchange words with the barkeep—a tall, rugged looking man with a salt and pepper mustache and an enormous pair of glasses. He looked more like a bouncer than a barkeep, and he would have been intimidating if it weren’t for his tendency to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his fist and smile broadly as he spoke with Berrett. The exchange ended, and Berrett returned to the corner I had curled into.

“Alright, let’s get you some food,” he said. “You look awful.”

“Nice. Thanks. What a gentleman,” I mumbled.

He was probably right, though, and frankly, I was starting to feel awful.

Berrett grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the back wall of the bar. I hated being pulled around like a little child. I was used to being the one calling the shots. For the moment, however, I had no alternative. Berrett was right. I had to lay low if I wanted to get off Earth in anything other than a body bag.

Berrett stared at the back wall, looking for something among the faded tapestry of dust-covered frames. Then he reached for a door handle I hadn’t even seen.

“Wait here for a second, okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

He disappeared into the wall and I was left to speculate on the stories of the poor souls around me. Most of the patrons were clad in the usual System garb. Patched up jeans, flannel shirts with frayed cuffs, heavy boots—stuff you could wear for twenty years if you had a good sewing kit. I guessed that most of the patrons would never have the money for another pair of shoes. Most of them probably couldn’t afford the ale they were drinking.

A few minutes later, Berrett poked his head back through the wall and dragged me in. Behind the wall was a room that, for all intents and purposes, you would never know existed if you weren’t looking for it.

Round tables were surrounded by rickety chairs that looked like they were from another century. A haze of gossamer smoke hung in the air. Cards, laughter, conversation—all came to a screeching halt as I stepped into the room.

A red-haired woman with deep lines carved into her face stared at me over thick glasses. She slid off a wobbly bar stool and cleared her throat. “You got a name, girl?”

I looked at Berrett. He nodded.

“Tabitha Dixon.”

“Well, Tabitha, you’re a wanted woman.” She stepped toward me and pointed to a huge screen on the wall behind me. “Check out the news.” She nodded to a younger girl and the screen came to life. An image of my face was displayed with the name Trudy Loveless below it.

“...
that Tabitha Ray Dixon, long thought dead, is in fact alive and at large. She is wanted for crimes against the System of United Nations. If you have any information as to her whereabouts, please contact us immediately.”

“Flarking skud,” I said. I slid into a chair and started picking at my fake fingertips. Trudy Loveless was no good to me now.

The redhead nodded to the girl again and the screen went blank.

I was in deep skud.

“Do you know where you are? Miss Dixon? Tabitha?”

Whether it was the smoke or the hunger or the shock of being discovered, I wasn’t sure, but something was making the room spin violently before my eyes.

“Berrett?” I whimpered.

Almost immediately, a plate of cheese and crackers was thrown on the table, along with a glass of ginger ale.

“You need to eat something. Try this.” He nudged the food toward me.

Against my better judgment, I put a slice of the cheese between two crackers and started chewing. About three bites in, I felt my stomach hit my shoes. I fell to the sawdust and puked my guts out.

“Frank, more sawdust!” yelled Berrett.

“Need ... ginger ale,” I whispered. Stars danced in front of my watering eyes. There had been far too much vomiting in my life lately.

Berrett leaned down and handed me my glass.

I nodded my thanks, swirled the ginger ale around in my mouth, and spit into the sawdust.

“Useful stuff, that,” I said. Berrett chuckled as he helped me crawl back into my chair. I tried nibbling on another cracker—minus the cheese. In fact, at that particular moment, I considered swearing off cheese for the rest of my life.

“You’re going to be okay, kid,” said the redhead. “Just shock, I bet.”

“Mmfine,” I mumbled. I closed my eyes and slumped back in the chair.

“Sure you are. Here, Berrett, stick this on her forehead.” I felt a cool cloth being placed on my forehead and immediately felt less disgusting. “Berrett, what’s her name?” I asked.

“I’m Tess,” said the redhead. “While you’re recovering, we’re going to take care of some business. Renny, you’ve been an apprentice on a number of missions and have proven your metal ten times over.”

I heard Tess walk back toward her stool. I peeked out from under the cloth to see who Renny was.

“You’re one of our bravest initiates yet,” added Tess. “You should be proud of yourself.”

To my surprise, a little boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten years old, sat perched on Tess’s stool, cradling a glass that I sincerely hoped was filled with water and smiling at the crowd like he had just won Child of the Year.

“Okay, Ren, quiz time,” said Tess. “What is the mission of the Underground?”

“To reclaim our freedom.”

“How?”

“By rallying all Underground forces across the System and claiming a planet for ourselves, and by using any means necessary to weaken the SUN.”

My jaw dropped. I had no idea the Underground was so ambitious.

“And why was the Underground formed?” asked the redhead.

The boy shifted in his stool. I could practically hear the gears spinning in his head as he tried to come up with the right answer.

“Well ... there was the Third War after Mars was terraformed, where all the Earth countries fought over who got what land and which planets.”

“Then what?” asked Tess.

“Then they created the System of United Nations, and they took all the power because it was easier to control things that way.”

I smiled darkly.
That is so not the history lesson I got at the Académie.

“You got it, kiddo,” said Tess. “Not just political power, either, huh?”

“Nope,” said Renny. “They created a ... um, a senate? And gave each planet a governor, but that was just to make people happy and stop asking questions and stuff. Then the electricity was rationed, at first to help save, um ... resources? Um, but then it became a way to control people and information and stuff. Now we only get so much power every day, and it makes it really hard to get news. Well, true news, anyway.”

“And a lack of information is a lack of power,” said Tess.

“But the SUN Plaza up the road, and President Forsythe’s house, and the cabinet’s houses in the Settlement, they always have power, even at night.” The boy fidgeted with the hem of his homespun shirt. “Oh! And they monitor everything online, and say it’s for keeping peace, but that’s not really true. Am I done?”

Tess smiled. “You’re in.”

Cheers and huzzahs erupted. It was like a pep rally. Heck of a lot of good it would do them, sitting and talking and ceremonializing instead of working together to actually accomplish something. I had never seen them accomplish anything worthwhile, and I had been sailing the System for more than a year.

“Are they serious?” I asked.

“What?”

“If these folks are so committed, why don’t they stop talking and do something about it?”

Suddenly, all eyes were on me. You could have heard a pin drop in spite of the sawdust, it was that quiet. Apparently, vomiting into the sawdust was far more commonplace than a teenage girl thinking out loud.

“So glad you’re feeling better,” said Tess, “but you have no idea what you’re saying.” She walked toward me one very intimidating step at a time. I sat up in my chair and clutched at my cold cloth, trying to look dignified and feeling like crap.

Tess continued. “Since you’re new, let me enlighten you. You want our help? Prove that you are worth your weight. We talk about things to get us through, but if it weren’t for that secret door hiding us from the outside world, most of us would be dead already simply for
disagreeing
with the SUN. The laws of the old States were overruled long ago, along with the right to dissent.”

I cleared my throat.

“So, let me see if I understand,” I said. The crackers were starting to stick as I stood up and looked Tess square in the face. “You’re okay just sitting here like a jackwagon, talking about freedom. Not actually
doing
anything about it, mind, just talking about it. Having Berrett here run letters for you, and starting a few risk-free fires here and there for the SUN to put out. And when you die, what then? Planning on handing this mess you didn’t have the guts to clean up over to your children?”

“Dix!” hissed Berrett.

“No, I’m not,” said Tess. “Which brings us to you. You want our protection? You give us something in return. Berrett tells us you have something that could change the future for our cause.”