Prodigy

out of the ship, the new ones are starting to form long lines at the entrance ramps. I watch as each one passes through a quick inspection, ID check, and body scan. Far below us, more cadets are accumulating near the elevator doors.
    Suddenly I pause.
    “What’s the problem?” Kaede snaps.
    I hold up a finger. My eyes are fixed on the ground, frozen on a familiar figure who’s cutting his way through the crowd.
    Thomas.
    This trot’s tracked us all the way from Los Angeles. He stops now and then to question what seem like random soldiers. With him is a dog so white, it stands out like a beacon from this height. I rub my eyes to make sure I’m not hallucinating. Yep, he’s still there. He continues to weave his way through the crowd, one hand on the gun at his waist, the other holding the leash to that enormous white shepherd. A small line of soldiers follows him. My limbs turn numb for an instant, and suddenly all I see is Thomas lifting his gun and pointing it at my mother, Thomas beating me to a pulp in a Batalla Hall interrogation room. My vision swims in red.
    Kaede notices what’s holding my attention and turns her head down to the ground floor too. Her voice snaps me back. “He’s here for June,” she whispers. “Keep moving.”
    Immediately I begin to crawl again, even though my whole body’s shaking. “June?” I whisper back. I can feel my rage rising. “You guys put
him,
of all people, onto June’s trail?”
    “It was for a good reason.”
    “And what’s that?”
    Kaede sighs impatiently. “Thomas won’t hurt her.”
    Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm.
I force myself to keep going. No choice but to trust Kaede now. Eyes forward. Keep moving. My hands tremble and I fight to steady them, to push down my hatred. The thought of Thomas putting his hands on June is more than I can bear. If I focus on that now, I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else.
    Stay. Calm.
    Below us, Thomas’s patrol keeps making their way through the masses. He’s gradually moving toward the elevators.
    We reach the hull of the ship. From here, I can see the line of soldiers waiting to get in via the ramps. That’s when I hear the white shepherd’s first bark. Thomas and his soldiers are now gathered at one of the elevator terminals. The same one we went through. The dog is barking relentlessly, his nose pointed at the elevator door, his tail wagging.
Eyes forward. Keep moving.
    I glance back down at the ground level. Thomas has one hand pressed tightly against what must be his earpiece. He stands there for a minute, as if struggling to understand something he’s hearing. Then, suddenly, he shouts at his men and they start heading away from the elevators. Back into the crowds of soldiers.
    They must have found June.
    We make our way across the shadows of the pyramid’s ceiling until we’re perched close enough to the dark side of the ship’s hull. It looms a good dozen feet away from us, with only a lone metal ladder running vertically up its side to the top of the ship’s deck. Kaede readjusts her balance on the metal beams, then turns back to me. “Make the first jump,” she says. “You’re better.”
    Time to move. Kaede shifts enough so I can get a good angle on the ship. I adjust my footing, brace myself, hope my leg stays intact, then take a giant leap. My body slams against the ladder bars with a muffled thud, and I grit my teeth to keep from yelling. Pain lances up and down my healing leg. I wait for a few seconds, letting the strain die down before I start climbing again. I can’t see the patrol anymore from this back side, but that means—hopefully—that they can’t see us either. Better yet, I hope they’re gone. Behind me I hear Kaede take her own leap and hit the ladder several feet below me.
    Finally, I reach the garbage chute opening. I launch off from the ladder—my hands catch the side of the chute and my arms swing me right into the darkness. There’s another jolt of pain, but the leg still pulses with newfound energy, strong for the first time in a long time. I dust off my hands and stand up. The first thing I notice inside the chute is the cold air. They must have the insides of the ship cooled for the launch.
    Moments later, Kaede swings inside too. She winces, rubbing at the cast of her still-injured arm, then shoves me in the chest. “Don’t just stop like that in the middle of a climb,” she snaps. “Always keep moving. We can’t afford for you to be