Shutdown (Glitch)

on his cheek. I couldn’t tell if it was a tear or leftover gel.
    I started to say something, but then realized he still hadn’t strapped himself in. I swore and grabbed his straps, clicking them together as best as I could. The banging noise got louder.
    I held onto the control stick and said, “Launching in three, two—”
    I watched through the pod’s small window as a bright molten red circle appeared on the blast door out in the corridor. I didn’t bother to finish counting. I hit the launch button.
    Immediately the pod flew up the chute overhead like a supercharged elevator. The force pressed me down against the seat of my chair so hard it felt like I might slam right through it and out the bottom of the pod.
    Several of the packs that should have been stowed securely under our chairs flew out and banged around the floor as the pod rounded a corner and began to accelerate.
    After a moment, the buzzing burst to life in my head again. I was too confused by the speed at first, but I finally realized: I had my telek back. We must have gotten far enough away from the glitcher who muted my powers.
    I let it expand outward and suddenly the speed and force of the module didn’t seem so daunting. I always felt more in control when my telek was active, like the too-fast world of action and reaction was slowed to an acceptable speed. I felt forward down the tunnel we hurtled down until I could see the whole of it in the projection cube in my mind; it looked like a long worm burrowed under the ground and we were a tiny light traveling through its stomach.
    And that’s when I felt the obstruction a couple miles ahead. The whole tunnel was caved in.

 
    Chapter 9
    MY EYES WIDENED AND MY heartbeat sped up. I swore under my breath. At the speed we were going, we’d crash into the caved-in section in less than two minutes. I pulled back my telek from the length of the tunnel and surrounded our pod like a net. I imagined the cords of energy wrapping around it, slowing our speed as gently as I could.
    Adrien’s head still pitched forward with the sudden deceleration.
    I bit my lip hard as I concentrated, trying to transition to lower speeds more gracefully. It would be easier to just bring our pod to an immediate stop, like putting a hand over a rolling marble, but I couldn’t be sure that Adrien and I wouldn’t end up with concussions, or worse.
    Finally we slowed and stopped. And not a moment too soon. I projected outward. The cave-in was only fifty paces ahead. The pod cylinder was on its side at this point in the track. Adrien and I hung suspended from what was now the ceiling, held in only by our buckles. When I released the straps belting me in, I tumbled down to the floor. At least my fall was broken by several of the packs that had become dislodged. I clicked the door-release button, but an error message popped up: E RROR: D ESTINATION NOT ACHIEVED. A UTO-LOCKS REMAIN ENGAGED.
    I impatiently hit the override button, but when the door finally opened, I was met with a wall of rock.
    Shunt. I’d hoped there’d be enough space for us to slip around the sides, but the tunnel around the pod was carved with only inches of clearance. We didn’t have time for this. I was sure the Regs had climbed up onto the pod’s track and were sprinting down the tunnel toward us this very second. I wasn’t sure how far we’d made it—maybe five or ten miles? If it was five, they could cover that distance in ten minutes, maybe less.
    I unstrapped Adrien, lowering him gently to the ground with my telek. Then I turned and put out my arm again, ripping out the ceiling of the pod that faced the collapsed tunnel. It was melded steel alloy, but with my power, the top popped off with no more resistance than the lid on a food canister.
    I grabbed two of the loose packs from the ground, pulled the small rectangular med kit off the wall, and climbed out through the new exit. I looked back. Adrien was slumped against the wall.
    “I’m going to lift you out now.”
    He nodded.
    “Good.” I climbed out through the top of the pod. My mast cells immediately reacted to allergens in the damp tunnel air, but I was practiced enough at deflecting it that I could still lift Adrien’s body out, in addition to keeping the cells under control. Splitting my focus like this used to be difficult. But after months of intense practice, now I didn’t even break a sweat.
    It was pitch black in the tunnel. I must have busted the circuitry on the