CHAPTER 4 #3
The jet sinks lower, the floor shuddering beneath our stilettos as we touch down on the runway.
Through the rain-streaked window, I see armed police and security drones swarming the airstairs of other jets, checking manifests and conducting inspections.
On the tarmac, shiny double-decker hoverbuses shuttle passengers to the Roaring Rails Station, their windows dark, power cores humming above the wind.
Through the dwindling rain, the train station emerges, a winding maze of ornate stone buildings stretching into the first blush of sunrise.
Statues of waltzing figures loom out of the morning fog, surrounded by marble balustrades that crouch over busy terrace cafes and restaurants.
Digital screens flash live footage of hovertrains arriving and departing, like the station's heartbeat.
“You two ready?” Harrison calls as he strides into the lounge. He’s dressed to the nines, with a double-breasted jacket fitted close through the waist, high-waisted trousers sharp with a crease, and shiny patent-leather shoes. A saber hangs from his belt, retracted so only the hilt is visible.
“Depends on what you mean by ready.” Charlotte points at his saber. “You don’t think you’re actually gonna have to use that, do you?”
“We’ll know soon enough.” Harrison’s eyes drop to my waist, and his forehead furrows when he notices I’m unarmed. “Where’s your saber?”
I move toward the hallway mirror, trying to look calm as I pin the daffodil brooch Dad gave me to my dress. “I don’t have it on me.”
Through the mirror’s reflection, I catch Charlotte arching an eyebrow. “Since when do you not carry a saber?”
A Pinkie hands me a fur-lined velvet coat from a stand near the cabin door, and I slip into it, still struggling to control my nerves. Lying has always come easily to me, and sometimes I even enjoy the rush, but not this time.
“I left it in my luggage because I can’t fight right now.” I fidget with my diamond drop earring, then remove my glove and show them my hand. The skin is still raw and scabbed from last night’s fight with my sisters.
Harrison gives the injury a quick look, and his jaw tightens. “This isn’t good, Lore. I didn’t realize I’d have to defend both of us.”
“You mean all three of us,” Charlotte interrupts.
Harrison frowns and looks her over. “You’re hurt, too?”
“No. I never learned to fence.”
“Oh, for shit’s sake.” He drags a hand down his face.
The humiliation burning through me is too painful to hide. I never meant for Harrison to have to protect me. I wasn’t even supposed to fly with him until last night.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” I say.
“It’s… fine.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, where sweat mingles with the waxy pomade. “Let’s just get to the Blood Ring scan.”
We follow him to the front of the jet, where the cabin door is already open, letting in a gust of cold wind that blows rain into my face.
Harrison, Charlotte, and I straighten our postures as heavy footsteps slam against the airstairs below.
Red security drone lasers sweep over me as a muscular man in a black-and-silver T-visor helmet appears in the doorway.
His black three-piece suit matches the gleam of his knee-high boots, and he wears a one-shoulder cape with a firearm holster strapped to his hip.
The lightning-bolt insignia on his shoulder boards and collar patch indicates he’s a police officer. A Copper.
Harrison and the Copper exchange a bow, then the Copper releases the drones. Their mechanical wings beat the air as they glide into every corner of the cabin, scanning for illegal contraband.
“How many passengers are on board your aircraft?” the Copper asks Harrison.
“Three, sir.”
“Any Private People?”
Harrison gestures to Charlotte and me. “Two, sir.”
The Copper’s attention shifts to us, lingering longer on me than on Charlotte. His head tilts slightly, as if he recognizes me from the news, but I can’t tell whether that’s good or bad. I notice a small dent in the side of his helmet, as if someone tried to smash his skull with a rock.
A moment later, the drones return to the front of the cabin and hover behind the Copper. “Aircraft cleared,” one reports.
The Copper turns to Harrison. “Blood Ring, please.”
Harrison extends his hand, revealing a green meteorite ring glinting on his left thumb. Inside the ring are microneedles designed to draw blood for identification tests.
The Copper scans the ring with a biometric device to verify Harrison’s identity. “Welcome back to the Rainbow District, Mr. Somerset,” he says. “You are now cleared to deboard.”
Harrison descends the stairs, sheltered by a Pinkie holding an umbrella, and waits for us at the bottom.
Charlotte is next, but the Copper skips past her, pulling up beside me as closely as a pickpocket.
His breath rasps inside his helmet, and his clothes smell of tobacco mixed with something fragrant and chemical. Bliss.
Now that the Copper is so close, I can see his dilated pupils through the T-visor of his helmet. He’s already going through withdrawals.
“Train ticket, please,” he says.
“Is that necessary, sir?”
“It is if you wish to avoid any unpleasantness.” The Copper steps closer, fingers twitching toward the handcuffs on his belt, and I realize I’m not in a position to argue. As I send him the ticket through my Bond, I glance anxiously at Charlotte.
She nods encouragingly, though her hands are fidgeting. “I have not yet purchased a ticket, sir,” she says. “Must I do so before deboarding?”
“No.” The Copper examines my ticket a moment longer, his boot tapping the floor. Then, with a wave of his hand, he uses the biometric device to scan my Blood Ring. “Welcome to public life, Miss Waldsten. You are now cleared to deboard.”
I perform a stiff curtsy, then move to the doorway and immediately check my Bond. In the center of the screen, a square chart with a number appears: five hundred. Like every Public Person, I start with five hundred civil credits, but the number fluctuates based on my behavior.
If my civil credit score drops below two hundred, I’ll be expelled.
If it drops below one hundred, I’ll be arrested.
And if it drops below fifty, I’ll be executed.