Chapter Seventeen Arturo
Seventeen
Arturo
“These people never seem to sleep,” I said.
“More accurately,” Suki said from my bag, “they never seem to sleep at the same time.”
Alanik and I sat on a bench near the coliseum, watching the crowds, Suki riding in my pack and Hoid in hers. Gilaf hung out near the staff entrance, waiting as the shift emptied to see how many new workers arrived.
“This is normal on ReDawn,” Alanik said. “Our day cycle is too long to stay awake, so we alternate sleep cycles. That way, the city can run regardless of whether it’s light or dark.”
“It’s never going to get dark,” I said. “And if they don’t have a night cycle where most of the city goes to sleep, we can’t wait for the streets to clear before we try to sneak in.”
“Once we’re inside the arena, no one will see us from the street,” Alanik said. “Are you delaying because you’re afraid?”
“What?” I said. “No! What would I be afraid of?”
“I’m afraid,” Suki said. “We’re stuck in unknown territory with very little idea how we might ever get home.”
“That’s the point of this investigation,” I said. “To figure out what’s going on and find a way out.”
“Still, there are many things to be afraid of,” Alanik said. “Getting caught. Facing danger without a ship to protect you.”
Okay, I was worried about that. I was out of my element and I knew it. But I had a pistol in my pack, along with a hyperdrive slug and a cytonic next to me. All of that meant I shouldn’t be afraid.
But I was. Watching the sky, I didn’t see a single drone patrolling, looking for us.
I told myself that was a good thing. It meant we could do our jobs without anyone shooting at us—or worse, shooting at bystanders trying to get to us.
But I worried the fight might start at any moment, and when it did, some of these people would be in the way.
And somewhere deep down, maybe I even wished someone would shoot at us, because that was a simple problem, one I knew how to handle. Information gathering was less familiar, and therefore more scary.
The fact that this made sense to me probably meant I was irrevocably screwed up.
“We’re going to be fine,” I said. “I’m more worried about the others.”
I didn’t like the idea of leaving my team to deal with a delicate situation without me.
If I was going to put someone in danger, I always wanted it to be me.
Being flightleader meant I had to fight that impulse every moment.
Jorgen told me leaders had to hang back sometimes and delegate risks, because losing a leader in the heat of battle was the worst thing that could happen to a team.
It wasn’t that I was more selfless than Jorgen; he was just better at letting logic rule his choices.
I might have found his reasoning more compelling if I had a handle on my own vision for this particular mission. I felt like we were flying blind.
I wondered if our diplomatic team would have felt as lost as I did. I almost asked as much, but thought better of it. I was the commander. I needed to at least look like I knew what I was doing.
Gilaf returned from his post by the service doors.
With his back to the street, he turned on his pin, speaking low so no bystanders would hear his voice.
“The last shift seems to have left,” he said.
“I counted only six workers going in for the next shift. Even if they are all security, the arena is huge. We should be able to avoid them.”
“Now is the time to go in then,” I said. “Let’s check around back, see if there’s a way we can slip in without being noticed.”
Gilaf nodded, walking ahead. Alanik followed with her pack slung over her shoulder.
She marched forward with purpose. Alanik never appeared lost, never lacked direction.
She’d been trained as a spy before she came to work with us, and I wondered if that gave her confidence in situations like this.
She seemed preternaturally confident—it was hard to imagine her any other way.
“Is this part of your spy training?” I asked. “Walking like that?”
Alanik gave me a confused glance over her shoulder. “Like what?”
“With confidence. Like you know what you’re doing.”
She looked even more bewildered. “Arturo, I’m just walking. Why are you thinking about it so much?”
My face flushed. Stars, I was not supposed to be obsessing over Alanik’s gait. I was not supposed to be thinking about her at all. I was supposed to be focused on our mission, which meant thinking about the best way to get past coliseum security.
I outpaced Alanik and Gilaf, leading the team away from the main entrance and around a section of the building lined by a wall about two meters in height that concealed half of the ground level from the adjacent apartment buildings.
We found another pair of wide doors, though these were locked.
We could try breaking in, but the resulting noise would no doubt summon security.
The archways on the upper floors, though, were wide open, like a series of mouths all yawning in the breeze. I pointed at one. “What do you think about climbing?”
Alanik shrugged. “I have no fear of heights.”
“Can you go first, Suki?” I asked. I helped her out of my pack and powered on her floating disk.
“Float up and peek into the archway, see if there’s a guard there.
We’ll have Hoid put an illusion in front of the coliseum wall so you won’t be visible from the apartment windows as you reach the second floor.
” I didn’t know what the citizens of Epiphany would do if they saw a bipedal gerbil floating on a disk to the second story of the arena, but the resulting attention wouldn’t help our cause.
“Yes,” Suki said, “I believe I am fully qualified to look through an archway and identify if a person is present.”
I was pretty sure she was being sarcastic, though that tone didn’t always translate. None of us were fully qualified for the job we were doing here, but our other option was to sit around waiting for reinforcements to arrive and get shot to pieces—so we were doing it, qualified or not.
“Hoid says the illusion is up,” Alanik said, and I tested it, watching my hand slip through the illusion of the coliseum wall two feet in front of the physical wall. We could climb up the space between them without being spotted from the surrounding buildings.
I stepped through the illusion so I could watch as Suki ascended. She stopped her platform with her eyes level with the bottom of the arch, nothing but her tiny ears visible to anyone inside.
She lowered herself again, stopping in front of my face. “I saw no one,” she said. “Do you want me to proceed down the hall?”
“Just a little,” I said. “Get the lay of the land while we climb.”
Suki nodded and held a fist up to me in solidarity, then ascended through the second-floor archway.
I made sure my pack with Naga was secure on my back and shot a light-line to the first row of open arches, then tapped the device to release it. The line remained connected at the top of the wall, hanging behind the illusion like a rope, ready for climbing.
“Gilaf, stay here to watch our backs,” I said, handing him my light-line. “Use this if you need to come after us.”
He gave me a thumbs-up—another gesture he learned from Nedd—and stepped back against the perimeter wall on the far side of the alley to keep watch.
“You ready?” I asked Naga through the mesh of the bag.
“Ready!” Naga said.
“All right,” I said to Alanik. “Ladies first.”
She looked at me like she wasn’t sure if I was mocking her or not.
“Or trained spies first,” I said. “If you prefer.”
Alanik smiled, grabbed hold of the light-line, and began to climb, quickly disappearing behind the illusion. I ducked inside it again to monitor her progress. I could still see Gilaf through the illusion, but he would no longer be able to see me.
“Isn’t it strange the way these illusions only work from one side?” I asked.
“No,” Alanik said. “If they worked from both sides, I wouldn’t be able to see through the color Hoid put over my eyes.”
“Good point.”
The first floor of the arena was twice as high as the ones above it, so we had to climb maybe six meters. I held the line steady at the bottom and, when she was about halfway, climbed up after her.
Alanik hoisted herself through the arch, turning back to check on my progress.
I hauled myself up, and we ducked around the corner, backs pressed to the white stone.
We were in one of the walkways that circled the coliseum, rimmed by seats and interrupted every fifty meters or so by stairs to the higher levels.
The floodlights had been turned off, leaving the arena dim, lit only by the twilight sky.
Suki waited several banks of seats ahead. She brandished her fist at me, which I understood as both a greeting and a sign that she hadn’t yet encountered security.
Alanik tucked herself behind a row of seats, and I joined her, staring out at the darkened arena. “There,” she said, pointing over the bench.
Sure enough, I could make out someone moving along a walkway one level above us, pacing the arena on the far side. We waited for another minute, scanning for others, but didn’t see any.
“There’s probably one on our side too,” I whispered. “Somewhere above us.”
“Probably,” Alanik agreed, “though security may be heaviest near the gate.”
That made sense, given how thoroughly guarded the gate had been while we were cleaning.
“Come on,” I said, waving to Suki to follow.