The Outskirts: Thé Crystal Keepers (Jace x OC)

The Crystal Keepers: 5

The monorail station was as spacious, modern structure of steel and crystal. After walking through the front doors, I almost felt like I was back in Arizona at some public building—tile floors, powered lights, service counters, people waiting in line. It could have been the lobby of an airport.
"IDs first," Joe said, leading the way.
Me and Mira now wore jeans and flannels, and the boys were now dressed in jeans and cotton shirts. Joe wanted us to look like true Zeropolites.
We got in a fairly short line at a counter marked
IDENTIFICATION. Joe had explained that the city government used the monorail stations to provide services for the outposts. More than just transportation and shipping, the stations provided banking, processed identifications, registered vehicles and property, recorded complaints, and housed a modest garrison of patrolmen.
When our turn came, we approached the counter together. Joe handed his ID card to the older woman on duty. She looked at it, held it under a bluish light, then scanned it into a machine. Staring down at her sereen, she looked perplexed for a moment, glancing quickly at Joe.
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
The woman gave a small smile. "Your mustache in the photo threw me off."
"I miss it sometimes," Joe said, rubbing his upper lip.
"You look better without it," she whispered loudly. "How can I help you today, Mr. Boone?"
"I'm traveling with my two nephews, two nieces, and their slave. They're all first-timers in Zeropolis, so they'll need IDs."
"Okay," she said, fingers rattling on a keyboard.
"Do they have any identifying paperwork from
Elloweer?"
Joe shook his head. "I'm sure you know how badly organized they are in Elloweer when it comes to records."
"All too well," she said. "I deal with the sloppy results every day. Do you have papers for the slave?"
"He's marked, of course," Joe said. "But we don't have papers."
The woman behind the counter looked at
Dalton. "Are these your owners?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied.
"Very well," the woman said. "There's a two-hundred-credit processing fee for minors, and a six-hundred-credit fee for slaves."
"Use my card," Joe said.
"The fees double without papers," she said.
"I understand," Joe replied.
The woman held his card under a scanner.
"Okay." She smiled at the kids, her gaze taking them in. "Have you ever been to the city?"
"No," Mira said.
"Are you sure you want to go there?" she asked playfully.
"Yes," Cole said.
"Very well," the woman said. "I need to take individual pictures, then I'll need your names along with the correct spellings.
She gestured for me to come around the counter. "Stand on the mark, and smile wide."
I did as she said. It didn't feel too different from school photos.
"Name?" she asked.
"Brooke Boone," I said.
As I watched, Mira went on record as Shannon Boone, Jace became Hampton Boone, Cole became Bubba Boone, and Dalton became
Kevin son of Mark. I was the first kid to receive a dark green ID card.
I hefted it, stroking the metallic surface with my thumb.
"Why isn't it blue like yours?" I asked Joe.
"You're under sixteen," Joe said.
Jace and Mira accepted their cards. Dalton got his last. It was bloodred.
"Slave color?" he asked, holding it up to the lady behind the counter.
She gave a curt nod, then looked beyond him.
"Next."
Joe herded us over to a nearby wall.
"Wait here while I buy tickets," he instructed.
As soon as he walked off, Jace turned to Dalton.
"I'm thirsty," he said. "Could you get me a drink
Kevin?"
Dalton scowled.
"Don't make a scene, Kevin," Jace warned. "We all have to do our part."
"Yes, Your Highness," Dalton said. Me and Mira snickered.
"I'm not royalty," Jace explained. "Master will do."
"Knock it off," Cole said. "It isn't his fault he wasn't around when Declan changed our bondmarks to freemarks."
"Wasn't my fault I had a bondmark to begin with," Jace countered. "If our slave just stands around all the time and never serves us, how realistic does that look? It's safer for him and for us if he plays the part."
I could tell Jace enjoyed bossing Dalton around, and he was probably getting in some retaliation for the hidden saddle, but it was hard to argue against his point. We wanted to blend in.
"It's okay," Dalton said. "Do you want a drink, Kendal? Mira? Cole?"
"Sure," Mira said. "Thanks."
"Won't that be a lot to carry?" Cole asked.
"I'll manage," Dalton said.
"Don't forget to hold any doors open for us," Jace said. "Be the first to stand, the last to sit.
Treat us like masters. Work to keep us comfortable. Anticipate our needs. And try not to jump into any conversations free people are having."
"Aren't you getting carried away?" Cole said.
"I was a slave for a long time," Jace said.
"Believe me, I know how they're supposed to behave."
"Thanks, master," Dalton said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He walked away.
"How is he supposed to find drinks?" Cole wondered. "He doesn't have any money."
"A good slave would figure it out," Jace said.
"I understand playing our roles," Mira said.
"But, Jace, you don't have to enjoy it so much." Jace chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm just grateful to be free."
"I'd think that would include some empathy for those still stuck as slaves," Mira said.
"We're just pretending he's our slave," Jace reminded her.
"But we're not pretending he's a slave," Cole said. "Right." I pointed out. "He's been a slave since he got here. His bondmark is real."
"Sometimes you three are unbelievably boring,"
Jace said, turning his back on us and shuffling a few steps away. I rolled my eyes at his pettiness. Sometimes Jace takes things so far.
A few minutes later, Joe returned with Dalton behind him. Joe held a can of soda. Dalton carried five others. He handed one to me, one to Cole, another to Mira, and a fourth to Jace.
I inspected the orange can. The word "POW!" slanted across it in thick yellow letters. It had a pull tab just like the soda cans back home. I popped the top and took a sip. The bubbly liquid fizzed in my mouth and down my throat.
It tasted sweet, the orange flavoring enhanced by a hint of vanilla.
"That's not bad," Cole said, licking his lips.
"It's good," I said taking another sip.
Jace squinted at the top of the can, first pressing the tab down, then picking at it. Mira held her soda unopened as well.
I laughed. "Want some help?" I took it from him and showed him how to pop the top. Dalton helped Mira.
"We have tickets?" Cole asked, taking another sip.
"We're officially going to town," Joe said. "The monorail leaves in about fifteen minutes. We should get aboard."
"Will our swords be a problem?" Jace asked.
Joe held up his travel bag. "Both are in here.
Primitive weapons like swords should be okay.
They don't really screen for weapons here. Not like on flights back home."
Joe led them to a line waiting to pass through a door in a high crystal wall. A pair of patrolmen flanked the door, one checking IDs and tickets, the other watching the line. They wore gray-and-black uniforms with padding over the chest and on their limbs. Dangling from their shoulders by a strap, each man had a tubular weapon that looked like a miniature rocket launcher.
The line moved steadily. I shuffled forward beside Joe.
"What are those weapons?" I murmured. "Little bazookas?"
"No," Joe said softly. "Those are trapguns. Most of the weapons used by patrolmen stun or entrap. You'll get gummed up by quicktar, or stuck to webby nets. Nonlethal, but very effective. There isn't usually much violence in Zeropolis. Crime happens quietly here."
Joe stopped talking as they drew near to the door. I clutched my ticket and my ID card.
Joe held out his card. The patrolman scanned it with a device, glanced at his ticket, then waved him along.
The patrolman took my card and scanned it, then waved me through. I didn't look back to watch the other kids, but soon they were all together beyond the crystal wall.
Up ahead, three elevators shuttled people up to the level of the track. Elaborate compartments of crystal and bronze, the elevators were not hidden within a shaft. Each had an operator and could fit roughly ten passengers.
"They look kind of old-fashioned," Dalton observed, beside me.
"They're fast though," I replied.
I noticed Jace watching the elevators climb and sink. He looked both adorably excited and a little uncertain.
"Ever ridden in an elevator, Jace?" I asked, amused.
"Nope," Jace said, flashing me a smile.
"Me neither," Mira added.
"They call them senders here," Joe mentioned.
"Like 'ascend' and 'descend.'"
After a short wait, we entered a sender with a few other people. The operator raised a lever, and the compartment surged briskly upward.
When we exited the sender, the monorail came into full view. Long and sleek, the streamlined train was composed of silvery metal and crystal tinted such a dark blue that I could only barely see the forms moving inside.
"Bonded crystal?" I asked.
"Very good," Joe said. "They use it a lot here. Those elevators were made of bonded crystal and some sturdy ally. Maybe renium. The crystal for the monorail is grade two, tougher than steel. The train moves fast—over three hundred miles per hour."
Me and the others joined the crowd making for one of the many doors of the long train. More patrolmen stood on the platform, trapguns dangling within easy reach. A conductor at the door to the monorail quickly checked tickets as people entered. I boarded after Joe, flashing my ticket to the conductor, then following Joe down the central aisle of the train.
From inside the monorail, the tinted glass didn't look nearly so dark, though everything outside had bluish tones.
People were settling into the cushioned seats at either side of the aisle. Much as when we had walked into the station, I felt a sense of home.
This monorail was too modern to fit my experiences in the Outskirts. It was too much like boarding the light rail in Phoenix or getting on a plane.
Joe led them down the aisle to the end of the car, through a set of doors, and along another aisle until the seats gave way to private compartments on either side, each with its own door. Checking his ticket, Joe opened the door of a compartment where two cushioned benches faced each other. The far wall was all window.
"Our own room?" I asked.
"We're not poor," Joe said. "I thought a little privacy would be nice."
Joe, Cole, and Dalton sat on one side, leaving me, Mira, and Jace on the other. With the door shut, they could almost be alone on the train-only the faintest noise of other passengers moving around or conversing reached them.
Looking out the window at the platform, I watched other passengers approaching the monorail. The crowd thinned until only a few patrolmen remained.
A soothing female voice came from a speaker in the ceiling. "Now departing Outpost 121. Next stop, Outpost 45. Please keep your tickets handy and enjoy the ride."
The monorail began to slide forward, starting off so gently that it was difficult for me to determine when the motion began. Smoothly and steadily they picked up speed.
We left the station behind, and the low buildings of the outpost blurred beneath them. I leaned my head against the window to enjoy the foreground streaming past.
The monorail reached terrific speed, but inside our compartment, I could feel no motion. When I closed my eyes, we could have been standing still.
"Are we even moving?" I asked. "It's almost like the outside scenery is fake!"
"The monorail is well designed," Joe said. "It floats on a magnetic cushion and is extremely aerodynamic."
"I've never imagined anything like this," Jace asked."I can't believe the speed!"
"When do we get off?" Dalton wondered.
"Sixth stop from now," Joe said. "Hanover
Station. We'll stop at two other outposts, then pass a few stations in the city."
"How long?" Dalton asked.
"We have to go more than a thousand miles,"
Joe said. "Including the stops, we should arrive in just over four hours."
I gave a low whistle. That was fast!
"Do you know how to find the Unseen?" Mira asked.
"I've been gone for a while," Joe said. "They change location a lot to stay ahead of the patrolmen. We'll hit a gaming hub called Axis.
You three would call it an arcade. Some of the CKs should be there. The Crystal Keepers.
They're a gang of gamers who help out the Unseen. They'll know how to help us get in touch with the leadership."
"Think we can find a thruport?" Dalton asked.
"Probably, once we reach the Unseen," Joe said.
"We'll get their help in finding Constance and ask about your slave friends."
"And I'm going to find out about Headgear,"
Jace said. "I want a hat like that robot guy had."
Everyone laughed at that.
Joe snapped his fingers. "Whoops, I meant to put some money on your ID cards. We'll have to do that once we get to the city." Somebody tapped on the door. Joe opened it to reveal a conductor. "Tickets, please," the man said.
We handed over their tickets. The man passed a handheld scanner over them, then returned them. "Thanks for riding the monorail," he said, tipping his hat. Then he backed into the hall and closed the door.
I leaned back on the bench. It was comfortable, the cushions a nice blend of soft but firm. I hadn't slept well much since we came to the outskirts. I was in the corner by the window, so I leaned my head against the glass.
My thoughts turned to Jenna. Where was she now? Was she comfortable? Scared? Was she expecting a rescue? Was she trying to free herself? What if she had made a successful escape? Could she be on the run too?
Hopefully there would be answers in a few hours after we reached the city and the Unseen.
What if they traced her ID card and instantly found her? What if we would see her later today? Or tomorrow? The hope seemed too greedy, but I knew it was possible. The Outskirts were huge, and she had to be somewhere.
Feeling drowsy, I experimented with shutting my eyes. When I woke up, I found that the monorail was inside a station. Rubbing my eyes, I saw the others eating sandwiches.
"I wondered when you'd join us," Dalton said around a mouthful. "This is the first stop in the city."
"We got you food," Mira said, handing me a wrapped sandwich.
"How much longer?" I asked.
"About half an hour."
"The monorail doesn't go as fast inside the city," Joe said.
I unwrapped my sandwich and took a bite.
The bread was a little stale, and the cuts of chicken inside were a little dry, but the tangy sauce was good, and I was hungry.
As the monorail slid out of the station, I watched eagerly out the window for my first view of the city. I had expected nonstop buildings. And yes, there were some serious clusters of skyscrapers spaced about, tall and elegant, mostly made of metal and crystal. But there were also open areas. Big parks and lakes. Neighborhoods with yards. Mansions with grounds. Huge, low buildings topped with gardens.
Even from the vantage of the elevated track, the city stretched as far as I could see, which led me to suppose it might continue well beyond what lay before us. Vehicles zoomed along the dark roads crisscrossing the city. Were they cars? I couldn't see tires. Were they hovering? They all shared a similar design, though the colors varied. It was hard to discern all the details from up high, moving quickly.
"Next stop, Canal Station," announced the soothing female voice from the speaker in the ceiling. "Please remain in your seats when we stop while the City Patrol arrests a suspect. The all clear will be announced once the suspect is in custody. Walt Boone, please submit quietly."