Akaela Read Free Page B

quick glance and then dart
out of the bedroom. Mom’s by the door talking with aunt
Kara.
    “What’s
going on?” I ask.
    “And why are
there droids out by the river?” Athel barges in.
    Mom’s face
is a web of worry. “We don’t know. Skip went out to check the fishing nets but
he hasn’t come back yet.”
    Athel
frowns. Skip’s our cousin, aunt Kara’s son. “He went by himself?”
    Kara nods,
her face wet with tears. “I told him not to go by himself. He can be so
stubborn sometimes…” She brings a hand to her mouth and chokes her last words
in a sob.
    “Go get
the flashlights, Athel,” Mom says. “We’ll stop to get Uli on our way to the
ground floor.”
    “Mom—”
I whisper.
    “No,” she
snaps. “You stay here, Akaela. It’s too dangerous out there.”
    Athel
shoos Kael off the window, knowing that once they’re out with the flashlights,
the falcon will fly low and be on the lookout with them. Kael’s a cyborg, too,
with a bear’s sense of smell.
    They all scramble
out the door and suddenly I’m left alone, the dancing ghosts of the embers from
the fireplace my only company. I dash back to the window. The droids are still
pacing on the other side of the river, the pale light of the moon glistening on
their metallic bodies. I squint and lean out the window.
    One of the droids has no hands.
    They’re looking for the hand we stole .
    I feel a
pang. Did Athel and I cause all this ?
    I bite my
lip and clasp the windowsill.
    If anything happens to Skip it’ll be our fault .
    I think of
Dad, who left two weeks ago in hopes of finding more resources, as our own
technology is getting old and stagnant. We never talk about it, yet with every
day that goes by without Dad coming back, something breaks loose inside us. Mom
especially. We cling to one thread of hope that the Gaijins didn’t deny our ambassadors’
request.
    A sudden
urge possesses me. I have to help search for Skip. It’s our fault the droids
are out by the river. If I jump, I’ll be out looking in under a minute, while
the other men and women scramble down the forty flights of stairs, taking turns
with the old elevator box. I can hear the groan of the cables as they cycle up
and down the Tower.
    I climb
over the windowsill—mottled with Kael’s droppings—and look out into
the emptiness of the night, the forty-story drop calling me like an echo. The
moon peeks through a sheer veil of clouds. I lean out and inhale the dampness
of the night, nippy now that the air has chilled down. The breeze is mellow,
blowing away from the Tower.
    You’ve never jumped in pitch dark , I hear
my inner self say . It’s
risky .
    And yet I
don’t care.
    It’s my
flaw. Dad always says how one of these days he’s going to fix me before this
flaw of mine kills me.
    I grasp the
window jamb with one hand and prod the air with the other, waiting for the
breeze. My heart pounds with excitement.
    I have no
fear.
    That’s my
flaw.
    I know no
fear.
    And so I
jump.

 
    *   *   *

 
    At first I just drop, as if
underneath there were only void. I spread my arms and release the sail. It
holds me back, stopping my plunge. As soon as it does, the breeze catches me
and lures me away.
    The river
looks silver in the moonlight, marred by the long row of fishing nets quivering
in the breeze. The smoke that always ribbons the horizon glows in the dark,
casting an eerie yellow over the mesa. After they attacked us fifteen years
ago, the Gaijin burned the cities on the other side of the mesa, creating a
wall of fire between our lands. To this day, the fire never stops burning.
    The
blinking lights from the droids’ backs wobble up and down the shore. As soon as
they spot me up in the air they flash their lenses at me. I swerve and ride the
thermal up, staying upstream of the river and away from the droids’ fire. Soon,
I spot the bobbing flashlights of the men and women who’ve come out looking for
Skip.
    The droids
seem surprised to see them. They’re just