Ember Read Free

of them stood as one. As I followed Ông out of the conference room, I heard Li behind me.
    â€œGood riddance,” he said under his breath to one of the others. “
Máo zi
coward.”

TWO
    A week later, I was on my way home. The transport could have sat thirty but had only me as a passenger, and as I rode alone I found myself missing the military feed and its constant influx of white noise. The brain band would have access to local channels when I got home. I’d have to watch the border on the news, I supposed, like everyone else.
    When we touched down, I stepped out and hoisted my pack onto one shoulder. Cold wind sheared across the concrete platform as I closed the hatch and thumped it twice with my palm. At the signal, the pilot wound up the graviton emitters and the vehicle leaped a foot off the pad then rotated one hundred eighty degrees. It lifted off, dwindling to a dark shape in the sky which then flitted back the way it had come with a low sonic clap.
    The gate hub’s glass doors parted as I approached and I headed inside where soldiers and civilian contractors milled together, some sitting, some standing. At the far end of the terminal a haan jump gate had been fixed to one wall, its opening twice as tall as a normal doorway and three times as wide. Thick cables ran down along the sides of the metal frame, trailing into shielded boxes of haan technology that we weren’t, as of yet, allowed to see.
    Two guards flanked the gate, and a jump-suited technician sat behind a counter next to it watching a small, wall-mounted television set where an anchorwoman reported on the movements of the European Union naval fleet. A window to the left of her showed several huge warships on their way toward our southern border.
    When I approached the counter and showed my jump ticket, the technician stood and picked up a heavy flat console by a grip on one side from the chair next to him. A bundle of cables trailed from connectors on the opposite side, across the floor to the frame of the jump gate.
    â€œGreetings soldier,” he said. “Heading home?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    He looked at the ticket information.
    â€œDestination is Hangfei, Ginzho Terminal,” he said.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œVery good. Just give me a minute to clear it with control.”
    I waited while the technician propped the console up on the counter and tapped at the screen with a stylus. Hanzi characters scrolled past, along with long number sequences as a waveform appeared and began to oscillate. Energy began to crackle around the gate, and my hair stood on end as the controller spoke rapid fire into his headset.
    The plain white wall on the other side of the gate frame warped as the field activated, and then it disappeared. In its place appeared a view of another terminal where crowds of people milled by from either side.
    â€œGate successfully established,” a female voice chimed over the intercom. “Connection to Ginzho Terminal, Hangfei, is now active.”
    â€œYou’re cleared to jump, Sergeant,” the technician said.
    I nodded, but didn’t step through right away. I stared at the bottom edge of the field that divided the two terminals which were, in actuality, thousands of miles apart. Ginzho Terminal had a gloss of wealth to it, full of neon and tinted glass. Shops ran the length of the throughway, and the people there were dressed in high fashion. They wore stylish haircuts, and carried bulging shopping bags.
    I looked back toward the exit, through the glass doors to the borderlands again. Scrubby plants shook in the wind beyond the landing platform and it suddenly felt strange leaving. The Hangfei on display through the gate felt unfamiliar, even though it had only been three years.
    â€œSir?” the technician prompted.
    I had an urge to turn around. To head back to Lobnya, and to try and find Olek Salko’s sister, as if that were possible. I would never be allowed