16

CITY OF WONDER

AVARIA IS NOTHING like I expected. Then again, we’re not exactly in Avaria yet. We’re on the outskirts of the city, waiting to be escorted in. The wall before us, looming like a forbidding slab, is fifty feet of pure reinforced steel, built to keep things out. And in, too, I suppose.

We’re standing in a row outside of the hovertank. Bass is on one side of me, and Sylar and Arven on the other. Bass and I have fallen back into our usual routine, as if the cockpit interlude never happened. I’m grateful for small mercies. Caden and Sauer are two steps ahead of us. I can’t help noticing that Caden has changed—he’s dressed in official military garb. He’ d noticed my clothing the minute I came out of the medical bay.

“Danton’s suit.” It wasn’t a question, and Caden’s tone had been guarded.

“Yes. I ran out. This is the last one left. I had no choice.” But of course I did—I could have gone without a tech-enabled suit, and take my chances. The truth is, I didn’t want to. “Aurela cleared it,” I’ d added.

Caden had forced a smile even though I could see the worry in his eyes—he didn’t trust my father, either. “You look like Mystique.”

“Who?”

“The mutant girl from X-Men. It’s a movie. Not that you look like a mutant. That’s not what I meant. You look fine. Better than fine. Never mind.”

I’ d caught Sauer’s lips twitching, but he’ d taken pity on Caden and outlined the mission parameters. I hadn’t missed the satisfied grin on Bass’s face, as if he was enjoying every second of Caden’s discomfort.

My eyes narrow as I squint to see the reflection of something gleaming along the wall’s length. It must be part of the holo-imagery defense mechanism that Cristobal had mentioned back in the Otherworld, the one that prevents anyone from seeing the colony. I frown and magnify the image. Upon closer examination, it looks too convoluted to be a hologram projector. It’s some kind of laser weapon with image processing sensors; I’m sure of it.

Bass notices that I’m studying the barrier and whispers, “Sauer told me it’s fourteen inches thick.”

“And deadly,” I say, jerking my head at the equipment lining the top, spaced in equidistant intervals. “They had to have seen us coming a mile away. I’m surprised they didn’t try to fry us.”

Bass’s eyes widen. “So, you think the fence is live?”

“See the galvo-reflectors up top? They’re using ultraviolet laser tech to eliminate threats.” I pause. “Kind of like an electrified fence, only one that’s hot enough to melt anything from a distance. They must have disabled it for us.”

“Whoa, guess they really don’t like visitors,” Bass says. “I shudder to think what would happen if we weren’t invited.”

I nod toward a suspicious, human-sized pile of black ash on Bass’s right.

“That’s sick,” he says.

“They must have a lot to protect.”

We wait in silence as a central seam splits the giant wall open and Cristobal Marx comes strolling out. His smile is as I remember—white and impersonal. He’s dressed in a simple, woven, cotton shirt and fitted pants, but he seems as dangerous to me as he had in the Otherworld. Every instinct inside of me screams not to trust him.

“Welcome to Avaria, Lord King of Neospes,” he says bowing to Caden, who inclines his head graciously in turn. “Please allow me to escort you to the chief and your bride, who are both anxiously awaiting your arrival. You may leave your ship inside the gate—it will be quite safe, I assure you.”

Caden nods at Arven, who pilots the craft into a hangar inside. The city side of the wall is no different than the outside—dusty earth and thin air. Cristobal leads us to a nearby tent. While we wait, we’re served wrapped leaves with beads of moisture still on their surface. Sylar’s gasp is audible. Watching Cristobal, we all do as he does, pressing the unrolled, cool surface to our faces. I almost sigh at the refreshing feel of the leaf against my cheek as my skin absorbs the moisture like a greedy sponge.

“Where do you get this?” I ask him.

He smiles at me. “Ah, General, it’s good to see you again. I will be looking forward to seeing how you like our beautiful city.”

I place the folded leaf into a nearby basket and lean back in my chair. “You mean the dome/no dome scenario you mentioned at Era’s house?”

Cristobal’s smile widens. “Yes! Now, come. We have much to do before the feast tonight.”

“Feast?” Caden asks.

“The wedding pact, of course,” Cristobal says, just as Arven joins us. He, too, is offered a leaf, which he stares at until Sauer explains how it’s to be used. We follow Cristobal to a waiting hovercraft, and I glance over my shoulder to see the wall gliding shut.

“Is the wall laser enabled?” I ask Cristobal.

Surprise lights his eyes. “Yes. Near-infrared and ultraviolet laser technology,” he says. “But you knew that already or you wouldn’t have asked.”

“I saw the equipment. Pretty big defense for a wall guarding nothing.”

There’s that smile again, but this time I feel like knocking it off his face. He smirks as if everything is a big secret, and spreads his hands wide. “You will have to see to believe.”

I shrug, and sit in the back seat. Bass joins me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I can put my finger on.”

“Heebie jeebies?” he asks and I fight the urge to grin. Once more, he has hit the nail on the head.

“Exactly.”

We strap in as the hover moves forward, gliding away from the wall. Eventually, a dome comes into view, only it’s not the same shape as the one in Neopses. It’s more of a tube than an inverted bowl. A small army stands at the entrance. They don’t need reinforcements at the wall—that’s designed to defend itself—but the people of Avaria aren’t taking any chances.

Cristobal slows the hover and passes a biometric scan at the first wave of soldiers. He performs the scan several more times before we gain entry to Avaria. It’s a bustling city, much like the ones I’ve visited in the Otherworld, only with streamlined hover traffic weaving between tall, aerodynamic buildings that nearly scrape the dome’s clear surface. Cristobal maneuvers the hover into the interchange and I force myself not to stare. What strikes me the most are the patches of green turf I see stretching between the streamlined structures.

“Is that real?” I breathe.

“Yes, that is real grass.”

“But how—”

“You’ll see.”

This time, when Cristobal smiles, I feel a sense of wonder. Our trip through the glass city ends as we reach the far side of the dome. I frown. Are we going outside already? Cristobal passes through another series of scans and descends from the hover.

“No tech in this section,” he says cryptically. “We walk.”

Not wanting to attract attention, I power down my suit with a quick command and follow the others through the security checkpoint. We enter another glass tube—a second ring within the first—but this one is full of trees and dark, lush foliage. It’s the opposite of the first domed ring, and unlike anything we have in Neospes.

“What is it?” Sauer blurts out, awed.

“It’s a biosphere,” Cristobal explains. “The early settlers wanted to protect the remaining flora after the Tech War. This was one of the more lush areas of our planet, and parts of it survived in spite of the Machines. Our forefathers built this as a garden of sorts, one to complement the city you just passed through.” He waves a hand above us. “The dome was constructed to maximize the sunlight and to help the plants grow. In the beginning, the early Avarians did not understand how the plants were thriving until, one day, they realized that their city was built above an underground spring.” Cristobal looks right at me. “That’s when they started construction on the outer wall.”

Of course. They’ d do anything to protect a secret water source on a planet that was as dry as a bone everywhere else. I nod—if it’ d been Neospes, we’ d have done the same. The Machines had sucked the oceans dry to convert them into energy. Running water would be more valuable than liquid gold.

The sound of some kind of animal in the distance makes us all jump. “It’s a chattera,” Cristobal says. “Similar to the Otherworld’s monkeys. We have many species of animals living here.”

“Pure?” Sauer asks.

“One hundred percent pure-born.”

Sauer and I exchange a look. No wonder they’ d wanted to remain unseen for so long. What they’ve accomplished here is a miracle.

We follow Cristobal deeper into the jungle. The occasional screech of a bird or bellow of an animal makes us laugh. I see pockets of open space with more grass and exotic, brilliantly colored flora. We stop for a while to smell the blooms—their fragrances are intoxicating.

“Come,” Cristobal says as we near yet another checkpoint. We’ve walked in the garden for over an hour, though it’s felt like only minutes.

“How big is it?” I ask him. “The garden?”

“The width of this dome is about five miles across, but nearly a hundred miles in circumference. Now we need a little help from the monorail. It would take days to walk.”

At the checkpoint we board an efficient-looking elevated railway that operates off of a line attached to the inner glass wall of the garden dome. “I thought you said no tech,” Sauer remarks. “Why didn’t we take the hover?”

“A hover couldn’t make it through here. In some areas the undergrowth is so thick it’s impossible to pass. The monorail makes it easier to get from one side to the other.”

“What’s on the other side?” Sauer asks, his brows snapping together.

“You’ll see.”

But I can’t imagine anything better than what we are seeing right now. Even the six fierce-looking guards who have joined us for the ride don’t make me flinch.

“This is amazing,” Bass says. His nose, like Sylar’s and Arven’s, is pressed to the monorail windows.

Something glittery grabs my attention below the track, and I blink. It can’t be. But, sure enough, I can see the flash of running water. Running water that looks like it’s flowing under the glass dome to whatever lies beyond it. But that’s not possible. There are no rivers or waterways in this world.

I catch Cristobal’s eye. “Is that what I think it is?”

“An aboveground river? Yes. It’s man-made, but it serves its purpose. When the first chiefs realized that the plants had water, they dug and dug, until the underground spring was no longer below the surface. However, it was difficult to keep it contained. It was as if they’ d unleashed a tsunami of life. The underground spring fed pools and lakes, and the forest blossomed.”

“So, that’s how all this happened?” Caden asks.

“No, my Lord King,” Cristobal says, unmistakable pride in his voice. “That’s how all this happened.”

And before I can register what Cristobal is talking about, the monorail whooshes past the end of the dome, through an outlet, and to the other side. It takes me a minute before I realize that we’re flying beside a canopy of thick, dense trees, and the monorail, once connected to the side of the glass dome, now rides upon widely spaced metal pillars. We are out in the open air, which is filled with strange sounds and invigorating scents. In the distance, I can see the tip of a purple peak breaking through a barrier of clouds… real, actual clouds! Now, I know I’m dreaming.

Caden’s eyes are wide with awe. This is what the people of Avaria wanted to protect—and, no wonder. It’s a miracle that a place like this even exists on this planet.

“This can’t possibly be real.” The words are mine, but it’s Sauer who gives them voice.

“Given a chance, life will always find a way to endure,” Cristobal returns. “A single seed will wait an eternity for a drop of water, protecting the life within it, until growth becomes an opportunity.”

Sauer blinks as a flock of birds swoops past. “But how is this possible?”

“It’s a self-aware, independent ecosystem,” Cristobal explains. “Everything in here is interconnected.”

“What about the temperature fluctuations?”

Cristobal nods. “That’s the beauty of this place. We don’t have the same instabilities that you see in Neospes. During the day, water evaporates into the air, and condenses into the clouds you see over there.” He points to the thick haze near the mountain’s tip. “And it rains.”

“Rain?” Sylar gasps.

“With sunlight during the day and rainfall at night, the forest has flourished, growing even beyond our expectations and reaching farther than that mountain range. The dome has acted as a barrier of sorts, making it more humid during the day. With more plants, more water from the soil makes its way into the air. Solar radiation leads to more rainfall, more plants, more photosynthesis, and more life. It’s a complete reversal. The planet is fighting back.”

“How big is this place?” Arven asks unsteadily.

“Millions of acres. It backs onto a mountain range to the west. We never expected it to grow so rapidly.”

“Is that why we can breathe so easily in here?” Sauer asks, inhaling deeply. “All the oxygen?”

“Yes.”

Sauer’s right. I breathe in, feeling the cool refreshing scent hit the back of my throat. Even the air tastes fresher. It’s no secret that we synthesize oxygen in the domes to make up for the loss of terrestrial vegetation planet-wide. Over the years, the air has been getting thinner, and it’s becoming harder and harder to breathe in the open spaces like the Outers. But, even though human bodies have evolved to survive with the decreasing levels of oxygen, it won’t last forever. This wild, thriving forest may change everything.

I look up as the monorail comes to a stop and we descend to the bottom of the pillar. It’s dark and moist here on the bottom of the forest. I can barely see through the canopy to the sky above, with some of the trees arching hundreds of feet above us, their trunks so thick it would take several people to link arms around them.

“Unbelievable that this is even possible,” Bass says to me.

I smile, agreeing. “I remember studying rain forest ecosystems in the Otherworld. But nothing I read prepared me for this, here, of all places.” I brush my fingers over the slick surface of a dark green frond, watching a bright blue amphibian leap out from beneath the bushes and hop away. “It seems so surreal. I mean, look at them—they’re alive… not Reptiles… it’s amazing.”

“This way,” Cristobal announces and we fall in line. I notice that six guards are bringing up the rear, rifles at the ready. I frown, studying the laser-sighted tranquilizer guns. Cristobal looks back. “Don’t worry. It’s for the forest dwellers if they attack. This, after all, is a wild place. The tranqs slow them down, but cause little harm. More gentle than stun guns.” My frown deepens. The guards have those strapped to their legs, too. Those weapons, I notice, have more lethal settings than stun. If those guns are not for the animals, then who are they for?

“What kind of dwellers?” I hear Caden ask from the front of the procession. “More chatteras?”

“Yes, and other fauna that existed before the Tech War. More species are discovered each day.” Cristobal smiles widely and waves a hand. “Ah, here we are. The home of the chief.”

“Your chief lives out here?” Sauer says, incredulous.

“Yes. We live in the domes, but Lady Inka particularly enjoys being a part of nature. Best of both worlds.”

The path we’re walking on turns into a wider trail. I notice that the foliage has started to change as well—less underbrush and more floral vegetation. Bright spots of color fill the landscape with blooms of every variety, most of which I’ve only seen the like of in the Otherworld—in shades of every color under the sun.

“It’s amazing,” I breathe.

“This is only the entrance.” Cristobal turns to smile at me, and beckons us forward. “Welcome to Avaria Proper, the jewel of our city.”

Walking through the valley of orchids, the smell of them heady, we enter the clearing beyond. It’s nothing I expected. Strung between rows of trees is an oasis in the sky, like a giant tree house—man-made, but built so cleverly that it could be a part of the rain forest. Smaller huts are connected to the central area by walkways high above us. Chatteras dangle off the rope bridges, prattling away. I can see human faces peering from the open windows in the adjoining huts, but no one comes out to greet us. Cristobal disappears for a moment, and we are left staring in wonder. Caden sidles over to my side, where I’m studying a blue flower shaped like a bell.

“This is insane, right, Riv?” he says, now that his diplomatic escort has departed. I hear the childish wonder in his voice, and almost grin at how much effort it must have taken to stay quiet in Cristobal’s presence. “It’s like a paradise you read about in books. No wonder they kept this place secret.” He shakes his head, gently touching the edge of the blue flower with his fingertip. “The Reptiles would rip it apart.”

Caden’s right. If the Reptiles ever found this place, it wouldn’t last a week. They’ d scrounge for every usable body and pillage every resource.

But if the Avarian people have hidden the city for so long, why open it up now? Why trust us now? What do we have that they need? Besides my father—and what would they need him for, anyway? From the looks of the outer dome, they have all the tech they could ever need.

A group approaches us led by a couple. The man is tall and forbidding with a lined, hawkish face. Black markings cover his nose and cheeks, and his chin is pierced with thin pieces of wood. A crown of brilliant red and gold feathers spans his forehead. A thick silver necklace covers half his chest. His body is lean and muscled, and he’s not wearing much beyond a loincloth. Similar black markings grace his arms and thighs.

My glance goes to the girl at his side, and my breath stops. Tall and slender like the man, her skin is a golden bronze that looks like it’s oiled from within. Braids wind through her dark hair, dotted with flowers and jewels. Slanted brown eyes rest above sharp cheekbones, which slope down to a full, upturned mouth. Red markings streak across her cheeks and down her nose, but her face is unpierced. She’s more fully covered, but even in her simple clothing, her legs are long and shapely, and her shoulders, erect and proud. Golden bracelets adorn her arms and neck and, surprisingly, a longbow rests comfortably against her side. Not only is she beautiful, without a single wart to be found, she’s also a warrior.

And she’s Caden’s bride-to-be.