27Rain drizzles down in delicate beads, filtering through the canopy to hover across the forest floor in a tender mist. Through the shifting haze, the forest drifts in and out of focus, one moment the edges and colors sharp and bright, the next blurred and dull. I squint through the fog, my eyes not on the murky trees but searching for my first target: Power Distribution Hub E3.

Between the shifting mists and the pale sun filtering through the canopy, the hub looks less like a utility building and more like an overgrown cottage out of a fairy tale. In the absence of regular human intervention, the forest has moved in, enveloping the building in a sea of greenery from top to bottom. Shrubs and bushes grow up over the walls from below while lianas and razor vines tumble down in verdant waterfalls from above. Trees twist and turn about the structure, their branches wrapping around corners and edges, while in every available nook and cranny, small plants flower in vivid bursts of orange and pink. Moss and lichen trail across the walls like a lover’s kisses.

I can’t help letting out a rueful laugh. Who needs cutting-edge tech when you’ve got the Rainforest? No wonder TruCon didn’t worry about adding additional security measures to this or any of the other outlying structures. Between the forest’s growth and the out-of-the-way location, it’s doubtful anyone would even stumble across this building, let alone realize what it was—not unless someone was specifically hunting for it, that is. Someone like me. I chose this hub for a reason, and not just because of its minimal security and lack of enemy presence.

A slight smile plays across my lips as I recall what it said on the schematic I managed to dig up. This hub may seem inconsequential, buried as it is out in the jungle, but what it powers is a completely different story. While taking it out won’t end the war, it will certainly give the enemy something to think about.

A knot of tension coils in my gut as it suddenly hits me: We’re about to embark upon our first true offensive of the war. Not a raid for food or a defensive maneuver, but a direct strike upon our enemy. Though I’ve been planning this for days, even weeks, somehow I’m still not quite prepared for this moment. A jolt of adrenaline zings through me. This is it. If we do this, there’s no turning back.

Reaching into my waistband, I draw my decimator.

At my movement, the others—Vida, Jovan, Merc, and Hegit—do the same, drawing their stunners, or in Jovan’s case, his aero-launcher. Only Zane hesitates, glancing nervously at the hub for a long moment before finally following suit. Everyone ready—or at least as ready as any of us can be—I lead the others forward. However, when we reach the hub a minute later, it becomes clear that neither ghouls nor squatters are the real obstacle.

“Fan out and search the building,” I direct the others. “There’s got to be an entrance buried underneath all this growth somewhere. We just have to find it.”

At my command, everyone immediately begins moving along the walls, ripping out vines and pushing aside branches as they search for a way in. Though the building isn’t large, the work is slow going. Foliage covers nearly every centimeter of the place, and a massive hedge grows flush against the east side, its thick branches blocking an entire chunk of wall from top to bottom. I stare at the interlocked branches in consternation, sincerely hoping that wherever the door is, it’s not beneath those poisonous thorns.

“I found it!”

At Vida’s jubilant cry, I jog around the building toward the sound of her voice. I find her on the opposite side of the hub, ripping some leaves away from the wall. Sliding up beside her, I brace myself for whatever impermeable jungle growth I might find blocking our way, but to my surprise, the door is almost completely clear. Instead, a graceful sapling curves out around the entrance, its slender trunk bowed out in one section to create a small vestibule. Ivy hangs from its upper branches, spilling around the hollow in a lacy curtain of green and silver. I tentatively run my hand down the sapling’s trunk, wondering at its odd shape. As if reading my mind, a voice protrudes from over my shoulder.

“Enviro-shield generator.”

I glance back at Merc, then follow his gaze down the wall to where a small module sits buried in the ground by the door. Of course. Like everything of importance in the Rainforest, the hub has its own enviro-shield generator to keep the entrance clear and the building accessible. Clearly it failed at some point—also like most everything else of importance in the forest—but not before it managed to successfully carve out a permanent niche within the growth.

I suddenly wonder if this was the real solution to the Iolanthe problem all along. To use the enviro-shields, not to block and shut out the native flora as though it’s an enemy to be forever battled, but to nudge and shape it into an ally, a friend to stand protectively by for the generations to come.

At the idea, something stirs within me, a seed of life long-lain dormant. My breath catches, and for a moment, just a moment, I find myself wanting . . . something. Another life, another path, another destiny . . . but no. That possibility has already passed me by, and now I have only to play out the destiny that was chosen for me—chosen by me—whether I like it or not.

Brushing the momentary desire aside, I slip through the curtain of ivy and approach the door. A full centi’s worth’s of grime coats the keypad cover, and in its depths grows a colony of miniscule white flowers, each the size of my pinkie. A promising sign—it means TruCon hasn’t bothered to replace or update the outdated tech. Probably never even occurred to them. No one ever thinks about the tech that runs our lives until it stops working.

I unlatch the cover and swing it open—carefully, that I might allow its delicate denizens to remain undisturbed. The chit scanner inside is ancient but recognizable. Activating my chit, I queue up my terraforming profile and scan my chit across the access pad.

It takes a second, then the lock releases with a quiet click. I wait several more seconds, but the door doesn’t open. My eyes flick quizzically over it before landing on a handle set into the surface about waist high.

A flush blooms in my cheeks. Oh, I have to open it myself.

Grabbing the handle, I give the door a hard push. It creaks open, and I go in.

The cool scent of musty air hits me first, followed by the undeniable tang of dust and deterioration. I wait in the darkness, only the sunlight filtering in around my body to illuminate the entrance, until finally, reluctantly, the capsule lights embedded in the ceiling begin flickering on—pop, pop, pop, pop—one at a time down the line. I spare a moment to take in my surroundings. The single room is dominated by a large transformer, approximately five meters in length. Gauges and control consoles line the walls, and between the consoles and transformer is a narrow aisle. A quiet hum dominates the room.

I slowly walk along the aisle, dimly aware of the others following behind with hushed awe. Despite the fact that it’s been shut up tight for stars only know how many years, the jungle has still managed to creep in. Small tendrils curl through tiny seams where the transformer’s power conduits disappear through the floor and into the ground below, and judging by the droppings all over the place, some type of rodent has found its way in on more than one occasion. Several largish nests sit up on a small catwalk far overhead. There must be a hole in the ceiling somewhere that the jungle hasn’t managed to plug.

I pause at the corner between the north and east walls, considering.

“So, what? You want us to smash the place up?” Jovan asks, twirling a hefty branch he must have picked up outside impatiently around in his hands.

I glance around the hub once more, trying to decide the best way to halt its operation, and again my eyes land on the catwalk with its dusty nests. A sly smile curves my lips. “No,” I answer after a moment. “I’ve got a better idea.”

We find the rickety metal stairs set into the corner of the south wall. The second step vibrates when I step onto it, and the railing jiggles a bit when I pull on it, but otherwise the stairs seem sound enough. The same goes for the catwalk when I take my first tentative steps out onto the narrow walkway. Motioning to the others to follow, I make my way down the walk, carefully picking my way over myriad nests, dung, and other debris littering the way. The nests are ancient, brittle and dry and made up of dead vegetation that clearly hasn’t hosted any occupants for some time. The others string out behind me, taking up positions at various points along the way. Quickly I lay out the plan. Then, crouching down, I position myself behind a half-meter-long nest, grip it tight in both hands, and with a mighty shove send it hurtling off the walk and into the station below.

Sparks fly up as the nest hits the transformer. Barely a second later, a second nest hits, followed by assorted dung and detritus as the others pelt the transformer, gumming up the works and breaking the connections. More sparks explode from it, shooting upward in a brilliant fountain of red and gold. I throw myself flat against the catwalk, using the sturdy metal to protect myself from the fireworks below, while along the walk, the others do the same. The transformer is going crazy now, hissing and sparking and seething with uncontrolled electricity, and then suddenly it’s not just sparks but flames leaping and crackling out of the works below.

My heart seizes as I realize just how fast a fire like that can spread in an enclosed space. “Everybody out, now!”

Nobody needs to be told twice. Within seconds, we’re up and moving, racing for the stairs as the fire below continues to grow. The catwalk shivers and shakes beneath our feet, suddenly far less amenable to our combined weight now that we’re stampeding across it. One, two, three, four, five—first Merc, then Hegit, then Zane, Jovan, and finally Vida pile off the catwalk and begin charging down the stairs. I hit the top of the landing and start to follow—then stop. Pulling a small cutting laser from my belt, I switch it on and run it across the cables right where they attach to the catwalk.

Twang! Twang!

The cables snap, and the entire end of the catwalk goes down! More sparks shoot out as the end of the walkway smashes into the works below. Hands thrown up to shield my face, I race down the stairs two steps at a time. Something hits my arm, burning and sharp, but I keep going, leaping the final few steps to the floor and racing for the exit.

“Come on!” Vida screams from just outside the door.

Putting on a burst of speed, I fly through the inferno of flames and sparks and dive for the entrance. Dirt flies up in my face as I hit the ground and roll, then—

Thud!

The door slams shut with a heavy clang. Just like that, the inferno is gone. I’m back in the jungle, surrounded, not by flames, but fresh air and misty rain. I glance up at Vida, who’s casually dusting off her hands. “Thanks.”

Vida rolls her eyes. “Whatever,” she says, and trots away.

I snort. Just business as usual. As I get to my feet, a sudden thought occurs to me. “Hey, Merc!” I nod at the keypad when he glances over. “Is there a way to erase our entry swipe from the logs?”

Mercury nods, jogging back to the entrance and carefully inputting a series of commands in the keypad. Closing up the cover, I take care not to dislodge the colony of flowers growing on top. The rain and the jungle should take care of any other tracks we might have left outside, and the soot and ash from the fire should take care of the inside. In fact, as long as the enemy doesn’t look too closely at the cable, they’ll assume the whole thing was an accident—an ancient catwalk coming loose after all these years, falling into the works below, and taking a whole slagload of debris with it, thus starting the fire. If we’re lucky, nobody will ever know we were there—a marked advantage in our campaign, as the longer we can go undetected, the longer it will be before the enemy comes looking for us. It’s for the best, and yet a part of me hates the fact that they’ll never know it was us.

That they’ll never know it was me.

A sharp pain burning through my arm brings me back to the present. Glancing down, I find a nasty burn the size of my fist on my upper arm. I must have gotten hit by a piece of flying shrapnel on my way out. I barely felt it when it happened, but now that the adrenaline from our escape is easing, a burning agony from the injury is quickly replacing it. Reaching into my pack, I slap on a bandage to hold it until we get home. Immediately the pain eases. With a sigh of relief, I join the others.

“That was amazing!” Hegit is exclaiming, eyes alight as she watches the smoke rising from the hub.

“Did you see the way that transformer went up?” Vida adds.

“So that’s it? We’ve killed the power to the bunker?” Jovan asks excitedly. “Like, they’re all stumbling around in the dark down there?”

I raise an eyebrow at the highhanded assumption. “The bunker? Hardly. That thing is sucking so much power from so many sources that one distribution hub isn’t going to so much as flicker the lights.” At Jovan’s crestfallen face, I elaborate. “Besides, that transformer wasn’t actually powering the bunker, per se.”

“Then what was it powering?” Vida demands, hands on her hips in true mean girl style.

“Pumps.”

A stunned silence falls over the group, no one entirely sure what to make of my unexpected response. I wait to see if anyone will put it together, figure out just what purpose a set of underground pumps might be used for.

“Pumps?” Jovan sneers in wide-eyed incredulity, clearly not seeing the significance of our attack any more than the rest are. “That’s it? We went to all that trouble for some pumps?”

“Ah, but these aren’t just any pumps. You see, the power from this particular transformer is routed directly to the set of pumps responsible for bringing up all of the underground waste material created in the bunker into the Iolanthian sewage system.”

Jovan frowns. “Meaning?”

I can’t stop my amused little smile. “Meaning that unless I miss my guess, it’s about to get very messy down there very fast.”