0 grams flash dust
WE MADE IT past the curtain. I can still hardly believe this one unequivocal truth. But the sky—big and blue and cloudless—fills my line of sight all the way past the mountains in the distance. The land stretches out in shades of green I never knew existed—grass and trees more vibrant than I ever imagined.
In an instant, my life’s divided between what was before and what comes after. I lived in oppression on one side of the curtain, and now … I live.
“We made it,” I whisper. Wind blows tendrils of hair against my cheek. My eyes water from staring so hard at the view.
Without taking his eyes from the sight, Dram weaves his fingers through mine.
“One last step.” My hand tightens on the strap of my parachute.
Dram squeezes my hand. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
We watch the ground shrink beneath us as the Skimmer climbs. My heart hammers against my rib cage. Can people really survive such a fall?
“We’re almost there,” Bade says over the ship’s intercom. “Do you remember what I told you?”
“Jump away from the hatch,” I call over the wind blowing into my face. “Arms and legs out.”
“Pull altitude?” he asks.
“Six hundred meters,” Dram says.
“Good. And after you land?”
“Ditch the chutes and head up the north face of the tallest mountain peak,” Dram shouts. “Use our names.”
“Or your face,” Bade says. “They’ll take one look at you and know who you are. That works both ways, though—if Striders see you, you’re slayed.”
I stare down at the valley hugging the mountain pass, trying to imagine myself gliding to the ground.
“It’s time,” Aisla calls. “I’m emitting an exhaust burst to cover your jump.”
My fingers dig into the metal door frame. “Dram!”
He catches my face between his hands. The gauge on his wrist glows orange, ready to count down every meter that we drop. His eyes shine, lit with excitement. We’ve traded places. It’s like the neck of nine, only I’m the one frozen in fear. “I can’t—”
“This is like the cliff before the second orbie pool,” he shouts over the wind. “How many times have we scaled it?”
“Hundreds.” I shake so hard, my teeth chatter.
“This is easier. Nothing out there wants to eat us!”
“Dram…” How can he smile right now?
“We’re doing this now. Together. I’ll be right behind you.”
“You need to go!” Bade shouts. “I’ll count it down for you. Ten, nine, eight…”
“I’ll be right behind you, ore scout.”
“… six, five…”
I grip the sides and stare down at the ground. I will be brave. I will honor my mother and Wes—and Reeves and Lenore. I will finish what I started when I climbed the post above the tunnels and cut down the sign.
“… four, three…”
The Congress says we are nothing beyond the tunnels. They are wrong.
I step to the edge.
We are the fortunate ones.
* * *
I let go and jump.
My stomach plummets. Air hits my body, pushing against me so hard I can’t breathe. I may never breathe again. My eyes shut tight, but I can’t remove myself from the horror of this fall that won’t end.
That’s not right. I need to see. My wrist gauge. I’m supposed to check …
Panic seizes me. Numbers scroll through my mind—429.21 grams; 3.7 milliliters; 22 hours, 19 minutes—but they’re not the ones I need.
I free-fall, staring wildly at the numbers spinning on my altimeter. I try to find Dram, but he must be above me—I can’t see him. Has he already pulled his chute? Am I late?
Fire oh fire oh fire!
Coordinates spin through my mind, but I force myself to recall the only number that matters now.
The ground rushes up at me. My arms and legs stretch out from my sides, and I drop through a layer of cloud.
Six hundred meters.
I glance at my altimeter: 552 meters. I pull the cord.
My chute plumes, yanking my body. I finally take a full breath. Finally take my first good look at my landing area.
That’s when I see the hover.