8

The departure bay is abuzz with noise. Announcements play in an almost endless stream over the intercom.

“For Crust departures, please report to Terminal A.… All flight personnel, please check in with a commanding officer.… For Mantle departures, please report to Terminal B.…”

And so on.

We pause in the entrance terminal, near a counter with signs that read LUGGAGE COLLECTION and FLIGHT CHECK-IN. The place is darker than I’d expect, with dim red and blue lights flashing on the walls. Someone pushes through the door to the main terminal ahead, and I glimpse steam, ships, and personnel.

Cadet Waller glances at me and Logan. “I’ll give you two a moment. Make it quick.”

She snaps her fingers at the two officials who accompanied us inside, and they all move away toward the check-in counter. Cadet Waller speaks fast into her earpiece.

Logan turns to me, and every muscle stands out in his body. His eyes are bluish-gray, starry-night and never-ending. They make my stomach squeeze.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

“But it’s not.”

He’ll die up here once I’m gone. They’ll work him too hard. They’ll take things from him he might not get back.

Unless I find a way to save him. If there’s a way, I will find it. I’m Promising now, which means people might listen to me. The Developers might listen, if when the time comes that I’m allowed to pick a job, I pick one that will get me closer to them.

I’ll convince them to make an exception. I’ll do whatever it takes.

I take deep breaths to keep my eyes from watering.

Logan sighs and pulls me into his arms. I feel his heart beating fast through his wet shirt. “You’ll love it down there,” he says softly. “It’ll be even better than we imagined.”

Even if it isn’t better, there isn’t any choice for me here. The Developers picked me for Extraction and they didn’t pick Logan. I have to live with that now. Unless …

“What if…” I swallow. “What if I stayed? What if we found some way to run, instead? What if we broke into the security hub and took down the force field and got out and found somewhere to hide—”

“Clementine, shh. We can’t break into the security hub.”

He’s right; it would be near impossible. There must be a thousand security codes required to get inside. Not to mention all the systems we’d have to sort through to find the activation center for the force-field fence around the settlement, and all the skill it would take to shut it down. And that’s without taking into account the officials who guard the hub 24-7.

A sound breaks free of my mouth, half a sob, half a sound of annoyance. I clench the bottom of Logan’s shirt in my hands. “It’s not fair. They’re going to hurt you.”

“Please don’t be scared for me.” He hugs me tighter. “You’re leaving, you got that? You’re getting out of here. There’s nowhere else to go.”

He’s right, but that doesn’t lessen the tightness in my throat. That doesn’t make me feel any better about leaving him.

“Down there”—Logan pauses to take a shaky breath, and pulls away to cup my face in his hands—“you’ll have a lot more opportunity. You should use it, since the rest of us can’t. You should figure out how to change things on the Surface and in the other outer sectors.”

“You think that’s possible?”

Logan’s thumb brushes my cheek. His hands are callused from fieldwork, but they feel gentle on my skin. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

I’m not sure he’s right about that. Maybe I’m good with numbers and science, maybe I’m a fast climber, but I’m no smarter than anyone else who’s ever lived. There’ve been hundreds of rebels in the past who’ve tried to change the system. They all failed. Rebellion is the reason the Developers make us live like slaves in the first place.

“I’ll try,” I say, “but you have to promise you won’t do anything stupid. Don’t rebel, don’t try to run, just get through like we always have. I’m going to try to convince the Developers to make an exception for you.”

His hands drop away from my face. “I said don’t worry about me, Clementine.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything crazy.” Please don’t kill yourself, I mean. He knows what I mean; I can see it in his eyes.

But he doesn’t answer. I wonder if I was right to bring up that option. Now, even if he says it won’t be one for him, I won’t know if I believe him. I’ll always worry that he’ll wake up one morning and decide he’s done fighting.

I swallow hard. “Please promise.”

“I promise I won’t,” he says quietly. “As long as there’s any chance I might see you again, I won’t. But that’s all I’ll promise.”

“I’ll save you, okay?” I wipe the tears off my cheeks. “I’ll make the Developers save you.”

“Okay,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. He’s trying to make me feel better, but he thinks he’s going to die no matter what I do.

I have to prove him wrong.

The sound of someone else’s breathing comes from behind me. “Time to go,” Cadet Waller says.

Logan closes his eyes for a brief moment and nods. The two officials step over and place their hands on his shoulder.

“I guess I’ll see you,” Logan says.

It feels like a million needles are sticking into my skin, all over my body. But I force myself to nod.

Logan starts to turn away.

“Wait!” I say.

He pauses. I don’t know what I’m doing. But I rush forward anyway and throw my arms around his waist. He pulls me closer to him, so close it’s like he’s trying to mold us together. He smells like musk and rain and hope. He feels like safety.

Without thinking, without realizing what I’m doing, I tilt my chin up to find his lips. Something feverish registers in his eyes.

His mouth moves to mine, and our lips brush. The particles between them are charged. Lightning shoots up every inch of my body.

Hands pull him out of my grip. Water blurs my eyes.

“I’m sorry, but he has to go,” Cadet Waller says.

“I won’t leave.” I reach for Logan again.

“You have to,” he says, blinking hard as the officials pull him away, toward the entrance doors. “I’ll be fine.”

The doors open. The officials pull him outside, into the rainy moonlight.

“No, you won’t be.” I should run to him. But my legs shake when I try to walk.

“Don’t forget me, Clementine.” The doors start to slide shut, and his voice becomes urgent. “If you don’t know already, you should know, I—”

Closing steel drowns his words. His face is lost through the glass and the rain.

I know what he was going to say. I stumble to the doors. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care whether I get to leave or not; I can’t leave him.

A hand closes around my arm. Cadet Waller.

I try to pull away from her, but she only grips me tighter. “Clementine, please. Control yourself,” she snaps.

I stop fighting her. After a moment, she lets go of me. I stare at the doors and send my sorrys through them.

Cadet Waller shakes her head at me. “Come along. Everyone’s waiting.”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I follow her.

I run a shaky hand down the length of my arm and try to breathe. I have to escape because it’s the only option for me—and also for him. It’s the only way I might convince the Developers to save him too.

I will return for him. I will save him. I won’t forget him or the feel of his fingers lingering on my skin.

He used to say he’d never leave me alone, not ever. Now I’m leaving him.

*   *   *

I sit in my seat inside a rumbling hovercraft, the words It’s going to be okay playing over and over in my head.

The ship is small and sleek from the outside. Inside, there are passenger seats behind the cockpit: six rows with three seats each on either side of the aisle, and luggage compartments overhead. But the compartments are empty. We don’t own any possessions but the clothes on our back and the shoes on our feet.

After leaving the departure bay, we flew through a short tunnel that looked like nothing but gray streaks through the windows. Then we headed down into the Pipeline, the underground passage through the center of Kiel. I thought I’d fall out of my seat at first, we were moving so fast.

Now the ship doesn’t jostle me as much. My seat straps hold me steady. I clutch the armrests and glue my eyes to the backs of the seats in front of me, and take deep breaths so I won’t feel nauseated.

The Extractions in the other rows are chattering and laughing, talking about what the Core will be like. I’ve seen all of them in classes before, but they’re not my friends. I don’t usually talk to them.

The girl beside me is quiet, sifting through her long strands of blond hair with her fingers and running her teeth over her bottom lip. I don’t really know her, either, but I recognize her from the fields yesterday. She’s the girl who didn’t run or even scream during the test. Ariadne.

There’s a crackle, and Cadet Waller’s voice comes over the ship-com. She’s sitting with the pilots in the cockpit. “We’re entering Crust, Extractions,” she says. “We’ll slow so you can catch a glimpse of it.”

Holding my breath, I risk a glance out the window. Now there are lights on the metal walls outside: red, green, yellow, and purple. They’re a blur at first, but they become clearer as the pilot slows the hovercraft.

Abruptly, the metal walls fall away and are replaced by glass. There’s a dust-filled room beyond it with a rocky floor, though the way we’re traveling, the floor is sideways. An official stands with a pulse rifle in hand. Pathways beyond him lead into tunnels made of the same grimy, blackening rock as the floor.

We pass another window that shows us more rocky pathways, and then another. These must be the coal mines, or near them. The parentless children in the Crust work camp collect the coal, which is Kiel’s major energy source. They spend their days choking on dust and fire smoke in the mines. They spend their nights in cramped, rocky caves with no fresh air, while the adults of Crust live in the comfort and safety of steel walls in their underground city.

I don’t envy Crust kids. Their home is worse than the Surface, where at least we can see the stars and pretend there’s someplace better out there.

But I guess they’re lucky in one respect: They don’t have to fear the moon.

The Pipeline glass is replaced by metal walls with flashing lights again. “We’re now approaching Mantle,” Cadet Waller says over the ship-com. “Its biggest weapons manufacturing facility will be visible through the windows.”

I see it in seconds: a facility filled with massive machinery and steam. I glimpse the dirty, wearied faces of the child workers. I bet the machines make noise all night—constant, high-pitched squealing. The kids probably fall asleep to it. I wonder if they have bunk rooms, or just blankets on the floor. Or no blankets at all.

It’s hard to believe, but a thousand years ago, none of these sectors existed. Everyone lived on the Surface in three large settlements: one near the mountains, one near the desert, one near the ocean. When pollution weakened the ozone layer, and the moon’s acid began seeping through, the scientists proposed underground expansion. There was nowhere else to go. The research facilities in the Surface cities offered some protection, but they couldn’t hold all the citizens.

So the lower sectors were constructed, along with the acid shield. The planet became more like a spaceship underground. The scientists who led Project Rebuild were elected as the new government leaders, and they called themselves Developers.

“We’re now approaching Lower,” Cadet Waller says over the ship-com.

The textile factories appear through the window. This time, I avert my eyes. I don’t like seeing the workers. They remind me of Logan and Grady. Some of them took the test this year too. They fought for escape just like me.

But they didn’t win.

The windows disappear, and the Pipeline lights flash by. My heartbeat picks up with every passing second. My veins tangle. My lungs constrict.

Lower is the last sector before the Core, which means we’re almost there.

I dig my fingernails into my legs when the ship-com crackles on again. “We’ve just entered the Core sector,” Cadet Waller says, and an excited murmur slides down the rows of passenger seats. “We should reach the flight port in approximately five minutes.”

Sixteen years I’ve spent fighting for this. Sixteen years I’ve spent longing for it, and now I’m sitting here and I can’t breathe, and I wish I had more time to prepare myself.

I’m scared nothing is going to change. I’m scared everything is going to be different.

The hovercraft’s engine stutters. We slow and fly into a tunnel horizontal to the Pipeline, and I grip my seat’s armrests. Streaks of gray show through the windows. A blur of red lights comes into focus as the ship lowers onto a port dock.

The steel door at the back of the hovercraft slides open. Our seat belts unlatch automatically, while Cadet Waller emerges from the cockpit and rattles off commands, things like “Please walk carefully” and “Let’s make sure our behavior is appropriate.”

I’m half listening. I’m half shaking.

I tell myself, “It’s going to be fine here,” and, “You have to get up now; you have to walk; you have to be brave.”

The other Extractions giggle nervously, standing and making their way off the back ramp, touching the seats they pass to steady themselves. Beside me, Ariadne pushes out of her seat with each of her eyes the size of the moon. I have to follow her or I’ll be the only person left on the ship, besides the pilot.

So I do.