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to dominate his senses, Michael succumbed to an unexpected notion: Hope. For the moment, he entertained the thought of his reckless journey turning toward the positive. Like Sammie, he knew his education was just beginning. But maybe, just maybe, he could learn the ropes?

“Do you smell it, Michael?” She said. “The ocean. It’s salt, but different somehow. It’s sweeter. Purer?”

He took a strong whiff and shrugged. “If you say so. Like I said, don’t have much experience with the ocean.”

“It’s my imagination. Maybe I need it to be different.”

“This Earth don’t have a moon, so who’s to say the seawater ought to be the same?”

They admired the ocean for a moment, until Sammie let go of Michael’s hand. She gazed north, up the beach and then inland. She locked her eyes in amazement.

“Ohmigod. Can it be?”

He followed her eyes but needed her help to home in on what transfixed her. The vertical object at first seemed incoherent, more like a beam extending toward the clouds, shimmering at first and then fading in the seconds thereafter. He did not realize the flickering fire continued its ascent until Sammie pointed up above the scattered clouds and toward a darker, deeper blue sky. Michael adjusted his eyes again, questioning whether the object, which rose in a straight line toward the sky, was natural or manmade.

“I didn’t realize New Stockholm was so close,” she said.

“So close to what?”

Before Sammie responded, a shadow passed in front of them. Patricia, the Chief, answered for her.

“It’s SkyTower. The greatest engineering achievement in history.”

His Tier 1 learning returned in a flash. “Oh, yeah. The program said something about this. It was one of them blink-and-you-miss-it details. It flew over my head. They called it a… space elevator?”

“Originally,” said Patricia, whose arrival did not surprise Michael. “First erected eleven hundred years ago. Over time, they scaled it out as a series of interconnected transport stations, tourist attractions, and small cities.”

Sammie gawked. “Daddy said the Chancellors built it over four centuries. He said you had to see it for yourself.”

“How far away is it?” Michael asked.

“Two hundred miles due north,” said Patricia, who had lingered a discrete block behind them since they left the landing, just in case trouble arose. “From here, when the sun hits it just right, it seems like a laser blasting toward space, or a fireball rising from the Earth. Up close, it can be disorienting. Most Chancellors in Philadelphia Redux never lift their eyes above the traditional skyline.”

“Damn. That I got to see up close.”

Patricia hovered near the teens and offered a frown.

“The farther we stay from SkyTower, the best for everyone,” she said. “Ophelia has received intelligence connecting yesterday’s misfortunes to one occupant of that structure. I just came off a circastream with her. She wants us to return to the landing at once.”

“What’s happened?” Sammie asked.

“Complications. We might leave New Stockholm today after all.”

Michael knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

26

O PHELIA TOMELIN FIDGETED AS THEY TOOK their seats around her, which did not set well with Michael. She rubbed her hands together in her lap just as his mother did before she delivered uncomfortable news.

“Conditions have changed,” Ophelia began. “On the positive, we have the second Jewel in our possession. She is being transported under blind flight protocols. If our precautions work, she should arrive at our rendezvous point in the next twelve hours. However, several variables might disrupt our plans.”

“What variables?” Patricia asked.

“I have cause to believe they might make another effort to intercept her Scram before it reaches the NAC.”

“You said she was traveling under blind flight.”

“There are no guarantees.” She turned to Rikard, who piloted his shuttle to New Stockholm under blind flight. “Explain about the complication with the stack-grid.”

Rikard nodded. “Stack-grids allow the consortiums to monitor Solomons. Most domestic pilots are Solomons, which is more leverage than the Chancellory would ever allow. So, they load a transponder in our circastream amps.” He tapped his right temple. “It latches onto a ship’s transponder when we take flight.”

“Wow,” Michael intervened. “So, the Chancellors can track you everywhere. How do you…?”

“We learn BFPs from experience, how to bypass the transponder links for a limited run. But it only works within the consortium. Whatever protocols the Jewel’s pilot uses over the Atlantic, those go out the window as soon as it hits the NAC’s stack-grid.”

Patricia sighed. “Which means we must time our rendezvous for quick retrieval. Then Rikard can take us one step closer to escape.”

“Escape to where?” Michael asked.

Ophelia looked away. “I’ll know more in due course. Faith, Michael.”

“Got loads of that,” he said. “Just not real big on trust.”

Brey, who sipped coffee throughout the exchange, spoke up.

“A minute ago, you said there were variables, plural. Another?”

She sat back. “The Jewel herself. She has been non-compliant and hostile and may be unstable. She has killed many people. She triggered a nuclear blast on the other side.”

“Sounds like Jamie,” Michael said. “Except for the unstable part. Although melting down that dude in front of us was heavy-duty.”

    “But the difference,” Olivia said, “is James uncovered his truth in the final hours of his life. We believe the Ukrainian has been planning her rebirth for years.”

Brey sighed. “The literal opposite of how they were designed.”

    “Which creates volatility. If she accepts us, we move forward.”

“And if not?”

Ophelia surveyed the room. “Then we contain her. Or worst case, we kill her and focus our effort on James and the Jewels off-world.”

Brey nodded. “Kill a walking nuke? Sounds easy enough.”

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm, Brey. She belongs to us. We started this project, we will finish it. If anyone else…”

“Speaking of anyone else,” Sammie jumped in. “You haven’t said a word about Jamie’s

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