The Star Dwellers (33 page)

“Eww, gross,” I hear Elsey say. It’s about as
relaxed a comment as I’ve ever her heard make, and I turn to see
what has prompted it.

A bat lies twitching on the tunnel floor,
injured, dying. For some reason I can’t take my eyes off of it. A
sense of dread enters my heart—like the dying bat is an omen, a
sign of things to come. Not for us in general, but for me
personally. One of the Resistance soldiers strides forward and
stomps on the winged rat, and when he lifts his boot again, it is
still. Dead. An omen, perhaps.

I look away and keep on walking.
You make
your own fate.
My father’s words, and yet they help to calm my
troubled mind. Adele cannot die. I won’t let her.

“What are you thinking?” Roc asks.

“Heavy stuff,” I say.

“Thought so.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Only to a friend,” he says, grinning.

I smile back, glad that he’s here. “I’m
worried my father will target Adele again, maybe as early as the
peace summit.” I told Roc what had happened before we slept last
night.

“And Tawni, too?” he asks sharply, his brown
eyes flitting back and forth like a caged animal. I keep forgetting
he’s got a crush on Tawni.

“I don’t think so,” I say. “I’m pretty sure
she was just collateral damage. But if she’s near Adele when he
goes after her, Tawni could be in danger too.”

“We can’t let anything happen to either of
them,” Roc says firmly.

“We won’t,” I promise. “We won’t leave their
sides.”

* * *

Less than an hour later we emerge from the
tunnel and into subchapter 1. It’s weird being out of the
mysterious catacombs of the Resistance and back in a proper city.
The last time I was in a moon dweller city it was subchapter 26,
and the city was crumbling beneath the weight of the star dweller
attack. I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s not this. The city
is untouched. Old and rundown, but not bombed, not full of smoking
debris and rubble. Instead, it’s just as I remember it from my last
annual contract negotiation trip. The Water City, they call it,
because it’s literally built on an underground lake.

Heavy, stone blocks emerge from the
water—which appears black in the early light of dawn provided by
the overhead cavern lights—like majestic ships. The blocks are
separated by thin canals, which run horizontally and vertically
throughout the subchapter, intersecting like streets on a grid.
Arcing stone bridges connect the stone blocks, on which the city is
built. Compared to some of the towering buildings in other Moon
Realm subchapters, the houses and buildings are built relatively
low, rising two or three stories at the most. There is one
exception, however, the massive dome in the city center, standing
out like a beacon and dwarfing the other structures. They say you
can see the subchapter 1 dome from anywhere in the city. It’s code
named the Big House—and is the site of the peace summit.

“At least they left us this,” Ben says. My
head jerks to look at him—I didn’t realize he’d come up beside me.
At the question in my eyes, he says, “It’s the only subchapter the
star dwellers didn’t bomb. It’s like they planned for us to meet
here, almost wanted us to.”

An eerie blast of cold air rushes through the
enormous cavern and I shiver, both from the wind and from Ben’s
words. They don’t give me comfort, not after everything that has
happened.

We leave the edge of the city and tramp
across the first bridge. On the other side a long thin boat is
waiting. It might hold six or seven people—certainly not five
hundred Resistance soldiers.

Ben shouts orders to a few of the soldiers
behind us. Evidently they’ll be taking the route on foot, through
the city. We, on the other hand, are getting a lift. “Hop in,” Ben
says.

Roc gives Elsey a hand and helps her into the
gondola. “Thank you, kind sir,” she says, grinning.

“Be careful not to rock the boat, my dear
lady,” Roc mimics with his nose in the air, making Elsey
giggle.

I follow my friends, sitting in front of
them. The boat is so thin only one person can sit in each row. Ben
and Jinny follow, and Ram stands in the center position, carrying
an extraordinarily long stick, which he promptly uses to push off
from the depths below. We shoot forward and I watch his technique
as he shoves the staff hard into the water in front of us, lifting
his body slightly to gain leverage before propelling us forward. He
repeats this again and again, moving us swiftly toward our
destination.

While the rest of the group are forced to
twist and turn and cross dozens of bridges, we sail straight under
them, reaching the city center in about ten minutes. Although I’ve
seen what the locals simply call “the Dome” a half-dozen times
before, I’m still not prepared for it as it looms up in front of
us. The curved platelets that make up its exterior are a thin,
shiny metal that manage to reflect even the dim light afforded to
the subchapter, making the Dome appear bright and sparkling. From
our vantage point in the canal, the result is dazzling, and I
shield my eyes slightly with one hand.

We dock at a short platform and disembark,
and strangely the gleam of the Dome dulls more and more the closer
we get. The five or six sets of steps up to the entrance vanish
beneath our feet in a blur. It’s like just the sight of the Dome
has given us a boost of energy, making our steps quick and
light.

The inside of the Dome is just what you would
expect from the outside. The massive stone roof curls upwards above
us, reaches its apex, and then wraps back down, forming a
semicircle that reminds me of half an orange, like my mom used to
cut off the trees for Roc and me when we were little. Rows of steps
wrap around the edges of the Dome, starting at the top and working
their way down to the circular podium in the center. The space
could easily seat fifty thousand people.

But today, there will be few. The forty-two
moon dweller VPs; the leaders of the Resistance, like Ben and Jinny
and Jonas and Maia and Ram; then there’s me and Roc and Elsey and
hopefully Adele and Tawni and Adele’s mom—Anna, I remember—all
surrounded by a few hundred Resistance soldiers providing
protection for the whole event.

Already the VPs are milling around the
center, shaking hands, talking and laughing as if this is just like
any other gathering of Moon Realm leadership. You would never guess
that the conclusion of the meeting could thrust the Realm into
civil war, or worse.

As I’m still taking it all in, the Resistance
soldiers arrive, pouring through the various entrances along the
sides. They must have run to have made it here so fast.

“C’mon,” Ben says, tugging me at the elbow.
“We should get out of the way.”

I resist, jerking my arm away. “But what
about Adele? We need to be here when she arrives.”

Ben looks at me with understanding eyes. “We
will
be here. Just below, in the private chambers. My men
all know to send them down the moment they get here.”

I look at Roc and he shrugs. “Okay,” I say,
moving to follow Ben.

We descend the steps as if we’re going to
join the VPs in the center platform, but then cut through an
entrance to the seating area, tunneling beneath them. I know from
my previous visits that there are dozens of rooms beneath the
seats, where less public meetings are held amongst the politicians.
It’s dark, even though the lights are on, and I’m reminded of one
of the more mundane reasons we’re doing all this: My father refuses
to provide adequate power to the lower Realms.

Not far down the hallway I can hear the
murmur of soft voices. Soft orange light spills out into the
tunnel. We make for the room—Ben enters first. “Vice President
Morgan,” he says.

“Hello, Ben,” I hear her say.

We enter the space and I’m surprised to find
a well-lit room with plush couches running along all four walls.
There are only a handful of other people occupying them, including
Morgan. I recognize them as a few of the other VPs who support the
Resistance. They stare at us, hovering against the wall.

“Do you mind if my daughter joins us?” Ben
asks politely.

“Of course,” Morgan says. “I understand that
you’ll want to keep her close by your side during a time such as
this.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a seat, everyone. We were just
discussing the peace summit. Tristan, I’m glad to see you’re
here.”

“I’m glad to be here,” I hear my voice say
automatically, but I’m not really thinking about my words. I’m
thinking about how Ben is keeping Elsey close to him. He thinks
something bad could happen. I’ve got to find Adele.

We sit down across from the other VPs and
perpendicular to Morgan. “What’s the situation?” Ben asks. “Do you
have a sense of where the majority lies?”

Morgan shakes her head, but not because the
answer is no. “We’re still stuck at eighteen, Ben. Unless something
changes drastically today, we’re not going to get a majority for
the cause.”

Ben frowns, stares at the ceiling for a
moment. I shift awkwardly in my chair. “Here’s what we have to do.
I’ll speak to as many of the opposing VPs individually before the
summit, see if I can sway them; I still have a few friends in high
places,” he says, winking at me. “Then we will start the conference
with a speech from Tristan to do the right thing, to support an
honorable cause, that sort of thing.”

“But they haven’t listened to me before,” I
blurt out. “Why now?” At that moment I feel a familiar buzzing
along my scalp, and I gasp, but no one seems to notice.

“It’s a one-two punch. They trust me a hell
of a lot more than you, so if I set them up for your speech, it
might change their reaction. If we’re lucky we might grab the
majority right from under their noses.”
Yeah, we’d have to get
pretty lucky
, I think, massaging my head as it continues to
tingle.

“I don’t know…” Morgan murmurs.

Before she can continue her thought, the door
bursts open and Ram barges in. “I’m very sorry to interrupt,” he
says, “but they’re here.”

I freeze.
They?
As in,
her
? I’m
on my feet in an instant, my chest buzzing with excitement, my mind
racing, feeling more adrenaline than if I was in a swordfight.
She’s here!

I barely hear Ben say, “Just please set up
the meetings, Morgan,” before he sprints from the room, with me
right behind him.

“They’re in the first room to the right!” Ram
growls after us.

T
he train ride was
long and I didn’t get nearly as much sleep as I would have liked,
but still I feel wired. I’ve never been to the Water City before,
and I’m taken by its beauty. And the Dome, which we’ve just
entered, is the most beautiful of all.

I’m shocked by the buzz of activity inside.
Men and woman are moving frantically about, dressed in dark-colored
jumpsuits, some brown, some black, some gray. They’re not uniforms,
because, well, they’re not
uniform
, but they look somewhat
coordinated, like they’re all on the same side.

The moment we enter I feel a shiver down my
spine, although I’m not cold.

“The Resistance is here,” my mom
explains.

“What do we do?” I ask.

“Look for your father.”

Dad!
I think, as my head swivels
through the crowd, trying to locate the grizzly man I left in
subchapter 26.

“Excuse me,” a woman says, approaching from
the side, “do you need hel—” She stops suddenly, her eyes ablaze
with recognition. “Ms. Rose?”

“Yes?” my mother and I reply
simultaneously.

The woman looks back and forth between us.
Initially her eyebrows lower in confusion, but then they slowly
lift as understanding flows into her mind. “Anna and Adele,” she
says.

“And Tawni,” my friend says.

“And Trevor,” Trevor jokes. “I’ll be down on
the platform area making sure everything is ready.” He walks
off.

I laugh. “We’re all here,” I say. “Can you
take us to my dad—I mean, to Ben Rose?”

“Of course, of course. Right this way.”

Shivers of excitement are rippling through my
body as we follow the woman down some stairs, into a darkened
hallway, through an archway and into a room. “Just a moment, wait
here,” she says.

There are three beds and two benches. Tawni
and my mother sit next to each other on one of the benches, facing
the still-open door. I remain on my feet, unable to sit for fear
that the energy coursing through me will be stifled.

A minute passes slowly. Then another.

Then he’s there, the man from my childhood.
Not the unkempt, unshaven, bloodied fighter from before, but the
clean-cut, handsome man who raised me. I rush to him, but I’m too
late. My mom is already in his arms, clutching him to her like
releasing him would mean death for all of us. Over her shoulder his
eyes are closed, his chin buried in her neck. I feel tears well up
in my eyes.

As if by magic, Elsey appears at their side,
hugging them both around the waist. My mom’s arm curls around her
and she says, “Oh, El. Sweet El.”

The tears are bubbling up faster than I can
blink them away. My mom’s other arm reaches back blindly, beckons
me into the fold. Two steps and I’m there, surrounded by the warmth
of the family I love, the family who’s been ripped apart,
convicted, abused, battered—but not beaten. Never beaten.

And then, abruptly, the tears stop. I’m
complete again so there’s no need to cry. My body recognizes right
away what my mind takes a few more seconds to understand.
I’m
home
. Not at our puny house in subchapter 14, but in the place
where home really lives. In the love of my family.

I pull away to see smiling faces, a circle of
strength, of goodness, arms around each other protectively. I’ll
never lose these people again.