Empress of a Thousand Skies(67)

Jeth looked in both directions where the landscape disappeared around the base of the satellite dish. “I gotta get moving now.” They shook hands. Aly was about to drop his hand when Jeth pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” he said into his ear, “and about Vin.” Then he patted him hard on the back. He and Kara nodded at each other as he stood up, adjusted his belt, and went on his way.

When Jeth was out of sight, Pavel helped Aly position the device according to the wind and the angle. Aly silently counted to three and released the lever; the claw catapulted into space, and the rope streamed behind it, whistling as it cut through the air. He held his breath until the claw cleared the edge and caught on the rim.

“It worked.” Aly could barely believe it himself. He gave the rope a tug.

Kara buttoned up her big coat, and after Pavel compacted into a dome, she helped strap the droid to Aly’s back. Then she grabbed hold of the rope. “Mind if I go first?” she said, already grabbing for it.

“Wait,” he said. He looked up. It was a long climb. “How’s your head?”

She shrugged. “Broken.”

“I’m being serious. Are you going to be able to make it? What if—?”

“I get it, Aly. Chivalry is not dead and all.” She gripped the rope with one hand and mounted it. “My head has lasted me this long. What’s a ten-story rope climb?”

Aly watched as pieces of the silicone rope slid out at a forty-five-degree angle, spreading halfway down the sole of her foot to grip it. It peeled away like putty when she took her next step. It wouldn’t bear their entire body weight for long, especially not his, but at least their biceps wouldn’t be melting.

Aly decided he would take her word for it. He grabbed hold of the rope and climbed after her, trying to get used to Pavel’s weight on his back—and it went all right until he felt himself slipping halfway up, the rope thinning out. It was slow to repair, and the texture started to change; it got stickier just as the wind picked up. They sailed a few feet over to the left, both of them clamping down with their feet, knees, elbows, and hands to stay on. The rope continued to stretch as they climbed, and every time he gained a foot he’d fall back down six inches. He was scrambling desperately—the rope gummy, like melted marshmallows coating his palms. He swore he was going to fall.

When Kara finally reached the top she heaved herself over the edge of the satellite dish and disappeared. Aly launched himself right behind her just as the rope fell away from under his feet. With nothing to anchor it, the claw attachment skittered down the slope toward the concave center of the surface. It was a long way down.

He landed next to Kara, the two of them on their stomachs holding on to the lip of the structure with both hands. He was shaking as he tried to catch his breath.

“Are you laughing?” he asked Kara. Her mouth was parted; her expression was somewhere between relief and terror, kind of like the girl on the zeppelin during Nero’s press conference.

“It’s just—doesn’t it feel like we’re in a giant cereal bowl?” she asked. His arms were outstretched, and he readjusted his grip to look behind him.

It kind of did look like a big bowl, with Rhesto’s mountains just beyond the brim. He imagined a giant taking it to his lips and sucking up the last of the milk. “You’re nuts, you know that?”

“You’re not the first person to call me that.”

Aly rolled onto his side and held on with one hand, the other unstrapping Pavel from his back. He set the droid’s wheels on the surface but kept him attached to the strap, so they were tethered to one another, and he rolled down only a few feet below them.

“You sure you want to do this?” The claw had finally hit the port that jutted out of the center.

“You’re asking now?” She looked below them. “Let’s go on three.”

Her hazel eyes—were they always hazel?—met his and never left as they counted together. “Three,” they said in unison, and Kara flipped on her back and slid down, riding the surface of her massive jacket like it was a magic carpet. Aly flew down right with her. Somehow their hands found each other’s.

Time moved fast and slow all at once. It didn’t feel like it was stretching out so much as getting bigger, the big rim of the bowl shifting above him and framing the sky in its perfect center. It was an impossible moment of peace. He’d prove his innocence. He would show everyone.

Suddenly Pavel’s leash whipped out of his hand, and they fell away as the droid stayed stuck on a ridge he and Kara had just barely missed.

“PAVEL!” Aly called, and tried to flip himself over to slow down. Kara tried, too, but they got tangled up, rushing down like a tide. They tumbled. Everything happened in near silence and small grunts. He’d given up trying to get Pavel back, but now they were coming in fast on the port below, right at the center of the bowl. It had looked far smaller from up top, but now he saw it was a raised cylinder in the middle. At this rate, if they didn’t stop, they’d break their legs, best-case scenario. Worst-case scenario, maybe flip over it and break their necks.

Aly tore his sleeve open as he dragged his elbow into the surface; it was raw and bloody, and he could feel where the friction heat and metal were burning his skin. Kara’s eyes went wide as she saw the port, and she clawed at the surface. Her hair in his mouth. His hand on her waist. He dug a heel in and could smell the rubber of his sole burning. Their bodies had found each other in the mad scramble, parallel now by the time they’d slowed—his foot just tapping the port. The curve of her hip brushed against him, and even now—filthy and exhausted, skinned to hell, and on the run for his life—Aly felt his face flush.