The Flight of the Silvers (Silvers #1)(63)

Despite the simple geographical hierarchy, the Silvers had an impossible time telling the stations apart by content. Whether it was National-1, Southwest-6, or San Diego-13, it was all the same archaic tripe. The sitcoms were filled with pratfalls and slide whistles. The dramas were as bland as meringue. Even the advertisements were blunt, unsophisticated objects—suit-clad spokesmen delivering the joys of soapsheets to fluffy-haired housewives.

Soon only Zack had the stomach to watch live programs. He lingered mostly on newscasts, and ran to Czerny whenever he encountered some impenetrable word or phrase.

“The reporters keep referring to some people as Deps. What are those?”

“Nickname for Domestic Protections agents,” Czerny replied. “They’re our federal law enforcers. Our FBI, as you call them.”

“What are predictives?”

“Predictives are illegal pills that supposedly allow people to channel their ‘inner temporis’ and see the future. It’s all bunk. Most are just cheap hallucinogens.”

“Why does the anchorman close out each newscast by telling me to ‘keep walking’?”

“It’s just an American way of saying ‘Be well.’ Dates back to a famous Roosevelt speech. I mean Teddy Roosevelt. I keep forgetting your history has two.”

One news report shook Zack to the core, a nostalgic look at the reconstruction of Manhattan. In the wake of the Cataclysm, the world’s greatest engineers came together to design a second-draft city, one that would carry the island into the next century and beyond. The present-day New York was a marvel to look at, with brilliant glass spires of all shapes and colors, tempic tubes that connected buildings at the highest floors, ethereal ghost billboards, and ten different levels of aer traffic. The images reduced Zack to wet-eyed wonder.

As August turned to September, the others began to notice a change in Zack’s behavior. His once relentless wit died down to the occasional lazy quip. He spent more time alone in his room. When asked if he was okay, he merely replied with one-word answers. Sure. Yup. Spiffy.

On September 3, David and Mia played an impromptu game of “red hands” in the lobby, giggling as they attempted to thwart each other’s palm slaps. Zack watched from his drawing chair, stone-faced, until he suddenly dropped his sketchbook and marched upstairs to Quint’s office. For once the cartoonist met him with a serious face.

“You remember our deal, Sterling? About the money?”

“Of course. A thousand dollars for each of you. For each week of your continued cooperation.”

“Right. Tomorrow it’ll be six weeks.”

Quint’s stomach lurched. “And your point in bringing this up?”

“You know why,” Zack replied. “Get your cash together. I’m leaving.”

—

The Silvers’ next meal was a loud one.

“For God’s sake, Zack! Why?”

He’d announced his upcoming departure with drab triviality, as if he were merely changing e-mail addresses. The others weren’t so blasé.

“I mean, what will you do when the money runs out?” Hannah asked. “Street caricatures? You gonna go door-to-door offering to freshen up vegetables?”

Zack smirked. “I like that. I’ll start a whole business. They’ll call me the Wandering Juve.”

“This isn’t funny! This is the rest of your life!”

“Right. My life. My decision. And I decided enough is enough. Every day I stay here, I feel more and more like Quint’s house cat. I eat his food. I lounge on his chairs. I beg for information about the world when I should be out there seeing it for myself.”

“But where will you go?” Mia asked.

“I’ll make my way to New York. If it’s anything like my hometown, it’s still Alien Central, which means there’ll be people hiring under the table. I’ll work for a living. And when I’m not working, I’ll look for my brother.”

The dining room grew quiet as the others retreated into thought. David came back first.

“Zack, I’m going to be blunt with you in a way you won’t like. I say this because I respect you—”

“Just spit it out already.”

“You won’t find your brother,” David said. “Even on the slim chance that a handful of people in New York received bracelets like we did, there’s no guarantee Josh is one of them. And even if he was, you’re not going to find him in a city of eight million people. It’s just unrealistic.”

Zack tensely shrugged. “I suppose it is. But if there’s a chance, even a small one, I have to try.”

“And to hell with us, right?”

From the moment he dropped his news, Zack had simmered in the heat of Amanda’s harsh green glare. Her cast had come off an hour ago. She held her mended wrist, wiggling her fingers as if she were playing an invisible trumpet.

“I don’t enjoy the thought of leaving you guys,” Zack insisted. “In fact, anyone who wants to join me is more than welcome.”

“Bullshit. You never asked. You never even tried to convince us.”

He looked at Amanda in flummox. “Wait. You’re mad because I didn’t ask you to come with me?”

“No, I’m mad because you decided to leave us all without a second thought. You’re the most adaptable one out of all of us. Maybe we need you. Maybe you need us. Maybe it would hurt you to lose the only people you know from your world. Did any of that occur to you? Or does none of it matter because you’re feeling antsy?”