Chapter 9 9

My gut is hollow and full of a million pounds of Neron at the same time. My mouth opens to say something, but I can't find any words. It closes once more.

My connect-link vibrates and I automatically look down at the screen that lights up on my forearm. It's a message from my father that dinner is ready; he wonders where I am.

"Imagine the chaos," Reena says as she moves onto the next task in her shop of crime and magic. "The panic that would happen. The effect on the economy. The entire planet would collapse within weeks. It's not a perfect world. But it's better this way."

And her words make my insides harden. They ignite a fire in the pit of my stomach. I see it in her eyes, her cold, calm eyes. I won't change her mind. My words won't make a difference.

"You're wrong," I say before turning on my heel and stalking out of the cramped space.

We're eight terra-levels below ground, so it's quite a climb up through the twisted service tunnels of the sewer systems to get back to the surface. I feel like I'm suffocating by the time I level out.

I'm drowning. I'm twisted up. I can't breathe. I'm conflicted.

Dad can tell there's something wrong as we eat our dinner. I know all of my emotions are rolling off me in waves, and I hardly touch my food. But it's one of the great things about him-he understands when I'm filled with too much. I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes, and he knows when not to prod so I don't explode.

So he leaves me alone.

"I'm going out," I say that night after I've cleaned the dishes. "You need the rest, so don't wait up for me."

I shrug on a jacket and slip out the door before he can protest or ask me where I'm going.

It's dark outside, but not really. The sun set about thirty minutes ago, so the sky is black when I look up, other than the moon that sits high in the sky. It looks like it's neon blue, but only because it's reflecting back all the artificial light from Korpillion.

There are signs and glowing advertisements everywhere. There are lights turned on in windows, office buildings. In the towering elite buildings, they flash light shows and display different colors illuminating their homes.

It's dark outside, but so slam bright.

I stuff my hands in my pockets and set down the skywalk. I don't think about where I'm going, but my feet carry me there automatically.

There's a service door that looks shut, but isn't locked. It enters the side of one of the tallest buildings in this sector. I slip inside, closing the door behind me, and begin the climb.

I've heard that there are other planets where the residents have obesity problems. Not on Korpillion. When you have to walk anywhere you want to go, when the cities are more vertical than horizontal, you climb a lot of stairs. Our food is engineered to be the perfect balance for survival, and to keep people just healthy enough.

No one is getting fat on this planet; the government makes sure of that.

So I don't struggle when I climb all these stairs.

Fifteen minutes later, I push open another door. It lets out onto a landing. It isn't large. To the left, there is the service equipment to keep the upper half of this building cool. There's a landing just big enough for maybe a chair, and behind it, there's a ladder that rises up to the roof of the building.

I could go to the top, but it isn't as private. There's access up there to the residents who can afford to live in this building. I don't feel like getting caught.

I lean against the railing that prevents me from falling ninety-six floors to my death, looking out over the city.

It all looks the same. Tall building after tall building, all reaching for the sky. It's an endless jungle of concrete and steel. Where there were once roads where people used their personal transport vehicles, the space has been filled with more buildings. We get around using the skywalks that snake their way between the looming towers. Our lives are lived in an endless maze.

It's kind of beautiful, in a way. People created this. This didn't just appear here. They had to imagine it, design it, build it. It's taken centuries.

And the lights, while loud and bright, they're kind of beautiful against the backdrop of the dark sky and dark concrete.

Sometimes I feel bad about how bored I am with life here.

This is supposed to be the good place.

But that's all going to come to an end.

"You there?" I ask down the connection.

It's like I can feel him moving, hear him rustling, and then sliding into a quiet, private room. "I'm here."

I breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice in my head. "I have to warn you, I'm probably not going to be a very pleasant person tonight."

"I'm not a very pleasant person most of the time," he says, and I swear I can hear a little bit of a smile on his face. "What's wrong?"

I look out over the city, and I can see everything that's wrong. All these people. Suddenly I feel responsible for all of them. "Have you ever had a secret?" I ask.

"I don't know a single person who doesn't have secrets," he answers. His voice is so calm. There's this low, deep timbre to it. There's something about it that's unique. I've never heard a voice that sounds like his.

"Well, have you ever had a secret that would affect billions of people?"

My stomach twists in knots just at the thought of it.

"I can't say that I ever have had a secret of that scale," he confesses. "Surely, you don't actually mean billions."

I huff one short laugh and nod my head. "Actually, I do. And the thing that sucks about it is that I could tell people, but it would create so much chaos, I might actually make things worse. I hate that. I hate it so much, because it makes me feel responsible."

"One person can't be held accountable for billions," he says. His words are like a soft touch, like a hand on my back, rubbing for comfort and support.

"Sure they can," I argue, even though I want to accept his words. I'm in a self-depreciating spiral right now, and I have no intent to get myself out of it at the moment. "Look at Cyrillius. He's destroyed trillions of lives. And he doesn't even feel guilty about it."

Just saying his name makes my mouth taste bitter. As the heir and owner of Dominion, he makes all the calls that affect every single solar system. He could make the galaxy a better place. He could stop the centuries of greed and money. But he's only taken things twenty steps further than his father and his grandfather before him.

"Seems like a little bit of a jump, comparing yourself to him," he says quietly. "Just a few days ago you were complaining about your boring life, and now you're hiding a secret that could affect everyone on your planet?"

"Pretty insane how quickly life can change," I muse. Though, really, nothing has changed at all. Other than now I have to figure out how to get me and my dad, and Zayne, off-planet. "Know of anywhere good left in the galaxy?"