Crystal Keepers (13 page)

Cole started walking. It was strange to feel the exoskeleton assisting him. Back at his home in Mesa, when he walked up the stairs in front of his dad, his father would sometimes grab the back of his thighs just above the knees and help push his legs up the steps. This was similar, but as he experimented, the exo rig seemed to cover every movement of his arms and legs.

“Get dressed,” Roulette said.

Cole obeyed. None of the new equipment was bulky enough to make it tough to put his clothes back on. Mira returned to the room. Jace and Dalton got their clothes in place too.

“No wrists, gloves, or helmets?” Trickster checked.

“Correct,” Googol said. “This needs to be covert. The rigs are just an emergency precaution.”

“Okay,” Trickster said, raising his voice a bit. “I want each of you to try a little hop. Just enough to get you past your tiptoes.”

Cole bent his knees and did a gentle hop. He went higher than expected, as if he had caught somebody's bounce on a trampoline.

“If you jump hard, you'll hit the ceiling,” Trickster said. “Try a little higher than the first hop.”

Cole glanced at Dalton, who grinned from ear to ear. “These are like training wheels for life,” his friend said.

Turning his eyes toward the ceiling, Cole saw that it had to be fifteen feet overhead. Could he really touch it? That would mean he could slam-dunk a basketball! Where were these rigs during PE?

Jace shot up into the air, stretching for the ceiling and coming just short. Dalton did a more modest jump, but his feet still went a little higher than Cole's head. Mira went higher than Dalton but not as high as Jace.

Cole didn't want Jace teasing him, so he tried a pretty strong jump. The ceiling came at him fast, forcing him to use his hands to absorb the impact. Fortunately, the exo rig helped brace his effort. Then he fell back down, scared about how he would land, but the rig assisted there, too. It was like his legs had shocks now. Good ones.

“Follow directions, Cole,” Jace mocked.

“Whoa, you okay?” Dalton asked, coming to Cole's side. “For a minute there, it looked like you were planning to find your own way to the surface.”

“I'm good,” Cole said, feeling a little shaky. “I wasn't expecting so much power.”

“You squatted pretty deep before you jumped,” Trickster said. “The rig read that you really wanted some altitude.”

“The outer defenses have been breached in sector five,” Outlaw said. “Sectors one and three won't hold much longer.”

“Keep going, Trickster,” Googol said. “They need the basics.”

“Okay,” Trickster said. “When you walk or run with normal strides, the rig won't push hard like when you jump. It'll flow with you. But you'll find your top speed higher and your ability to change direction enhanced. You'll get the feel by experimenting. Now, just with your arms, throw some punches. Don't actually hit anything. Beat up the air.”

Cole punched and felt the exo rig moving with him, increasing the force of his blow. He looked over at Dalton who had both hands going really fast—leftrightleftrightleftright. Cole tried it and found he could do the same thing.

“See, Cole and Dalton?” Roulette asked. “Experiment with quickness. You can be faster. Your reaction time isn't quicker, but once you start moving, everything is sped up. Try karate moves. Have fun with it.”

Cole did imaginary blocks and turns and punches. He loved the feel of his new speed and the power behind his movements.

“Now the bad news,” Trickster said. “If you go punch a crystal wall right now as hard as you can, your finger bones will turn to dust. Punch somebody in the face, and you'll hurt them, but you'll also probably break your hand. Cole almost gave us a demonstration. If he hadn't used his arms against the ceiling when he jumped, he might have cracked his skull and broken his neck. We aren't invincible in these things. In some ways, we can do more harm to ourselves.”

Cole gaped at Trickster. A warning about that before he'd jumped would have been nice!

“As you improve, you'll learn all sorts of tricks,” Roulette said. “Jumping can be especially useful if you do it creatively.
For example, once you get the feel, you can leap back and forth between the walls of an alley to climb.”

“But you don't want to mess around with those kinds of techniques yet,” Trickster said. “Practice advanced moves in a controlled environment.”

Cole couldn't resist. His jump to the ceiling had given him a feel for how much the rig augmented his leaps, so aiming just above the lockers, he sprang to one side, kicked off the wall, flew across the room, kicked off the opposite wall, and landed just about where he had started.

“What?” Trickster laughed, clapping his hands. “Are you kidding me? That was
tidy
! No way was that luck!”

“I've done a lot of jumping lately,” Cole said, unable to suppress a smile. Using the rig felt a lot like leaping with a Jumping Sword. The jumps weren't as big, but he didn't have to point at his target and shout a command. It felt easier. More intuitive. “Secret will be good at it too.”

“I'm pleased you're getting a feel for the rigs,” Googol said. “Remember, once you're out in the city, the goal is to move about like a normal citizen. The rig should only come into play in an emergency.”

“Isn't this already an emergency?” Sidekick asked.

“You know what I mean,” Googol said. “We should go.”

He walked out of the locker room, back into the lab. The others followed, including the robots. On the far side of the lab, Googol opened a cleverly concealed sender. They all entered and it began to descend.

“I won't come with you,” Googol said. “My face is well known, so my presence could unnecessarily endanger you.
I will escape by a less comfortable route with Highwire and Outlaw. Trickster and Roulette will escort the rest of you to Forge's place. Sidekick will accompany you. Outlaw would draw immediate attention. Sidekick's commonplace appearance enables him to blend in throughout the city.”

“That's what the lady bots are looking for,” Sidekick said knowingly. “Commonplace.”

“Don't worry about his personality,” Googol said. “He knows how to act like a regular cleaning bot when necessary.”

Sidekick began to speak in a deliberately robotic monotone. “I am a ro-bot. I love to wipe coun-ters and scrub toi-lets. Take me to your lea-der.”

“Outlaw, could you bring the cart Sidekick was pulling?” Googol asked.

“Yes, mas-ter,” Outlaw said in a deeper robotic monotone.

“I suppose I set myself up for that one,” Googol said. “Secret, I'll leave you with communicators.” He held up four black rectangles about the size of dominoes. “Trickster will teach you how they work.”

The sender stopped and the doors opened. They stepped out into a close, domed tunnel covered in white tiles. It extended a great distance in opposite directions.

“Harmonic crystals are the key component to the best communicators,” Googol said. “The tech relies on the principle that harmonic crystals can share energy. For energy to be shared, and for communication to take place, the crystals must share the same harmonics. Think of it like a radio frequency, but with many more variations. Through tinkering, there are nearly infinite harmonics to choose from. The four
crystals in these communicators form a unique set, meaning these communicators can reach one another but nothing else. Don't overuse them, but if needed, you have them. I'll keep one. Trickster, Secret, and Roulette will hold the others. Obviously, don't let a communicator get captured. Roulette, show Secret how to destroy hers in case she's taken.”

“So right when she most needs it she won't have it?” Jace asked.

“She can get off a message first,” Googol said. “When destroyed, the communicator also sends a signal to alert the others. This is where we part ways. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Listen to Roulette and Trickster. I leave you in the care of two of our best.”

“Wait,” Cole said. “One question. I'm looking for friends who were taken from my world as slaves with me. I know some are in Zeropolis. Can you help me find them?”

“You're going to the right place,” Googol said. “Forge can help you with that. He can also connect you to a thruport so you can access the Internet in your world. But be warned—Outsiders are usually frustrated by the results.”

“We know,” Cole said. “Joe told us all about it.”

Googol raised a hand. “Until we meet again.”

“Which will probably be around the time of our next emergency,” Trickster grumbled.

Googol gave half a grin. “He might be on to me. Good luck!”

C
HAPTER

12

ENHANCED

“T
his is where we rejoin the city,” Trickster said. “We'll come out in a pedestrian walkway under Flick Street. We have hidden motion detectors in place. See that little light? When it turns green, the tunnel and stairways are empty.”

Cole looked at the red light. Then he peered down the dusty service tunnel that had brought them here.

Their underground adventure had started in clean, white corridors. As they passed through one-way checkpoints and secret doors, they began using abandoned subway tunnels, and the way became grimier. Roulette explained that Old Zeropolis had used subways much as the current Zeropolis used elevated monorails. Before the new Zeropolis existed, this area had been an outpost of the old city.

“No more hiding in tunnels for us,” Sidekick said. “Because we've run out of tunnels that will take us in the right direction. We're going topside. Sorry I'm not taller. Sorry I don't have eighteen weapons systems. I know I'm not much comfort compared to Outlaw.”

“You'll blend in out there,” Roulette said. “Right now, that's what we need.”

“I can climb stairs,” Sidekick said. “My forelegs shorten, the rear ones lengthen, and my base pivots. You'll see.”

“I happen to know you have a few other surprises if we need them,” Trickster said.

“Shhh,” Sidekick hissed. “They're not surprises if you tell everybody. I was managing expectations!”

The light turned green.

“Let's go,” Trickster said, opening the door and letting Roulette exit first. “Remember, this is all about staying cool.”

“My personality is about to downgrade to cleaning-bot levels,” Sidekick said. “You may not notice me. But I'll never be far.”

They all entered the pedestrian walkway. When Trickster closed the door, it disappeared, blending seamlessly with the wall. Cole stepped close and stared hard at where the door had been but could detect no evidence of it.

“It doesn't open from this side,” Trickster said. “Come on.” He started toward the stairway at one end of the pedestrian walkway. Sidekick scuttled off toward the stairs at the opposite end.

“I have orders to stay with Secret no matter what,” Trickster said quietly. “If things get choppy, the rest of you can scatter. Stay low. Big jumps are a last resort. If we get split up, meet at the north shore of Mariner Lake.”

“Nothing will happen,” Roulette clarified. “This is just a stroll through the city.”

Walking up the stairs, Cole enjoyed the feel of the exo
rig supporting his movements. If things went bad, at least he had a secret weapon.

Near the top of the stairs, Trickster glanced back at them. “You look like you're going to a funeral. Come on! Race you to the statue!”

He ran up the last few steps, and the others followed. Before them spread a wide plaza of dull orange concrete. Flowers and an occasional tree grew in patches of soil protected by low wire fences. In the center of the plaza stood a large silver statue of a man holding a wrench over his head.

As Cole started dashing across the plaza, he realized that Trickster wasn't going anywhere near full speed. He was going fast, but with the exo rig helping, it didn't feel like more than a comfortable jog. There were people in the plaza, but not so many that their running had to bother anybody.

Still in the lead, Trickster glanced back, laughing. Cole couldn't tell whether he was acting or actually goofing around. As the statue got nearer, Jace sped up, taking the lead. Cole resisted the urge to challenge him. They weren't really running at top speed. If they did, they might draw real attention. But of course Jace wanted to win regardless.

With a little burst at the end, Trickster tied Jace as they reached the statue. Laughing easily, Trickster gave Jace a playful shove, who responded by tapping Trickster on the shoulder with his fist.

“That run felt good,” Cole said to Dalton.

“Makes you want to test your limits,” his friend replied.

“Who is Terrance Styles?” Mira asked, reading the name at the base of the statue.

“The main engineer behind the magroads,” Roulette said. “Try not to care or you won't look local.”

“This way,” Trickster said, keeping his tone light. He trotted toward the far side of the plaza.

Following him, Cole fought the urge to jump. He wanted to know what the exo rig could do. What was the maximum height he could reach? What was the fastest he could run? If he trained, how good of a fighter could he become?

Off to one side of the plaza, Cole noticed a couple of armed patrolmen talking to a girl. After his first glance, he refused to let his eyes return to them.

The low sun would set within half an hour or so. Cole wondered how far they were from Forge, whoever that was. Would they still be roaming the city at night?

On the far side of the plaza, Trickster led them down to another pedestrian walkway under a road. After a man in the tunnel passed them and went up the stairs, Trickster motioned for them to huddle closer.

“Lots of Zeroes out,” he said softly.

“I saw two,” Cole said.

“Six,” Roulette corrected. “Two in the plaza, four beyond the plaza on the streets.”

“That was my count as well,” Trickster said. “Too many.”

“Might be a coincidence,” Roulette said.

“They just raided our base,” Trickster argued. “It's no coincidence. This isn't their first raid. They know we have ways to escape. They're combing the area.”

“Great,” Dalton said. He looked shaken.

Cole patted his back.

“Good thing we're just a bunch of kids horsing around,” Roulette said.

“That's the key, guys,” Trickster said. “The more on edge we should be, the more relaxed we need to become.”

“I know you were trying to loosen us up,” Jace said, “but is running the best idea if they're looking for people on the run?”

“Not a bad point,” Trickster said. “No more races. But make sure to joke and tease and relax. Right now, not looking guilty is our best defense.”

They went up the stairs at the far side of the street and turned left, following the sidewalk. Trickster took out a little rubber ball and bounced it as he walked.

Cole poked Dalton's arm. “I'm teasing you.”

Dalton swatted his hand away. “I'm bothered by your teasing.”

Cole poked him again. “I'm glad you're bothered. It encourages me.”

“You guys sound like low-grade bots,” Roulette complained.

“We're trying to follow instructions,” Cole said. “I don't tease Dalton much. We're out of practice.”

Jace flicked the back of Cole's ear. “Let me handle the teasing.”

Cole flushed. “Handle it again and see what happens.”

Jace grinned. “See? Now you're more believable.”

They rounded a corner. Up ahead maybe half a block, two patrolmen were coming toward them. Only a few people moved along the sidewalk between them.

“Somebody catch it,” Trickster said, tossing the bouncy ball over his shoulder.

Cole snatched at the tiny ball but missed. After it took a bounce, Jace backed up a couple of steps and grabbed it. Then he lobbed it up ahead of the group, gentle enough that Trickster caught up to it after one bounce.

Cole tried not to look at the patrolmen. And he tried not to obviously look away from them either. With a busy magroad on one side, and apartment buildings on the other, the only options were to duck into a random building, turn around, or walk right past the patrolmen. It looked like Trickster intended to stroll by them.

Trickster tossed the ball over his shoulder again. This time Cole caught it and bounced it up to him.

The patrolmen increased their pace. “A moment of your time,” one of the patrolmen said, trotting forward.

Trickster came to a stop. So did the rest of them. Cole tried to keep calm despite the convincing instinct that he should run for his life.

“We've had a couple of runaways reported,” the other patrolman said. “We need to check your ID cards.”

“Sure,” Trickster said, producing a card. “We're not runaways. Who are the kids?”

The patrolman scanned his ID with a small handheld device. “Winston Sykes,” the officer said. “Twelve years old. And Carla Rutherford. Eleven years old. Know either of them?”

Trickster shook his head. “They from around here?”

“This part of the city,” the patrolman replied.

Hanging back, Cole was close to total panic. Looking for two runaways would be a great cover if these patrolmen were really searching for Mira. But it would be foolish to run before he knew they were actually in trouble, in case the story was true.

The patrolman gave Trickster his card back and Roulette handed over hers. He scanned it and returned it. “Keep them coming,” the patrolman said.

Cole still had his ID card from Outpost 121. But wouldn't it be linked to Joe somehow and immediately get him in trouble? Cole supposed the answer partly depended on whether or not the police were actually searching for runaways.

“What if we left our IDs at home?” Jace asked.

“Then I might suspect you're who we're looking for,” the patrolman said. “Everyone knows the law. When out in public, you have to keep your ID card on you at all times. Do you live nearby?”

“Sort of far,” Jace said. “Across the city a ways.”

“If you lived close, we could go to your home,” the patrolman said. “Living far away and not carrying ID means a visit to the patrol station and then contacting your parents.”

“He has his ID,” Cole said, getting out his own. “He just doesn't trust patrolmen.”

“Don't you have pictures of the runaways?” Mira asked. “Can't you see we're not them?”

“IDs, please,” the patrolman said, his tone making it clear that he was done conversing.

Cole gave the patrolman his ID card, then held his breath as it was scanned. The patrolman handed it back. “Next.”

Jace shared his ID. After scanning the card, the patrolman looked up at Jace intently, then glanced at his partner and gave a nod.

The other patrolman took out a gray rectangle and lifted it to his mouth. Trickster jumped and kicked the rectangle, his leg a blur. The communicator went flying.

Jace crouched forward, grabbed the other patrolman by his ankles, then yanked both feet forward and up. The patrolman went down hard, his back slamming against the sidewalk while Jace held his ankles high.

With a silver tube in each hand, Roulette covered the patrolman on the ground and the one still standing in white foam from neck to boots. She hopped away as the upright patrolman swung at her, but it was the only move he managed to make before the cloud of white foam hardened. Cole shoved him over.

“Run,” Trickster said softly, taking off down the sidewalk.

Cole started at a normal sprint, but realized that Trickster was racing at maximum speed. Exhilarated and scared, Cole pushed his pace to the limits.

The rig responded as desired, whipping his legs faster than they could possibly move unassisted. Cole dashed down the sidewalk at almost twice the speed of his normal sprint, the air rushing over him as if he were cruising along on a bike. He found that if he stretched his strides too much, he went from a sprint to a series of long, one-footed hops. Running at full speed had to look suspiciously fast, but the hops would draw even more attention, since the gait raised him up unnaturally high and was completely inhuman.

Trickster paused at the next corner. “You grabbed the communicator?” he asked Roulette.

“Dalton got it,” she said.

Holding up the gray rectangle, Dalton shook it gently.

“Nice,” Trickster said. “We wouldn't be Crystal Keepers if we left an enemy's harmonic crystal behind.” He held out a hand, and Dalton passed it to him. “Slick move, Jace, dropping that Zero.”

“Maybe we should keep running,” Jace said.