The Softwire: Betrayal on Orbis 2 (4 page)

“Get out of my way,” someone said, and shoved me aside. The alien, who looked like a Solinn, with one of their distinctive fleshy bubbles perched upon her head, stomped toward the little creature. Without warning she clipped the knudnik across the back of his head, knocking him to the floor.

“What did I tell you?” the Guarantor screamed, but the knudnik did not answer. Instead, he quietly gathered up the contents of his sack and scampered past me. The look of love in his eyes was gone.

The Solinn followed but stopped in front of me, focusing on my skin, the vest that told everyone I was a slave.

“Where is your Guarantor?” she demanded.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I replied.

“What?”

“Hit him. You didn’t have to hit him.”

The Solinn took a step back, almost as if I had insulted her. I don’t think she knew what to do at first, but finally she spoke up. “How dare you tell a Citizen what to do, you ungrateful waste of space. Security!”

“Don’t bother,” I said, ducking around her.

“Security!” she yelled once more, but I was already back with my sister and Theodore.

“What’s her problem?” Theodore said.

“Knudniks,” I said. “What else.”

“Is that all?” Theodore said.

“Yeah, well, Weegin’s problem isn’t just knudniks — it’s everyone on the ring,” Max said, nodding toward our Guarantor.

I turned to see Weegin shove his way through a small line of Citizens waiting at an array of O-dats.

“Get out of my way!” he snapped at any alien who protested.

When he reached the O-dats, he began pounding his leathery fingers on all of the angled screens.

“This is outrageous!” Weegin screamed, and slammed both his fists on the nearest O-dat.

The screen sparked, and two security drones flew in and forced Weegin away from the machine. Weegin took a swing at one robot, knocking it into the other.

“Weegin, what are you doing?” I said, running up to him.

Just then, a 3-D hologram of a pudgy alien wearing an official-looking uniform appeared in front of Weegin and me. Its green headpiece was adorned with the Orbis insignia — four rings surrounding a glowing star.

“Your account lacks sufficient chits for passage to Orbis 2,” the hologram droned. “This delinquent behavior is unacceptable. You will be charged for the damage you have done according to Keeper decree number 1436711 . . .”

“The damage
I
have done!” Weegin screamed, almost lifting himself off the ground. “You fools have destroyed everything I ever owned. I charge
you
for the damage.”

“If you continue with this behavior, I will be forced to confine you and your property for a hearing at the Center for Impartial Judgment and Fair Dealing,” the hologram warned him.

Weegin scurried around to the back of the O-dats, but the hologram stayed close behind. Weegin grabbed one of the screens and tried to pry it from its metal base. If he got it loose, I was sure he was going to throw it at the official.

“Do something, JT,” Max said.

“Me?”

“Yes. Anything.”

Quickly, I searched the atrium and noticed a group of aliens waiting by another bank of O-dats on the far side of the room. I assumed that they were waiting to get tickets too, so I darted toward them. I weaved through the thick crowd, skipping around a slow-moving alien only to plow right into another.

“Hey, watch it, knudnik!” the Trefaldoor shouted as I pushed off her enormous form. I kept on running and shoved my way to the front of the line.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency,” I said to the alien protesting behind me. I pushed into the O-dat’s computer chip, feeling the rush of energy pass through my mind as it slipped into the machine. I sidestepped the alphanumeric security algorithm and quickly processed twenty-two one-way tickets to Orbis 2.

I rushed back to Weegin, who was still trying to pry the O-dat loose. “Here,” I said, and held out the tickets. “Compliments of the Keepers.”

“Where did you get these?” he asked, abandoning the demolition of the O-dat to take the tickets from me.

I couldn’t believe it. I had just lied
and
stolen — for Weegin, of all aliens.

“Do you really care?” I said.

Weegin stared at the small transparent tickets. A single yellow tear rolled down his crusty face and puddled in a crevice.

“We could have done great things, you and I,” Weegin muttered. He sighed, and his shoulders drooped even farther.

Yeah, but we didn’t,
I thought. “Come on, let’s go,” I said. “I’ve never seen Orbis 2.”

By the time we filed onto the space barge to Orbis 2 and found a section with empty seats, I was exhausted, anxious, and excited all at the same time. This was my first trip off the ring since arriving on Orbis, and the thought of being reassigned by the Keepers made it almost overwhelming. My only hope was that my new job would be something exciting. I assured myself that anything would be more interesting than the last few phases I’d spent at Weegin’s.

I sat down on the soft, curved lounger that lined both sides of the ship. Ketheria sat against the window that ran the length of our compartment. She and Max shared a snack given to them by the servant drones that ran back and forth above our heads.

“This is really nice,” Theodore whispered.

“I was unaware they were letting workers sit in a Citizens’ cabin,” said a tall, regal alien, who was tethered to the ship by a thick yellow cable attached to his neural implant.

I didn’t know what to do. Did I purchase the wrong class of tickets? I glanced at Theodore, but he just shrugged.

I started to say, “I’m sorry . . .”

But the alien held up his hand and said, “Relax, I’ve never met a human before.” His voice was warm, not authoritative at all. “I’m Captain Tapp.”

“Hello,” I replied. “My name is Johnny Turnbull. This is my sister Ketheria, and these are my friends Max and Theodore.”

“Are you the Softwire we have heard so much about?” the captain asked.

I stared at my feet. I didn’t like being recognized as the Softwire, especially with the other kids watching.

“Do not be ashamed. You should be proud to be different. It will come in handy someday,” Captain Tapp said. I felt my face grow hot. He was only making it worse. “I’m sure it already has. In fact you can stay right where you are. My guests. Enjoy your trip.”

The captain slid away to greet more of his passengers. I didn’t know if I could agree with him, though. The only thing my ability seemed to do for me was to get me into trouble or cause unwanted attention.
At least we don’t have to move,
I thought. I did not want to imagine where they let the knudniks sit.

The trip between the rings lasted a whole spoke. Weegin made everyone wait until the barge was emptied before exiting with us in tow. When I stepped into the spaceport, I immediately noticed its stark contrast to the spaceport we had just left on Orbis 1. There were no towering windows to walk under, no crystals hanging from the ceiling. Instead I saw thick, blackened support beams and dim plasma lights; the soft notes of musical instruments had been replaced by the clattering of machinery.

“What’s that smell?” Max said, sniffing the air.

“It’s better than the radiation gel,” I reminded her.

“Anything is better than that,” Theodore added.

Head down and Nugget at his side, Weegin charged forward, and I hurried to keep up.

As she rushed along, Max stepped around a grimy alien and onto an automated roadway that kept branching off in different directions. A very battered but determined cart-bot, the biggest I’d ever seen, was headed straight for her. It showed no intention of stopping.

“Watch out, Max!” I shouted.

Max saw the cart-bot and jumped off the road. “Thanks,” she said.

The hulk of metal slipped past us with its load of . . . Actually, I couldn’t tell what it was carrying, but it looked very heavy.

“I wonder if it would have stopped,” I said to Max as we watched the bot get swallowed by the crowds.

A group of burly aliens I had seen on the barge greeted friends and shared containers filled with frothy, colored liquids. I couldn’t help but notice that they shouted at each other a lot. They were larger, beefier,
stronger
-looking Citizens, built for manual labor, although they had probably never lifted a finger in their lives. They did, however, look prepared for a much tougher existence, and it made me wonder what kind of job was waiting for us here.

Weegin marched us through a collection of busy little trading chambers stacked one on top of the other. The crowds thinned as we followed him to the spaceway. We boarded, took our seats, and let the gravity cushions settle over us. As we headed out of the spaceport, Theodore asked, “JT, you visited the Keepers once, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, in Magna. Well, actually underneath Magna,” I said.

“But Magna is back on Orbis 1. Why did we go to Orbis 2 if Weegin has to take us back to the Keepers?”

He was right. My mind raced to the screen scroll I had read back at Weegin’s. Where did it tell Weegin to take us? I just assumed it was Orbis 2 because we were supposed to spend one rotation on each ring. But Weegin was being forced to give us up now. Did that make things different? Were we supposed to go to Magna?

“There have to be Keepers on Orbis 2,” I told him. “I mean, they control all the rings, not just Orbis 1. I’m sure they have a city like Magna on Orbis 2. They have to.”

“That’s what I thought,” Theodore said, and looked out the window at the moons.

I leaned toward Weegin. “Weegin, where
are
we going?” I whispered.

“It’s not my choice,” he mumbled, staring out the window also.

Max was eavesdropping. “Weegin, what do you mean it’s not
your
choice?” she said.

“I have nothing left.”

“It’s not our fault you have nothing,” Switzer interrupted. “You should let us go, then!”

I shook my head over Switzer’s stupid remark. Why did he always do that? Weegin looked at him and wouldn’t talk to anyone anymore. He just stared out into space. There
must
be Keepers on Orbis 2, I told myself — more than once.

When the spaceway came to a stop and the gravity cushion eased off, Weegin was the first one out of his seat. We followed our Guarantor off the shuttle and into a deserted spaceway station. A row of broken plasma lights buzzed on and off, flashing long shadows against the dingy tiled walls. I noticed a sign on the wall that read CORE CITY. Then two cloaked figures broke my line of sight. I thought — actually I hoped — they were Keepers, but when I tried to make out who they were, the figures only slipped into a darker corner.

“It smells like fish,” Max whispered.

“Doesn’t it remind you of something?” Theodore said.

I looked at him. I knew what he meant. Were there Neewalkers at this station?

“There are no Neewalkers here,” Ketheria said. Max and I both looked at her.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Max said, shivering.

“Let’s hope this isn’t home,” I said.

Ketheria said, “It’s not.”

I stared at my sister. “Enough already. Now you’re creeping me out.”

Ketheria shrugged as Nugget took her hand. The unfamiliar territory seemed to humble him. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was scared. I’m sure he wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

“Get in a line,” Weegin ordered everyone.

“What for?” Switzer said. Weegin bared his fangs, and Switzer fell into place.

“Hold out your left hand,” Weegin demanded.

The alien walked down the line handing each of us a tiny, clear-blue crystal. Max examined hers closely.

“Keep your left hand up. Keep the crystal in your hand,” he barked.

Switzer begrudgingly stuck his fist out. We all stood there, holding the crystals up while Weegin shoved his gnarled fingers into his mouth.

“Ewww,” a girl named Grace said.

Weegin dug another blue crystal out of his mouth, exposing his rotten, yellowed fangs again. He held the saliva-drenched stone up to admire it. Max looked at me. I just shrugged. I’d never seen Weegin store crystals in his mouth before.

“Keep quiet! Hands up!” Weegin snapped, placing the crystal on his hip. He pushed the crystal into his skin and said, “Creok!”

Immediately my palm warmed and a crackling beam of pale blue light shot through my left hand. I tried to release the crystal, but my fingers were frozen in the glow. I looked at the other kids trying to shake off the light, but the beam ran through everyone’s hand, connecting all of us together. The end of the light beam roped around Weegin’s waist where he had pushed the crystal into his skin, embedding it in his hip. Then Weegin turned and marched into the darkened spaceway station. I felt a tug on my left arm, and I still could not release the crystal from my hand. I was forced to follow in line, linked to the next person by the mysterious glowing rope.

“Weegin, I think we can stay together on our own,” Max complained. “This is not necessary.”

“Did you ever think we might not want to go where he’s taking us?” Switzer said.

I did, but Weegin had orders from the Keepers. No one went against an order from the Keepers; it was law.