“Shut up, kid,” Ken said in Vihn’s voice.

  The rest of the crew chuckled, and not even Vihn could bite back a grin.

  Ken said something else in Vihn’s voice. “Don’t talk to me, I’m brooding.”

  The rest of the crew held wide eyed bewilderment as they waited for Vihn’s response.

  The leader snarled at first, but then relented into a full smile and wringing of his head. “You got me, that’s good.”

  The crew erupted in cheers for Ken’s power.

  Evan sat next to him on one of Ad Astra’s benches. This was the first time he’d get to share this experience with so many other people, and it was fantastic. No one out to beat him, arrest him, or kill him. Evan saw it in Ken’s eyes too, that same sense of belonging as the other’s pat him on the back and said words of encouragement instead of death threats.

  Rowic, who had set the ship to autopilot, said, “Hey, try Ny.”

  Nyla looked at Rowic slowly, her tatted muscles flexing in response to the use of her name.

  “Oralé!” Ken yelled in Nyla’s voice.

  The crew laughed; Ny included.

  “Ok, try Cranston,” she said.

  The Southerner folded his arms and sat straight up.

  Ken looked around the air, as if trying to find something there. Cranston hadn’t talked to him much, so perhaps he was trying to remember what Cranston sounded like.

  Daniel swatted at Cranston, “Yo, say something Cran-man. Maybe he hasn’t heard your voice yet.”

  Cranston cleared his throat. “Alright-”

  “Alright. Howdy, howdy alright,” said Ken as if he were a radio dial tuning to the right frequency.

  Cranston bit his tongue.

  “Happy flying, Ace! Hah, hah!” Ken said, his mannerisms his own, but his voice a perfect recreation of Cranston’s timber.

  Daniel’s whole body rolled. “What the heck, bro?”

  Cranston chuckled.

  “How’d he hear that? He wasn’t even there when Cranston said that!” Daniel protested.

  Evan shrugged. “I might have told him about the conversation.”

  Vihn said, “He can say things in someone’s voice without hearing them say it?”

  Ken smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Yeah,” Evan added, “that’s how the Feds were able to put out those propaganda videos of me and my dad. He knew our voices better than anyone.”

  Rowic crooked his head. “Untraceable like and AI, but a lot of extra steps, if you ask me.”

  Vihn said, “When was the last time the Feds did something practical? Too bloated and self-absorbed to be humane.”

  “Odd question,” Daniel chimed in, “but what’s your drawback, Kenny?”

  Ken looked to Evan with confusion. They hadn’t heard of that until Evan had met the rebels. Evan tried to think back to every time Ken had used his powers, but he’d never shown a drawback in the way the others had when using their powers.

  “Maybe, it’s, you know…” Daniel pointed to his throat, and then his head and twirled his finger.

  “Come on, that’s not cool,” Rowic said.

  Daniel threw his hands up. “Yikes, sorry, my mistake!”

  Evan didn’t really know how to react to that, mostly caught off-guard by the idea. Ken had been like Ken since Evan had met him, so it couldn’t be his drawback… Though, he had to admit he didn’t really know how the science worked when it came down to it. So, what did he know? He observed Ken to see if the suggestion had hurt him.

  Ken simply said. “I’m happy. I like me.”

  Man, you’re the coolest, brother. Evan thought.

  Blink, who was sitting next to them, nodded. “Yeah, screw you, Daniel!” She threw a ration bar at him.

  The casual man blocked it with a karate chop and ran to the cockpit for cover.

  The crew laughed some more, and Evan was happy to see how they’d all supported his friend so eagerly.

  “Approaching destination.”

  Vihn cracked his neck. “Sounds like it’s time. Get your stuff together.”

  The team readied their gear. Ad Astra landed under the cover of trees. Evan, Ken, Blink, Twitch, Vihn, Nyla, and Cranston made their way out into the morning air, while Rowic and Daniel stayed behind to manage the ship in case they needed it.

  The mission team walked on until they came upon a boarding station for a Monolith tram route, very similar to the one back at Hazard Station and the Academy.

  They waited until they were the last to board, and then Vihn initiated a command on his wrist computer. The tram scanning system welcomed each of the team members onto the train without saying their names.

  It was strange to step foot on to a train again, let alone one headed for Dogma Isle. Hopefully Evan would make it to his destination this time instead of being kidnapped. Or perhaps he’d run into a rebel-rebel group made of lizard people who hated people-people. Somehow, that thought didn’t seem too crazy after everything he’d been through.

  The team all wore casual street clothes with their black mission gear hidden underneath. Evan, again, had to leave his jacket behind. Funny how now it’d become a recognizable part of who he was, and a bullseye if he were to be caught wearing it. He used to have to hide the part of him that was Afflicted, but now he had to hide the part of him that was the governor’s son.

  They spread out and sat in different parts of the tram. Evan was wary of sitting by himself or next to strangers based on prior experience. Despite what Vihn had advised, Evan joined Ken in the back of the cart; he wasn’t going to risk being separated again. Blink was the next closest teammate to them a couple of rows upward to the left. Twitch sat a few rows further than that. The only other teammate in their cart was Cranston at the front, partially into the aisle so that the rest of them could see him. That left Vihn and Nyla in the cart ahead of them.

  The capital came into focus as the tram sped along the coast of the New York ghetto. The ghetto was nothing particularly special. Its skyscrapers had all collapsed from war and was a city dedicated solely to the lower class and industrial workers who’d been given the impossible task of clearing out the rubble. A shanty town of millions. Out there, at the edge of New York’s discarded bones, was an island constructed of metal. It was made of towering, slanted walls that stretched out of the shimmering ocean, and skyscrapers that continued into the clouds. Dogma Isle had four main bridges that extended out from its structure toward the closest edge of the New York Bight, the body of water between the old city and the Atlantic.

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  Long rows of car traffic lined the roads that led to checkpoints.

  “We’re almost there,” Vihn said over the comm channel.

  “Bouncing.” Ken pointed to Evan’s leg.

  He stopped bouncing it, but the nervous energy diverted to Evan’s pocketed ID. Just the one, now. He grinned at the thought. He’d traded Ken’s ID for the real person after all.

  Clouds above parted in splotches, revealing the setting Sun. Shafts of light glistened over the gentle waves of the ocean. Several patrol boats circled the water. Giant blue banners scaled the city’s walls. Large banners hung down of the president uplifting the city on his back, like Atlas – with large words that read, “Fifteenth Annual Unification Day!”

  Unification Day, the official end to the class rebellions, and the start of the Purifier Initiative nearly a decade later. The Federation offered training to any citizen willing to kill Afflicted, though it was said that barely a single percent of applicants ever made it to purifier status.

  The tram ran over a bridge and snaked around the city walls until it slowed down to a stop in front of a mammoth-sized gate.

  “Attention passengers, please prepare identification to be scanned,” the train’s voice said.

  Evan readied his wrist computer and flashed it readily at the drone when it faced him. “Guy Faux, A-3417. Identity confirmed.”

  Then the drone continued to Ken and then left. Shortly after, the gate opened and allowed the tram to continue into the city. Evan had finally made it home… a little late. Though, at this point part of him hoped that he would never return.

  Evan caught Twitch’s eye. The twin brought his hands to his chest and took a deep breath. Evan mimicked him and received a thumbs up.

  The city was the same, yet different. It was like revisiting a dream. Immense structures, towering business complexes, and housing facilities that touched the atmosphere. Sky crafts toured the spaces in between the titanic buildings. Shipping freighters docked in square systems above hordes of shops and markets. Automated traffic lights shined across the streets. Vendors peddled rich meats, trinkets, and clothes to passing pedestrians. Several carts sported Federation propaganda posters that ranged from Get Vaccinated, to Think You Have What It Takes to Join the Purifiers? The air was stiff as sweating crowds stumbled across the sidewalks. Mist vented from heaters and exhaust ports in the ground, periodically breaking up the image.

  The street level was foreign to Evan. He usually passed over the city in an airship. All these people looked like ants from above, but now they were more like an ocean. The tram cart became a cage as it made its final stop.

  The crew left the tram into the sea of pedestrians.

  “We gotta get out of this crowd,” came Nyla’s voice.

  Vihn chopped the air above him, indicating an alleyway nearby.

  Evan re-grouped with the team as people streamed by.

  “Can you hear us, Rowic?” Vihn cupped his hands over his ears.

  “Yes, sir. Mild interference, but I read you.”

  Vihn dropped his hands and addressed the group. “Based on the Governor’s intel, we should find Shwood’s office in the upper district, shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. Don’t talk to anyone. If we run into Feds, scatter. Everyone should have rendezvous points mapped out in your computers.”

  “Tram, slums, sewers – that sound about right?” Cranston asked.

  Vihn nodded. “City rats. Let’s move.”

  The team continued to Brutus Brushwood’s office. The streets were filled with large screens of President Nero’s face giving speeches. There were also hundreds of banners and decorations for the Unification Day celebration. Holograms pranced from emitters on almost every building, most of them were of the Federation news, yet more were targeted propaganda of the same old anti-Afflicted, pro-state rhetoric Evan had seen a thousand times.

  Despite the floods of pedestrians, the Feds still managed to stick out with patrols of soldiers dotting every other street corner, along with their drones, fences, gun turrets, and tanks.

  A loop of low chants and hums waded above the streets from news barges. Evan hadn’t realized how constant the sound was here, an oppressive overture that sapped his thoughts and emotions. He was used to living high in the towers amongst the wealthy, where the buildings were heavily soundproofed.

  The team cut through the crowds, finally arriving at their destination. This building stood a dwarf in comparison to the others; it’s roof visible below the overcast sky. A giant rotating cube glistened upon its exterior.

  Who was this guy? Father had claimed Shwood to be a lifelong ally, but Evan wondered what kind of man he’d be. A man who had managed to keep Evan and Ken’s identity secret for most of their lives, and who managed to stay hidden himself.

  Red carpeting ran along the lobby floor, flanked by brass walls, and encased with mirrored ceiling. Marbled tiling outlined every corner of the expansive room, where heavily suited security weaved about. At the end of the lobby awaited a receptionist behind a black counter.

  Vihn glanced at the team before leading them forward to the receptionist. “We’re here for Brutus Brushwood. Uh, Shwood?” he said.

  The receptionist stared back blankly. “One moment.” He looked at his computer, then nodded as if someone had said something back to him. “Yes, they are here. Yes. Evangelos.”

  The use of his real name unsettled Evan. Either Brushwood was foolish, or too bold to worry about others hearing Evan’s name.

  He traded looks with the others, who responded with equally uncertain expressions.

  A brawny man in a suit and tie wheeled his way to the group. The receptionist addressed him. “This is Tony, Mr. Brushwood’s head of security. You’ll be escorted to your private rooms where you’ll wait to meet with him.”

  The man extended his arm in the direction of elevators. His hand had more hair on the back of it than his head. “If you’ll follow me.”

  Tony led them into the elevator. There were no buttons inside, just a display of floor numbers on a small screen that flickered 100 when the doors closed.

  Nyla whispered, “Sheesh, do we really trust this?”

  Evan didn’t know, but it was too late to turn back.

  “Don’t worry,” Blink whispered, “I’ll keep you safe.”

  Nyla didn’t seem too pleased with that comment.

  They all joined Tony in the elevator and waited for its ascent to finish.

  “Hey.” Vihn nudged Evan.

  “Huh?” he responded.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Sorry? What was Vihn talking about? Evan stewed in his un-comfortability.

  The old stranger continued, “I know you didn’t ask for any of this, and I was the one who brought you into it.”

  Evan contemplated what would be an appropriate response. All the others were with them. After everything that had happened so far, he didn’t know if he still held on to that anger he had had toward Vihn. It wasn’t like his life was great before the Blood Red Army. In the end, he’d lost nothing, and gained purpose. So, in a weird way, Vihn had helped him.

  The elevator opened before he could think of a response. In front of them was a small corridor where another assistant waited. “Hello, welcome to Monolith Corporation’s Obsidian branch. Please enjoy your stay, curtesy of Mr. Brushwood. Her hands glided across a suspended tablet.

  The doors closed, followed by a swoosh from behind the team. They turned around to a central living room that was a half-circle, with four doors spaced out along a curved wall. A giant screen was trenched in between the doors, which projected moving images of an island coast of rippling waters and swaying palm trees. At the center of the room was a circle of couches around a black table.

  “Please,” Tony waved his hand. “Mr. Brushwood will be here soon. If you need anything, simply ask.”

  Evan joined the others in a timid exit of the elevator into the quarters. As soon as they were off the elevator, it spun around with Tony still in it and was replaced by a white wall that matched the rest of the interior.

  No one in the group moved.

  “Think he’s watching us like some sort of creep?” Blink asked. She broke from the formation, investigating the corners of the room.

  Twitch’s eyes darted around at the ceiling.

  Shwood was probably watching them, waiting for them to use their powers or give away a secret, or something. Evan grew less sure of his father’s plan. He asked Vihn, “We should keep quiet, right?”

  Vihn nodded. “Hey, Ny. How are you… doing?”

  She regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Meaning?”

  “You know…” He flicked his fingers out.

  Nyla picked up a white cloth threaded with golden silk and blew her nose into it. “I’m fine.”

  The team eventually seated themselves amongst the couches after an unnerving amount of time had passed. Evan forgot what waiting felt like, almost unnatural to endure now.

  “Chill bro,” Blink told Twitch who signed impatiently. “We won’t have to wait too long.” But that turned out to be quite the understatement.

  It was half-past eight at night before they heard anything. They had wandered around the rooms, which were marble white with onyx black furniture and gold trimmings, each with a wall that was a window that could double as a simulated biome of preference. Nyla had grown the most impatient, which was typical for her, except her impatience was because her power was building up. She couldn’t release it, and it was clear that if she didn’t soon, she was going to start getting sick. But the team refused to use any of their powers until they knew who Shwood really was, certain his plan was to get footage of them using their powers with what they were sure were hidden cameras.

  Finally, a voice came over a speaker. “Mr. Brushwood is ready to see you now. Please join him in the dining hall.”

  The back wall spun around, revealing the elevator box again. The team loaded into it. The wall closed behind them, and then opened to a glass table that stretched down a wide dining hall, fit for thirty or more people. Bowls of salad and bread were set out in front of the chairs, of which were black twisting things that the team sat themselves into.

  Evan shifted around on the coarse material.

  “Is this supposed to be a chair or modern art?” Cranston asked, inspecting the thing.

  “That’s exactly what I keep asking my staff.” A voice came from a door to the left of the table. It was a man; his suit was black with gold trims. He brushed his hair back, and a wide grin split across his lips. “Pardon me. Ehem. I’ve lost track of time I suppose. Call me, Shwood.”

  Except that this man couldn’t be Brutus Brushwood, because the man standing there was Charlie Crain, the Governor’s partner who’d taken over Monolith Industries. The man who betrayed them.

  UPDATE: Milestone 2 Complete! Future milestones ahead, thank you all for the support!

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