Peter unrolled his pack. The contents fell out in a pile. Small things he could steal.

  Peter had been careful. Using the virtual marketplace was pointless. It all went through the Bureau.

  Rush thought it was junk. The pain in her arm was annoying. She tried to get excited.

  This kind of thing was right up her alley. Besides, she didn’t think Peter’s plan would work.

  She wasn’t running away exactly. She just knew: They would get caught. That would count as trying.

  She was missing Peter’s explanation.

  “-and then I launch myself. Clever right? The timing is hard but.”

  Rush forced a smile. Peter droned on. She wouldn’t have come this far if she didn’t want to be here. Right?

  The pair were positioned beneath the Bureau of Prophecy, on one of thousands of maintenance catwalks. They were miles away from the restricted area.

  They were following a document Peter had. He said he found it while he was gear hunting. Rush knew what that meant.

  It was a flight manifest that said a private ship for four would be leaving this afternoon. The reason was redacted.

  Peter assured her: the Bureau blacked things out for all sorts of reasons. It didn’t mean they should expect resistance.

  Both felt it was too close; neither was willing to admit it.

  Peter paused to draw a breath.

  “Do you think it’s enough?”

  Rush looked at the mess laid out carefully in front of her. She wasn’t sure what Peter thought he would do with light bulbs, a box of nails, and duct tape.

  She told him it was enough anyway. She didn’t want to encourage his new look.

  Peter had swapped his school uniform for something more practical. Combat padding stolen from the gym sat above his performance suit. It kept him dry, but Peter hated the way it tightly gripped his thighs and ankles.

  The padding didn’t fit much better. He had screwed in hull plating where he could. He felt like a hermit crab in a turtle shell.

  A green cloak fell over his shoulders. His dad’s old canvas trench coat from business days past, cut up and sprayed painted.

  He spotted it with green and brown camouflage. He was headed to the mainland after all. The effect surprised him.

  In the sun he looked like a failed action figure. But in the shadows, it bought him an extra second before he would be spotted.

  Rush wore nothing but her performance suit and a drawstring bag around her waist. Peter wrapped up his gear and stored it in his pack. It swung easily from his chest to his back.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know what to get you. This was all I could think of.”

  He handed her his gift. It was a voice lift.

  A small square with a microphone and powerful micro-speaker.

  Teachers used them to silence students. It replayed their words back to them as they spoke to them in a highly focused stream. It was almost impossible to ignore.

  Rush put it in her pocket. It was more work to tell Peter she didn’t care than it was to accept the gift.

  “Thanks.”

  Silence. If they went further now, they would be doing this.

  The airfield for the Bureau was only a block below them. Having walked through the maintenance catwalks all the way from Oracle, they doubted this entrance would be secured.

  It meant coming down from above, but Peter reasoned security would be easier to spot that way.

  Peter tapped his heels together.

  “Come on, let’s go.”

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  Rush saw the light first. The way it swung back and forth told her it was a headlamp.

  She held her arm out, stopping Peter. She felt the weight press against her and disappear. Peter was already behind a pipe - transformed and hidden.

  She blinked. What did he expect her to do?

  The light was getting closer. She tried to squeeze herself between some machinery. This part of the Nimbus was a maze of copper and steel.

  Her arm bulged in its sling. It stuck out from her hiding place.

  The pain kicked past the drugs. Rush winced.

  A voice called out from the light. It was almost here.

  “Huh, somebody there? Are you stuck? You shouldn’t be here.”

  Rush heard a pair of boots against the catwalk. Rusty screws screaming at her to hide.

  She looked down at her arm. She hated how it looked wrapped in fabric. The sling was always in her way.

  She kept her eyes on it and pulled.

  There was no pain, just a pop. Her arm snapped back into her hiding place.

  Rush wasn’t a doctor. If she was, she would have known she needed to reset her arm before she looked away. The damage was internal, she didn’t feel it until she blinked.

  Thunk

  She jerked her arm back elbowing the machinery above her. Steam leaked out.

  The sensation was awful, like being electrocuted from the inside out.

  Peter was at her feet. Still a pineapple. Hidden in plain sight. She stuffed him in her bag.

  Who thought she would ever be jealous of a power like that?

  It was time to do things her way. She grunted.

  “Hey, get over here. I’m stuck.”

  It wasn’t a performance. She just said the words. It didn’t matter what she said, as long as they heard it.

  ***

  Stockton looked at the map on his phone. Different colored dots flashed on a grid.

  He felt bad about activating the tracking program, but he had no choice. Within a week, Rush got suspended, beaten up by the principal, and was involved in a disaster.

  He wiped his fingers on a special towel kept on his desk. Micro-fibers sucked the sweat off. He had trouble using the touchscreen otherwise.

  The app told him what he already knew. He chewed on a sodium pill. The bitter taste helped him stay sharp.

  Rush was in danger, again.

  If lectures wouldn’t work, the process would. The Bureau had rules for dealing with intruders.

  He dispatched another agent. This time a Prophesized.

  War was close. The Horsemen were deploying in an hour, so she was near the sky harbor.

  Normally he would hesitate, but she would hold back for Rush. Right?

  He pushed his chair away from the desk. He left his office and went to the lending office to requisition a cart, just in case.

  ***

  Security Bureaucrat Collins wished they had never left the Squall. There were no powers or prophets there. Training was harsh, but it was predictable.

  They didn’t even have time to feel surprised as Rush exploded on them.

  When they woke up, hours later, they were convinced they had been hit by a semi.

  ***

  Rush crashed through her hiding place, careful to keep the bag with Peter in view. Sharp bits of metal raked her back. She felt her suit wick away the blood.

  Good, it wasn’t deep.

  In front of her steel and security crumpled. She charged down the hallway. It wasn’t subtle. Alarms were beginning to sound.

  The real threats would be on their way any minute now.

  Still, she had a head start. Unless they had already left, she should beat them to the sky harbor.

  She gave up on following the hallway. Wherever she found a wall without a foundation she took a shortcut.

  Her arm was starting to hurt like hell. She couldn’t look at it every time she took a step.

  In training the walls were uniform. Spaced four feet apart, made of concrete. About two inches thick.

  She was getting battered running through the bowels of the Nimbus. Nothing was consistent.

  Pipes she hadn’t accounted for smacked her shins. Rubble pelted her shoulders.

  The sky-harbor was close. Only a few more rooms to go.

  Shit- was this going to work? They should’ve caught her by now. She was getting excited again. Like she did before the injury.

  Maybe Peter’s idea wasn’t impossible after all.

  She was gaining pace now, taking on rooms like reps. Offices, utility spaces, a strange lack of break rooms.

  An agent tossed a flash grenade. A squad of four Bureaucrats put on cheap-looking sunglasses. They carried briefcases and batons.

  She kicked the explosive in front of her. She wanted it in front while she approached.

  Bang

  The ‘Crats were flashing hand signs to each other like it mattered. The sunglasses filtered out the light. Surgically installed ear plugs inflated as they entered combat.

  Rush sprinted up to the nearest one. They took a step back.

  “Hah, make it easier next time.” She joked.

  She was watching her injured arm worried about another blow. The baton caught her rib cage on the other side.

  She pressed into the pain. If it was bothering her, she should choose to enjoy it instead.

  She spied a belt of flash bangs across the man’s chest. She dove towards him.

  “Let’s go! Learn to love it big boy!”

  She gave him a one-arm bear hug, pinning him to the wall.

  BANG!

  All four of the soldiers collapsed. Rush was starting to enjoy herself.

  With her prophecy why couldn’t they track her down? She was making the Bureau look like level one slimes. She was ready for the boss.

  Rush broke through the wall leading to the sky harbor. It clung to the bottom of the massive ship like a baby.

  Rush saw airships. The sky harbor was a wide hallway with docking berths on either side. There were more than a hundred in total.

  Peter was right. Security was relaxed here.

  Nobody ever tried so getting off the Nimbus wasn’t impossible. If she could just find the ship mentioned in the manifest.

  It was there, at the far end, being loaded into a berth. She recognized the logo.

  Four horses in a circle, the riders spearing the person in front of them. Like a snake eating its tail.

  She ran across the deck. This was bad news. Who would she have to deal with? Famine? Death?

  It wasn’t Conquest, he would be here already. As long as it wasn’t. -

  “Leap of Hercules!”

  War leaped from the top of the air tower. She had rehearsed this in her head a hundred times.

  Rush shattered. She knew that voice. She knew that figure, framed by the sun. A confident muscular woman with cropped pink hair.

  Peter was fruit in the bag at her hip. She wasn’t sure he could help anyways.

  They were going to be caught after all.