When Copper Suns Fall (3 page)

“Nice. Wish I could do that this year,” he
said.

“I know. Then we wouldn’t have to watch Mrs.
Gentry’s 200-year-old volcano videos,” Lucia said.

Father didn’t just embarrass Micah and me
with home instruction without a good reason. Even though at times,
I thought he was a bit paranoid. Blackouts were the cause. I’d had
them since my first girly memories. The condition confused the
doctors and knocked me flat on the face without a warning
sometimes. They made life feel weird and lonely for me because
Micah never had them. Although I wasn’t an expert on kooky mind
ailments, I’d learned three things usually triggered them: closed
in spaces, stress, and water.

I hadn’t had a spell in almost a year. Not
one bit of wooziness until earlier today at work. Right about the
time I spotted the girl who lost her dog.

“We’ll walk with you, if you want. I know how
much you hate the park. You shouldn’t go there all by yourself,”
Lucia said. She studied my face, making me feel uneasy. And Steve
kept giving me the funny-eyed look guys always made when they
wanted to act cool and get your attention. Did my hidden abilities
come attached to an arrogance magnet?

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, not
wanting her to know why I needed to do this on my own. I mean, I
couldn’t very well say: “Great! We can go and find evidence of
Tainted activity together.”

“I’m probably going to hang out here. You
know, stay outside the park,” I said and squeezed my left fist.

She gave me a hard look. Healers sensed a lie
the way bees smelled fresh flowers. And Lucia was moved to the top
of her class only one week after her classification ceremony.

“Suit yourself. We’re heading up to the
Cradleshack later on. Do you and Jalen want to come?” Lucia smiled
hard, laced an arm through Steve’s, and spoke too fast. She really
meant: “I’m only asking to be polite, but I hope you get lost.”

Like everybody else in Castle Hayne, her
accent created a rolling sound, combining old southern dialect with
new, exotic sounding syllables. Father said this happened because
the Tribunal had transported people to Castle Hayne from many other
regions in Corunum. Lucia made the accent sound gorgeous, and I
made it sound like a mistake.

“We’ll catch you guys up there,” I said.

“Better hurry, or you’ll miss the Falling
Lights,” Lucia said and strolled off toward the Cradleshack. Behind
her back, Steve blew an imaginary kiss at me. What would he do if I
backhanded his face for being rude?

I turned away from the gates and Steve,
glanced up and down the side alleys for Jalen. He promised to meet
me at the Market before curfew. What was I thinking? He never did
anything on time.

If I had to stand around waiting, then I
intended to start working on my promise to Micah. I only had three
weeks before his removal.

It was time to investigate Gargoyle Park, the
one aspect of an old life the city’s leaders worked to preserve. In
the historical days, the park brought joy to people. I didn’t share
that enthusiasm. If I didn’t go back to try and remember something
about his fall, anything to stop Van Meter’s plan, then I’d never
forgive myself.

The answer to what happened to Micah was
somewhere in that park. I knew it, felt it. So I silenced the doubt
flying like a bug inside my chest as I walked back to the entrance
gates.

Over by the souvenir shops where I’d been
standing, border guards shoved a couple of kids who were caught
trampling through a mass of lavender tangled in dead grasses. Two
older guys walked about twenty feet behind them. Soldiers called
the SOCS, short for the Sons of Created Shade.

They didn’t speak, smile, or eat for all I
knew.

Easily spotted by pasty skin highlighted by
dark uniforms, the SOCS could taser or curse you, depending on
their mood of the moment. They made the border guards look like the
spoiled paper chasers we all knew them to be.

Dressed in black skin-suits, helmets, and
dark glasses, two other SOCS shoved a couple of rowdy men down to
the ground, and pushed tasers into their backs.

One man flipped over and swung at the soldier
standing above him. I knew what came next as festivalgoers steered
clear of the group. The tasered men thrashing about as an insane
amount of voltage tore through their bodies both entranced and
horrified me. Their arms flailed and hit the ground with so much
force I was sure their arms and legs would break.

A small crowd gathered to watch. The SOCS did
not mind demonstrating what happened to people who thought they
could defy the Tribunal, our all-seeing rulers. They tasered the
men into unconsciousness and ordered the border guards to load the
bodies into black airvans.

Something about the way Castle Hayne’s
deadliest protectors moved—pauses between each step—unnerved me,
jerking me back to the time when Micah had fallen.

A fuzzy memory of boots stomping on gravel as
soldiers headed toward me surged into my mind. Rain drizzled from a
lead-colored sky. Then, there was a scream. It ripped through me as
if trying to carve a path into my soul. It was Micah’s scream
blending with a harsh sound like a squawk from a bird.

The thunder wasn’t real, either. It was a
growl as if a lion had entered the park. All this happened just
before I fainted. If there were ever a time I regretted doing
something I couldn’t change, then passing out when my brother fell
was that thing.

Why was I so weak that day? I missed catching
a glimpse of something that could probably have helped him.

“Problem, nosey girl?” A border guard’s voice
ripped me out of the memory and back to reality. I hadn’t noticed
him approaching me.

I shook my head and willed my shaking hands
to steady as the memory faded. “No. I—I’m headed in there,” I said,
pointing at the entrance gates.

The crowd around me had thinned, and people
were heading back to the festivities. He scoffed and walked off. I
guess my humble act made him happy. Swinging at stupid orderlies
was one thing, but even I knew when to back off.

A breeze stirred. Loose hairs tickled my
face. The border guards walked off into an alley beside the
algae-covered bakeries and disappeared, laughter fading behind
them. Another group of SOCS trudged off into a section beside the
wire shops.

So I was about to break my promise, the one
where I said I’d never set foot on the unholy grounds of Gargoyle
Park again. Jalen would be able to find me in a crowd if I didn’t
stray too far away. He said my flowery-scented lotion made it easy
for any Tracker to find me, and that was somewhat of a bad thing.
Not all Trackers worked for good guys like Sam Wiggins. I walked
through the entrance gates creaking from years of exposure to rain,
fog, and chemical waste.

Father said a nuclear bomb started the Tidal
Years fifty-five years ago. And what about the girl who kept
breaking promises to herself?

Well, it probably got her first.

Chapter Three – Metal Feathers

I stood among the rides. The amusement park
was alive with happy energy, totally opposite of the way I
felt.

Pastry scents filled the air. Carnival music
pulled me into its tribal beat. A kaleidoscope of lights blended
together, filling my eyes with wonder, intrigue, memories. Even the
people screaming on the coasters stirred the curiosity in me. The
whole scene was like a hypnotist’s ball, but with hundreds of
people instead of just one person doing the hypnotizing.

White, orange, and gold lights flashed in my
eyes. Carnival goers laughed, played games, and ate soy cakes
covered in sugary powder. They acted as if the soot spread across
the shores behind the park grounds weren’t there. As if people in
the Dim Cities had full stomachs. As if no robotic crows stared
from trees growing along a fifty-foot fence capped with barbed
wire, and like no boy with red hair ever existed.

Heading toward the simulator, I considered
throwing stones at the crowbots watching me with their glowing fake
eyes. Sometimes they waited in trees, on top of houses, and in our
rooms if we left a window open. Some real. Some robotic. Some
confused. The automatons—fancy word for expensive robot—flocked
into the cities, hanging around late into the night, these spies of
the Tribunal. I’d sell the rest of my moppy mane to the hair bank
for the chance to see or even hear a real seagull.

“Didn’t your beaky little mothers teach you
that gawking at people is rude?” I considered sticking out my
tongue, but decided I would look foolish. Somebody might think I
was infected and have me sent away.

“SOCS, squeaky robots, crazy doctors, too
much for me,” I said.

Forty-five minutes passed. I stood in the
very back of the park and stared at the Gravity Drop until my eyes
dried out.

The ride was basically an airplane saved from
the historical days. Three-person carts attached to a line lifted
the riders up along the plane’s empty cabin. At the top, the carts
were released onto a track attached to its nose. The screaming
riders zipped 120 mph down the track at a 90-degree angle.

Still, no new memories, and no Jalen. Only
the same recurring image of Micah standing up in his cart after it
reached the top, waving to me just before he fell and I blacked
out.

Anxious to remember something, anything, I
turned to watch the crowd. A breeze tickled my neck. It wasn’t just
wind causing it, though.

I spun around and scanned the trees behind
me. About thirty feet away from me, a boy stood between two of the
oaks with branches covered by crowbots. Two round lumps were
silhouetted behind him. They looked like large rocks towering above
his head. How long had he been standing there? And why did he stand
in the shadows, watching as if he were a creep?

“It’s pretty rude to stare,” I said. He
didn’t move or answer me. Behind him, the burly black things lifted
into the air. Stupid Illusionist. Didn’t he have better things to
do?

“Okay, now. That’s creepy. Ooh, I’m scared,”
I said and shook my body, humoring him. “Pretty good trick,
though.”

Lights from the rides behind me flashed
across his face, across the oaks—a kaleidoscope of bark, boy,
crowbots, and black lumps. They reminded me of wings more than
anything. He leaned on the tree, cocked his head to the side, and
crossed his arms. Was he mocking me?

A giggly couple shuffled between us. I took a
step closer to him. Then he turned and strolled off down the hill
and toward the wall behind the trees sitting along the back of the
park. Did he intend to walk through the wire? There was no other
way to get over or around the wall surrounding our city.

Something cold touched my arms. I spun
around. Jalen laughed as he balanced two ice cones. I controlled an
impulse to beat on him for scaring me.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. Your
favorite, cherry funnel ice. They’re melting, so be careful,” he
said. I took the cone, but was still distracted by the boy’s
ability to fake what looked a lot like wings. Illusionists didn’t
usually wander around playing silly tricks on people, particularly
during costing week.

“You know what’s funny? I had the hardest
time finding your heat profile in this crowd. And you hid your
scent better than a Thoughtmaster, Chela the Fair.” I smirked at
his nickname for me as he pocketed his tracking device.

Chela the Fair made me think of slender
princesses with sand-colored hair gliding past the feet. My inked
out moppy hair with the copper streaks didn’t come close.

I got my mismatched name the first time Jalen
met me. That day, I was in Cornice’s gardens, practicing a parry on
a dummy set up by Father. Jalen, a fellow fencing-obsessed person
like me, hid in the bushes and watched me until I confronted him.
Red faced from being caught, he challenged me to a duel. Happy to
be taking a stab at something other than a silent dummy, I
accepted. I became the fair maiden who’d pluck your eyebrows with a
blade, and he turned into my dark knight.

“Wiggins tried to get me to take three shifts
next week,” Jalen said. “Wanna know what I think is going on? I
think he plans to hire you to take my place.” He covered his mouth
to hide a grin.

“Okay, right. I honestly don’t see how you
handle those every day,” I said.

I studied the oaks, listened to the waves
beating hidden shores, waited to hear the boy behind the trees
scream. I mean, at some point the idiot will figure out he can’t
walk through the wire. Plus, the wall running behind the amusement
park was really a tall chain-link fence laced with metal mache
charged by electricity. I guess the engineers wanted to hide the
black sands from the coaster riders. Or maybe they didn’t want them
to spot idiots hanging out in banned areas.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jalen asked.

I made myself focus on him. “Yeah, sure. Then
again, not really. I saw Micah today,” I said.

“Any change?”

“Not much. Well, maybe a little. His hand
moved. Or rather, his hand twitched. It wasn’t anything serious
enough to be breaking out the ceremonial gear over. They want to
remove him from the system,” I said, almost choking on the
words.

“Aw, Chela, I’m sorry to hear that,” Jalen
said, wrapping his arms around me.

I wanted to tell him about what Dr. Van Meter
said. How he wanted to vesselize Micah, and why I thought he wanted
to do it. But Father had made it clear. No one could ever know what
I was. Hiding supernatural abilities among humans with genes
enhanced by radiation were easy. Dealing with the guilt of keeping
a secret from the people you’d sell a body part to protect was the
terrible part.

I wish he’d never said anything a year ago.
I’d been happily unaware of the reasons behind my oddness. I
already had to deal with Micah being gone. Why did Father put the
burden of dealing with more pressure on me?