Bryn

“You hear that?” Greyson ducks beneath cables with an ease that has me envious. I listen. The normal everyday grumble of the space station has a sharp edge to it.

“Lenora works quickly,” I reply.

She’s a performer. It’s what she does, Zipper says, stretching out across Greyson’s shoulders.

We leave the passageways a few streets from the Core when we keep running into pockets of foul air, but, eventually, everywhere we turn is filled with more and more people, not just from Depreston, but all over Level Eight, heavily loaded down with their possessions, and one step away from a stampede. We don’t need Zipper’s encouragement to go faster to know we’re running out of time.

Greyson, I ask, sensing his growing anxiety over the link. What’s wrong?

The station’s got to break into pods, yeah?

Yup, eight each level, like an orange.

L8, its streets, its alleyways, every inch of space’s been used. Our homes grow like weeds in every crack. See? He signs the last word, two fingers flicking from his right eye to the straight line of buildings running towards the Core, dividing this quadrant from its neighbour. At regular distances there’re doorways, at least two metres deep, that would’ve been as high as one person balanced on another’s shoulders and as wide as three people stretched from fingertip to fingertip, but that space has been eaten into by tiny shops and living spaces, becoming a narrow gap.

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So the quadrants can’t be sealed off, I say.

No.

What about the other levels?

Greyson thinks for a moment, and then nods decisively. Yeah. I guess. I know L7 about as well as L8, and they’ll be fair fine. The higher levels are in better condition.

Right, I’ll tell Lenora. I say and message her. All of Level Eight needs to be evacuated. Its air is going to vent into space as soon as it’s jettisoned.

Oh, well that’s not going to be an issue, she replies. There’s already a mass exodus of the entire level as we speak.

I pass the message onto Greyson and he relaxes a bit. We emerge a block from the Core to find the area packed shoulder to shoulder.

This’s taking too glitching long, Greyson growls. And the lift isn’t going to get us to L0.

I’ve only got a pass to Level Three anyway. We could try the stairs. The air could be okay, I suggest.

Still take an age. He chews his lip in indecision.

What?

The jetkites on L4. Reckon if we run it’ll take twenty minutes tops to get there via the stairs. Maybe another ten to reach the level’s rim if we hitch a ride. Then we can use the jetkites to get us to the very top. Ready to run for it?

Yeah, I answer with an encouraging grin. Race you!