Chapter 19

The evening light was fading as I stood at the main gate to Boston, the salty scent of the sea filling the air. The activity around the gate was bustling, with people moving about, their faces illuminated by the dimming light. A large mechanical crane, its engines rumbling and pistons screeching, lifted huge stones for an improvement being made to the battlements. Adults and children alike gathered to watch, their faces nearly as awed as the youngsters’. It was a rare event for Order to be turned up in the outer sector, but the powers that be in the tower had evidently deemed it necessary to expend the Flows to elevate the Order here, allowing the heavy machinery to function. The crew worked fast, clearly instructed to complete their task quickly so that Order could be turned back down as soon as possible.

I walked through the gate, and the atmosphere felt almost festive. With Order turned up, higher-level technology could function, and the poor hovels out here, which normally relied on fire for cooking and candles for lighting, could suddenly employ all manner of mechanical and electrical wonders. Family heirlooms were being pulled out of storage everywhere: electric toys making crude sounds, music blaring from speakers, and through the window of one house, I could see the glow of a projector playing some ancient film. Everywhere, the excited voices of adults and the glee of children filled the air.

As I strode through the sectors toward my father's house, I thought about the pressure and excitement that would come with the Griidsuit if I could only win it. Times were tough in Boston; if our Griidlords had more success gathering Orbs, then there could be more Flows for the city, and moments like this could be more common. The poorer folks could have expanded access to technology—simple things, like fridges—that would make their lives better and easier.

As I approached the gate to the next sector, I felt a presence beside me. I turned to find Katya walking alongside me.

She said, "Again we miss our chance to train together. It was a long ride back from the valley; today went quite late."

I fumbled for words, "Maybe tomorrow will be shorter..."

Katya replied, "Yes, though I do fear it will be too short for you. Your fumbling return to the hilltop today marks you substantially behind everyone else in growing accustomed to the suit."

I took no offense, though the reality stung a little. It was either the way of her people or maybe just her own way to speak plainly, and she was right. They had waited hours on the hilltop for my return. She looked at me with that strange, curious, piercing expression she often wore.

"It's very odd how slow you are growing into the suit when you are gaining attributes so quickly. I could have sworn you looked more clumsy when you came back from the valley than you looked going down."

"I was tired," I said. "It had been a long day, and I'd been lost. I'd done a lot of walking. I was fatigued."

She almost ignored me. "Lauren said you gained a level of Scent in almost no time."

I shrugged, "I seem to have a knack for gaining attributes. I just don't know if that will be enough." Then I asked, "Have you gained any attributes yet?"

She said, "Today was a good chance to spend time in the suit. I did develop a level of Scent too, but I think it took me much longer than it did for you. I gained a lot of fluency with moving in the suit, and I raised some attributes from 0.0, but nothing is really close to a 1.0 yet, apart from Scent."

We continued walking on the cobbled streets of the second sector. The smell of roasting meat and the sound of drunken laughter poured from one of the elegant taverns that lined the main thoroughfare. The streets were more refined here, the buildings taller and better maintained. Lamps lit with gas cast a warm glow, creating pools of light along our path. The occasional horse-drawn carriage clattered by, the sound of hooves echoing off the stone walls.

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A steam truck puttered by, making deliveries between this sector and the higher ones beyond the next gate. Katya was looking at me, measuring me. I grew uncomfortable and said, "What?"

She said, "You're not unappealing to look at. If I don't win the Griidsuit and you do, then having you for a husband would not be a terrible consolation prize."

I spluttered again; her unabashed frankness was hard to get used to. "I thought you had decided I had little chance of winning the Griidsuit."

She kept looking at me. Her eyes were so sharp, intelligent, I could see them working, measuring, piercing, seeing right through me. She mused, aloofly, "You've made it this far, Tiberius. Three have been sent home already, and you are not among them."

I said, "But do you think I can surpass the favorites? Lauren, Lance, Gideon... or you?"

She said, "I wouldn't have said so, not without the greatest of luck, but I think you have a scheme... Have you thought any more on my offer?"

I said, "To train together, you mean? I think we should talk again after tomorrow's competition. I don't want to give up any of my secrets too easily, Katya. It's not that I don't want to see you succeed, but I don't want to lose my advantage to you. That's fair, isn't it?"

She was completely matter-of-fact. "Of course it is. You'd be mad not to see that. It really goes without saying. That's why my marriage proposal evens it out."

She was looking at me differently than the day before. I almost felt as though she was holding me in higher regard, which made little sense; on both days, I had essentially come second to last. But as we walked towards the next sector, the sounds of electric music starting to reach our ears, I could still feel her dissecting me with her eyes.

Katya peeled off from me as we entered the gate to the next sector, and I continued to my father's house. As I approached the towering mansion, I saw Harold outside with a hose, watering the flowers, while another servant swept the paved path. The little bit of space in front of our house dedicated to ornamental planting was a massive display of wealth. In this sector, where Order was always elevated, any sort of garden was considered a tremendous piece of decadence.

Harold bowed his head to me, "Victorious again, young master. Perhaps I will be the servant of a Griidlord yet."

I snorted, "Victorious doesn't seem like the proper term for someone who came second to last."

Harold smiled, "If you keep coming second to last until the end, you'll only need to finish in first place one time."

I shivered, feeling the pressure again, dreading my father, as I entered the house. In the hall, I found my father pacing. When he saw me, he came right at me, his eyes drawn. He seemed sober; I could smell no whiskey on him.

"Tiberius, you survived again, thank the Oracle, but your stock is so low. Nobody thinks you'll make it another round."

"Father, I'm trying. I'm getting better. It's a long road to winning the Griidsuit."

His eyes were desperate. "Tiberius, between the bet and my losses in Dodge, the Griidsuit is becoming the least of our concerns. I need you to do better, to impress more, at least create an impression that you're a threat to win. I need to renegotiate my wagers, and nobody is interested in surrendering any odds when your loss seems to be assured."

I felt hot and angry. My whole life, he had been training me to win the suit, my days and dreams consumed with the stress of the challenge. But now, in part because of his own foolishness, his precious fortune was in peril, and I was becoming just another tool in his eyes.

I snapped, "Don't you think I would have done better if I could? I survived the day, Father. I'll have another chance tomorrow."

He grew more intense, more agitated. He grabbed my shoulders, shook me, his voice piercing, "You're my son. You can't defend surviving. Where did you get this apathy? We're winners, Tiberius, the greatest winners. I built the greatest fortune in the city from nothing, and I've put myself in a position where a place in the nobility is in my grasp. Would you take this from me with your soppishness? I was too generous with you. You grew no steel living in the luxury that I made for us!"

I could barely find words for the anger I felt. "Luxury! Father, my life has been training. Where other children got to play, got treats, got love, all I got was lessons, lessons, and more lessons. When in my life have I had the chance to enjoy these luxuries?" I spread my arms, feeling hotter, angrier. "All of this, this splendor, it's just more pressure."

I could feel tears stinging my eyes now. A moment of empathy flashed in his eyes—concern, caring even—but he wiped it away quickly, stepped closer, his voice a growl. That growl carried more menace than any roar I could summon. "All this splendor hangs by a thread, Tiberius, and the thread is you. If you don't win the Griidsuit, or at least find the mettle to start placing well, then all of this will be gone, and you can see what it's like to live a less-pressured life."