They’d imprisoned nine guards already. Time would tell if they would join the resistance, but Ari was in no rush to kill anyone. The loss of life that had occurred already made her sick to her stomach. A needless waste.

  “Three is almost full,” Celia said, her taser aimed at the guard, who was fighting for breath.

  “I know,” Ari replied. “It’s the best we can do until we can figure out another holding place. We can’t co-opt another atlas. People need them to live in.” When Ari was a child, the farm chain had been vast, twenty habitats strong, each equipped with a dozen atlases, two hundred and forty in total. People had thrived. Now they were whittled down to four biospheres, only one that was semiworking, and thirty-one atlases. Not nearly enough space for the number of farmers still trying to survive out here.

  Celia nodded, yanking Claude up, another resister grabbing his other arm. They hauled him out.

  Once they left, the old farmer took a step forward. “Thank you, my dear.” William’s voice shook with both age and fear. “I couldn’t let him get to the lights. They’re all we have left. I was prepared to sacrifice myself for the greater good.” He clutched a harvesting apron. They were rarely needed these days, as there wasn’t much collecting to do.

  Ari patted his shoulder. “You did the right thing, William. It was very brave of you to try and protect our last resource. We’re the ones who are grateful.” The farmers had lived a fairly peaceful existence until the past year. They weren’t used to conflict, especially the older folks. “We appreciate your willingness to sacrifice yourself. Without those lights, we’d have no chance of making it through the next few weeks.” As it was, the water-cleansing systems were also faulty, the salt water poisoning the crops. Disconnecting from New Eden meant they were nowhere near the engineering ship that could help fix the issues.

  It was too much to think about. They’d done what they’d had to do.

  William shook his head, his thin white hair brushing his shoulders. “We’re thankful for you,” he said quietly, grasping her hand. “If you hadn’t come to our rescue when you did, all would have been lost. We owe you our livelihood.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” Ari replied, guilt welling in its familiar pocket inside her chest. “I’m just one of many trying to get us to safety.” Wherever that was.

  “It was you who cut us loose and gave us a chance,” he continued, surprising her by touching his forehead to her hand. “Your father was rounding us up, ready to sacrifice us to the sea, commandeering our supplies. We have faith in you. We will live to see another day because of what you’ve done.” He straightened and, much to her relief, released her, giving her a small smile, his eyes misting. “We will not forget it.”

  The hardest decision of Ari’s life thus far had been choosing to sever the farm chain from the floating city. In the end, it’d been the only way to save the hundreds of souls who lived there. William was right. Her father had been willing to end their lives. But by making the choice she had, Ari might’ve very well killed everyone anyway. They barely had enough to survive as it was, and they were drifting into the unstable sea, away from the protected inlet that had been New Eden’s home for the last thirty years.

  “Go get some sleep, William,” she gently coaxed. “We’ll find a way clear of this somehow.” He shuffled out, leaving her alone with Jake. As she turned to her partner, she noticed the look he was giving her. “Don’t start with me. I’m not in the mood.” Jake wrapped his big arms around her, and she reluctantly laid her head against his chest. She’d never been able to resist him and likely never would.

  “I’m not starting anything,” he murmured in a soothing tone. “You have to get some sleep, too. What’s it been? Forty-eight hours?” It’d been longer than that, but there was little time to rest when they were trying to save so many. “Come on. Let’s head back to the atlas. Everyone is waiting for a report.”

  Ari nodded, allowing Jake to lead her out of the sphere. The door she’d kicked in wouldn’t close again, but thankfully it hadn’t been attached to the airlock. They descended three levels to get to the pressurized exit. Without it, the twenty-centimeter plexi shell couldn’t maintain the low-pressure atmosphere needed to keep the heat and water vapor at the perfect temp for growing vegetation.

  Outside, the drizzle pattered down on their heads and the cold abraded their cheeks. Ari had lost her helmet sometime during the scuffle, but she would likely find it later, unless it’d floated out to sea. She’d lost more than one that way. Her brown hair, which she kept cut above her shoulders for ease, stuck to the sides of her face. She ignored it. The three pedestrian rings encircling the entire habitat had a bumpy, anti-slide coating, along with handrails, to prevent slipping. It worked most of the time, unless there was a serious downpour. Then you had to be extra careful.

  As they walked, they passed bobbing atlases at regular intervals, each secured in its appropriate station. The three remaining farms were linked to this one by long, titanium cables. Keeping adequate space between the habitats was necessary so they couldn’t crash into each other, causing irreparable damage. They’d lost more than a few that way over the years. The sea was wildly unpredictable, so the spacing minimum was a standard hundred and eighty meters. Their ancestors had likely had access to watercraft, which would’ve made all their lives easier, but all they had now was fewer than a dozen hydro-skis, which weren’t big enough to transport food or supplies and certainly not big enough to ferry so many people to land—wherever that was.

  During the day, when the dim light filtered through the clouds, you could see all the farms lined up, bobbing in the sea. They could be connected by a winching system that used to be automatic, but now took strength and manpower to operate. It was done every five days, so the little food they had could be shared.

  Jake led Ari across the short, sturdy platform that anchored their atlas to the walkway. It’d been reinforced over the years. They all had. The constant rocking from the waves had weakened just about every structure.

  Once they stepped onto their small deck, they had to steel themselves against the churning movement. These homes were smaller and lighter than the biosphere, thus their movement was more volatile in the tumultuous sea. Ari and Jake had a room here, as did three other couples. The living space was housed above the waterline, the bedrooms and shared waste room situated under.

  Four eager expressions greeted them. Brandon, the son of a farmer and a farmer himself until a short time ago, stood. He’d made the transition from tending the gardens and fruit trees to helping with the resistance relatively easily, even without the soldier training Ari and Jake had received at her father’s insistence. The elite must be ready for anything. That had been a common mantra of her father’s throughout her life. Ari was grateful to have the knowledge and skills, though the irony of using them against the man who insisted she be trained was not lost on her.

  Brandon was tall, lean, intelligent, and capable. Ari had ordered him to stay behind, and he wasn’t happy.

  “We heard weapons,” he accused. “Was the biosphere damaged?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ari said as she took a seat on one of the integrated chairs situated around a large sleek synthetic-resin table. “There were no telltale hisses or rapid condensation, so we’re hopeful it’s okay.” If cracked, the biosphere’s atmosphere would fail immediately. Yet another thing to worry about.

  “It was too risky to leave us behind,” Brandon continued. “We should’ve gone with you.” Lila, his partner, placed her hand on his arm, urging him to sit back down. Brandon was a few years older than Ari and was generally level-headed. But his mother had disappeared last month, and he was understandably on edge. He had no idea if she’d been lost at sea or taken prisoner by Ari’s father. Ari hoped it was the latter, since Marty Bancroft Jr. had been incarcerating people for the slightest reasons.

  She met Brandon’s gaze, unfazed by his emotion. She was bone-tired. “Listen, I understand it was risky. We had no idea how many were out there this time. But I left you guys back for a good reason. If anything happened to us, you’re the next in line to oversee this mission. We can’t all be everywhere at once. Somebody who knows what’s going on has to stay behind. Survival here is complicated—if not becoming impossible. These people are looking to us for order and leadership. Without that, everything would descend into chaos.”

  Paris angled her head toward Brandon and in her no-nonsense cadence said, “Sit down and get a hold of yourself. Ari’s right. Four groups of six is all we have, spread out over four habitats. We don’t risk a whole group at any one time. You know the rules. You were here when we made them.” Brandon and Lila had grown up on the farms, while Paris and her partner, Hector, had come from the hulls, the massive underbellies of the ships that had brought them here and the lowest possible regions of New Eden. Their upbringings couldn’t have been more dissimilar, and it showed. Paris’ grittiness gave her an edge. She’d been fighting for everything she’d ever needed since the day she was born.

  Slowly, Brandon took his seat.

  “Ari and I go first,” Jake said. “That’s what we agreed on. Nothing has changed.” They always went first. Insisted on it. They had the most experience and training. Tonight’s backup had been Celia and Russ.

  Paris sat back in her chair. “So, what happened?”

  Jake stayed standing, arms crossed, feet splayed. He was so like his father, it made Ari’s chest tighten. His tone remained formal, the way he’d been taught to give an intelligence report. “Six militia members arrived on two hydro-skis at four this morning. We commandeered one vehicle immediately. Three guards on the other fled under fire. Two were lost to the sea during the altercation. One is in holding. Ari took that guard down in the UV mechanical room, which was being protected by William Sorenson. The guard is likely to survive his injuries and has been taken to Atlas Three.”

  As Jake spoke, Ari unholstered her old, battered, barely functioning baby Blaster. She got up to refill it while everyone began questioning Jake about the details of the altercation. Operating without a working weapon these days was inadvisable. As she scooped metal scraps out of a jar, one she had stocked in the last few days, she yearned for her specialized gear. Especially the custom laser she’d gotten at sixteen, presented to her in a silver box.

  She didn’t have access to it, because she’d been stripped of everything when she’d been captured the last time. The look on her father’s face as she’d stood in defiance of him, knowing it would be the last time they’d see each other until this battle was over, was seared into her brain, not unlike a laser brand.

  He would never forgive her. Not that she wanted forgiveness.

  She only wanted survival.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You need to get some sleep,” Jake murmured softly, his voice singsonging in Ari’s ear as he guided her to their bed. They’d returned to their room below sea level after two hours of discussion on the ever-looming question of what to do next. A question that had no real clear answer. Survival was a day-to-day process. Ari had found that out quickly.

  The sooner everyone accepted that, the better it would be all around.

  It was dark, save for the green haze penetrating the thick plexi wall of their room and the soft glow of their shoulder lights. The water was too murky to discern the submerged outline of the large biosphere sitting ten meters away, or much else, but the light was ever present as long as the UV was running. The atlases gathered solar through their shells, like the biosphere, but depended on the habitat as a whole for everything to run at capacity. Since this farm was the only one generating any electricity, most of the supplemental batteries had been relocated to other atlases, so they could continue to function.

  Ari lay back on the bed. “I’m not tired.” She was, of course, lying. She was exhausted. But sleep wouldn’t come easily. It never did these days.

  Jake began to undress, and Ari turned on her side, fascinated despite the ongoing crisis. Being with Jake like this was still new to her. As he peeled off his syn-leather jacket, his shirt, then his pants, she was struck again by how beautiful he was. She tried, but she couldn’t think of a day they’d ever been apart. It was unfathomable to think of a world without him. She was lucky she didn’t have to. They’d pledged themselves to each other roughly eight months ago, directly following her nineteenth birthday.

  It had been a shock to absolutely no one who knew them, and had always been expected, but it still shocked her that they were together. Together together. Not just as best friends and lovers, but as a working unit—a team.

  Much to their surprise, they’d been forced to go on the run a short time later. Jake had broken her out of the cell her father had put her in and managed to get her to the medi-ship to mend the injuries she’d sustained, and now they were here, drifting to who knew where, preparing to share the same bed.

  Jake draped his pants across a small seating unit built into the atlas’ polystructure. Their sleeping room was small and efficient, just like the others. It held one integrated bed, a tiny storage unit, and a short row of seating. The rest of the space consisted of a clear, fifteen-centimeter-thick, microfiber-reinforced plexi wall. It had been the strongest plexi available at the time of its construction and contained an integrated microscopic honeycomb matrix invisible to the naked eye, making it extremely hard to crack.

  Ari had learned little about her ancestors on land over the past nineteen years, but there were plenty of resources in the floating city about early hydro-farming. Habitats, biospheres, and atlases had changed throughout history, but whoever had commissioned this particular farm had spared no expense. Everything had been reinforced and constructed with the finest materials, meant to last. But after sixty years at sea, things had eventually begun to degrade.

  Jake crawled into bed, immediately gathering Ari into his arms, which had become their new normal. Ari was fully dressed, but Jake wouldn’t push her any more tonight. As long as she slept, he would be happy. “If our sensors go off again,” she murmured, “you’re going to have to fight off the militia in your underclothes.”

  He chuckled, his chest vibrating against her cheek. “I’ll take my chances. Plus, it’s almost dawn. I think we’re safe from any outside influence for at least tonight.”

  “I hope so.” Ari enjoyed his warmth, exhaling a long, tired breath. “Why can’t he just let us go? He should be happy we fled New Eden. We could’ve stayed and created more chaos. Instead, we left.” Her father had begun to target the farms. He’d turned his wrath on the habitats suddenly and without any explanation. If Ari hadn’t made the decision to disconnect from New Eden, all the lives floating along with them would’ve been lost.

  “He’ll never let you go. Not fully anyway,” Jake answered.

  “I betrayed him in the worst possible way. He made it clear if I didn’t repent this time, it would be the last chance I’d ever get. And I spit in his face. After that, he disavowed me, stripped me of everything but the clothes on my back, beat me, and locked me in a cell to rot.” When Jake had found her, she’d needed significant time in a medi-pod to heal. It was pure luck Jake had been able to smuggle her onto the medi-ship. “He’s not coming to capture me. He’s coming to kill me.”

  Ari knew Jake was no fan of her father’s—he’d endured several of his creative punishments over the years. Not even Jake’s father, the second-in-command of New Eden, could save his son from that. As children, she and Jake had had many discussions about it, trying to piece together exactly what was happening on the many levels below them, all the way down to the hulls. They’d realized, almost too late, that they’d been indoctrinated from birth into a strict caste system. People who fell below expectations were never given a chance to redeem themselves. Instead, they and their families were trapped and penalized to live out their lives with less. Much less.

  The first time Ari had laid eyes on a bottom dweller, she’d been shocked. Bottom dwellers—those who were forced to live in the hulls, the foundation the city had been built on—survived on next to nothing, scraping for every last morsel. Each tier higher, a person’s status increased. Ari’s own home had been high in the sky, at the very pinnacle of the city, nothing else above it but clouds and endless precipitation. Ari had had servants to wait on her, pick up provisions, run the errands, and keep everything pristine and tidy. She’d been eight years old before she’d been allowed to leave her sanctuary to traverse the passageways, gripping tightly to her mother’s hand.

  What she’d seen then had rocked her to her core.

  It’d changed Ari, just not fast enough.

  Horrified, she’d asked why children, nothing more than walking spirits, were dressed in rags, their skin pale and scabbed over. Later, she’d learned their unhealthy appearance was caused by a severe lack of UV and vital nutrients and vitamins, but she hadn’t known that then. Her mother had chastised her for staring, ordering her to avert her eyes, telling her that she was lucky she lived so high above the waterline and that she shouldn’t question what had been given to her as her birthright.

  Her mother had never been a strong soul, bound to her father by his quaking will and nothing more. The day she died was memorable, as it had been one without rain. Her mother had simply leaped off their balcony, never to be seen again. Ari had been twelve, and by then she’d been well aware that her mother was sick—not like the children in the hulls, purposely deprived of UV and sustenance—but her mind had never been right, and it had deteriorated over the years, damaged beyond repair.

  That very day, Ari had begun to question her own life in earnest, and her role in New Eden. It’d taken her another six years to hone her skills, find her voice, and make the necessary break from her father, which had all led to this—drifting in the sea, tethered to a few hundred other lost souls.