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“Okay, then,” Erik says, breaking the tension. “Can you show us the loophole?”
“We’re making a run in ten minutes. You have good timing, Dante,” Falon says. Her eyes look black in the dim light.
“Not really,” he says. “I caught wind of some intel coming from within Kincaid’s web.”
“Good to know you’re still paying attention,” Falon says. She strides off. With her leather pants and simple black braid she’s intimidating, but we follow her as she exits through the dome’s hole onto the dock.
“Give her a few minutes,” Dante says. “She’ll warm up. She doesn’t like to admit when she’s worried.”
“And she’s been worried about you?” I guess.
“I’ve been preoccupied and with Kincaid hovering over you it’s been even harder to slip out.”
“So Kincaid doesn’t know about this operation?” Erik asks.
Dante takes a deep breath and then slowly shakes his head. “A lot of these people run refugees for him. It provides a cover and a living, but Kincaid doesn’t know about this place or everything our operation does.”
I look around at the workers. It’s a strange mix of people—many our own age, but plenty of older adults. They have belts with tools and goggles over their eyes or hanging at their necks for easy access. As we pass through the burst of steam that hangs over the dock, I see what’s at the end of it. The doors and windows I spotted are part of a metal box that hangs suspended from a balloon drifting in the air. Great steel ribs circle the envelope, locking in its shape. The aeroship is tethered to the dock by thick ropes. It’s the same type as the one I crashed on our first night here—the one I assumed was Guild.
I whirl on Dante. “Where are we? Who are these people?
Dante spreads his hands wide, gesturing to the bustle of activity around us. “Welcome to the resistance. Adelice, you’re in the heart of the Kairos Agenda.”
THIRTY
DANTE LEADS US ON A SHORT TOUR of the facilities, past instrument panels and groups poring over blueprints.
“What are they working on?” I ask.
“The grid,” Jax says, pointing to the panels. “We’re getting close to self-sufficiency.”
“You’re building a power grid?”
“The only way the Icebox—or any future city on Earth—can exist is with a power source,” Dante says.
“But Kincaid—”
“Is shortsighted,” Dante interrupts me. “He can only think of destroying Arras. He’s never considered what it will take to rebuild Earth after that. If we’re going to repopulate civilization, we’ll need access to power, and the last thing I want is to rely on Kincaid when that day comes.”
“We’re experimenting with an exclusively solar-based system,” Jax tells us. “We don’t have access to coal at this point. That’s still under Kincaid’s control, but I’ve built a photovoltaic array that is entirely dependent on solar energy. It will be easier when we have a power station with permanent arrays, but we’ll have to wait until the Interface comes before we can fully utilize my system.”
Jax and Dante answer more questions about their plans, but I stay silent. Not only is the Agenda alive, it’s growing. Dante and the other revolutionaries aren’t planning for war, they’re preparing for what comes after. As annoyed as I am that Dante hid this from me, I admire his foresight. It’s not something I’m naturally gifted with.
They take us to the aeroship and we step inside it to find a spacious viewing area that overlooks the ocean below us. Outside, a corridor exits onto an open-air deck, with ladders onto the rigid body of the ship. I can’t bring myself to ask the question waiting on my lips as I look around.
“They’re pulling the tethers,” Falon says, coming up to us. “I checked with the pilot and we have a confirmed rivet set up along the gathering route.”
“How many are coming through?” Dante asks.
“Only one with credentials, but he’s ensured passage for a few others,” Falon says.
“And what are we going to do with them?” Dante asks. “Kincaid is watching the Icebox too closely right now. It will be hard to get them safely established inside.”
“You’ll figure something out,” Falon says, her words more threatening than supportive. She won’t look at Dante, clearly still angry with him over the last few weeks.
“I don’t have the sway,” Dante says, grabbing her arm.
“Since when?” Falon demands.
