She shook her head. “You’re going to get in so much trouble.”
“Only if they catch me.”
She looked at me like I was crazy. But she also looked a little bit thoughtful. Intrigued, maybe. Because what if I really could get away with it?
“You’d need a keycard,” she said. “If the bikes are part of the groundskeepers motor pool, they probably keep the cards right there in the garage. That’s what they do at my parents’ place, anyway.”
I had to think about that for a minute, that her parents had a place big enough to have its own groundskeepers. But I could process that later. Right now, I had a plan.
“Interesting,” I replied, as if it were just an observation.
Student supervisor Franteska stalked over to us, arms crossed, glaring like some military drill sergeant. “Less talking, more lifting, girls.”
I matched her glare as she stalked off and didn’t even care if she liked me or not.
Angelyn seemed worried. “Polly, whatever you do, be careful, okay?”
“Always,” I said. “Can you help me put another two kilos on this?”
10
I figured if I went extra early in the morning, I’d be okay. I’d stay out for fifteen, twenty minutes, tops, and be back in time for breakfast before anyone missed me.
That night, I set the alarm on my hand terminal and slipped it under my pillow. I shouldn’t have bothered, because I hardly slept anyway, I was so worried about making sure I shut off the alarm before it woke anyone. If Ladhi knew what I was planning, she’d freak out, and Marie would roll her eyes and think I was being immature, if not actually report me. I kept waking up all night long, so I finally shut off the alarm entirely. My heart was thudding, my head was fuzzy, but that only made the adventure more exciting. This was way more interesting than the artificial, slow-cooker drudgery the school had been pounding at us.
Quickly, I slipped on my exercise clothes. I stuck a cap on my head, pulling it down so the brim shadowed my face. I’d set the maintenance program to cut off power to the cameras for a half an hour, starting right about now, but just in case my hack didn’t work and the cameras spotted me anyway, I hoped I’d be hard to identify. I shouldn’t even look like a student.
Doors recorded every exit and entry and who made it. I used the same maintenance program to trick the doors between the room and the garage into thinking I was a repair operator passing through, and not a student. I hope it worked.
I ducked through the door and into the corridor outside the room, looking over my shoulder to see if the noise had woken my roommates. They didn’t so much as flinch—so far so good. I continued down the hallway like I belonged there, striding confidently. If everything was going as planned, the cameras weren’t even recording me.
I reached the garage, and one last door—the larger overhead door leading outside. I keyed in the code and waited for a heart-stopping minute until the door slid upward with a sigh. The sky outside was a dull cottony gray of predawn. A slight breeze blew, carrying a chill. Angelyn and the others said sky like this meant rain was on the way, and wouldn’t that be something to see? Nothing like the dusty winds of Mars.
Now all that was left was the cycle.
I’d studied these things up and down: chemical-battery operated, solar recharge, carbon-fiber struts and frame, rubber tires. Most of the controls were on the handlebars for easy reach, with an instrument panel in the middle showing speed, direction, and power output. And they did in fact have an activation key. I hunted around for it, and wonder of wonders, Angelyn was right: the activation keys were in a cupboard on the wall. It wasn’t even locked. On top of that, the keys were helpfully labeled with numbers that matched the cycles’ ID plates. It was like someone wanted me to borrow one.
In another cupboard I found helmets, took one that fit, and was ready to go. Looking over the cycles, I picked the one that seemed like the zippiest, released its brakes, and wheeled it to the open garage door. The driveway stretched ahead, curving along the mist-touched lawn, an undeniable invitation. The path was flat, paved, and smooth, obviously designed for someone to go very fast on it. I already felt better. I could sense all the stress of the last few weeks blowing away on an artificial breeze.
I straddled the cycle and double-checked the controls—my fingers around the brake lever, thumb on the accelerator button. Just fifteen minutes, I reminded myself. Once around the building and back, just like at home. No one would ever know.
The electric motor hummed; I felt it more than heard it, a vibration rumbling up through my legs. I took a moment to get used to the sound, the feel. The front wheel turned on its fork for steering. The seat bounced a little on shock absorbers. I had to get used to the balance, which was a lot different from the scooters at home. These had rubber tires on the ground rather than hover lifts, which couldn’t fall over. But apart from that, this would be familiar.
Finally, a grin on my face, I put the cycle in gear and revved the motor.
I wobbled a bit. I wasn’t proud of that, but no one was looking, and the way my blood was rushing I was lucky I didn’t fall over. After coasting a few meters, I got my balance and turned up the speed. A few more meters like that, a bit more acceleration, I was really cruising. And it was marvelous. I wore the helmet, but nothing on my face—no goggles, no breathing mask. The wind hit me, skidding across my face, making my eyes tear up.
The land slipped past. I was doing something. Going somewhere. Forward movement. I couldn’t even feel the gravity anymore. I was flying. I laughed out loud.
I could have just kept going. Down the road, off school grounds. The solar recharger on the cycle’s battery meant I wasn’t going to run out of fuel. I wanted to see the ocean. That would probably shake me up even more than the open, breathable sky. If I was going to spend all this time on Earth, I ought to actually see some of it, right?
It would have been so easy to keep on going.
But I didn’t. I was good. Sensible. Even Charles would have admired how responsible I was being when I got to the edge of the school grounds, marked by two tall steel pillars and an automated security checkpoint. I slowed and stopped, putting my foot down to help brace the cycle upright. The pillars probably had a motion-sensitive beam across the way, tracking whoever entered and left. Through the gates, the flat black road and trimmed lawn continued, then curved around a forested hill. I couldn’t go past it. I considered riding another fifty meters or so until I could see around the hill, but I’d already been out longer than I should have been. So I turned around, opened the power, and sped back to the garage, enjoying a last few moments of freedom.
I’d left the garage door open behind me. I probably shouldn’t have done that.
My plan was to ride the cycle into the garage, park it exactly where I’d found it, close all the doors, put away helmet and key, sneak back to my room by the time my hack on the surveillance cameras expired, and no one would know I’d done anything. Except Charles, if he noticed, would ask why I was so giddy happy.