Read an Excerpt
Daylight Runner AER
Chapter One
Section 1/24: Accident
The eight teenagers waited excitedly for their chance to be dangled from the giant's arm. Solomon Wheat stood apart from his classmates, his face hidden by the hood of his black tracksuit top, his gaze lost in the latticed shapes of the gantries silhouetted against the white light of the dome above them. It was to be their turn next; they could see the arm of the tower crane swinging toward them, the glass and denceramic carriage starting to descend. Except for a single figure, it was empty, the rest of their class having already been deposited on the far side of the complex.
Despite his withdrawn posture, Sol was as excited as the rest of his classmates. He had never been in a crane car, and this was a luxury model, normally only used by the big-noise industrialists and planners. As a school tour, this was going to be hard to top. The carriage was being lowered toward its cradle. Large enough for ten people to sit on its richly upholstered seats, its smooth, classic, graphite-colored curves spoke of sheer class. This was how the other half traveled: archaic but majestic. The figure inside was Vincent Schaeffer, the main man, head of the Third Quadrant, responsible for the very air they breathed. The whole thing was a blatant PR stunt, an attempt to show how the company was "in touch" with young people. But as long as he got a ride on the crane, Sol wasn't going to complain.
The carriage's cradle, a steel-framed platform, rose to meet the carriage on hydraulic arms as it was lowered the last few meters, magnets activating to pull the swinging load into line and control itstouchdown with impressive accuracy. Five girls and three boys surged forward, each of them eager to be the first on board and grab the best seat.
"Hold on!" Ms. Kiroa, their teacher, called them back. "Wait until Mr. Schaeffer says it's all right. That includes you, Faisal Twomey."
Ana Kiroa was young, and pretty in a strict, teacher kind of way, but her voice already had the tone of authority, and the students reacted, stumbling to a reluctant halt. They waited, slowly edging closer to the door, while trying to look as stationary as possible. Sol hung back near the teacher. He would try and sit near her if he could, but not so close as to be obvious.
Schaeffer opened the door and waved them aboard, stepping aside to avoid being knocked over in the rush. Ms. Kiroa smiled an apology, shrugging helplessly as the students poured up the platform's steps and through the door. Sol shifted the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, stuck his hands deeper into his pockets, and nodded to Schaeffer as he passed him. There were three seats left together, and he took the middle one, relishing the knowledge that Ms. Kiroa would have to sit beside him. He stuck his bag on the floor and twisted to look out of the window behind him.
They were surrounded by the Ventilation Complex, which made up the center of the Third Quadrant. Most of the girls hated the complex...they thought it ugly and cold...but to Sol it was interesting, an insight into how the city worked. A stacked maze of metal shafts, ducts, filtration systems, tall dispersal fans, and many other unidentifiable constructions served to feed air into the city from the frozen world outside. Beyond, the tops of the poorest apartment blocks in the quadrant could be seen, their windows looking out on this industrial spread.
"Welcome to the Schaeffer Corporation. Unfortunately, at this early stage, I'm going to be leaving you," Schaeffer told the class, interrupting Sol's thoughts. "I have a few things to attend to, but I'll meet you on the other side. I'm sure Ms. Kiroa can talk you through the trip. Just a few safety messages...sorry, I have to; you know what these safety people are like!"
He was a short man in a slightly rumpled suit, with a potbelly, long white sideburns, and a chubby face. He didn't look like a big-shot businessman, Sol thought, and he was obviously ill at ease around young people.
Schaeffer stepped out of the carriage and closed the door firmly behind him. Sol turned to watch him; the man waved at them and then turned to walk toward another carriage on the far side of the yard. Sol turned back as the seat shuddered underneath him, and he pressed his feet against the floor in reflex.
"This is such a rush!" Cleo, one of the girls across from him, muttered to a friend. "Feel my arm; I'm all goose bumps!"
She was an odd girl...cute enough, with her Asian eyes and blond hair. Cleo and Sol had been friends when they were younger. But now she was just another loudmouth teenaged rebel, a singer for some wannabe band. Sol looked away: he had no taste for girls his own age; they were all so flighty. The carriage jerked slightly, and he felt his stomach lurch as they were lifted from the ground. There were a few whoops and squeals, and suddenly everybody was standing up and looking out of the windows.
"Sit down, please!" Ms. Kiroa called, but it was halfhearted, and she stood up herself to make the most of the view. Sol positioned himself at her shoulder; he was taller than she, and, with her head by his nose, he could smell her hair. He breathed in the scent, then moved away slightly, suddenly embarrassed by how close she was.
The city fell away around them, and they rose high over the quadrant, above the Ventilation Complex below, above the surrounding buildings, until they could see clear across the city. Above them, the tower crane's jib began to turn, swinging them out and around, heading toward the Second Quadrant, where they would connect with a gantry crane and be carried over into the Food Production Complex. Between the tops of the four looming tower cranes...one in the center of each quadrant...and the domed roof of the city, there was only the gantry grid. Each with four arms, the tower cranes' resemblance to a force of protective metal giants was now a permanent part of their image.
Daylight Runner AER. Copyright © by Oisin McGann. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
