Uglies

Then her fall reversed, and she pulled back upward, hover-bouncing head over heels, sky and horizon spi

Now she was falling again, the dirt of the compound replaced by a building below her.

One foot almost touched down onto the roof, but Tally was pulled up again, still barreling forward with the momentum of her leap off the hill.

She managed to orient herself, sorting out up and down just in time to see the edge of the roof coming toward her. She was overshooting the building….

Flailing in the grasp of the jacket, flying helplessly upward and then down again, she passed the roof's edge. But her outstretched hand caught a rain gutter, bringing Tally to a sudden halt. "Phew," she said, looking down.

The building wasn't very tall, and Tally would bounce in her jacket if she fell, but the moment her feet touched the ground, the wire would sound an alarm. She gripped the rain gutter with both hands.

But the bungee jacket, satisfied that her fall had stopped, was shutting itself down, gradually returning her to normal weight. She struggled to pull herself up onto the roof, but the heavy knapsack full of rescue equipment dragged her downward. It was like trying to do a pull-up wearing lead shoes.

She hung there, out of ideas, waiting to fall.

Footsteps came toward her along the roof, and a face appeared.

David.

"Having trouble?"

She grunted an answer, and he reached over, grabbing a strap of the knapsack. The weight mercifully lifted from her shoulders, and Tally pulled herself over the edge.

David sat back onto the roof, shaking his head. "So, Tally, you used to do that for fun?"

"Not every day."

"Didn't think so. Can we rest for a minute?"

She sca

"Sure. Take two minutes, if you want. It looks like the Specials weren't expecting anyone to jump out of the sky."

Inside

The roof of Special Circumstances had looked flat and featureless from way up on top of the hill. But standing on it, Tally could see air vents, ante

"So how do we get in?" David asked.

"We should start with this." She pointed toward the hovercar door.

"Don't you think they'll notice if we come through there and we're not a hovercar?"

"Agreed. But what if we jam the door? If any more Specials show up, we don't want to make it easy for them to come in after us."

"Good idea." David searched through his knapsack, bringing out what looked like a tube of hair gel. He squeezed out white goo along the edges of the door, careful not to let any touch his fingers.

"What's that?"

"Glue. The nano kind. You can stick your shoes to the ceiling with this stuff and hang upside down."

Tally's eyes widened. She'd heard rumors of tricks you could play with nanotech glue, but uglies weren't allowed to requisition it. "Tell me you haven't done that."

He smiled. "I had to leave them up there. Waste of good shoes. So how do we get down?"

Tally pulled a powerjack from her pack and pointed. "We take the elevator."

The big metal box sticking up from the roof looked like a storage shed, but the double doors and eye-reader gave it away. Tally squinted, making sure the reader didn't flash her, and worked her powerjack between the doors. They crumpled like foil.

Through the doors, a dark shaft dropped away to nothingness. Tally clicked her tongue, and the echoes indicated that it was a long way down. She glanced at her collar light. Still green.

Tally turned to David. "Wait for me to whistle."

She stepped off into thin air.

Falling down the shaft was much scarier than leaping off Garbo Mansion, or even flying into space from the hilltop. The darkness offered no clue how deep the shaft was, and it felt to Tally as if she might fall forever.

She sensed the walls rushing past, and wondered if she was drifting toward one side as she fell, about to crash against it. She imagined herself bouncing from one wall to another all the way down, coming to a soft landing already broken and bleeding.

Tally kept her arms close to her sides.

At least she was sure the jacket would work in here. Elevators used the same magnetic lifters as any other hovercraft, so there was always a solid metal plate at the bottom.

After a long count of five, the jacket gripped Tally. She bounced twice, straight up and down, then settled onto a hard surface and found herself in silence and absolute blackness.

Stretching out her hands, she felt the four walls around her. Nothing suggested the inside of closed doors. Her fingers came away greasy.

Tally peered upward. A tiny shaft of light shone above, and she could just make out David's face peering down. She pursed her lips to whistle, but stopped.

A muffled sound came from below her feet. Someone talking.

She crouched, trying to grasp the words. But all Tally could hear was the razor sound of a cruel pretty's voice. The mocking tone reminded her of Dr. Cable.

Without warning, the floor dropped out from under her. Tally struggled to keep her footing. When the elevator stopped again, one of her ankles twisted painfully under her weight, but she managed not to fall.

The sound below her faded. One thing was certain now: The complex wasn't empty.

Tally lifted her head and whistled, then huddled in one corner of the shaft, hands covering her head, counting.

Five seconds later, a pair of feet dangled next to her, then jerked back up, the beam of David's flashlight swinging around drunkenly. Gradually, he settled beside her. "Wow. It's dark down here."

"Shhh," she hissed.

He nodded, sweeping the flashlight around the shaft. Just above them, it fell on the inside of closed doors. Of course. Standing on the elevator's roof, they were midway between floors.

Tally interlaced her fingers, locking her hands together to give David a boost up to where he could wedge the powerjack between the doors. They crumpled open with a metal screech that set her hair on end. He pulled himself through, then extended his hand back down to her. Tally grabbed it and pulled, her grippy shoes squeaking on the walls of the elevator shaft like a herd of panicked mice.

Everything was making too much noise.

The hallway was dark. Tally tried to convince herself that no one had heard them yet.

Maybe this whole floor was empty at night.

She pulled out her own flashlight, pointing it at the doors as they walked down the hall.

Small brown labels marked each of them.

"Radiology. Neurology. Magnetic Imaging," she read softly. "Operating Theater Two."

She looked at David. He shrugged and gave the door a push. It opened.

"I guess when you're in an underground bunker, there's no point in locking up," he said softly. "After you."

Tally crept inside. The room was big, the walls lined with dark and silent machines. An operating tank stood in the middle, the liquid drained out of it, tubes and electrodes hanging loosely in a puddle at the bottom. A metal table glistened with the cruel shapes of knives and vibrasaws.