“I can’t go to Earth.”
Tink smiled at Pennie. “How else do you think you’re going to get your client to give up her element? Certainly not from up here?”
Command Center was dense with Fair Force in compact cubicles. Most of their screens were monitoring important sites: the Statue of Liberty, the Golden Gate Bridge, Mount Rushmore. A few other screens seemed to be tracking individuals, while a few more were tracking large crowds.
Tink led Pennie through another doorway to a center stage where hundreds of screens floated in and out of each other. These Fair Force sat in front of 3D hologram screens so clear that Pennie stepped over non-existent rocks and shielded her eyes from rainfall.
“Command Center!” Tink shouted over the noise. “Inner sanctum.”
Tink led Pennie toward two empty keyboards in a back corner. There, she sat on what looked to be nothing but air. Pennie hesitated but Tink patted the empty space next to her. “It’s an iWind seat. They’re fabulous.”
Pennie squealed when the invisible force caught her. “I never knew we had these.”
“You don’t. Everything in here is classified Fair Force equipment.” Tink slid on a headset. “Now. What did you say the client’s address was?”
“Nineteen Nathan Lane. Hadley Beach.”
“And where’s that?”
“California.”
“California,” Tink repeated, entering the information.
A screen materialized in front of them and an image of Earth began zooming in. Tink placed a flat hand on her stomach. “That gets me every time. You wouldn’t happen to know the zip code?”
“90266.”
Tink entered the numbers and the image zoomed closer, into the United States, to the West Coast, to Los Angeles County, and eventually to Hadley Beach and 19 Nathan Lane.
“That’s a much better image than we get. What are you using?”
“It’s classified Fair Force technology. They’re working on an updated visual for you, I’ve heard.”
“A 3rdi-All?” Pennie asked hopefully.
“I’m afraid not. That’s still only Lieutenant Fair One equipment. Now, let’s see where we are.” Tink studied the screen.
“It’s like I’m actually standing in their driveway. There has to be a way I can do the Right to Delete from here.”
“There isn’t,” Tinktoria said. “She’ll need to sign this.”
Tink tapped her temple and a hologram form letter materialized in front of them.
“I hereby agree to cease and desist all use of my personal elemental power until further notice or forever, whichever comes first.” Pennie read. “Really? That’s all she needs to do. Sign this?”
“That’s it.” Tink flicked her hand, making the hologram disappear.
Pennie sighed, relieved. “So in general, like in past Right to Deletes, do they just sign it when the Fair One shows up with it?”
“There are a few other stipulations. You’ll have to read the fine print.”
“There’s fine print?”
“There’s always fine print, Fair One. It’s in your Intel. RTD Form 0100.” Tink tapped her temple again.
Another hologram form appeared. Pennie stepped closer to it and squinted. It was very, very fine.
“Basically,” Tink said. “It says something along the lines of: Once the form has been signed, any further use of the four elements—wind, water, lightning, fire—by the client will result in an Immediate Erase of client and Banishment of Fair One. Any injuries caused by such arrest shall be neither the fault nor the responsibility of Fair Force LLC … and so on.”
“Wa—wa—wait. No one said anything about the Fair One getting banished.”
“Yes they did. Right here. In the fine print.”
“If my client signs the form, but then accidentally conjures up a small breeze—”
“You’re both goners.” Tink nodded. “One way or the other.”
Pennie tried to register this. Banishment was to be sent off into deep space. Alone. Forever. Never to be heard from again.
“You’re looking a little peaked. Still want to go through with it?”
“Of course. Yeah. Yes.”
“All right then.” Tink waved the hologram away.
“Just one thing. How exactly do I explain everything to my client, starting with the fact that she’s been born with a weather element and is in constant danger of being discovered by Mother Nature?”
“Reason with her.”
“She’s a teenager.”
“I see your point. It’s a tough age for that. I recall a few Fair Ones trying some sort of cattle shocking device. I don’t have one of those to give to you, though. They managed to get hold of them on their own.”
“What happens if I do succeed? Do I get reassigned to a new client?”
“Honestly, I’m not quite sure. I don’t remember anyone succeeding before. Of course, I’ve only been in this department for eight decades.”
“No one’s succeeded in eighty years?”
“A Right to Delete is extremely difficult to accomplish. It was only created to appease the Unions, which is why it’s in the very, very, very fine print of the Official Manual. You must have an expert knowledge of the rules to even know about it.”
Laraby. Pennie groaned. He was right—she shouldn’t have thanked him yet. “If it’s this hard, why am I bothering to try at all?”
“I don’t know, Fair One. Why are you?”
Pennie looked back at the Tylwyth house on the screen. How could she live with herself if she didn’t at least try to save Tenley? Besides, being a miserable Administrator was no way to live.
But going to Earth? She couldn’t.
She turned to Tink and shook her head. “I’d do anything to save her except go to Earth.”
“That’s good to know.” Tink stood and started for the exit.
“So what do we do next?” Pennie hurried after her.
“I have my art to get back to. I’m sure you have some things to take care of before you’re sent to Administration.”
Pennie stopped. “Isn’t there a plan B?”
Tink turned around. “My dear Fair One. You have been given this forty-eight hour period to prove us wrong, not the other way around. We’ve made our decision.” Tink took her hand. “I know you’re worried for your client, Fair One. I assure you, though, getting erased is painless and a much kinder alternative than getting taken by Mother Nature. You’re doing the right thing. As for Administration, it’s not as terrible as they say. You might even enjoy it.” Tink dropped Pennie’s hand and started for the exit.
“Enjoy it?” Pennie repeated. “Wait. Please!” Pennie grabbed the red cuff on Tink’s long sleeve.
Tink glared at her.
“Sorry,” Pennie dropped it. “I’ll go.”
Tink considered her. “Is this your final answer?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Tink reversed toward the monitoring station. Pennie caught a look at one of the screens as she passed it; massive clouds were colliding somewhere and the Fair Force in the room were laser focused on it.
“I’ll be right back,” Tink said before disappearing into the wall.
Pennie walked closer to the monitors. Whatever was brewing in the skies above Earth looked sinister.
Tink reappeared. “The only thing you need to take with you is this time device.”
“A watch?”
“You’re familiar with them?”
“Sure. Is that a dinosaur?”
There was a purple dinosaur in the center.
“We can’t send you down with any of our technology in case it gets into the wrong hands.” Tink handed Pennie the watch. “So we copied some of the watches we’ve seen the clients wear.”
“Really young clients, you mean. A toddler maybe?”
Tink brushed away the idea. “It’s programmed on stopwatch mode for forty-eight ho
urs and will begin at eight a.m. Earth time.”
A large clock on the wall displayed: EARTH TIME 7:58 a.m.
“That’s in two minutes!”
Tink continued, unfazed. “The Fair Force will arrive at the forty-eight hour mark. If your client has signed the form by then, she will be taken into temporary custody where her element will be properly deleted. After which, she will be returned to her regular, un-elemented life on Earth. She’ll be just a regular kid with no recollection of ever being able to create wind.”
Pennie nodded.
“If she has not signed the form by then,” Tink eyes softened. “Well, you know.”
Pennie slipped on the stopwatch.
“Where are my instructions?”
“No instructions.” Tink smoothed down some of her loose red hair.
Pennie blinked at her. “What about clothes?”
“We don’t have access to their wardrobes. You’ll have to figure that out when you get there.”
Pennie shook her head. “That’s it? That’s all you have to tell me?”
“There is one more thing. The stopwatch will buzz sixty minutes before the forty-eight-hour time period is up. And it will do so again at the ten-minute, three-minute, and thirty-second mark. You and your client should be as far away from anyone else as possible when the Fair Force arrives so fewer memories will need to be erased.”
The clock on the wall read: EARTH TIME 7:59 a.m.
Tink pulled the crystal eight off from around her neck and pushed open a door. Behind it was a set of elevator doors. “This is the travel box. Once you step inside, the temporary disintegration will begin. You’ll need to stay completely still during this process. When the doors open again, you should be at nineteen Nathan Lane, or somewhere around there, anyway.”
Pennie’s mouth went dry. This was ridiculous. No instructions, no tools, no pants.
Tink slipped the crystal eight directly into the elevator doors and turned it like a key. As soon as the travel box opened, she ushered Pennie in.
“Earth is a perfectly safe place to be, once gravity is dealt with. Although it is rather hard to stay awake down there. I’ve heard of entire trips spent sleeping. Imagine that journey and then never even waking up!” She pointed to the ceiling. “Just remember to stand directly under the laser and stay as still as you can. You’ll want to arrive in one piece.”
“Code Red. Repeat: We have a Code Red. Irregular activity spotted. Renegade Weathers suspected. All Force in the area to respond immediately.”
An alarm drowned out Tink’s next words.
“What’s happening?” Pennie shouted. The doors were shutting.
“Security Breach. You better get going before they suspend all travel. Good luck!”
The doors closed.
The stopwatch beeped on.
12
48:00:00
Fair City
Inside the travel box, a thick beam of light flickered above Pennie’s head. Her fingers and toes started to tingle. The sensation slid up her arms and down her legs. She gritted her teeth, trying not to move. The travel box began to shake and the laser burned hotter. Pennie’s head felt like it might explode. She stifled a scream and then …
The laser blacked out.
The elevator doors broke apart.
Command Center was in chaos. Hologram monitors were blinking and Fair Force were scrambling toward the exit. Everywhere, floors were cracking and walls were crumbling.
Pennie rushed through the elevator doors. “Tink?” she yelled. But Tink was nowhere to be seen.
The stopwatch read 47:59:20. She inspected it closer. There was no pause button. The floor below her rumbled and buckled. She jumped off just before it cracked open. A meter away, she spotted something glowing under a pile of debris.
Tink’s crystal eight.
“Tink!” Pennie yelled, swiping it up. “Tinktoria, are you in here?”
There was no answer and she couldn’t be heard over the alarm anyway. She slid the crystal eight into her pocket. The wall in front of her crumbled. The exit was blocked.
Pennie fought her way over to center stage where Fair Force were shouting orders at the largest screen. It was a live picture of a building on fire. Surrounding it, trees toppled and roads buckled. Cars sped out of control and everywhere, people were running, covered in dust. Pennie was witnessing an earthquake.
“Has anyone seen Tinktoria?” she yelled.
“Contact initiated,” a computer-generated voice sounded over the loudspeaker.
The center screen changed to a busy city sidewalk with a group of businessmen and women walking together. They all popped in earbuds without breaking their stride. “We can hear you, Commander. Go on,” one of the businessmen said.
“Very good,” the commander yelled. “We are seeing heavy fire in an occupied building. We need your group of elementals to deploy to 34.0500 degrees South 118.2500 degrees West immediately. We believe we are having simultaneous attacks both here and in Southern California.”
“We’re on our way, Commander,” the businessman said.
The floor below Pennie gave way. She grabbed onto a wall. On screen, the elementals slipped left down a side street and huddled together. A moment later, they lifted off from the cement. Without propellers. Which meant someone in that group had the wind element. That would have been Tenley someday, Pennie couldn’t help thinking. But now she’d be lucky just to stay on Earth, alive. If Pennie could get to her in time.
Pennie checked the stopwatch. 47:57:50. She banged on the dinosaur face. “Stop already!” It didn’t.
Pennie made her way over to a Fair Force stationed in front of his keyboard.
“Excuse me, can you help me with that?” She pointed back to the travel box.
The Fair Force scowled. “It’s Code Red. All travel is suspended.”
“Where’s Tink?”
“Who?”
“Tinktoria,” she shouted. “From Room Seventy-one?”
“Not my department.”
Pennie lifted the stopwatch to him. “Could you stop it, please?”
He shook his head. “Don’t handle Fair One equipment.”
“But this is an emergency!”
The keyboard in front of the Fair Force exploded. He flew sideways and directly into Pennie. Before she knew what had happened, she felt herself falling through the floor.
13
47:50:01
Earth
“What was that?” A girl panicked at the sink.
“It felt like an earthquake,” a voice answered from one of the stalls.
“I’m getting out of here,” the girl said, turning off the water and sprinting for the door.
Unfazed, Tenley picked up the lipstick that she’d dropped and watched the girl go. She smacked her lips and smiled at herself. Then she pushed open the girl’s bathroom door and—slam!
“Ow.” Holden Wonderbolt grabbed his head.
Tenley flipped her hair. “Sorry. No pictures.”
“What?”
“Well, okay, one.” Tenley froze in a fierce pose.
Holden stared at her. Then checked behind him. No one taking pictures anywhere.
“Hey, you’ve got a thing?”
Tenley pointed to her sash. “Vote for Me, Tenley T. I’m trying … ugh stop it Tenley!” She gave herself a mental shake. “Positive thinking, positive thinking.” She stood straighter and smiled. “I’m going to get nominated for America’s Next Most Inspirational Teen.”
“No, I mean—” Holden pointed down. “You’ve got a situation there.”
Tenley looked at the toilet paper stuck to her beige flats.
“Oh.” Mortified, she scraped her foot off on a nearby trash bin and waved. “Thank you, voter.”
“Yeah. No problem,” Holden called after her. “Hey! Was everything okay yesterday? After that Frisbee almost hit you? No bruises or anything? Because I—” He raise
d his blue cast but Tenley was already halfway down the hall. “Got this.”
The bell rang and Tenley disappeared into the crowded cafeteria. Not even the smell of syrup was cheering Holden up today.
“What’s the face, Wonderbolt? It’s Waffle Day!” Someone slapped him on the back.
“Hey, Coach Bleaker.” Holden jogged to keep up with him. “You think I’ll be okay by play-offs?”
Coach Bleaker noticed his cast. “Geez, I don’t know, Wonderbolt. In a week? I’m not a doc, but I’m pretty sure it takes six weeks for bones to heal.”
Holden’s face fell. He dropped back a few paces.
“But,” Coach Bleaker said, turning into the cafeteria, “tell you what. I could use some help on the sidelines. They don’t pay me enough to be the assistant coach, too.”
Coach Bleaker headed over to the faculty table. Holden stepped into the waffle line. Tenley was four students up in the same line, behind a small redhead.
A boy in front of the redhead stepped back and landed on her foot.
“Ow,” the redhead yelped.
“Omigod.” Tenley hurried over and pulled the girl into a hug. “Are you okay, ginger?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t look like it.” Tenley straightened her sash and prepared for battle. “Hey! Football player guy. Did you just attack this ginger’s lower body?”
“Um, no,” the boy answered with a frown.
Tenley stepped closer to him. “Did you or did you not just step on her foot?”
“I dunno. Maybe, I guess.”
“Maybe? Look at this ginger’s face. Look how sad it is!”
“It’s Andrea. And I’m fine,” the girl whispered.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, ginger.”
The boy, definitely a football player, shook his head and moved forward in the line.
“Wait a minute,” Tenley said. “What’s your name?”
“Ah, Collin?”
“Everyone? Can I have your attention please?” A few of the students looked up from their tables. Tenley pointed to her sash. “Tenley Tylwyth, running for America’s Next Most Inspirational Teen. As most of you know, I’m running my campaign on the confidence-building effects of nail art. But I’ve also just, right now, witnessed a real life injustice with this ginger-crusher.”