8

Chapter 22 – Beyond Arcadia

Jane awoke to the soft hush of dawn filtering through the forest canopy. Dew clung to the broad leaves around them, beads of moisture catching the first light. She lay still for a moment on the mossy ground, listening to the gentle drip of condensation and the distant chorus of alien birds. The air was cool and carried the faintest hint of ozone and greenery. For a second, it was peaceful – a simple morning in a quiet wood – and Jane could almost pretend they were just campers greeting a new day. But the illusion shattered as soon as she shifted and winced at the ache in her limbs. Every bruise and muscle throb reminded her: they were fugitives, exhausted and bruised from a harrowing escape that had delivered them to this forest beyond Arcadia's outskirts.

She pushed herself up on one elbow. Nearby, the others were beginning to stir. Vale was already awake, seated against the trunk of an ancient tree with one hand massaging his shoulder – the same shoulder that had been battered during their frantic climb over Blackstone's outer wall hours ago. Mira sat cross-legged a few paces away, the early sun playing in her dark curls as she inspected a bundle of leaves in her lap. She had insisted on foraging before dawn, returning with herbs and roots she said could help with pain and energy. Kei was quieter, standing at the edge of their little grove as if on guard, his eyes half-closed and attuned to the subtle tremors of the ground. And Ray – Jane spotted him perched on a fallen log, scribbling notes in the margins of what looked like a torn manual, likely something he'd salvaged from Blackstone's archives or their stolen tablet.

Jane's gaze swept over her friends – for that's what they had become, she realized with a small swell of emotion – and she felt an unexpected warmth. Just days ago, they had all been strangers confined in a secret prison; now they were allies bound by survival and something stronger. She remembered how, the previous night at sea, they had taken turns staring up at the stars with childlike wonder, each of them tasting freedom for the first time in years. It had been the first moment of true peace any of them felt – floating under a starry sky, no walls or electric bars, only the gentle rocking of the waves. Jane had reached out then with her mind, reflexively, and sensed only awe and hope in her companions' thoughts, untainted by fear or despair. After so long surrounded by anguish and dread in Blackstone, the clarity of their shared wonder had nearly moved her to tears.

Now that morning calm was giving way to reality. Jane gingerly stretched, trying not to rustle too many leaves. Her clothes were still damp from the night's dew, and beneath the earth-toned flax cloak Mira had woven for each of them, she could feel the rough fabric of her Blackstone-issue jumpsuit. They had done their best to alter those prisoner uniforms: cutting off serial tags, covering logos with strips of bark cloth, and the night before, Vale had even taken the desperate step of burning off the barcode tattoos from each of their forearms using a heated piece of scrap metal. Jane glanced at Vale's arm now; a raw pink patch of freshly healed skin marked where his prisoner code had been. Mira's ointments and careful herb poultices had ensured they wouldn't get infected, but the scarring was still evident. Each of them bore a similar mark. Jane's own wrist was wrapped in a strip of Mira's woven fiber to protect her burn. It was a grim sort of liberation, she mused: purging the branding of their captivity with fire. The memory of Vale's steely resolve as he'd pressed the hot metal to his and then to each of theirs in turn still sent a shiver through her. She remembered how she had stood by, gritting her teeth through the pain, using a small illusion to conceal the fire's glow from any distant drones that might be searching for them in the dark. They had dared not even light a proper campfire, relying instead on Mira's knowledge of plants and Ray's quick improvisation to handle these makeshift surgeries under the cover of Jane's powers.

Suppressing a groan, Jane rose to her feet. Immediately, Vale's eyes flicked to her, always alert. In the dawn light, the hard planes of his face looked a touch softer, but his posture remained vigilant. "How's the head?" he asked quietly, tilting his own head as if feeling an echo of her strain. Of course Vale would ask – he had seen the toll Jane's psychic and illusionary onslaughts had taken on her during their escape. He himself had nearly collapsed after unleashing his electromagnetic pulse to knock out those swarming drones, and Jane had practically fallen into his arms in exhaustion after stretching her powers to cloak them all from the warden's hunter drones immediately afterward. They'd propped each other up more than once on the journey out.

Jane managed a small smile. "Better," she lied gently. In truth, a dull ache throbbed behind her eyes – the lingering hangover from pushing her illusion abilities to new extremes the day before. Splitting five decoy clones of themselves, bending light to hide their sprint across the prison yard, mentally jamming a sniper's senses – it had stretched her to a limit she hadn't known she had. Even now, after some rest, she felt a slight tremor in her hands and a bone-deep fatigue that sleep hadn't fully cured. But she didn't want the others worrying. They depended on her powers perhaps more than they realized, and Jane was determined not to let them down.

He nodded, accepting her answer for now. Around them, the others were gathering. Mira approached with a handful of leaves. "Chew this," she offered to Jane with a kind smile. "Willow bark and some local herb – should help with any headache." Jane took the bitter, fibrous wad and began to chew, grimacing at the taste. Mira had been delighted to discover that many plants here responded to her subtle influence; overnight she had guided creeping vines to form lean-to shelters and coaxed a particular moss to exude extra moisture for them to drink. The forest itself seemed eager to assist Mira, as if recognizing one of its own.

Ray hopped off his log, tucking the manual into his fraying satchel. He looked around at the group, adjusting his glasses. "I think that's the last of whatever passes for dawn patrol," he said, jerking a thumb upwards. Jane followed his gesture to the sky visible through the treetops. It was hard to see in the growing daylight, but she caught a brief glint – something metallic had just streaked high above them, disappearing toward the horizon. Drones. Perhaps a patrol drone or some automated security craft had flown over while they rested, and Ray had kept watch.

"Any close calls?" Vale asked Ray, frowning.

Ray shook his head. "Not this time. It was pretty high altitude. Possibly a satellite-linked sweeper, doing thermal scans." He said it matter-of-factly, but Jane noticed a crease of worry on his brow. The Coalition would not be giving up easily – not after what they had pulled off. Their escape from Blackstone Vault had been nothing short of historic. According to the data Ray had skimmed from the warden's communications, no prison break of that magnitude had ever succeeded in modern times. The Coalition's records indicated that their jailbreak was the largest breach in at least six hundred years, and Coalition hunter units had been immediately rerouted to track them down. Six centuries – that number had stuck in Jane's head. The Coalition had maintained an iron grip on its secret facilities for so long that the idea anyone could slip through was unthinkable. And yet, they had done it. We did the impossible.

Of course, that also meant the full weight of the Coalition's covert forces would be bearing down on them now. As Jane brushed a stray leaf from her cloak, she chewed the bitter herbs and considered their predicament. The Coalition would not risk a public manhunt – Arcadia and its sister cities were supposed to be perfect utopias with "no poverty, no crime", after all. Admitting that a group of enhanced prisoners had escaped a secret black site would shatter that idyllic facade. So there would be no news bulletins or wanted posters. Instead, their hunters would move in the shadows. Blackstone won't involve local law — they'll send covert operatives, she remembered from a snippet of Ray's intel. Already drones and satellites were sweeping the wilderness quietly, and plainclothes agents would be combing transit routes without fanfare. The public in Arcadia would remain blissfully unaware that five dangerous fugitives were in their midst. The thought was oddly double-edged – on one hand, it meant the group could move through civilian areas with less immediate risk of recognition; on the other, it meant any friendly face on the street could secretly be a Coalition asset in disguise. They would trust no one but each other.

Vale cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright," he said, his voice low but steady. "We need to talk about what's next." He looked at each of them in turn. Despite the fatigue evident on their faces, one by one they gave small nods. They all understood – resting time was over. The question of their next move loomed.

"Staying here in the forest isn't an option," Vale continued. He spoke calmly, but there was an undercurrent of urgency. "The longer we linger, the more likely they pinpoint us. Ray, you mentioned thermal scans?"

Ray pushed his glasses up, nodding. "Yes. They've likely retasked at least one satellite for infrared sweeps of the area. Standard pattern after an escape: expand the search radius kilometer by kilometer. They'll use drones and orbital eyes to comb the wilderness. We masked our heat signature last night well enough, but in daylight…" He trailed off, and everyone could imagine the plume of warmth five human bodies would make against the cool forest on a satellite's thermal imaging.

"We'll stick out like a bonfire," Kei muttered. It was rare for him to speak up; his voice was soft, but the statement was grim. Jane felt a pang of tension twist in her stomach. Kei was right. By midday, unless they had serious cover or were far from here, the satellites would catch the anomaly of their heat profiles.

Mira looked around at the dense foliage and rays of sunlight stabbing through mist. "I can ask the trees to shade us more, but unless we literally bury ourselves in mud…" She left the rest unsaid. Mira's gift could camouflage them to an extent – last night she'd even coaxed some broad ferns to grow an extra layer over their lean-tos – but plants could only do so much against high-altitude surveillance.

"No, we can't just hide indefinitely," Vale agreed. "We need to keep moving. Put distance between us and Blackstone. Make their search zone as big as possible."

He paused, then exhaled and said the harder part: "But even that won't save us, not for long. Not on this planet." His eyes shifted toward the faint outline of something beyond the trees. Jane followed his gaze. There, through a break in the canopy, a distant skyline was visible against the morning haze – elegant and gleaming. Arcadia. The city stood many kilometers away, but the tallest structures – perhaps solar spires or skyrise farms – glinted with glass and metal in the sunlight. The sight made Jane's chest tighten with complicated feelings. Arcadia was beautiful, almost ethereally so, rising like an emerald-and-silver beacon of civilization from the verdant landscape. It was said to glow with eco-tech splendor, a model city in this "Peaceful Dawn" era. This was a place purported to have ended poverty and crime, a living advertisement of humanity's utopian future. But Jane knew better; they all did. That shining city ran on a lie. Its peace and prosperity had been built on invisible pillars of suffering – on the exploitation of people like them. The Coalition had been financing Arcadia's idyllic existence using the fruits of secret research, knowledge stripped from imprisoned Gifted over centuries. Free housing, abundant food, clean energy – all that wonderful "utopia engine" of Arcadia runs on stolen lives. Jane felt a flicker of anger, but she doused it. Now wasn't the time.

Vale continued, his eyes still on the city. "No matter where we run on this world, the Coalition has the advantage. Surveillance, infrastructure, manpower – you name it. They'll track us eventually. The only way to truly be safe…" He took a breath. "...might be to get off this world entirely."

A silence fell. The forest seemed to hush as well, as if in reaction. A small woodland creature skittered through the underbrush nearby, oblivious to the significance of Vale's words.

"Off this world?" Mira echoed, breaking the quiet. She tilted her head, as if trying to picture it. "You mean…leave the planet?" She didn't sound incredulous – Mira had seen enough fantastical things in her life, Jane thought, that the notion of space travel wasn't unbelievable – but she sounded wary, perhaps intimidated by the scale of that idea.

Kei turned from the perimeter and finally faced the group. "Interstellar travel," he murmured. "Do we even have access to something like that? I mean, here and now?"

Vale shifted, standing up a bit straighter despite the wince that crossed his face (his shoulder still pained him, clearly). "Think about it," he said, gesturing toward Arcadia's skyline. "With technology as advanced as Arcadia's, there has to be some kind of spaceport or shuttle system. They've developed everything else. We know from bits and pieces that there are outer colonies, other star systems with human outposts. Cargo must be going back and forth. They wouldn't keep all of humanity cooped up on Earth if they have the means to expand – not the Coalition, not when they can profit from new frontiers." His eyes flashed with determination. "So yes, I mean exactly that: we find a way off-planet. It might be our best shot at staying ahead of them."

A heavy pause followed as everyone considered the proposal. Off-planet… to escape beyond the Coalition's immediate reach. It was an audacious plan. It was also dangerous and riddled with unknowns. Yet Jane could see the spark it lit in each of them. In Ray's eyes, behind the wariness, there was a glimmer of curiosity – of hope, even. Mira was absently twisting a leaf between her fingers, her gaze distant as she imagined distant worlds. Kei's brow was furrowed, practical concerns undoubtedly running through his mind, but he offered no objection.

It was Ray who spoke next, his tone cautious but thoughtful. "If there are outer colonies, there must indeed be cargo ships or transports coming and going. Likely not publicized to the average citizen, but the infrastructure would exist. The Coalition would want resources from other worlds, or to send their tech out there." He gave a quick nod. "Arcadia being as high-tech as it is, I'd bet it has a spaceport, even if they call it something else, perhaps integrated into a trade hub or a corporate launch facility."

Jane pressed her lips together, keeping silent, though her heart rate had picked up. She knew Ray and Vale were right – more than they realized. Fragments of memory nagged at her: images of sleek orbital shuttles, a launchpad hidden in an Arcadian industrial zone, manifest schedules with destinations that certainly weren't on Earth. With her recovering memories from her time as the Architect – the very designer of Blackstone's systems – had also come knowledge of many classified projects. She knew interstellar travel existed, because the Coalition had used it to transfer particularly sensitive assets off-world at times. In fact, she had once overseen security for a secret shuttle launch moving "cargo" (in truth, test subjects) to an outlying research colony. The memory made her stomach turn now.

Yes, they were right. If they could get to a spaceport, they might slip away from Earth entirely. Beyond the Coalition's easy reach. Jane's rational mind whirred – off-world, the Coalition's surveillance net might be sparser; jurisdictional issues or sheer distance could slow the pursuit. And out there, in the vastness of space and colony worlds, five fugitives could vanish among millions, perhaps.

She realized the others were looking at her, as if awaiting her opinion. Perhaps they sensed she had insight. Jane schooled her expression to neutrality, not wanting to reveal too much. "It… stands to reason," she said carefully. "Arcadia's known as a center of innovation. If anywhere has off-world capabilities, it would be here or one of its sister cities. We saw signs of pretty advanced tech even in that small town last night." She nodded toward Ray, validating his point without adding anything new of her own. Inside, however, her emotions churned. Part of her felt a thrill at the idea of reaching the stars – a hope of true freedom, putting light-years between them and their captors. But another part felt dread. Going off-world meant stepping even further into the unknown. And if her past truly was entwined with the Coalition's darkest secrets as it now appeared… would leaving the planet even free her from that legacy? Or would it only be a temporary escape from a truth she would eventually have to face?

One thing at a time, she told herself.

Mira's gentle voice cut into Jane's thoughts. "If we do this," Mira said, "if we manage to get off Earth… what about Blackstone? What about everyone still trapped there?" Her eyes glistened with emotion. It was clear she felt a pang of guilt even considering running so far away. "We can't just forget them, all those people in that prison, and others like it."

"Of course not," Vale answered quickly. He stepped forward and touched Mira's shoulder reassuringly. "We haven't forgotten. And we won't. But we can't help anyone if we're recaptured. We got lucky escaping once; we might not get another chance. If staying free means a trip off-world, then that's what we have to do. Live to fight another day." He looked around at all of them, his gaze firm. "Once we're safe, beyond the Coalition's immediate grasp, then we can figure out how to expose them. How to come back with a plan to break those places for good, or help others escape. But first, we survive. We get ourselves in a position of strength."

There were solemn nods. Even Mira, though clearly saddened at the thought of leaving others behind, set her jaw in determination. "You're right," she conceded softly. "We have to survive first. Then we'll find a way to help them. Even if it means coming back with an army, or revealing the truth to the whole world." Her green eyes flashed at that last idea. The notion of exposing the Coalition's crimes clearly resonated with her revolutionary spirit.

Ray managed a tired smile. "I have a feeling if we can reach some civilized port off-world, I might know a way to broadcast what we found in Blackstone's data vaults. Maybe not back to Earth, but there are networks out there too." His eyes were distant for a moment, likely recalling some fragment of information – as the team's eidetic memory and archivist, Ray had consumed countless data bits during their escape. "We have options. But let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Right," Vale agreed. "First step: get to the spaceport, quietly. Second: get on a ship." A faint, wry grin touched his lips. "Third: don't get caught. Fourth: blast off."

Kei actually chuckled under his breath at Vale's simplistic breakdown, and Jane found herself smiling despite the gravity. Vale's ability to bring a bit of levity had grown on them all. It was good to remember how to smile.

"Do we know where this spaceport is?" Kei asked. Ever the practical one, he glanced toward Arcadia's skyline. "Arcadia's a big city. We can't just wander around asking where the spaceships take off."

Ray tapped the side of his temple. "I recall a reference to something in the Arcadia infrastructure called the 'Arcology Transit Hub' – sounds innocuous, like a normal airport or train station name, but it had sub-designations that correspond to orbital flight pads. There was mention of cargo deliveries to 'outer colonies' in a tech journal I read some time ago." He looked at Jane as he said that, and for a heartbeat she wondered if he suspected she might have more information. His eyes were curious behind those glasses.

She realized she should contribute something. Slipping her hands into the pockets of her cloak, she cleared her throat. "Maybe we can confirm its location once we get closer. There might be public info terminals in the town or outskirts. Or signage. A place handling off-world cargo would need infrastructure – likely on the city's outskirts or a dedicated zone. We should look for something like industrial freight yards or launch tethers rising into the sky."

Vale nodded at that. "Agreed. We head toward Arcadia, but carefully. We don't go straight into the city center – that's too risky with all the surveillance. We skirt around to find this transit hub or spaceport."

Ray rubbed his chin. "Arcadia's transit systems are probably heavily monitored. We should probably avoid the main public transit, like those driverless pods we saw. They likely require ID scans for access."

At the mention of IDs, Jane's mind was already working. In modern Arcadia, every citizen and visitor likely carried some form of digital identity beacon – a small implant or wearable transmitting their ID, used for everything from boarding a bus to accessing buildings. She remembered how everything in Arcadia was seamless and automated: citizens simply walked onto a tram or into a store and the sensors would identify them, deducting credits or granting access invisibly. It was convenient – and a tracking nightmare for someone like them without legitimate ID. Five unidentified humans wandering around would stick out. They had solved the immediate problem of their prisoner barcodes, but they had no legal identities in the outside world. They would have to fool the systems.

"We'll need to falsify identity beacons for ourselves, at least temporarily," Jane said softly. "We can't broadcast as ghosts, or the system will flag an anomaly." She saw the others exchange looks – broadcasting as ghosts? She realized not all of them might know the details of Arcadia's surveillance web.

"In Arcadia, and probably even in that town down there, everything scans you," she explained. "If you're not broadcasting a recognized ID signal, the networks notice. They might not send human police after you right away, but automated systems might start tracking you as an 'unknown'. Cameras, drones – they'll quietly build a pattern. We don't want that."

Vale raised an eyebrow. "You seem to know a lot about how Arcadia runs." His tone was gentle, but inquisitive. Jane immediately felt a spike of anxiety. She forced herself to shrug casually.

"I… read about it," she lied, hating that she had to. "Arcadia's famous. They publish articles bragging about their smart-city tech. It's not a secret that everyone uses a digital ID there." That was plausible enough. It even had a grain of truth – Arcadia did love to tout its high-tech integration in public press. Vale seemed to accept the answer with a nod, not pressing further. Jane felt Mira's eyes on her though – compassionate and perhaps a bit concerned, as if Mira sensed Jane's inner turmoil but didn't know its cause. Jane quickly looked away, busying herself by adjusting the strap of the small satchel she carried.

Ray held up the slim tablet-like device he carried – the same one he had hacked back in Blackstone to help guide them through the complex. Miraculously it had survived their wild sea journey; Ray had waterproofed its innards with a polymer sleeve (he'd thought of it before their jump). "I might be able to jury-rig some identity beacons for us with this," he said. "At least something that will look plausible to passive scans. I've been sifting through some code this morning." He offered a lopsided grin. "Figured we'd need a digital cover."

Jane smiled at him, genuine admiration in her eyes. "You figured right." Ray had likely been up since before dawn working on that while they slept – it would be just like him. His eidetic memory and quick mind made him our de facto hacker, and he clearly relished the challenge. She felt a swell of gratitude and fondness for the young man who once barely spoke in Blackstone; freedom had animated him with a new confidence.

"Alright," Vale said, rubbing his hands together briskly as if to summon energy. "Let's map out the immediate route. We're here" – he pointed to the ground, then swept his hand eastward – "Arcadia's roughly that way, beyond this town. The small town is maybe a few kilometers from us, on the coast or river, wherever we landed. We saw buildings and lights last night in that direction."

Mira nodded. "Yes, I could see some street lights when I climbed that ridge at pre-dawn. It's not far." She hesitated. "It looked… peaceful. Cute houses, maybe a port or dock. And beyond it, further inland, the lights of Arcadia itself glowing." Her voice had a tone of awe. After years in an underground prison, seeing even a small town alive with normal life must have been moving.

"Town means people, and tech," Kei said. "We'll have to blend in if we go there. Are we doing that? Or are we skirting it entirely?"

Vale considered. "We need supplies and transport. A town is our best bet to quietly acquire those. If we try to just hoof it all the way to the spaceport, we risk too many hours in the open. I'd rather have a vehicle – something enclosed that can move faster and maybe shield our signatures."

Ray agreed. "Yes. A vehicle could get us to the spaceport in maybe an hour instead of a day's walking. And if it's enclosed, we can mask our heat and presence more easily. I might even be able to tweak its transponder to give false readings."

Jane found herself nodding. They were on the same wavelength. "So we go into town," she summarized. "We gather what we need: information, maybe some clothing or gear to fit in, and most importantly, a vehicle. Then we head for the spaceport."

Vale gave a thin smile. "That's the plan. We improvise details as needed. Everyone stay sharp and stick together. If anything goes wrong—"

"Fade and regroup," Kei finished the thought. It had become one of their agreed tactics: if discovered, they'd use Jane's illusions or any means necessary to break line of sight and then rendezvous at a pre-decided point.