Now that Utopia Betrayed is out, I thought I’d let my loyal readers get a peek at the first chapter of the second book in the series, Utopia Abandoned. So here goes:

Part 1

Escape

Chapter 1

Cradled between two tree branches, I don’t move a muscle.

Twenty feet below, a dozen uniformed guards—Jupiter’s personal AI brigade—have fanned out.

No doubt they’ve been ordered to find me and drag me back to Jupiter, our Supreme Leader—dead or alive. My pulse drums in my ears.

Once a privileged Principal Artisan and Master Citizen in our domed city, I designed one-of-a-kind jewelry. Now I’m a fugitive, hiding in a tree to avoid Jupiter’s net, a net that’s slowly, inexorably closing around me.

Clambering up this tree was more difficult today because I’m getting weaker. The Serum-18 or S-18 nanobots—DNA-enhancing machines in my bloodstream—are dying. I was supposed to get my third infusion of the power-boosting serum yesterday. Instead I ran from Jupiter’s control before he could force me to spy on my friends.

Good friends like Andor, a fellow rebel. His image pops into my head—handsome symmetrical face, wavy blond hair, an enigmatic smile. But whether the AIs get me or nanobot depletion hastens my demise, my dreams of a future, maybe even with Andor, will likely die with me.

Don’t fool yourself, Faron. You’re going to get caught. When he was alive, my father, a Mining Laborer, used every opportunity to mock me. Now I can’t get his voice out of my head.

He has a point. I’ve been lucky to avoid capture so far. But my time is running out.

Mercilessly and methodically, Jupiter’s army stabs the undergrowth with the butts of their stun guns. Each stomp of their heavy boots causes the pine branch where I’m perched to vibrate. Cringing, I cling tighter to the rough bark. Sweat inches down my back.

I definitely need to find somewhere else to hide.

Nearby, a squirrel chatters, then barks to signal danger. I fight to keep my breathing slow and shallow.

The guards flush out a rabbit, and I mouth the words, “Run, rabbit, run. Get as far away as you can.” It bounds off, unscathed.

I’d run too, if I could. But I’m cocooned inside an anti-thermal sheet. Through the one-way material, I can view those emotionless machines. But they can’t see me, not even my heat signature. At least that’s what Andor told me when he gave me this tech. Still I’m scared witless.

But things could be worse. I could be stuck outside the Dome, in an area we call the Wilderness. Nobody really knows what’s left out there after Earth’s global war—the Horror beyond all Horrors. Many speculate that radiation has made our planet rife with “terrors beyond imagination,” as one Institute teacher put it.

Directly below me, the AI yells, “Halt!” and they all freeze. So do I.

He looks up, right at me. My breath catches in my throat.

Did he see movement through the leaves? Did the branch creak? Am I covered well enough?

Silent seconds stretch into what seem like minutes. Worried my pounding pulse will give me away, I elevate my gaze skyward to the translucent Dome that protects all New Caledonians, as well as these trees, from the dangers of a planet ravaged by war.

God, if you’re out there, help me!

Since I escaped New Caledon, Jupiter’s guards have scoured this forest for me. Their arrival is always heralded by breaking branches and ground-shaking footfalls, which gives me time to scurry up the nearest large tree. You’d think these highly advanced, human-looking robots would try to sneak up on me. But they’re not meant to think independently. They’ve been programmed to follow our Supreme Leader’s commands, no matter what.

“She must be in the trees,” the guard shouts. “Shoot the branches!”

My senses are immediately bombarded.

Flashes of blue plasma.

Snaps and clicks.

Whiffs of burning wood.

Clatters from sheared-off branches as they drop onto the sheet’s slick surface.

Will those fallen branches expose my position?

Like a rat in a trap, I start to shake. If the pine needles around me weren’t quivering from the brutal barrage, my trembling would give me away.

One loud zap sizzles nearby, and my heartrate punches into high gear.

Just when I thank my lucky stars I wasn’t hit, a searing, excruciating shock shoots up my leg. My whole body freezes, from toes to scalp.

I’ve been shot.

Don’t know why people think prayer is so beneficial. Every time I ask God for something, I seem to get into deeper trouble.

My muscles contract with painful spasms. Even my heart dances and then falters. I bite my tongue.

My fingers twitch. My grip loosens. My vision darkens.

I slip from the branch. The protective sheet stays snarled in the tree, leaving me uncovered. As I plummet downward, air whooshes past my ears. Branches tear at my green cloak.

I smash into the ground with a bone-splitting thud. Every wisp of air is knocked from my lungs. My brain rattles around inside my skull like an out-of-control mining car. I struggle to inhale. To exhale.

When I finally open my eyes, a blurry seven-foot guard—bulbous-nosed, fat-lipped, with dark pits for eyes—hovers over me. Like Death himself.

Muscles paralyzed, I’m helpless, my body a numb lump of clay.

This is it. My life’s over, I tell myself in my head.

With an erratic rat-tat-tat, my heart starts beating again. Nausea sweeps over me.

As if he’s at the far end of a mine tunnel, the guard shouts to the others, “We got her. Jupiter will be pleased.”

I wait for the AI to pick me up in his cold, synthetic arms. Or stomp on me. Or yank out my fingernails. Or do whatever else Jupiter has ordered. I close my eyes, not wanting to see what’s coming next.

But nothing happens. A grisly deep silence fills the forest.

Finally, I dare to open my eyes again. Slightly bent, the bulky AI towers over me, frozen where he stands, his stun gun still pointed at my head.

My muscle spasms subside. When my vision clears, I can move my eyes and head a millimeter or two, so I peer sideways at the other AIs. Those in my line of vision are statue-like as well.

Suddenly exhausted, I start to shiver. Must be adrenaline wearing off, or else I’m in shock.Do I have a concussion? Broken bones?

The chitters from squirrels and chipmunks gradually resume. No fake bird sounds though, like Jupiter has added to our city’s hubbub. With the exceptions of chickens and turkeys cloned for food, birds weren’t among the species that survived the Horror. At least that’s what we were told.

The ground vibrates. Approaching footfalls thump louder and louder in my head. What’s coming for me now? I’d cringe, if I could move.

With a bag slung over one shoulder, a masked, black-cloaked figure dashes toward me, dodging trees and bushes with lithe movements, unlike the stilted motions of AIs. Could this be an actual human?

“Faron?” A bass voice chokes out my name, more of a plea than a shout.

Afraid he won’t see me, I want to cry, “Help! Over here!” But any kind of verbalization is presently impossible.

“There you are!” He bends over my inert body, breathing hard. “Gotta hurry…. Don’t have much time….Jabari can’t keep Jupiter’s minions on pause forever.” At the mention of my friend and neighbor’s name, my savior removes his mask and drops it into a pocket.

The face is Andor’s! I breathe a sigh of profound relief. He once promised I’d always be safe with him.

“Hope this doesn’t hurt.” He grabs my arms and slowly slides me out from beneath the hovering AI and lifts me from the forest floor. Even though I’m as stiff as a dead branch, some sensation has returned. But so far, I’m not in any pain.

Adjusting his backpack to one side, Andor hefts me over his right shoulder, as if I weigh nothing. I’m not surprised. Like me, he’s on S-18.

I inhale his clean, familiar scent and revel in his warmth.

He bolts away, dodging motionless AIs left and right. My head bounces up and down in rhythm to Andor’s loping gait. The pinecone-covered ground whizzes past, his boots a black blur beneath me. As he weaves between trees and bushes, the sun strains through the translucent Dome and stabs the shadowy tree canopy with shafts of light. Pine needles poke into my scalp and pull at my hair.

“Gaao,” I groan. I’m trying to say, “go bag,” but I sound like a frog being electrocuted. My camouflaged pack—containing food, water and other necessities—is still back in the tree. Fortunately, it’s well hidden in the branches, and AIs can’t climb.

Amazingly, Andor understands what I’m trying to say. While skirting some rocks, he huffs, “I’ll come back for your go bag…once you’re out of harm’s way.”

I have so many questions swirling around in my head, none of which I’m able to ask. How’d he find me? How’d he know the exact moment I needed him most? What’s his plan to hide me?

Andor stumbles, then stops. He shifts my weight higher on his shoulder and adds breathlessly, “You’re probably wondering how I found you.” He inhales deeply, again and again. “Your locator pen was activated this morning…so we monitored your whereabouts.”

I’d forgotten about the emergency beacon/pocket light kept in a cloak pocket that the Separatists—underground rebels—gave me when I joined them. In my struggle to get up the tree and hide, I must have accidentally activated it. Which probably saved my life.

“When our monitoring equipment showed Jupiter’s AI guards on the hunt for you…” He takes off at a run again. “I hopped on the train to get here….Then by walkie… Jabari informed me the signals had converged.” He takes a heavy breath. “So he paused the guards’ programming….” Clearing his throat, he adds, “At that point, I wasn’t far from you.”

My arms and legs tingle as the stun gun’s effects diminish. I wiggle a forefinger to make sure it works and tap Andor on the back.

He stops and gasps for air. “Think…you can…walk now?”

“M-maybe.”

“Take it slow.” He lowers me to the ground and steadies me with both hands, his face close to mine, his warm breath bathing my cheeks. Electric currents that have nothing to do with my stun-gun injury race through my body. I can’t help but smile.

He returns my smile and pulls me into his arms. I stiffen till I realize our illicit display of affection isn’t being monitored by cameras, AIs or drones. I relax and hug him back.

When I think how awful I must look and smell, my face burns with shame. I haven’t had a shower in days and this forest, just like our city, is as hot as Hades, despite its shade. My cloak is caked with dirt and sap, and my greasy hair is probably thick with pine debris.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead he steps back. “So good to see you again, Faron.”

Annoying tears fill my eyes. I don’t respond, afraid I’ll lose the tiny bit of emotional stability I’m hanging onto.

When I try to straighten up, my knees give out, and needles seem to dance across my forehead. If Andor wasn’t propping me up, I’d collapse.

He wraps an arm around my waist and holds tight. Can he feel how wildly my heart beats? He inches me forward. I try to help by willing my feet to move, but they don’t appear to get the message.

“We need to move faster,” he whispers in my ear. “Once they’re free, those guards are going to comb these woods for you. Jupiter might even send out drones.”

Peacekeepers? I hope not. They’ve flown over a few times, and I’ve evaded them so far by hiding under the trees.

“Where…?”

Like he’s reading my mind, he answers, “I know a place they won’t look for you.” He drags me onward till my body begins to respond. I concentrate on making my feet support me while secretly thanking what’s left of the nanobots for helping me regain my strength so quickly. Nothing feels broken, although my back is sore.

“I think I can run now.”

“Let’s go.” He releases his grip.

Andor takes the lead, leaping over logs and evading brush. I try to keep up, but the distance between us widens till finally, he slows his pace.

“This way.” He veers toward a thick patch of bushes and then stops. I catch up, and we pick our way through the waist-tall undergrowth.

He halts at a rocky outcropping, covered by a thicket of brush.

“Here we are.” He pushes aside some branches to reveal a hole barely large enough to crawl through. Small bones lie scattered around the opening.

Did something die here?

“This is the only spot I could think of where the guards won’t look for you.”

I stare, wide-eyed. “You’ve got to be kidding. No way.” I offer up my best scowl.

Doesn’t he know how I do everything I can to avoid small, dark spaces? Maybe not. I’ve never told him about my phobia. Before I started school, I occasionally spent the day with my parents in the mines. I was sure monsters lurked in the blackness beyond their headlamps, waiting for a chance to eat me.

“It’s not as tight as it appears.” He releases the branch and it falls into place. “The cave gets bigger the farther in you go. You can use your emergency beacon as a light.”

“How’d you find it?”

“Escaping a bratty cousin when I was twelve.” He grins. “Our families came here for a picnic on a day off. But I had to make the opening bigger to be able to squeeze through it.”

“What about spiders and snakes?” I shiver.

“Would you rather stay in the open?”

“No…” I shake my head and then point to his wrist. “Won’t your tracker give us away?” Although I removed my tracker from beneath my skin two days ago, I’m worried Jupiter can find us both through Andor’s.

“Jabari passed on your warning note, just like you wanted.”

Before I escaped the city, I left a note under Jabari’s door telling Andor that, because of me, Jupiter was suspicious of him.

Lines form between my friend’s brows. “So I paused my tracker and later removed it. Yesterday, I skipped work and told my AI I was sick. Then I sneaked out of my apartment, while he was out shopping. Been hiding ever since. Today, I came here to find you.”

That means we’re both refugees, both being hunted by Jupiter.

I sigh. “I’m sorry you got pulled into my troubles. I didn’t realize Jupiter was watching me so closely.”

“That’s okay. It was only a matter of time before he caught on to my rebel nature.” He motions toward the hole and holds the branches back again. “In you go. I’ll cover the entrance after you’re situated.”

My stomach twists. But I do as he requests.

First, I retrieve the EB penlight from a pocket. Throwing off my hood, I lower myself to hands and knees, switch on the light and peer into the hole. This is the first time I’ve seen a cave this small. It’s nothing more than a dirt floor and a rocky arch above.

I try to slow my breathing. Just take it one step at a time, I tell myself.

I stick the penlight’s cold metal case between my teeth and fold my arms into my chest to squeeze through the opening. My shoulders brush the sides. Dirt sifts into my hair from overhead. Roots pull at my cloak. The scent of sage is replaced by an earthy smell.

Continuing to crawl forward, I tighten my butt and wiggle my hips one way, then another to sidle them through the opening.

Am I being shoehorned into a space two sizes too small?

Reaching out, my hands touch the grubby cave floor. I push aside thoughts of how filthy I’m becoming.

I pull my legs in and turn around. Taking the penlight out of my mouth, I shine it around the space. A centipede scurries away, which makes me gasp.

This cave, if I dare call it that, has only enough headroom to sit. Rock walls surround me. My head brushes the rough roof.

Did I just disturb a spider or some other creepy crawly?

I madly scissor my fingers back and forth through my hair to remove any unwanted visitors. Then I try to consciously calm my fears by focusing on the positive. At least it’s nice and cool in here. Even with the hint of wet dog, the musty air isn’t too bad.

“You okay in there?” Andor’s face fills the entrance, and his mercurial hazel eyes reflect the penlight’s halo.

I sigh. “As good as can be expected.”

“I’m going to leave my go bag with you. In case you need it.”

Or in case you don’t make it back. I shudder but don’t voice my concern.

He draws back and then slides his bag through the opening. I grab it and set it on the floor beside me.

“Okay, I’m closing you in now.”

My heart stutters as he replaces the branches over the entrance. A wan light filters in till he adds more brush. Without the EB penlight, I’d be in complete darkness. As scary thoughts surface about being buried alive, I have to consciously calm myself. “C-can you see my light out there?” I ask.

“Yes, a slight glow comes through. So anytime you hear AIs, be sure to switch it off.”

“Okay.” I hope Jupiter’s minions don’t come close. This small space is bad enough. Add inky blackness and the threat of being exposed, and I’m afraid I’ll go crazy.

Andor whispers through the brush. “Hang tight. I’ll be back with your bag as soon as I can.”

“B-be careful.”

“Always.”

His footfalls fade as he retreats.

A sense of abandonment washes over me. I tuck my legs to my chest and curl into a ball. Then I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

I imagine myself at my jewelry worktable and envision a blue star opal, set in a shiny silver framework in front of me. I replay the steps needed to fashion this attractive pendant. First, I heated silver tubing and shaped it around a mold the same size and shape as the opal. After the metal cooled, I filed and polished the silver smooth and then soldered prongs onto the frame to secure the gem. After placing the opal into the setting, I gently squeezed the prongs over the sparkling stone.

Under my imaginary magnifier, its colorful layers glimmer in deep blue and sea-green, making me smile. I’m surprised when my eyes burn with unexpected tears. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed my art, even though it’s only been a few days since I fled the city.

Stop it, Faron, Kian, my father, chides. Enough wallowing in self-pity.

Exhaustion seeps into my muscles, maybe a residual effect of the stun gun. Or maybe I’m simply weary. Weary of living in our mechanized, superficial world under an artificial Dome.

I pull my cloak’s hood over my head and stretch out my legs. First checking for any bugs behind me, I lean my head against the bumpy cave wall. Then I set the penlight on the cave floor. No idea how long its hydrogen batteries will last, but right now, I’m more worried about keeping bugs away.

I close my eyes again. A little nap won’t hurt.

Awakened by scratching sounds. I point the penlight at the entrance. First, paws appear through the greenery. Then a long nose and a pair of piercing black eyes. At the sight of me, the animal startles and then freezes. We stare at each other for several long moments before it emits a low throaty growl.

A scream bubbles up inside me, but I don’t let it out.

I’ve invaded some wild beast’s den!