Free The Song of the Jubilee (The Phantom of the Earth Book 1) by Raeden Zen Page A

portion labeled in blue, the intraterritory portion labeled in red. He placed his pack in front of a seat across from Connor, who’d set his pack on the adjacent seat.
    Connor pulled the overhead latch down over his shoulders. “What now?”
    “Tell Marstone we’re going to Calabria Station in Yeuron City,” Hans said.
    Connor nodded. He inserted his forged commonwealth card and entered his forged commonwealth security number on a digital display. Murray had explained to Connor the transport’s system of checks and balances—the fingerprint, the key cards, the security numbers and test of telepathy—all meant to prevent the unregistered, undeveloped, or underdeveloped from traveling. Murray also taught the boy that all legitimate interterritory travel led to the Phanes Beltway, which looped around Beimeni City.
    Hans latched into his seat.
    What’s your destination?
    Marstone regulated and moderated telepathic mind-to-mind and machine-to-mind communications in the ZPF, anywhere in the solar system. Its voice sounded brash and unassailable.
    Calabria Station, Yeuron City, Hans sent.
    He waited for Connor to indicate the same destination, then flicked a switch on his scrambler, which transmitted counterfeit signals to the transport and the Department of Transportation in Beimeni City.
    Connor fidgeted in his seat.
    “Relax,” Hans said.
    Marstone didn’t inquire about the purpose of the trip, its standard protocol altered by the scrambler, and the overhead lighting dimmed. An outdoor scene engulfed them, and the transport’s walls instead looked like windows, revealing rolling dunes, waves over an ocean, the smell of sea salt in the air—a perfect Granville illusion.
    Hans unlatched and held the seats for balance. At the main digital display, he attached a wire to a card and to the scrambler. He inserted the card into an access dock on the transport’s control panel. On a digital display, boxes numbered 1 to 100, and lettered with the word GO replaced the maps. Hans sent his algorithm.

    UNIVERSAL ACCESS GRANTED

    “Johann, where’re we going?” Connor said.
    Hans didn’t answer. He pushed more numbers, hit the GO button, then more numbers, GO, and one more time—until the transport shifted to a service tunnel, which would avoid the Phanes Beltway. Hans eased into his seat. The transport increased to its top speed, nearly fifteen hundred kilometers per hour—the highest speed a transhuman could handle without wearing a synsuit—but purred in the maglev tunnel.
    Hans closed his eyes and imagined Farino Prison and what it would take for him and Murray to succeed in the operation: a combination of stealth, skilled telepathy, and luck.

    Spas of Tranquility
    Natura, Underground West

    The transport slowed into Gzhela Station. The ocean disappeared, and the transport walls turned white.
    “How do you feel?” Hans said.
    “A little dizzy,” Connor admitted. “That transport moved a lot faster than the intraterritory ones.”
    Hans suspected this wasn’t the only reason for his brother’s vertigo. He didn’t want to scare Connor. It seemed the fever might hit him sooner than Hans anticipated. Assuring himself he’d made the right decision, he dug into his pack and threw cashmere slippers, a sleeveless tunic, and a fur cape at Connor, who looked a bit pale.
    The cape slipped out of Connor’s grasp as if it were a fish. “It’s so soft.” He picked it up.
    “Wear it, the tunic, and the slippers,” Hans said.
    He pulled more luxury garb out of his pack, and he and Connor redressed. He combed his hair and told Connor to do the same. Then he sprayed himself and his brother with oceanic cologne to remove their fishy, sweaty stench and lifted a thin bottle filled with a clear fluid from his pocket. He sprayed his and Connor’s packs, and they turned from a worn-looking tan to a rich red-brown. Hans also sprayed the packs with cologne, then stored their fishermen bodysuits and capes.
    “What’re you