Free Shattered Sky by Neal Shusterman Page A

was sticking to. She had almost softened, almost shown a hint of her old self, but now the expression on her face solidified to granite. She strolled back to her lounge, and, resuming her position of leisure, she called to her boy toys. “Paul, Eric, it’s time for our visitor to leave. Throw him overboard.”
    The two brawny men advanced on Winston.
    â€œWhat?!”
    â€œNo—wait!” said Lourdes. “After all this is a pirate ship. Make him walk the plank!”
    Gerardo brought her the drink she had left at the bar, and she began to suck it down gleefully.
    While the boy toys held him, two fat crewmen bounded off, returning with a long table from one of the decks below, and cantilevered it out over the side. By now the event had drawn the attention of Lourdes’s guests and they crowded the rail, chattering and laughing as if this were just another bit of entertainment.
    They prodded Winston onto the makeshift plank.
    â€œLourdes, don’t do this!”
    â€œOh, please,” she said. “We’re barely half a mile from shore, and the water isn’t that cold. Humor me.”
    Winston stood at the end of the plank, seven decks above the Pacific, being cheered on by Lourdes’s hordes. No, thought Winston, the fall wouldn’t kill him, and neither would the swim. But it was not his well being he was considering. It was Lourdes’s. They had all been affected by the events in their lives, misshapen in many ways by what they had been through. Lourdes was broken, and he doubted even Dillon could fix her now.
    â€œGood-bye, Lourdes.”
    With the cheering crowd behind him, and without looking back, he jumped into the sea.
    The fall seemed to stretch on for a sickening eternity, and then the sting as he hit the water was quickly numbed by the chill. He surfaced beside the great ship, still hearing the cheers from above. The water was cold but not frigid, and although half a mile was a long way for an untrained swimmer to go, Winston stroked, finding his desire to put distance between himself and Lourdes enough motivation to propel him to shore.

5. CATCHING RAYS
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    T RANSCRIPTION EXCERPT, DAY 193. 13:45 HOURS .
    â€œPigeons pray. Did you know that, Maddy?”
    â€œI never noticed.”
    â€œThey did a study. Take a pigeon, put it in a cage, then feed it at random intervals regardless of its behavior, and pretty soon it starts to do some weird things—like hopping on one leg, or spinning in circles, or bowing its head over and over, as if that’s what brings on the food. ‘Religious behavior’ they call it.”
    â€œThe prayers of pigeons.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œWhat makes you think their prayers aren’t answered?”
    â€œYou know, Maddy, sometimes you remind me of someone.”
    â€œDo I remind you of Deanna?”
    â€œShe also would have championed the prayers of pigeons. And she’d make you believe they were answered.”
    â€œI’m a poor substitute for the goddess of faith.”
    T ODAY D ILLON WAS FACED with a dead horse on a veterinary gurney.
    Flies buzzed in a hazy cloud about its body and in and out of its nostrils. By the stench that filled the cylindrical expanse of the cooling tower, Dillon could tell the beast had been dead for quite some time.
    Zero Team had been replaced by a single “zeroid,” as Dillon called him. A few minutes earlier, the zeroid had assiduously wheeled Dillon from his cell, through the connectingcorridors, and out to the now familiar spot on the center of the cooling tower. The only difference was that Bussard attended his transit now to make sure that Dillon did not speak to this man. Once positioned in the center of the cooling tower floor, the zeroid exited to his ready room, to wait in an informational void, never knowing what went on in his absence. Then Dillon would be alone with Bussard—an unpleasant circumstance, even if he hadn’t been locked