of things—less than a hundred years. I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or disappointed. I plug the numbers into my Tether and nod.
Closing my eyes, I feel the charge building in the room around me. My hair starts to lift off my head—even the metal buckles on my boots and vest hum. Then I feel a jolt on my arm, the connection to this time being made through the Tether. I breathe out slowly, but inside my head I feel the heat build until it is unbearable, like I’m melting inside. I take a deep breath, hold it, and then let go of the rails.
S EVEN
L EX
Something isn’t right. The room is different somehow. We have been to the Amber Room before, but this time it feels like there is something missing. Not in the room itself, but in the air around us. There is a void in the time stream, like the air in the room is going to implode on itself. I glance into the corner of the room, searching for the source of my discomfort. A crack that was never there before splinters down the wall. Subconsciously I reach back, taking Stein by the hand as I watch. The crack widens, and a small metal leg struggles through, tearing the crack into a small hole. It emerges like a mechanical chick bursting through an egg. I take the brush and shove it in my pocket. When I look back it’s not just one Gear Head, but three of them making their way through the crack.
“Run!” I scream.
Picking up the ornate chair from the vanity table, I chuck it through the window.
“I really hope Gloves doesn’t need that,” I say, urging Stein out. As I dive out the window behind her, a piece of glass grazes my shoulder. Instantly blood flows down my arm, soaking my sleeve as I fall.
We land on the main deck of the airship. The wind gusts across the steel bow, forcing us toward the railing. Stein grabs my uninjured arm and tugs me to the back of the ship, where long ropes tie it to the rocky cliffs below.
“Why are there Gear Heads?” Stein gasps, leaning forward over the rail. “They weren’t here last time.”
“I don’t know,” I answer, shaking my head. It doesn’t make any sense. Somehow they have tracked us to this place, and I have no idea how we are going to get past them.
I swear under my breath. “How could Claymore miss the disturbance in the time stream?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the Serum didn’t fix the problem and he’s still not functioning at one hundred percent,” Stein suggests, breathing hard. She holds my arm and peeks around my shoulder, looking more freaked out than I’ve ever seen her. She grabs me by the sleeve, “Lex, my Contra. It’s gone.” I glance down and see her vest torn, the pocket where she keeps her Contra hanging open.
“We need to move,” I say, ushering her forward. “If we can get far enough away, you can take mine and go for help.”
She nods grimly. “I don’t see them. Can you see them?”
I’m about to say no, but out of the corner of my eye I see movement. They are coming. And there are so many of them I can’t even count. I look back at Stein; her face is resigned. I nod over the edge to the ropes draped between the giant brass propellers.
“Remind me again how hiding the Amber Room fifty stories above the Grand Canyon was a good idea?” Stein says, climbing over the edge as she speaks.
The Gear Heads are advancing, chewing up the deck with their sharp pincers as they move. Sparks fly off the deck as the little robots rev the saws affixed to their other arms.
“They are going to tear through this thing like a can opener,” I say, clinging to the thick lead.
I look to Stein. A Gear Head leaps to the deck inches from where she holds the other rope. It turns its saw on the cleat holding her rope.
I lurch back onto the rail and swat the machine over the edge. It hits the propeller and red liquid from its domed head splatters across the bottom of the ship.
Cursing Gloves in the most colorful ways we can think of, we coil our legs around the ropes and begin our
Closing my eyes, I feel the charge building in the room around me. My hair starts to lift off my head—even the metal buckles on my boots and vest hum. Then I feel a jolt on my arm, the connection to this time being made through the Tether. I breathe out slowly, but inside my head I feel the heat build until it is unbearable, like I’m melting inside. I take a deep breath, hold it, and then let go of the rails.
S EVEN
L EX
Something isn’t right. The room is different somehow. We have been to the Amber Room before, but this time it feels like there is something missing. Not in the room itself, but in the air around us. There is a void in the time stream, like the air in the room is going to implode on itself. I glance into the corner of the room, searching for the source of my discomfort. A crack that was never there before splinters down the wall. Subconsciously I reach back, taking Stein by the hand as I watch. The crack widens, and a small metal leg struggles through, tearing the crack into a small hole. It emerges like a mechanical chick bursting through an egg. I take the brush and shove it in my pocket. When I look back it’s not just one Gear Head, but three of them making their way through the crack.
“Run!” I scream.
Picking up the ornate chair from the vanity table, I chuck it through the window.
“I really hope Gloves doesn’t need that,” I say, urging Stein out. As I dive out the window behind her, a piece of glass grazes my shoulder. Instantly blood flows down my arm, soaking my sleeve as I fall.
We land on the main deck of the airship. The wind gusts across the steel bow, forcing us toward the railing. Stein grabs my uninjured arm and tugs me to the back of the ship, where long ropes tie it to the rocky cliffs below.
“Why are there Gear Heads?” Stein gasps, leaning forward over the rail. “They weren’t here last time.”
“I don’t know,” I answer, shaking my head. It doesn’t make any sense. Somehow they have tracked us to this place, and I have no idea how we are going to get past them.
I swear under my breath. “How could Claymore miss the disturbance in the time stream?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the Serum didn’t fix the problem and he’s still not functioning at one hundred percent,” Stein suggests, breathing hard. She holds my arm and peeks around my shoulder, looking more freaked out than I’ve ever seen her. She grabs me by the sleeve, “Lex, my Contra. It’s gone.” I glance down and see her vest torn, the pocket where she keeps her Contra hanging open.
“We need to move,” I say, ushering her forward. “If we can get far enough away, you can take mine and go for help.”
She nods grimly. “I don’t see them. Can you see them?”
I’m about to say no, but out of the corner of my eye I see movement. They are coming. And there are so many of them I can’t even count. I look back at Stein; her face is resigned. I nod over the edge to the ropes draped between the giant brass propellers.
“Remind me again how hiding the Amber Room fifty stories above the Grand Canyon was a good idea?” Stein says, climbing over the edge as she speaks.
The Gear Heads are advancing, chewing up the deck with their sharp pincers as they move. Sparks fly off the deck as the little robots rev the saws affixed to their other arms.
“They are going to tear through this thing like a can opener,” I say, clinging to the thick lead.
I look to Stein. A Gear Head leaps to the deck inches from where she holds the other rope. It turns its saw on the cleat holding her rope.
I lurch back onto the rail and swat the machine over the edge. It hits the propeller and red liquid from its domed head splatters across the bottom of the ship.
Cursing Gloves in the most colorful ways we can think of, we coil our legs around the ropes and begin our
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