The Restoration Protocol

35 || fall to fly

Mariko makes it safely inside the elevator before any sound of commotion reaches her ears. If chaos broke loose the second the doors closed, she wouldn't know. This soundproof bubble makes her feel separated from the world.

Inside, she's able to pinpoint her exact location: right around the center of the airship, as she recalls from the holomap in the control room. And this elevator can taker her straight to the top floor — there, unless this map is lying to her, she'll find a ladder that would take her to the roof of the airship. Mariko clutches the walkie-talkie in her hand the entire time she's in the elevator. She'll be needing it soon anyway. The second she braces the outside again, she'll be relying on Sebastian's careful instructions.

The doors open. Mariko holds her breath, then peaks around the corners — no one is around. No androids, no giant automatons, and most disappointingly, no Boey. But she's accepted at this point that Sebastian was probably right. He's probably logged out of Paracosia. Far from the action and danger, where he belongs.

She tries not to think about it. Her heart is beating fast enough as she scans the hall in search of a ladder. She spots it in a moment. It's close, just like the map said.

Mariko clips her walkie-talkie to her belt and begins to climb. The hallway may be silent, but she doesn't intend to wait around for noise to follow her, either. Sebastian is waiting. He's waiting, Soleil is waiting, Kasey and Mono are all waiting.

The metal bars of the ladder are cold and rusty — better than slick and slippery. She'll need to free one hand to open the hatch above her head — and that's if it isn't too heavy for her. The person or people who designed this place clearly didn't accommodate sabotage from a teenage girl. The more time she spends in this airship, the smaller she's beginning to feel. As though she truly had been swallowed by a great beast at whose mercy she remains, so long as she roams its massive stomach...

At least the outside is within reach. Mariko's heart pounds in her ears as her fingertips graze the metal hatch over her head. She tightens her grip on the ladder to keep herself steady, then pushes up with all her might. It budges. She can feel herself making progress, hear the whistling of wind just above her, so she pushes with all her might again and then some. It opens. She hoists herself out and shuts the hatch again.

The air outside is warm. Warmer still from the anxiety bubbling inside her. There's no one up here, either — although with one look around the vast, empty space up here, Mariko is unsure if she's more relieved or scared by that fact. No, no, I'm not scared, she quickly tells herself, reaching for the walkie-talkie again. She presses the button without hesitation and holds it up to her mouth.

"Sebastian?"

"Mars, hey, that was fast."

Her heartbeat steadies a bit. He replied right away. "Yeah, I'm on the roof now," she says. "But...but there's nothing up here. What am I supposed to do?"

"It's subtle, but there should be a panel on the ground somewhere," Sebastian begins to explain. "Should be around the center-"

"That's where I am."

"Good. Just look around."

"Okay."

Mariko holds the device close to her chest as she begins to circle the area she ascended to. Scanning the ground, rubbing her eyes, squinting as a cloud of fog starts to roll over the surface of the ship. It tastes of metal, burnt particles of something Mariko is sure wouldn't be wise to ingest — it's not real, she reminds herself, but oh does it taste real. It smells like something's burning, too, but nothing within sight is on fire. Must be the airship's engines. She holds her breath and pulls the collar of her coat over her mouth — focus, I need to focus.