Extras by Scott Westerfeld Read Free Book Online Page B

lying down.
    She unthreaded the straps on her right bracelet, pulled it off, and curled up to wrestle it over her foot. It was all very clumsy, but after a minute's fumbling, she had the bracelet strapped tightly around her ankle.
    She magnetized it, and felt her shoe plant hard against the metal roof.
    Gingerly she released her other wrist…the wind didn't whip her away.
    Time for the scary part.
    Aya pushed herself up gradually, feet planted wide apart and arms out, like a littlie standing on a hoverboard for the first time. Up ahead, Miki's body was angled sideways into the wind, like a fencer presenting the smallest possible target. Aya imitated her as she stood up. The higher she got, the fiercer the wind grew. Invisible, chaotic whirlwinds buffeted her body, twisting her hair into knots.
    But finally Aya was fully upright, every muscle straining.
    All around her, the world was a wild blur.
    The train had reached the outer edge of the new expansion, where the city grew every day. Banks of work-lights shot past like bright orange comets, earthmovers the size of mansions flitting by. The wild lay just ahead, its dark mass the only steady shape in the maelstrom of lights and noise and rushing wind.
    Then the last glow of construction streaked past, and the train plunged into a sea of darkness. As the city network fell behind, Aya's skintenna lost its connection with the city interface. The world was quickly emptied: no feeds, no face ranks, no fame.
    As if the screaming wind had stripped everything away.
    But somehow Aya didn't miss it all—she was laughing. She felt huge and unstoppable, like a littlie on horseback galloping at breakneck speed.
    The train's awesome power flowed across her hands. Angling her palms flat, she felt the airstream lift her up, pulling her against the straps around her ankle, like a bird straining to fly. Every gesture whipped her body into a new stance, as if the wind was an extension of her will. But just ahead, Miki's dark outline was crouching. Something was in her hand…
    A yellow light.
    "Crap!" Aya angled her palms down and bent her knees.
    As she crumpled to the train's roof, something huge and invisible sliced the air overhead, hissing like the blade of a sword whipping past. Its shock wave rang through her body like a blow. Then it was gone. Aya hadn't even seen what it was.
    She swallowed, squinting into the wind. Ahead, a string of yellow lights stretched away toward the front of the train. They flicked off one by one, the danger past.
    How had she missed them?
    "Don't get too excited," Jai had warned. "Or you'll lose your head." Trembling, she rose slowly from her crouch, her momentary sense of giddy power vanished. The darkness stretched out ahead as far as she could see.
    Suddenly Aya Fuse felt very small.

    TUNNEL

    There were four things Aya was realizing about the wild.
    It was formless. The forest rushing by on either side blurred into one impenetrable mass, a roiling void of speed.
    It was endless, or maybe time had broken. Whether she'd been surfing for minutes or hours, she had no idea.
    Third, the wild had a huge sky, which didn't make sense—it seemed like the sky would be the same size everywhere. But the blackness overhead sprawled out—unmarked by the city's jagged skyline, unstained by reflected light— starlit and vast.
    And lastly, it was cold. Though that was probably thanks to the three-hundred-klick wind in Aya's face.
    Next time, she was bringing two jackets.

    Some time later, Aya saw Miki's outline drop into a crouch. She looked worriedly at the other girls ahead, but no decapitation warning lights were showing.
    Miki seemed to be playing with the bracelet around her ankle—then suddenly she was untethered, sliding backward across the train's roof on the seat of her pants, carried by the fierce headwind.
    "Miki!" Aya screamed, kneeling and sticking out a hand.
    As she slid within Aya's reach, Miki slammed a crash bracelet down, spinning to a halt. She was