Page 5 of Jump or Fall

Mara

H e gestured for her to go in first, and she stepped in. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, sealing them inside a long tunnel with multiple branching paths.

He started forward, but she grabbed his arm. His gaze fell to where she had touched him, and she withdrew her hand.

“Where are we going?” she whispered.

In a normal speaking voice, he replied, “We have a meeting.”

“With who?”

“There’s someone you need to speak with at one of our safe houses,” he said, pushing the collar of his coat down.

“Just tell me.”

Reluctantly, he answered, “Silva Lasko.”

Mara’s eyes widened. “From Hyperion ?” Silva was the Master Gunsmith and a skilled prosthesis surgeon. He was responsible for fitting the Silvers with their finger implants.

“Yes,” he said flatly. “You wanted me to modify your suit and to be more involved. That requires working with other people.”

She took a step back. “I’m not doing this.” A cold wave of fear sent goosebumps across her arms. This wasn’t just a risky plan anymore—she might die. For some reason, the thought of seeing someone from Hyperion made it all more real .

“I was stupid to even let you keep talking when you broke in. You caught me on a horrible day, and I made an impulsive decision.”

He reached for her but quickly dropped his hand. “Don’t you want your own life?”

“I have my own life,” she snapped.

His brows lifted in disbelief. “If you wanted to move tomorrow, could you? If you wanted a different job, could you work somewhere else? If you wanted to leave him , could you? Right now, you have to sneak around like a teenager breaking curfew.”

“Do you know what happened to the last one of his pets that snuck around?” she asked, trying to keep her composure. The muscles in her legs twitched, urging her to run.

“Don’t call yourself that.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Her name was Liv and he showed me the pictures. He carved his name into her chest before slicing up her face and leaving her to bleed out.” The vivid memory of Dawson’s laughter made her stomach twist. “I have been able to earn my way here through obedience; I don’t talk back, I don’t stay out late, and I don’t fight anything he does to me.

Because of this, I have my own apartment and I have a job. That’s the most ‘life’ I can expect.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said, distress in his voice. “You can be free.”

“Free to be dead or mutilated .”

The way he flinched made her instantly regret the comment.

She was about to apologize when he said, “Silva is risking his life, too. He has already stolen from Hyperion to commit acts of treason. He’s taking a risk meeting you.

” He ran a hand through his hair. “Please, just talk with him tonight. If you still want out, I’ll take you home and you’ll never hear from me again.

I’ll figure something else out for the suit. ”

Mara searched within herself for the resolve that had made her agree in the first place. Treason wasn’t a minor offense. If Silva were caught, he wouldn’t just be exiled to the Outskirts with a stripe on his face—he would be flayed alive.

Could she make her hatred outweigh her fear? If she didn’t go through with this, then there was no chance of change. She would return to her comfortable misery, waiting until the day she chose to end it all.

If she was going to continue, she would start carrying the bottle of skiff with her everywhere. At least then she could call the shots on her death if she got caught.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she waved a hand. “Lead the way.”

They moved in silence, navigating through a labyrinth of tunnels marked by faded symbols painted along the walls and at junctions.

The air was cooler here, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat above.

Moisture clung to the walls, and the musty scent of damp concrete and chemicals lingered in the space.

Unable to stand the quiet, she asked, “Where is this safe house?”

“These maintenance tunnels stretch across the city,” he replied. “There are safe houses throughout in case of emergencies. The one we’re going to is beyond the south wall.”

She hadn’t known there was a way to bypass the city’s borders. Leaving or entering the city required permission from the Archon, which really meant permission from the Silvers.

“If you can get out, then why are you here?”

“I left for a couple of years and worked in Naxos. They’re more tolerant, but not everyone wants to work with Teichus ‘refugees’.” He met her eyes, fervor shining in his dark irises. “If I can't have a life, then neither can they.”

“Will you tell me why they did that to you? This whole arrangement feels very one-sided since you know a lot more about me than I do about you. ”

He studied her for a moment. “Another time. And for the record, I don’t know much about you. Nobody does.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really. Silva could only tell me your name and that you were one of Knight’s claims. Your employee file lists no address, no previous work history, no schooling, and no emergency contacts. Searching through city records was equally useless.”

“How did you find my apartment?”

“Followed you.”

She snorted. “I guess that makes it simple.”

The unscarred corner of his mouth rose. “Sometimes you have to do things the old-fashioned way. It helped that you don’t really go anywhere.”

“Can you blame anyone for not wanting to hang out with me? Not many places to go when any friends you had were scared off by Silvers hanging around.”

He shrugged. “I think they’re missing out.”

Her cheeks heated, and she suppressed a faint smile.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “for the comment about being mutilated.”

“I get it.” He sighed. “You have a lot more to fear than I do. You don’t need to apologize to the guy getting you into trouble.”

They kept walking for what felt like an eternity, winding through identical tunnels. The pipes overhead were all the same and a few of the lights flickered erratically.

Gordon moved with quiet confidence, navigating each twist and turn as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

At one junction, a rat darted across their path and vanished into a crack in the wall, its claws scratching against the concrete. Mara tensed but said nothing. She made a mental note to watch where she stepped. If there were rats, then there were snakes.

They rounded another bend and came upon a small crew of maintenance workers, hunched around an open panel with headlamps on their foreheads. Mara instinctively pulled up her hood and kept her head down, but Gordon didn’t bother hiding.

“They won’t say anything,” he assured.

“How do you know?”

“They’re on our side. Plus, like I said, you’re more anonymous than you think.”

The workers ignored them completely, absorbed in their task.

Once they turned the corner, Mara asked, “How is it possible to roam so freely down here? Don’t the Silvers monitor it?”

“They assigned someone young—and he’s actually ours. The Silvers are too important to pay close attention to rat-infested tunnels.”

A faint splash echoed ahead, and Mara’s mind wandered.

If she escaped, where would she go? Starting over wouldn’t be easy—even without a facial scar.

She had no idea how far Naxos was or how to get there.

From the city’s tallest buildings, it was possible to see the vast sea beyond the south wall and a road that disappeared into the forest in the north.

Other city-states existed, but she knew nothing about them. Much less where they were.

Her legs were beginning to ache from the constant walking, and there still seemed to be no end in sight. She glanced sideways at him. “So… what do you do during the daylight hours?”

He raised a brow.

“We might as well talk about something.”

A faint grin cracked his stony facade. “Courier. Most of the deliveries are in Eight. For the ones that aren’t, I just keep my helmet on.”

“Do you have any family?”

He shook his head. “Not immediate, no. My dad decided trying to hijack a cargo ship was a great idea. He was given a stripe on the face and I never saw him again. My mom fell apart after and I haven’t seen her since I was fifteen.”

“How did you take care of yourself?”

“Theft, mostly. And learning how to take a punch. ”

She wrinkled her nose, but it wasn’t judgment—just a quiet ache settling behind her ribs. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to be that young and already forced to steal and fight to survive. At least she had been an adult when her world came crashing down.

“What about you?”

Mara shook her head. “Your empty search results weren’t Dawson having records destroyed.

I was found as a baby in Division Four and grew up in a children’s home.

No name, no birthdate. They named me after the nurse who found me and estimated I was two months old.

Once I got older, they assumed I came from a Kaplan family since I have the eyes. ”

The growing issue of abandoned children led to the city adopting “The Mandate”.

It required all residents twelve and up to receive a contraceptive implant placed in the back of the arm.

At twenty-two it could be removed. Some argued it should only be required for girls, but it was most effective in both sexes.

If someone removed theirs without informing their partner, then at least the chances were still slim.

“Explains why you don't have a Kaplan name like Demirci or Balik,” he observed.

The Kaplans descended from an ancient Turkic group and made up a sizable minority in the city.

Their bright golden or amber eyes, paired with skin tones ranging from light brown to deep umber, made them easy to recognize.

The rare genetic mutation that gave their eyes that color, also made them appear to glow.

“How was it there?” he asked.

“Fine, I guess. I don’t really have anything to compare it to. They had enough connections to secure my apprenticeship at Hyperion, though.”

An awkward silence settled between them. Gordon was about to say something before he abruptly shut his mouth.

“Yes,” she said, guessing at what he was about to ask. “I met Dawson at Hyperion. ”

They reached a tunnel marked with a symbol like the others she’d seen along the way. Gordon pulled the same device as earlier out of his pocket and shined a light on the symbol. A hidden star appeared at its center and an arrow.

“If you ever need to find a safe house,” he said, “use a blacklight on the symbols.”

One final turn led them to a heavy door.

Gordon unlocked it and pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room with a table and four chairs at its center.

The walls were rough, uneven stone. The only sound was the faint rush of water.

Two additional doors stood closed along the far wall, their surfaces worn but sturdy.

Seated at the table was a man with salt-and-pepper hair, and wire-rimmed glasses.

With a strained smile, Silva said, “Hello, Mara.”