The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

3. The People's Hero

The man led him down grey hallways inset with locked doors and flooded with glaring lights. A roach skittered across the cracked concrete. M'yu hoped it made it out of this place quick.

The Cap walked straight ahead, not even bothering to see if M'yu had followed. At the end of the hall, he pulled a linkcard out of his pocket. M'yu snuck closer; the man didn't react, so M'yu peered around.

The man ran a line of code on the card, and the door locks thunked open. M'yu's nose wrinkled. "Why hack it when your kinda clearance could blow through any door in this slum?"

Alley-Cap glanced over his shoulder and looked M'yu up and down. "Because I mysteriously seem to have misplaced my own card. This is a temporary one." He turned and pushed the door open, leading them into a reception area desked by some bored Magnate brute. "Afternoon," the Cap greeted as he strode across.

The door nearly closed on M'yu, and he hurried to keep up. Man, this guy's got long legs. Outside ugly square windows, the snowy road glistened with afternoon light. M'yu's breathing quickened, eyes darting for exits. Maybe not too long to get away from.

A firm hand came down on M'yu's shoulder. Leaning over, Alley-Cap muttered, "Run and I will hunt you to the ends of the planet." With a smile, he patted his shoulder, straightened, and nodded toward the door. "Heroes first."

M'yu cocked his head, but Alley-Cap just watched expectantly. With the Magnate brute boring holes in his back, M'yu shoved the door open to the outside.

The winter wind tossed his curls, its normal bite more pleasant than the stale air of the prison, even without his coat. M'yu glanced up and down the long, quiet street. A glittering Gloam Hall towered over crumbling offices. A pigeon pecked at a crumb on the sidewalk. A few well-dressed pedestrians shuffled through the cold.

The buildings here were packed tight; Hall Row was a terrible place for a thief, the least of which was the prison being here. No hidey-holes, no climbing spots, no unlocked doors. M'yu itched to run—but where to?

The hand clamped down on his shoulder again. "I thought we might talk there." Alley-Cap pointed to a hover parked across the street. The sphere of opaque glass floated a foot above the ground, its doors emblazoned with the scroll and sword insignia of the Capital.

M'yu's eyes widened. The only time he'd been inside of one of those technological marvels was in his dreams—and even in those dreams, that was after the Capital fell and owning a hover didn't reek of wealth and injustice.

M'yu slipped the Cap's grip and ran away, as hard and fast as he could—or at least he should've if he was any sort of revolutionary. Instead, he found himself ogling the hover and drawing nearer by the second. Alley-Cap hmmed and let go of him as they came to a stop, fishing out the makeshift linkcard again. The door unlocked with a hiss, glass sliding up and away to reveal a sleek interior. A podium in the center held a control panel, the biggest he'd ever seen. This thing was the size of five or six linkcards put together—a foot and a half, maybe two even. Its flat screen glittered like black gold.

"If you don't close your mouth, it might freeze that way," Alley-Cap said. He gestured at the plush black seats ringing the screen. "Well, go on then."

M'yu bit his lip, stepped back—and then climbed in. It felt like stepping into a different world. Alley-Cap fired up the control panel, and the engine whirred to life. Once the doors closed, cozy yellow lights flicked on and a heater blew warm air across M'yu's skin. The man selected a few more commands, then leaned back as the hover began to move. "Alright, kid. You got my attention. Why?"

M'yu twisted in his seat, trying to peer out the blackened windows. "Where are we going?"

"For now? In a circle. We could go for a full round-trip if I don't like your answer."