OVER THE EDGE

The two waited all day in the Rusty Ruins, patches of sunlightcrawling across the floor through the crumbling roof,like slow searchlights marking the hours. It took Tally agesto get to sleep, imagining the leap from the hilltop downinto uncertainty. Finally she passed out, too tired to dream.
Awakening at dusk, she found that David had alreadypacked two knapsacks with everything they might needduring the rescue. They hoverboarded to the edge of theruins, riding two sandwiched hoverboards each. Hopefully,they would need the extra boards when they emerged fromSpecial Circumstances, escapees in tow.
Eating breakfast by the river, Tally took time to appreciateher SwedeBalls. If they got caught tonight, at least shewould never have dehydrated food again. Sometimes Tallyfelt she could almost accept brain damage if it meant a lifewithout reconstituted noodles.
As darkness fell, Tally and David reached the whitewater, and they passed through the greenbelt at the verymoment the lights winked off in Uglyville. By midnight,they were atop the hill overlooking Special Circumstances.
Tally pulled out her binoculars and trained theminward, toward New Pretty Town, where the party towerswere just coming alight.
David blew into his hands, his breath visible in theOctober chill. “You really think they’ll do it?”
“Why not?” she said, watching the dark spaces of thecity’s largest pleasure garden. “They seemed into it.”
“Yeah, but aren’t they taking a big risk? I mean, theyjust met us.”
She shrugged. “An ugly lives for tricks. Haven’t youever done something just because a mysterious strangerintrigued you?”
“I gave my gloves to one once. But it got me into allkinds of trouble.”
She lowered the binoculars and saw that David wassmiling. “You don’t look as nervous tonight,” she said.
“I’m glad we’re finally here, finally ready to do something.
And after those three kids agreed to help us, I feel like . . .”
“Like this might actually work?”
“No, something better.” He looked down at the SpecialCircumstances compound. “They were so ready to help,just to make trouble, just to play a trick. At first, it killed meto hear you act like the Smoke still existed. But if there areenough uglies like them, maybe it will again.”
“Of course it will,” she said softly.
David shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But even if we368 Scott Westerfeldblow it tonight, and both wind up under the knife, at leastsomeone will still keep fighting. Making trouble, you know?”
“I hope it’s us, making trouble,” Tally said.
“Me too.” He drew Tally closer, and kissed her. Whenhe released her, Tally took a deep breath and closed hereyes. It felt better to kiss him, more real, now that she wasabout to begin undoing the damage she had done.
“Look,” David said.
In the dark spaces of New Pretty Town, something washappening.
She raised her binoculars.
A shimmering line cut its way across the black expanseof the pleasure garden, like a bright fissure opening in theearth. Then more lines appeared, one by one, tremulousarcs and circles sweeping through the darkness. The varioussegments seemed to sparkle into existence in randomorder, but they eventually formed letters, and words.
Finally, the whole glittering thing was finished, someparts of it newly sprung to life, the first few lines alreadystarting to fade as the sparklers exhausted themselves. Butfor a few moments, Tally could read the whole thing, evenwithout her binoculars. From Uglyville, it must have beenhuge, visible to anyone staring longingly out their window.
It said: THE SMOKE LIVES.
As Tally watched it fade, breaking down into randomlines and arcs again as the sparklers extinguished, she wonderedif the words were really true.
UGLIES 369“There they go,” David said.
Below them, a large circular opening had appeared in thelargest building’s roof, and three hovercars rose up throughthe gap in quick succession, screaming toward the city. Tallyhoped that An, Dex, and Sussy had followed her advice andwere long gone from New Pretty Town. “Ready?” she said.
In answer, David tightened the straps of his bungeejacket and jumped onto his boards.
They rode down the hill, turned around, and started back up.
For the tenth time, Tally checked the light on the collarof her jacket. It was still green, and she could see David’slight bobbing along beside her. No excuses now.
They gained speed as they climbed toward the dark sky,the entire hill like a giant ramp before them. The windpushed Tally’s hair back, and she blinked as bugs pingedagainst her face. She slid carefully toward the front of thepaired boards, the toes of one grippy shoe sticking out pastthe riding surface.
Then the horizon seemed to slip away in front of her,and Tally crouched, ready to jump.
The ground disappeared.
Tally pushed off with all her strength, forcing her hoverboardsdown the steep side of the hill, where they wouldbring themselves to a halt. She and David had switched offtheir crash bracelets—they didn’t want the boards followingthem over the wire. Not yet.
370 Scott WesterfeldTally soared into midair, still climbing for a few moreseconds. The outer city lay below her, a vast patchwork oflight and dark. She spread her arms and legs.
At the peak of her arc, the silence seemed to overwhelmeverything—her stomach-churning weightlessness, the mixof excitement and fear rushing through her, the windagainst her face. Tally tore her eyes from the silently waitingearth and dared a glance at David. Hardly an arm’slength away, he was looking back at her, his face alight.
She grinned at him and turned back to see that theground was approaching now, the speed of her fall buildingslowly. As she’d calculated, they were coming down right inthe middle of the wire. Tally began to anticipate the sickeningjolt of her bungee jacket pulling her up.
For long moments nothing happened, except theground getting closer, and Tally wondered again if bungeejackets could handle a fall from this distance. A hundredversions of what a hard landing would feel like managed tosqueeze into her head. Of course, it probably wouldn’t feellike anything.
Ever again.
The ground grew closer and closer, until Tally wascertain something had gone wrong. Then, with sudden violence,the straps of the jacket came alive, cutting cruellyinto her thighs and shoulders, crushing the air from herlungs, the pressure building as if a huge rubber band werewrapped around her, trying to bring her to a halt. The bareUGLIES 371dirt of the compound rushed up toward her, looking flatand packed and hard, the jacket fighting her momentumdesperately now, crushing her like a fist in its grasp.
Finally, the invisible rubber band stretching toward itsbreaking point, she slowed to a shuddering halt withinreach of the ground, pulling her hands back to keep fromtouching it, her eyeballs straining forward as if theywanted to pop out of her skull.
Then her fall reversed, and she pulled back upward,hover-bouncing head over heels, sky and horizon spinningaround her like a playground ride. Tally had no idea whereDavid was—or where up and down were, for that matter.
This jump was ten times her plunge off Garbo Mansion.
How many bounces would it take to come to a stop?
Now she was falling again, the dirt of the compoundreplaced by a building below her. One foot almost toucheddown onto the roof, but Tally was pulled up again, still barrelingforward with the momentum of her leap off the hill.
She managed to orient herself, sorting out up and downjust in time to see the edge of the roof coming toward her.
She was overshooting the building. . . .
Flailing in the grasp of the jacket, flying helplesslyupward and then down again, she passed the roof’s edge.
But her outstretched hand caught a rain gutter, bringingTally to a sudden halt. “Phew,” she said, looking down.
The building wasn’t very tall, and Tally would bouncein her jacket if she fell, but the moment her feet touched the372 Scott Westerfeldground, the wire would sound an alarm. She gripped therain gutter with both hands.
But the bungee jacket, satisfied that her fall hadstopped, was shutting itself down, gradually returning herto normal weight. She struggled to pull herself up onto theroof, but the heavy knapsack full of rescue equipmentdragged her downward. It was like trying to do a pull-upwearing lead shoes.
She hung there, out of ideas, waiting to fall.
Footsteps came toward her along the roof, and a faceappeared. David.
“Having trouble?”
She grunted an answer, and he reached over, grabbinga strap of the knapsack. The weight mercifully lifted fromher shoulders, and Tally pulled herself over the edge.
David sat back onto the roof, shaking his head. “So,Tally, you used to do that for fun?”
“Not every day.”
“Didn’t think so. Can we rest for a minute?”
She scanned the rooftop. No one coming, no alarmsringing. Apparently, the wire wasn’t built to sense them upthere. Tally smiled.
“Sure. Take two minutes, if you want. It looks like theSpecials weren’t expecting anyone to jump out of the sky.”