Unchanged by Jessica Brody Page A

seat. I know I should be used to being confined by now, but the thought of being trapped inside this capsule for the next 27.2 minutes is making me hyperventilate.
    I start to recite the square root of pi.
    1.77245385091  …
    â€œHow are you feeling, Sera?” Killy calls out.
    â€œFine,” I say, and then quickly amend my answer to “Great.”
    But I find it impossible to inflate the word with any enthusiasm.
    The door seals and I watch the station disappear as the glass dims to black. I can feel the loading track vibrating under my seat as we move toward the tube entrance. Soon there will be nothing beneath us but air.
    Only twenty-eight tour stops to go, I think as the capsule slows to a heart-pounding pause.
    Then I’m thrust against the back of my seat with the force of the earth falling.

 
    16
    REACTIVE
    I’m grateful when we finally begin to decelerate less than thirty minutes later and our capsule connects with the loading track that brings us into the Los Angeles hyperloop station. It feels good to have something sturdy and metal underneath me again. As opposed to the rush of unreliable air.
    We pull up to the disembarkation platform and the black tint of the synthoglass dissolves, allowing me to view the inside of the station. As I struggle to turn my head to peer out, I expect to see Kaelen waiting for me on the platform, his genetically disguised face greeting me with a crooked smile. But I’m met with a far more disturbing reality.
    A man I’ve never seen before is lying unconscious on the ground, his body contorted in the most unnatural way. He’s not moving. I don’t think he’s even breathing. A pile of shattered DigiCams lie in pieces next to his head.
    Five people—more unrecognizable faces—are gathered around him. Someone kneels down to check his pulse. Another—a stocky man with longish hair—shouts something I can’t hear through the thick glass of the capsule. I follow his feverish gaze across the platform and suck in a breath when I see his angry bellows are directed at Kaelen.
    At least I think it’s Kaelen. He’s still disguised by the injection and his face is twisted in such rage, he barely even looks human. He’s being held back by four of Raze’s burly security agents and I immediately understand why. He looks like he wants to kill someone. My gaze darts back to the man lying motionless on the platform.
    Or perhaps he already has.
    Did Kaelen do that?
    The minute the question pops into my head, I have my answer. Kaelen wrestles free from the agents’ grasp and lunges himself forward so fast, I doubt anyone can follow the trajectory of his movement except me.
    He clobbers the shouting man, knocking him hard onto his back. His head crunches against the unyielding surface of the platform. Kaelen thrusts a fist into the man’s face. Blood splatters Kaelen’s disfigured cheeks and the surrounding floor.
    â€œOh, flux,” I hear Crest swear behind me. “This is bad.”
    My mind finally reacts to what I’m seeing and I struggle against my restraints, wedging my hands between my body and the metal bars pinning me to the seat, but it’s no use. I can’t force them to budge even an inch.
    Synthosteel.
    I twist my head again, straining to see what’s happening on the platform. My heart thuds violently in my chest as I watch Kaelen continue to pound the man’s face. But the man is no longer fighting back. His arms have fallen limp at his sides.
    I catch a glimpse of the four agents who were restraining Kaelen. They’re all itching to reach for their mutation lasers, but a definitive shake of the head from Raze changes their minds. Instead, they storm toward him, trying to pull him off the man. Kaelen’s mouth stretches in what I can only assume is a roar and he quickly thrusts each of them back, sending them flying through the air. One of them slams into our capsule.