I turn on my heel and as I walk away, I hear Beckett singing something familiar under his breath.
“When I am king, you will be first against the wall
With your opinion, which is of no consequence at all.”
The haunting melody continues in my mind as I hurry back to my room. I know that song, it’s a classic. So why do I have a creeping feeling of dread?
And then the title flashes in my mind, making me wonder if Beckett saw more than he let on.
He was singing a Radiohead song—called “Paranoid Android.”
Twenty-Three
LEO
INSTEAD OF THE MIRROR SCREEN ALARM, I WAKE UP TO THE sound of someone flinging open my bedroom door. I scramble upright, covering my bare chest as Lark steps in.
“No breakfast in the cafeteria today,” she says by way of greeting. “Dr. Takumi called a press conference in the media room. Get dressed and meet your fellow finalists there right away.”
“Is everything oka—”
But she’s already on to the next room before I can get my question out. I climb out of bed, an onset of nerves kicking in. Something tells me that whatever this is . . . it’s going to be bad.
I throw on my uniform and hurry out the door, catching up with Henri and the other Russian finalist, Evgeni, at the end of the boys’ corridor.
“Do you guys know what’s going on?” I ask as we rush down the stairs.
“No clue,” Henri answers, and Evgeni shakes his head. But they both look almost as worried as I feel.
We arrive in the media room to find a grim-faced Dr. Takumi and General Sokolov standing at the foot of the stage before a half-dozen news cameras. The sight of outsiders infiltrating our training-camp bubble gives me a shudder of foreboding.
More than half of my fellow finalists fill the seats in front of the stage, and I scan their faces, looking for Naomi—but there’s no sign of her. I follow Henri and Evgeni into the second row and slide in next to Dev Khanna, leaving the aisle seat beside me empty for her.
“Any idea what’s happening?” I glance at Dev, hoping against the odds that he might have some reassuring info. But he shakes his head. We wait silently, with him watching the stage and me eyeing the door, until he nudges me in the ribs. “Look.”
I follow Dev’s gaze to the opposite side of the aisle—where General Sokolov leads a stumbling Dot toward the stage. My mouth falls open as I watch Dot struggling to walk, like some kind of robot toddler. I hear Sydney Pearle try to greet Dot, and I see the robot stare at her blankly in return . . . as if she’s never seen her before. A pit of dread sets in my stomach.
“What’s going on?”
It’s Naomi. I breathe a sigh of relief. As long as she’s here in the audience with us, she couldn’t have been caught . . . right?
I point out the sight of the clumsy, infantile Dot limping her way up the stage, helped along by the general. Dev leans over to the two of us.
“It looks like they reset Dot.”
Naomi closes her eyes, shaking her head.
“Reset?” I repeat. “What does that mean, exactly?”
But before they can answer me, Dr. Takumi steps up to the microphone. He leans forward, staring into the eyes of the cameras. “Early this morning, the Johnson Space Center was the victim of an attempted security breach. I want to assure everyone that no harm was done. However, we had to act quickly. Seeing as the security breach occurred in one of our most classified, high-level robots, we had no choice but to restore the AI, Dot, to her original settings before she could be compromised any further. All of her stored memory, data, and functions have been scrubbed. Dot will need to relearn her skills—and will no longer accompany the Final Six to Europa.”
My stomach drops. Naomi grabs my arm as a collective gasp fills the air. I can tell from her shallow breaths that she is on the verge of panic, just like me, and I force myself to keep a poker face even as I feel my body twitching, threatening to give us away.
“However, there will still be two robots on the mission,” Dr. Takumi continues. “While it’s less than ideal, a backup AI we recently finished testing will take Dot’s place and serve alongside Cyb.”
One of the reporters raises his hand.
“Do you have any idea who could be responsible for such a treacherous act?”
Naomi digs her nails into my arm, and I brace myself for the worst. This is it. We’re caught, and they’re going to take her away—
“That information has not been confirmed,” Dr. Takumi says coolly. “However, we have reason to suspect someone in particular.”
He pauses, and I can’t breathe, can’t watch anymore. I stare down at Naomi’s hand, my mind torturing me with thoughts of what they’ll do to her. How can I protect her?
“We’re fairly certain it was a former ally of ours. It’s no secret that Dr. Greta Wagner has been unsuccessfully attempting to hijack the Europa Mission ever since we cut ties with Wagner Enterprises.” Dr. Takumi’s voice barely disguises his rage.
My body sags with shock. He doesn’t even suspect us. And of all people, he thinks it was that scientist Naomi idolizes, whose book is currently sitting by my bed? I glance at Naomi, finding my own guilt and astonishment reflected in her eyes.
“There’s something else,” Dr. Takumi says—and this time, I could swear he is looking straight at the two of us.
“We’ll be making our selections for the Final Six earlier than previously announced. Tomorrow, in fact. This security breach has only highlighted the time-sensitive nature of our mission.”
Twenty-Four
NAOMI
HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO WRONG?
I stare at the hopeless spectacle of this new Dot, and I can feel the bile rising in my throat. How could I have messed up on such a colossal scale? I thought I knew what I was doing, that I got in and out quickly enough to keep Dot safe—but I’m clearly just an amateur who tried and failed to punch above her own weight. And now, instead of fulfilling my aim of protecting the finalists and exposing the truth about Europa . . . I’ve managed to endanger us all. There’s no scenario where I can come forward with the biosignatures now, not when the data came from a robot that’s since been scrubbed. My notes will look like nothing more than the ramblings of a lunatic. And with Dot cut from the mission and Dr. Takumi rushing the next stage of the draft—who even knows how much damage my actions caused?
I. Screwed. Up. The words replay over and over in my mind, forming a rhythm, like the backing score to Dr. Takumi’s terrifying words. I screwed up royally, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to make it right.
I glance at Leo, wondering if he hates me now—the way I’m beginning to hate myself. Should I confess? If I do, the wrong person will no longer be blamed . . . and maybe my data on the biosignatures could actually be taken seriously, if I’m willing to give up my freedom for it. But all too quickly, another image comes to mind: my family being forced to pay for my crime. The thought of any harm coming to them, of Sam’s medical treatment being withheld, forces me to be selfish and keep my secret. Dr. Wagner has the resources to escape the ISTC and the government’s reach. We don’t.
And there’s something else. By confessing, I’m removing the one finalist who knows the truth, whose understanding of extraterrestrials and microbiology could help keep the Final Six alive on Europa. Me.
I need to go with them.
As soon as we’re excused, Leo and I break out of our seats and make a beeline for the elevators. We jump in the second the doors open, and once we’re alone, I bury my face against his chest. And then I feel his arms stiffen around me.
“I thought for sure I wouldn’t see you this morning,” comes the sound of Beckett’s voice as he slips into the elevator after us.
I freeze. “Why in the world would you think that?”
“Just a feeling I had,” he says breezily. “You know. After last night.”
The elevator doors open onto the Hab floor, and I watch, my stomach churni
ng, as he saunters off.
“What is he talking about?” Leo asks.
I cover my face with my palms. I can’t believe I have more than one giant blunder to admit to. “He caught me trying to sneak into your room last night,” I mutter. “And . . . he might have seen something a whole lot more incriminating, too.”
But as Leo groans at this latest curveball, I realize something else. If Beckett did see Dot leave my room, he’s obviously not covering for me out of the goodness of his heart. He plans on lording this over me, using the information to get something from me. The question is . . . what does he want?
“Come on.” I give Leo a gentle nudge as we reach the door to my room. “We have bigger things to worry about than whether we’re caught together in here. We need to talk.”
“Okay, but we can’t just talk in the middle of the room, where someone walking by could overhear,” he says. We step inside, and Leo strides over to my closet. “This should be safer.”
“Um. Okay.” I crawl into the closet with him, and we fold our bodies into the dark space beneath my hanging uniforms. If the stakes weren’t so high, it would almost be funny. But I sober quickly as I fill Leo in on Dot’s data, and the most monumental discoveries of all: the proof of life—and the reality of the alien bacteria inside our bodies, working its way through our muscles, our consciousness, ourselves.
Leo stares at me, his mouth open in shock.
“You don’t want to believe it,” I acknowledge. “Because the idea that we could be walking into this kind of danger threatens your view of the mission, of everything it’s come to represent for you. I get it. But—”
“It’s not that.” He swallows hard. “I—there’s something I should tell you. Before I left Italy, the prime minister’s daughter told me something she overheard—that I was chosen for the Twenty-Four because my underwater skills could make me some sort of weapon on Europa.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Seriously? And you never shared that because . . . ?”
Leo gives me a sheepish look.
“I didn’t take it seriously at first. Besides, all I’ve wanted this whole time is to make the Final Six. The last thing I was going to do is poke holes in the reason I’m a finalist. But when I saw that change come over Beckett in the diving pool after the RRB shots, and knowing how the serum affected me in the water, too . . .” He takes a deep breath. “I’m starting to believe Dr. Takumi and the ISTC are grooming us to adapt to the extraterrestrials’ world—so we can eventually overtake them, and make Europa our world.”
I gape at him, speechless, as all the jarring pieces fall into place.
“It makes sense,” I whisper, when I find my voice. “Especially the secrecy. Because who would sign off on this mission if they knew upfront what we’re up against? So, instead, Dr. Takumi is giving us the tools through the RRB and our training.” I shiver, a chill running through my body. “In his mind, it’s maybe even a part of terraforming: clearing out the underwater life and making Europa humans-only. And we can’t let that happen. No matter how frightening it may be to us, the life that came before is the life that belongs there.”
Leo nods, and I can see it in his eyes—the crushing realization of what the mission really entails.
“That’s why I need to go,” I continue. “I have to be one of the Final Six.”
Leo’s expression turns incredulous. “What? After everything you said about needing to get back home, about how this mission is a likely recipe for death . . . are you saying the proof of alien life actually changed your mind?”
“No. It just made me realize where I’m most needed.” I take Leo’s hand in mine. “The other finalists are going into this blind. If I can use my scientific ability to keep cracking at the mystery of what kind of life is waiting for us up there and how we might survive alongside it, then the Final Six needs me. I failed Dot, but maybe I can make up for that now—by trying to keep the rest of the six safe.”
Leo gazes at me with an expression that fills my cheeks with heat. “Every time I’m sure I’ve figured you out, you show me another layer. Maybe that’s another reason why I . . . can’t imagine going back to a life without you.” He wraps his arms around me and I close my eyes, his touch my only comfort.
“It’s all in Dr. Takumi’s hands now,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got to do something. I have to make sure we go up there together.”
Twenty-Five
LEO
TONIGHT IS THE SPACE CAMP VERSION OF THE LAST SUPPER: our last dinner before the Final Six are unveiled tomorrow. The mood in the cafeteria is how I imagine soldiers must feel on the eve of deployment—only in this case, the war we’re afraid of returning to is at home. If I thought the nerves and anticipation were extreme leading up to the first elimination, the tension in the air tonight could power an entire city. Especially mine. Not only do I need to make the final draft, I need to make it with her. The only way I can get through tomorrow is if not just one, but two prayers are answered.
Naomi and I sit at a table with Sydney, Minka, Dev, and Henri, all of us too anxious to swallow a bite of food. I glance at Dr. Takumi on and off throughout the hour as I make my decision. And then, when he moves to the door at the end of dinner, I jump out of my seat, catching him just as he exits.
“Dr. Takumi, can I talk to you?” I blurt out. “It will only take a second.”
He arches an eyebrow. “What is it, Leonardo?”
“I just wanted to say that . . . there are two people here who were born for this mission. I know I have the underwater skills to get us through the ice crust of Europa. And training on the same team as Naomi Ardalan has convinced me that she has the brains to keep us alive in space.” I take a deep breath. “This mission is what I’ve been living for, ever since the day I was drafted. I know it’s your decision, but I just wanted to—to promise you: Naomi and I are both the right choice.”
A long pause follows and I wait, every muscle in my body tensing, while Dr. Takumi gives me an inscrutable look. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says finally. “Goodnight, Leonardo.”
He turns away, leaving me wondering, hoping, that my plea made the right impact.
It’s here. The morning of the announcement. The moment all of us have been simultaneously dreading and waiting for. My stomach’s been turning somersaults all night from nerves, and as I glance in the mirror while getting ready, I notice the dark circles under my eyes, the sleep-deprived pallor of my skin. Lark had instructed us to show up “camera-ready,” but I’m barely thinking about the press and the public, who we’ll be facing for the first time in weeks. All I can think about is the impending decision.
The finalists reconvene at the top of the Hab-floor staircase, and as soon as Naomi spots me, she cuts through the others till she’s by my side.
“I feel sick,” she moans. “I can’t take this kind of nerves.”
I hold her gaze, aching to touch her, to comfort her with more than just words. “I know. I feel the same. But it—it’ll be over soon. And hopefully we’ll be celebrating.”
A hush comes over the finalists, and Naomi and I turn to see Dr. Takumi and General Sokolov striding toward us.
“Good morning,” Dr. Takumi greets us. “Is everyone ready?”
Of course we’re not. But we all nod and follow the two of them into the elevator, down to the official entrance that we haven’t seen since arrival day—a lifetime ago. Stepping off the elevator, we can hear the same marching band from that first day, too. They’re playing “The Star-Spangled Banner” as Dr. Takumi pushes through the doors to the ISTC front steps, the rest of us following in his wake. Naomi and I move slightly closer as we walk together into the roar of the crowd, the two of us blinking against the blaze of flashbulbs.
General Sokolov instructs us to line up on the steps, behind the makeshift podium and microphone set up for Dr. Takumi. I stand between Naomi and Ana Martinez, and as Dr. Takumi steps up to the microphone and the crowd quiets, Naomi brushes her fing
ertips against mine. In this moment, with tensions running so high, we’re both forgetting our unspoken rule: to never touch in public, never give ourselves away.
“Are you all ready to discover the names and faces of the Final Six?” Dr. Takumi shouts out, pumping up a crowd that doesn’t need any more energizing. “Here we go!”
Naomi turns to me. “I’m too afraid to watch,” she whispers.
“Me, too. Just look at me,” I murmur back. “It’ll be okay.”
“Your lieutenant commander is Dev Khanna from India!”
The crowd erupts while the band launches into the opening notes of the Indian national anthem. I smile to myself, happy for Dev. He’s one of the good guys here.
“The mission medical officer is Sydney Pearle from Canada! Copilot is Jian Soo of China!”
I try to keep my eyes on Naomi, to stay calm, as the terror builds within me. It’s down to the wire now. If we’re not among these last three names . . .
“Our science officer is Minka Palladin from Ukraine. And the underwater specialist—”
I stand up straighter as Naomi grips my hand tighter.
“—is Beckett Wolfe of the United States of America.”
No. No.
My vision blurs; all the blood rushes to my head. This can’t be happening. He didn’t take my spot—he couldn’t have.
“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” I hear Naomi say, looking up at me desperately. “We’ll go home together, we’ll find another way to help the Final Six. You’ll meet my family, and we can have the kind of life—”
She stops suddenly as the unthinkable happens.
“Last but not least, our communications and technology specialist is Naomi Ardalan, also from the United States!”
I want to shout, to scream—but I can’t make a sound. Naomi’s legs buckle beneath her, and she grips my arm, my own horror reflected in her eyes.
This can’t be real. We can’t be separated forever, she can’t go to Europa while I stay behind, with nothing left but her memory. It’s like losing my family all over again. Just when my world seemed to be opening up, all hope is gone.
The Final Six Page 22
