Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(16)

“Wow,” I say. “Thank you.”

The glass beeps at me three times, then speaks in a high-pitched, robotic voice. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

I nearly drop it, juggling wildly for a second, then grabbing hold of it with both hands. I only barely resist the urge to say, Did that thing just speak to me?

Auri, you’re an ambassador for your whole century, Captain Hotness probably thinks you’re a complete bumpkin. Get it together.

“This thing might be smarter than I am,” I murmur.

“Aw, don’t feel bad, boss. You’re only human.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I’m top-of-the-line, new-gen uniglass technology, available nowhere outside the academy,” it shoots back. “I’m seventeen times smarter than him. And three times better-looking. You should be talking to me—”

“Silent mode,” Tyler orders.

The uniglass falls quiet, and I look at the boy sitting on the end of my bed.

“It’s my old unit,” he explains with one of those killer smiles. “It only has access to info in the academy archives, but it’s better than nothing.”

“It’s amazing,” I say. “Do they all … talk at you like that?”

“Not like that, exactly. The older models came equipped with a ‘persona’ in the operating matrix. They don’t do that anymore, the techs never got it right. So, fair warning, these models were a little buggy. And sort of … unrelentingly chirpy.”

“I think we’ll get along,” I say. “I—I really appreciate it.”

A kind gesture when you don’t know anybody—it’s water in the desert, I’m realizing. He chews his lip, a little uncertain.

“So, how are you doing with it all?” he asks.

I stare down at my uniglass, at the blinking box that says directions?

“I’m okay,” I say eventually.

I’m deciding to focus on the physical, because I don’t think we know each other well enough to go with I’m scared, alone, and as if I don’t have enough to deal with in reality, my brain’s conjuring up its own version as well, and I’m having trouble telling them apart.

That’s more a third-or fourth-date disclosure, right?

“I feel a little weak,” I say, sitting on the bed beside him. “Tired. I guess I was on the Hadfield so long, nobody really knows how I’m meant to be doing. I don’t know if it’s still dangerous, but back when we launched, we couldn’t spend a long time in the Fold. You’d start hallucinating, get paranoid …”

I trail off, because of course hallucinating is exactly what I’ve been doing.

Is paranoia next?

“It’s still dangerous.” Tyler nods. “Though it turns out Fold travel affects young minds far less. Our technology is a little different from your day, too. Back when the Hadfield launched, humans could only travel through naturally occurring gates. Weak spots in the Fold. Now, we can build our own entry and exit points, anywhere we like. There’s a big one right outside the station we’re on, matter of fact.”

“I saw …” I shake my head, remembering the sight of the station when I stormed out of my room. “So, if humans can go anywhere, where are we now?”

“That’s kinda funny, actually,” he says, nibbling his lip again.

“… What do you mean?”

“You heard of a star system called Aurora?”

I blink. “Are you messing with me?”

“We’re orbiting Gamma Aurorae, the third star in the cluster,” he says, spreading his arms to take in the station around us. “Aurora O’Malley, welcome to Aurora Academy, training facility for the Aurora Legion.”

“… I have a legion now?”

He shrugs and gives me one of those smiles, and I swear, I don’t know whether to be charmed, amazed, or completely freaked out right now.

“I went to sixteen different schools,” I say. “There was always another girl in my class called Aurora. Now I have to share my name with a star?”

“Space academy, too.”

I shake my head, find my thoughts drifting back to …

“My mom would have said it was fate.”

“The Maker had an eye on you,” Ty agrees.

I bite my lip. I have to keep looking for answers instead of more questions.

“So humans are on more than two planets now. And … we discovered aliens. I met one, last night. I think she said she’s in charge?”

“Yeah, that’s Battle Leader de Stoy,” he says. “She’s Betraskan. Their home world is Trask in the Belinari system. They live mostly underground, and they don’t process vitamin D like us, hence the lack of melanin and the contact lenses. Biologically, we’re pretty similar, though. They were the first species humanity ever made contact with. We were at war a couple of hundred years back, but they’ve been our strongest ally for generations.”

I think of the boy who appeared in my vision. The hot, angry-looking one with the pointed ears, the long, silver hair.

“Are there other, uh, species on the station? Maybe some with …” I can barely say it out loud, one finger lifting to touch the curve of my own ear. I’m going to sound like an idiot if I completely imagined him.