Honor Among Thieves (The Honors #1)(19)

Marko seemed to take my silence for concern. “Don’t worry, the full trip is covered by the Honors program. They won’t have to pay exorbitant shuttle fees to go home.”

“Good.” Hell, maybe I’d made Mom happy and proud, for once.

Then Marko dumped a bucket of ice on my joy. “Your father will be there too.”

“What?” I curled my hand into a fist.

“He will meet us in New York tomorrow, before the ceremony. I’m sorry there won’t be more time for you to spend with him.”

I wasn’t sorry. I didn’t know what I was going to say to that asshole, who’d taken a belt to me because I couldn’t stop screaming with the headaches, right up until the Paradise operation that had finally fixed it. Way too late.

“Well,” I said, and turned to look out the window at the city gliding past. “There are probably financial perks for having an Honors daughter, right? Makes sense he’d show up.”

Marko elaborated, thinking that was an actual question, not rhetorical, but I tuned him out. I made noncommittal noises until we reached the terminal. I slid out of the e-car and saw that more media coverage awaited; I had no interest in giving interviews. Marko clued in to my mood and bypassed the circus with an oh-so-photogenic smile and wave. That didn’t mean they gave up, so I resigned myself to having my face splashed all over the holo. If looks could have exploded drones and head-cams, I’d have been charged with a capital offense.

Inside, the terminal shone with chrome and polish, people in suits hurrying to catch their trains, families huddled together around their luggage. An enormous antique clock was all that remained from the historic station the terminal had replaced twenty years back. I stared up at it for a few seconds as my new reality gradually sank in.

“We’re this way,” Marko said, and pointed to a part of the terminal cordoned off with barriers and police. More press.

And an actual red carpet.

“No,” I said, and laughed, because that just couldn’t be right.

“Ready?” Marko asked.

Obviously not. “Can I use the bathroom first?”

He hesitated. “You won’t disappear?”

“I swear. You can let me pee in peace.”

“I’ll keep watch on the hall. For your protection, the press can be a little aggressive,” he said, and there was a little bit of color flushing his cheeks now. He was probably cursing the luck that had landed him with the worst Honors recruit in history.

But he didn’t argue. He escorted me to the facilities and waited just beyond the hallway. I suspected he was standing guard more to keep me from bolting than to keep reporters and drone cams at bay. I did go, and washed my hands after, but I needed the quiet pause more than anything. The relaxing chems from the e-car had started to fade, so my nerves jolted hard as questions boiled over in my brain. What am I doing? Can I really do this? Should I?

I stared at myself, seeing a thin, brown-skinned girl with dark, scared eyes and a heart-shaped face, crowned with a pile of curls that still needed work. I didn’t look polished or prepared. Reading the advertisements scrolling at the bottom of the mirror, I tried to tell myself I was doing the right thing.

But I wanted to run. I’d never wanted to run so much in my whole life.





CHAPTER FIVE


Breaking Orbit


AS SOON AS Marko spotted me coming out of the restroom, he wasted no time dragging me off to board.

The rail car shivered as it powered up, and music blared from terminal speakers outside. We glided out of the private area into the main terminal, and through the darkened windows I saw that people had congregated in huge numbers to watch our departure. Some carried handmade signs, hastily fashioned, with my name on them, and with a shock, I even recognized the old woman who sold my favorite steamed pork buns in the Zone; she was holding a painstakingly lettered placard that read, GO, ZARA! LOWER EIGHT REPRESENT!

At that moment, it hit me how major this was.

“You ready for this?” Marko asked me, and I nodded. He hit a control, and the window cleared, so they could see us.

I raised my hand to wave, and the crowd went nuts. I could feel the emotion rushing out of them, into me, like sunlight. I stood by the window until the crowd rolled by, until the city disappeared into a tangle of wires overhead and weeds that grew under the elevated tracks. With nothing left to see, I adjusted the tint on the window so it showed me only my bemused reflection.

I flinched when a handheld hit the wood table beside me. “Required. There’s a lot to get through. We have four hours on the direct route—try to read and absorb as much of it as you can. Believe me, there will be a lot more once we get to New York.”

I shoved it back toward him. “I’m not into homework.” He gave me a look I recognized from every disappointed teacher. “Look, I said I’d accept. I didn’t say I’d study on it, did I?”

“You’d better try,” he told me. “If you fail orientation, you’ll be eliminated, and an alternate selected.”

“So I go on my way. Big deal.”

“No,” he said, and it sounded like real regret. “You go back where we found you.”

Back to Camp Kuna, where the CEO was ready to checkmark me right into the hands of Torian Deluca . . . or max prison. Either way, my life would be over.