been preapproved to work at this crucial event. When she’d finished with the humans, she ordered the escort-droids into two single-file lines. Iko slipped into the back as they were ushered inside.
They were marched through to the drab service halls, their shoes clicking in perfect synchronization. Iko kept careful track of their progress, counting doors and comparing it with the blueprint that had been downloaded to her memory. The kitchen was precisely where she expected it and even more massive in person than it had appeared on-screen, with eight industrial-size ovens, countless burners, and three counters that ran the length of the room where dozens of chefs were chopping, kneading, whisking, and measuring as they prepared to feed twelve hundred of the galaxy’s most-honored guests.
The woman in the sari pulled a man in a chef’s coat aside. “The androids,” she yelled over the din, gesturing to Iko and the others. “Where do you want them?”
He scanned the line, his attention briefly snagging on Iko’s blue hair. Evidently he determined that it wasn’t in his job description to care, and he let his gaze slide past her. “Leave them there for now. We’ll send them out with the regular staff during the first course. All they have to do is carry a tray and smile. Think they can handle it?”
“We’ve been ensured that their programming is immaculate. It would be best if they could focus on our Lunar guests. I want them alert in case anything … untoward happens.”
He shrugged. “No one on my staff wants anything to do with the Lunars.”
The man returned to his work, organizing gold trays at different workstations, and the woman left without another look at the androids.
Iko stood very, very still, and she was very, very well behaved, and she waited. And waited. And tried to imagine what was happening with Cinder and Cress and the others. None of the kitchen staff paid them any attention other than to shoot them the occasional glare for taking up too much space in the overcrowded kitchens.
Iko waited until she was confident no one was looking, before she inched her hand behind the escort beside her. The android didn’t even twitch as Iko sought out the latch on her neck, opened it, and ran her fingers over the control panel. She pushed up a switch.
“Now accepting input commands,” said the android in a voice that was not quite human, not quite robot.
Iko dropped her hand to the side, and scanned the nearby chefs.
The kitchen was too loud. No one had heard.
“Follow me.”
Then, when she was again sure no one was watching, she ducked into the nearest corridor.
The android followed like a trained pet. Iko took them down two hallways, listening for voices or footsteps but finding these lesser-used areas abandoned. As expected, all available staff was preparing for the ceremony and the reception, no doubt measuring the distance between plates and soup spoons at that very moment.
When they reached a maintenance closet, Iko ushered the escort-droid inside.
“I want you to know that I hold nothing against you,” she said, by way of introduction. “I understand that it isn’t your fault your programmer had so little imagination.”
The escort-droid held her gaze with empty eyes.
“In another life, we could have been sisters, and I feel it’s important to acknowledge that.”
A blank stare. A blink, every six seconds.
“But as it stands, I’m a part of an important mission right now, and I cannot be swayed from my goal by my sympathy for androids who are less advanced than myself.”
Nothing.
“All right then.” Iko held out her hands. “I need your clothes.”
Forty-Seven
Cress dug her fingers into the hover’s seat, leaning into the window until her breath fogged against the glass. She couldn’t open her eyes wide enough, not when there was so much to see, not when she could barely take it all in. The city of New Beijing was endless. To the east, a cluster of skyscrapers rose up out of the earth, silver and glass and sparkling orange under the late afternoon sun. Beyond the city center were warehouses and arenas, parks and suburbs, rolling on and on. Cress was glad for the distraction of all the new sights, the buildings, the people … Otherwise she thought she would be sick.
She gasped as the palace came into view atop its cliff, recognizing it from countless pictures and vids. Still, it was so different in real life. Even more magnificent and imposing. She splayed her fingers on the window, framing it in