The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,24

I feel my body begin to relax at the comforting sight of the stacks, at the nostalgic scent of leather-bound books. Libraries have always been my happy place, and as long as I have one I can escape to here . . . well, I just might survive whatever is thrown at me.

“What’s the deal with the Wi-Fi?” Beckett asks, eyeing the row of desktop computers.

“Internet access is only available to finalists here in the library,” Lark answers. “We have a list of preapproved websites you can access, and online video-chatting will also be made available to you once a week, to contact your families—”

“Wait, what?” I interrupt. Lark shoots me a look of disapproval, clearly not a fan of being cut off midsentence, but I can’t help myself. “What are preapproved websites? Does that include email?”

“Considering that you are all training and competing for a spot on the most important mission in history, Dr. Takumi and General Sokolov can’t allow for any unnecessary distractions,” she says tersely. “So that means email, texting, and all social media are off-limits at ISTC. However, those of you who are chosen for the Final Six will have full internet access at all times aboard the spacecraft.”

I stare at Lark in disbelief. I was counting on emailing my family every day, on having round-the-clock messages from Sam and my parents to hold on to whenever I missed them too much to breathe. That was supposed to be my one solace while we were apart. I should have guessed it wouldn’t be that simple. We might as well be prisoners here.

“And I thought leaving my phone behind was tough,” Asher says with a woeful shrug. But I’m not as able to let it go.

“So basically we’re restricted from contact with the rest of the world, until the point at which we literally have to leave the world?” I give Lark a desperate look, hoping she’ll recognize how unfair this. Maybe she can go to bat for us—

“Don’t worry,” Beckett says, his voice dripping with condescension. “As soon as you get cut, you can go running back to posting selfies.”

I flash him a withering glare and am just about to make a snappy comeback when Lark holds up her hands.

“Enough. Trust me when I say that you’ll be so busy here, you won’t even have the time or energy to go online. And now, if you’ll follow me, there’s more to see in this room.”

Lark leads the way past the stacks and into a lounge opening off the library, complete with leather armchairs, a projection screen, and a cabinet lined with DVDs.

“This is where most astronauts-in-training like to relax in the hour break between dinner and curfew,” she says. “And if you still haven’t gotten your fill of space by the end of the day, we have all the movies you could want, even the old classics like Interstellar and Hidden Figures.”

“What about Apollo 13?” Katerina asks with a sly grin.

Lark pauses. “Yeah. Believe it or not, we do have that one.” She clears her throat. “Okay, one last stop before I show you to your dorms.”

I follow Lark and my teammates out the door, still stewing over the ironhanded internet restrictions. Why was I the only one to object? Maybe my cofinalists are afraid to rock the boat, but how could they not care that we’re being effectively shut off from the outside world? Plus, “preapproved websites” sounds like just a fancy term for censorship. I’m willing to bet my life that Space Conspirator won’t be on it, or any other site that doesn’t further the Europa Mission’s agenda. This isn’t the NASA I know, that I grew up worshipping.

Then again, no one here is even pretending that it is. The ISTC has taken over . . . and that means a whole new set of rules.

Once the seven of us are piled into the elevator, Lark presses the button for the top floor. “Most of your time will be spent indoors, so Dr. Takumi has generously made the Telescope Tower available to the finalists during your downtime. It may be small, but it’s my favorite spot on campus.”

The lift doors open to the outside heat. We follow Lark down a concrete pathway to a spiral staircase, which leads to the circular balcony above us. A tall sheet of plexiglass serves as a railing, making it impossible for anyone to fall . . . or jump. And at the center of the tower is its