The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,71
say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry. Really sorry. I—we just thought this would be our only chance to be alone,” I fib.
Lark shakes her head. “I warned them about bringing teenage hormones into this. But of course, no one listened to me!”
“What—what did you tell Dr. Takumi and the general?” I ask. “About us, I mean.”
“You’re both lucky I thought on my feet. When the others noticed you were gone, I put two and two together and figured out what you were really up to.” She gives me a pointed look. “So I said I saw you both come running to the tunnel just before the door closed, and that you missed it.”
The same excuse I planned, I note with amusement.
“General Sokolov wanted to open the door in case you were still there waiting, but I said you’d probably gone back to your rooms by then and it wasn’t worth exposing the rest of us to the elements. But if she or Dr. Takumi had pressed the issue and found out that you’d disobeyed their orders to go suck face—well, the two of you would be toast.”
I’m too mortified to look her in the eye—and also a bit deflated at the realization that my personal life is a whole lot more exciting in Lark’s mind than in reality. But I am curious about one thing.
“Why did you cover for us? I’m incredibly grateful, believe me,” I add hurriedly. “I just can’t help wondering, since you seem awfully . . . mad.”
“Oh, I am mad,” she says icily. “But I already lost one team member before the first eliminations. The last thing I want is to show up on Friday as the only leader with half their team already gone. I know Dr. Takumi, and he would blame me for your transgressions.”
So she’s not looking out for us out of the goodness of her heart. But in a way, her motive makes it easier for me to believe we really are safe . . . at least for now. I feel my muscles begin to relax.
“Thank you, Lark. I mean it.”
“This is the only time, though,” she warns me. “From now on, you two are going to have to do a much better job of covering up whatever is going on here—or better yet, nipping it in the bud. It can only work against you with Dr. Takumi and the general.”
“You’re right.” I nod automatically. “I’m sorry. We, uh . . . we’ll end it.” Before it’s even begun.
She moves toward the door, seemingly satisfied by my remorse.
“One more thing,” she says on her way out. “You owe me one. Remember that.”
The power is back on by morning, but when we arrive at the cafeteria, Dr. Takumi announces that the day’s training sessions have all been canceled.
“The staff here at ISTC and Johnson Space Center need to focus on repairs and equipment checks in the aftermath of last night,” he explains. “So after breakfast, instead of going into a training session, you’ll be following me to the media room.”
I watch Dr. Takumi carefully as he speaks, trying to gauge whether anything is different—if he has any inkling that something went down in the robotics lab last night, or if he bought Lark’s explanation of where me and Leo were. But when his eyes roam over our team table and land on me, his expression is unreadable. I wonder if I can take that as a good sign.
Dr. Takumi leads the way to a space we haven’t seen before, a small room at the end of the Hab floor that resembles a movie theater. A large screen unfurls across the front wall, the image paused on what looks like the TV news—something we haven’t been allowed to watch since we arrived here. Once we’re all seated, Dr. Takumi paces to the front of the screen.
“Last night, we experienced a taste of the devastation that shook the American South with its effects felt even farther beyond: a 7.0 earthquake, and a midlevel tsunami triggered by the quake’s undersea megathrust,” he says. “Thanks to our extreme precaution methods, Johnson Space Center suffered comparatively little damage. However, very few buildings in the country are privileged with this level of protection. You will find that the majority of others in our region did not fare as well.”
My stomach clenches at his words. How many died? How far did the disaster stretch? Please let California be safe, I pray silently. Please let my family be untouched by this.