The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,81

mean?” I ask, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“There’s such a big chance of us getting separated at the end of this. It—it makes me afraid of what I feel for you,” she confesses. “I mean, one minute we were seeing Asher every day, and now we may never see him again. What if it’s the same for us?” She blinks back tears, and something tightens in my chest. “It’s just—it’s so unfair.”

“I know. But if we can get drafted together—”

“Or better yet, go back to LA together,” she interrupts, giving me a meaningful look. “You would love Sam and my parents, and we could have an actual life—”

I stop her words with a kiss. I’m not ready to contemplate getting cut. Not yet—maybe not ever.

Is it wrong of me to wonder if there’s some way I can have it all . . . the girl and the mission?

The next couple days fly by in a blur of training sessions with the general, Lieutenant Barnes, and the AIs, while my evenings are filled with Naomi. Even though neither of us shares a room anymore, we know not to risk another attempt at outsmarting the cameras and sneaking into each other’s dorms. Instead, we spend every last second between dinner and curfew together, keeping up a pretense of platonic friendship in front of the others, while our eyes tell a different story. The only place we don’t hold back is the Telescope Tower—the spot Naomi says is our safest bet for avoiding the cameras. We make it our own, the place where we can finally hold each other and kiss, after hours spent an arm’s length apart.

I fall asleep with her sweet scent on my lips; I wake up with her face in my mind. Being with her is like flying in zero gravity, even while my feet are planted firmly on the ground. There’s just one flaw to this new magic in my life: losing her would wreck me. And the closer we get to the reveal of the Final Six—the more possible that scenario becomes.

With T-minus five days left, we learn that our schedules will be shifting to mostly private training in each finalist’s area of expertise. While I’ll be spending these last days getting one-on-one instruction in drilling through Europa’s ice crust, Naomi will be in the Mission Control Center with the capsule communicator, aka CAPCOM, deciphering coded computer messages and working flight-velocity equations. It’s clear to all of us what the transition to specialized training means: Dr. Takumi and General Sokolov are auditioning us for the six crew positions.

My suspicion is confirmed when I show up to the diving pool for what I assumed was a private session, only to find Beckett there too. So I was right: the two of us are going head-to-head. I turn my face as soon as I see him, though I can feel his eyes boring a hole into my back. I won’t acknowledge him; I won’t let him psych me out.

“All right, my two divers!” Lieutenant Barnes says cheerily, oblivious to the tension between us. “Who knows the best way to drill through thirty kilometers of ice quickly in space?”

Am I supposed to know this? I stay quiet, hoping Beckett doesn’t have the answer either. Thankfully, the lieutenant plunges ahead.

“A nuclear hydrothermal drill!” he answers for us. “Here’s how it works: the underwater specialist on the Final Six will set up the drill on the landing site of Europa. Once in position and switched on, a nuclear power source in the drill will heat water and spit it back out in the form of high-powered jets to melt through the ice. At the same time, rotating drill blades beneath the water jets will chip away at the ice.” He smiles. “And that is how you will pierce Europa’s ice shell and descend into its rocky ocean and land below.”

Adrenaline courses through me. I have to beat Beckett—I have to be the one chosen for this job.

“The actual drill we plan to use is being finalized at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Lab right now, so today we’ll be working with a smaller prototype. But first, let’s warm up. Give me a twist dive followed by a two-hundred-meter freestyle.”

“Are we racing?” I ask the lieutenant, already grinning at the prospect. The First Nephew is about to get crushed.

“Yes. Leo, you can take the ten-meter board.”

I can’t resist a smirk in Beckett’s direction as I climb up to the higher diving board