exist across open electron environments,” Yangborne shouted, over the hum of the machine. “This represents not a new technology, but a new framework for our species.” He flipped the switch on Turner’s cage. The light came on, and she flew to the lever. “Civilizations more advanced than ours require it—no secrets, no individualism, just shared information and emotion. That evolution begins now—”
With force, he slammed forward the lever to the light on Hooch’s cage.
Hooch stood perfectly still at the center.
He turned it off, then back on again several times, but it didn’t change a thing. “His brain should be stimulated . . .”
But Hooch didn’t care. He sat on his butt in the center, blinking and doing nothing else.
Eventually, Yangborne gave up, and switched off the computer. “I’m sorry to disappoint everyone.” He spoke to the instructors huddled at the back. “Looks like our classes have a bit more work to do. But like I say, in science, if only one experiment in a hundred is successful . . .”
Slowly, everyone filtered out of the room, the B-School first, and the C-School after, mumbling to each other.
Neesha was among the last to file out and felt herself drawn toward the front. Yangborne still hovered at the case, wallowing silently as he stared at the rats.
“Mine would have worked,” she mumbled in his direction without thinking.
Yangborne looked up. “I don’t even know what yours is, Neesha.”
“It’s an amphetamine—”
“You say that. But I don’t know that.”
“You’ve seen the work—”
“You have no results,” he said, voice raised, drawing the attention of a few lingering students. Zaza poked his head back in through the door. “You’ve shown no initiative to test your work. Until it’s proven, it’s nothing.”
Neesha felt a lump form in her throat. “Except I know it works.”
He shook his head. “That’s not science, Neesha. The work we do here is the light of the world. We don’t get to slack off, and we don’t get to speculate. I need you to do better.”
Neesha didn’t move, still hovering between the desks.
“I have results.”
Yangborne was already moving to his desk. “I haven’t authorized a single experiment for you yet.”
“I did some outside of class.”
He stopped. Everyone waiting in the doorway stopped. Yangborne looked her up and down. “You know that’s not allowed,” he said, but he didn’t look angry. “I trust you were safe?”
She nodded.
He pursed his lips. “Well, as a matter of discipline,” he said, using the word lightly, “I’ll need to see them.”
Neesha smiled. “Absolutely.”
As soon as she had cleared the door of the C-School, into the lounge, Zaza rushed up on her from behind. “Are you serious?”
She rolled her eyes but slowed to let him to catch up. Overassertive as he always was, it was strangely comforting to have someone freaking out more than her.
“Just curious,” he said. “Do you remember a day, in the distant past, when we said no one should ever know you were involved with Apex?”
“Yesterday—”
“It was yesterday!” He smacked a passing Year Two in the forehead with an animated gesture. “Then, today, you decide it’s cool to just let Yangborne in on your experiment? Why?”
Neesha shrugged but didn’t answer.
“I already know. You told me last night. But, for the sake of argument, do you think maybe there’s something more important than the Discovery Trophy? Like, not going to jail, for instance?”
“Jesus, you’re dramatic.”
“Nope, this is rational. This is what rational looks like.”
“I’m not going to show him everything, just a little.”
“And you don’t think that comes back to you?”
She shrugged again.
“You don’t think, with the school turning over every rock to try to find Emma, that it’s going to come back to you?”
She shrugged again.
“Wow. You are taking this trophy way too serious—”
“Oh, I’m the one being too serious?”
“This is high school,” he said, rounding the corner with her, following her down her dorm hallway. “There’s gonna be plenty of trophies to discover—”
“God, you sound just like her.”
“Like who?”
“Like Emma.” She stopped in the middle of the hall. “She was always saying shit like that. ‘Oh, why do you care so much about this?’ ‘Oh, you take this too seriously.’ It’s fucking exhausting, being told what’s okay for me to care about and what’s not.”
Zaza rubbed his head. “Well. In this case, she was right.”
“No.” Neesha shook her head. “She was lying, mostly.”
“Lying about what?”
“She wasn’t saying that for my well-being. She was saying that because she didn’t want me to focus on the actual experiment. She wanted me to focus on selling it, so