I regarded them, I realized why Cobb might have let me do this. I was less than two months away from graduation. On one hand, it seemed incredible that so much time had passed. On the other, a lot had been packed into those few months.
Either way, I’d soon have been given access to this place. Maybe Cobb knew I’d inevitably find the secrets, so he didn’t mind letting me in now? Or was it that he feared I’d somehow be denied this privilege, even if I did graduate? So he was making certain I got the chance now.
I didn’t dare ask for directions; I couldn’t risk someone noticing the color of my pin and asking why a cadet was in here. I poked through the musty, too-quiet room until I found a wall of small metal cases with dates and battle names on the spines. They were perhaps four centimeters square, and I watched as a pilot took one from the wall and plugged it into a viewing machine. She leaned forward, settling her eyes into the headset to watch.
This was what I wanted, though these cases only went back five years. Around the corner, I found a second room. The door was closed, but the windows along the sides showed it had more cases inside. I tried Cobb’s code on the door.
It opened, and I slipped inside, heart thumping. Nobody else was in here, and the short rack of metal cases counted backward all the way to . . . to the one. The Battle of Alta. There were a few before it, but this one seemed to glow on the shelf, beckoning me.
There weren’t any missing spots in this row. These didn’t get moved often. There also wasn’t a viewing device in here. So . . . did I just grab it and go?
Bold. Defiant. Even if lately you don’t feel like you’re either one.
I palmed the case and ducked out of the room. No alarms sounded. Not quite believing it, I stepped out of the building, my prize in hand.
The secret. Right here, in my fingers. I owed Cobb an enormous debt—not just for today, but for everything. For making space for me in his classroom, when no one else would give me a chance. For suffering me all these weeks, for not punching me square in the face when I’d called him a coward.
I’d make it up to him. Somehow. I tucked the data square into my pocket and strode toward the training building. I could probably plug this in to my mockpit, though could I even use that while on medical leave?
I was so single-minded in my attention that I didn’t notice the people I was passing until one called out to me. “Wait. Spin?”
I froze, then turned. It was FM, wearing a skirt. Like, a real skirt and blouse, her short blonde hair done with silver barrettes.
“Stars, where have you been?” she said, grabbing me by the arm. “In your cave?”
“Where else would I be?”
“You have leave.” she said. “The domineering authoritaria has relaxed its viselike grip on us. We can go off base.”
“I go off base every night.”
“This is different,” she said, pulling me by my arm. “Come on. You’re lucky Quirk sent me to fetch something for her.”
“Kimmalyn?” I said. “You’ve seen her since she left?”
“Of course I have. It’s not like she moved to another planet or something. Come on.”
I wasn’t likely to change FM’s mind when she was in one of her crusading moods . . . so I let her tow me after her. Out past the gates of the base. Along the rows of buildings, into one I’d never paid much attention to before.
Which held a completely new world.
38
The restaurant wasn’t much, really. A jumble of tables full of younger pilots and cadets. Dim lighting. A man playing hand drums in the corner for some music.
FM pulled me to a table where Arturo sat with his arm around a girl I didn’t recognize—short hair, brown skin. Kimmalyn sat primly at the table with a very large, very purple drink in front of her. Next to her was Nedd.
Nedd. I hadn’t seen him in weeks. Ever since that night on the launchpad! He had on trousers and a button-up shirt, and a jacket was draped across the back of the chair. It was strange to see him in street clothes. Especially next to Arturo, who had on his cadet’s jumpsuit.
I could hear Nedd’s easygoing voice over the hum