LEO
INSTEAD OF THE MIRROR SCREEN ALARM, I WAKE UP TO THE sound of someone flinging open my bedroom door. I scramble upright, covering my bare chest as Lark steps in.
“No breakfast in the cafeteria today,” she says by way of greeting. “Dr. Takumi called a press conference in the media room. Get dressed and meet your fellow finalists there right away.”
“Is everything oka—”
But she’s already on to the next room before I can get my question out. I climb out of bed, an onset of nerves kicking in. Something tells me that whatever this is . . . it’s going to be bad.
I throw on my uniform and hurry out the door, catching up with Henri and the other Russian finalist, Evgeni, at the end of the boys’ corridor.
“Do you guys know what’s going on?” I ask as we rush down the stairs.
“No clue,” Henri answers, and Evgeni shakes his head. But they both look almost as worried as I feel.
We arrive in the media room to find a grim-faced Dr. Takumi and General Sokolov standing at the foot of the stage before a half-dozen news cameras. The sight of outsiders infiltrating our training-camp bubble gives me a shudder of foreboding.
More than half of my fellow finalists fill the seats in front of the stage, and I scan their faces, looking for Naomi—but there’s no sign of her. I follow Henri and Evgeni into the second row and slide in next to Dev Khanna, leaving the aisle seat beside me empty for her.
“Any idea what’s happening?” I glance at Dev, hoping against the odds that he might have some reassuring info. But he shakes his head. We wait silently, with him watching the stage and me eyeing the door, until he nudges me in the ribs. “Look.”
I follow Dev’s gaze to the opposite side of the aisle—where General Sokolov leads a stumbling Dot toward the stage. My mouth falls open as I watch Dot struggling to walk, like some kind of robot toddler. I hear Sydney Pearle try to greet Dot, and I see the robot stare at her blankly in return . . . as if she’s never seen her before. A pit of dread sets in my stomach.
“What’s going on?”
It’s Naomi. I breathe a sigh of relief. As long as she’s here in the audience with us, she couldn’t have been caught . . . right?
I point out the sight of the clumsy, infantile Dot limping her way up the stage, helped along by the general. Dev leans over to the two of us.
“It looks like they reset Dot.”
Naomi closes her eyes, shaking her head.
“Reset?” I repeat. “What does that mean, exactly?”
But before they can answer me, Dr. Takumi steps up to the microphone. He leans forward, staring into the eyes of the cameras. “Early this morning, the Johnson Space Center was the victim of an attempted security breach. I want to assure everyone that no harm was done. However, we had to act quickly. Seeing as the security breach occurred in one of our most classified, high-level robots, we had no choice but to restore the AI, Dot, to her original settings before she could be compromised any further. All of her stored memory, data, and functions have been scrubbed. Dot will need to relearn her skills—and will no longer accompany the Final Six to Europa.”
My stomach drops. Naomi grabs my arm as a collective gasp fills the air. I can tell from her shallow breaths that she is on the verge of panic, just like me, and I force myself to keep a poker face even as I feel my body twitching, threatening to give us away.
“However, there will still be two robots on the mission,” Dr. Takumi continues. “While it’s less than ideal, a backup AI we recently finished testing will take Dot’s place and serve alongside Cyb.”
One of the reporters raises his hand.
“Do you have any idea who could be responsible for such a treacherous act?”
Naomi digs her nails into my arm, and I brace myself for the worst. This is it. We’re caught, and they’re going to take her away—
“That information has not been confirmed,” Dr. Takumi says coolly. “However, we have reason to suspect someone in particular.”
He pauses, and I can’t breathe, can’t watch anymore. I stare down at Naomi’s hand, my mind torturing me with thoughts of what they’ll do to her. How can I protect her?
“We’re fairly certain it was a former ally of ours. It’s no secret that Dr. Greta Wagner has been unsuccessfully attempting to hijack the Europa Mission ever since we cut ties with Wagner Enterprises.” Dr. Takumi’s voice barely disguises his rage.
My body sags with shock. He doesn’t even suspect us. And of all people, he thinks it was that scientist Naomi idolizes, whose book is currently sitting by my bed? I glance at Naomi, finding my own guilt and astonishment reflected in her eyes.
“There’s something else,” Dr. Takumi says—and this time, I could swear he is looking straight at the two of us.
“We’ll be making our selections for the Final Six earlier than previously announced. Tomorrow, in fact. This security breach has only highlighted the time-sensitive nature of our mission.”