“How about this: let’s go look out the window and decide whether to dance from there.”

You know what? Fine. I’ll go. If she can’t get over herself, I’ll stick around for a bit before leaving.

“Sure.”

I gulp the rest of my Glowbull, then follow Glacia into the ballroom, being careful to stay far enough behind her so people don’t think we’re together. If a guy grabs her for a dance, fine by me.

But no such luck.

Ambient music fills the ballroom, and dozens of shape-shifting holograms float overhead, pulsing in different colors to the beat. People flail their arms, shove each other, and hop up and down. John’s head bounces in the middle of a tight circle, but I can’t tell if people are cheering him on or trying to avoid him.

Glacia and I reach the enclosed corridor on the other side. It’s shielded from the sounds of the other room, which deaden to dull beats emanating through the walls once the glass door seals shut.

The windows here face east and stand floor to ceiling, allowing for a grand view of the Embassy and the desert beyond. The sun has already set, but its fading aura still illuminates the horizon, and the black silhouettes of mesas stand inside the reddish glow, as if the veil of night is resting upon their tops. The Main Throughway—which is outlined by strips of white light—cuts through the flat darkness to Horizon Tower’s launch outpost.

Inside the city, Threshold Tower stands slightly to the left of my view, and straight ahead is the Hologis arena, several blocks from the Crown. Chains of white light outline the arena, and the diagonal glass panels along its sides reflect fragments of the streets below them.

Hovercrafts roam the sky. Some descend toward the city, circling around to the docking platforms, and others shrink into the empty horizon. On the ground, red and white lights slide along the streets. Intersections flash stop signals. Windows flicker in buildings, forming meaningless patterns in the sides of otherwise-dark towers. As I stare out, a soft sensation flutters within my chest.

It’s all so alive.

“Beautiful, huh?” Glacia says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ve never been this high up.”

In the window, her reflection folds its arms. The real Glacia leans her shoulder against the glass and faces me.

“I’m excited to start piloting,” she says. “And Hologis. Can’t forget that. What are you looking forward to?”

I shrug, but don’t look away from the city.

“Expeditions, I guess.”

“Those’ll be cool. Do you have a favorite planet?”

“Belvun.”

“That’s where your friend lives?”

“Yup.”

Glacia bobs her head. “Hopefully we can fix all that stuff.”

“Yup.”

“Its desert is spreading, right? Your father was working on a treatise to stop it?”