When we finish at the range, we ride the elevator to the upper level and savor the air conditioning before the submitting to the afternoon heat. Lucas arranged us for an appointment with Chancellor Green at six o’clock, so we begin the walk back to the Crown. As we near the second block, two hovercrafts fly overhead, followed closely by a smaller vehicle that dips below them.

“That,” Lucas says, pointing up at the smaller craft, “is a Molter. Classic military cavalry equipped with laser turrets, rockets, and sonic cannons.”

“Those can’t be used in space though,” John interrupts. “Sound waves don’t work in space.”

“True, very good,” Lucas agrees. “We have to rely on lasers and MRRs to clear asteroids and debris.”

“MRRs?” Ellin asks.

“Magnetic Resonance Repulsors,” Lucas says. “Shields generated around stations and other space vehicles. Larson Remmit designed them. He works with Victoria on the Ember. Man’s a genius. He’s up in orbit right now, so I’m sure you’ll meet—”

Shouts rise ahead of us. I scan the street expecting to see a car accident or a fight, but no: people are looking skyward. The entire intersection has come to a standstill. Lucas runs forward, hand on his holotab, ready to make an emergency call. But when he reaches the intersection, he turns and urges us to join him.

I shield my eyes from the evening glare, but the sight is impossible to miss. A dark orange orb of light burns in the sky like a second sun, brighter than any star I’ve ever seen.

“A supernova,” Ellin says.

“And it’s about time, too,” a man beside her says. “That’s Kairos, fifty-seven light-years away. To be alive when its light reached us is just…wow.”

As we stand there, another group of Recruits passes us, weaving ahead of the stopped crowds as more people gather to admire the supernova. Some even take pictures with holotabs.

“So,” Lucas says once we’re free again, “I heard that someone was boasting about how she could beat me and Gort in Hologis.”

He winks at Glacia, who looks at him innocently.

“Maybe I did,” she says innocently.

“Would you put money on that, Miss Haverns?”

Glacia scrunches her forehead as if deep in thought. “How much?”

“Gort wants to bet twenty shims,” Lucas tells her. “That’ll buy you a decent lunch.”

Glacia scoffs. “If we’re doing this, I want fifty.”

Lucas looks like she slapped his face.

“Fifty? That’s twice the entry fee!”

“What? Out of your range?” Glacia taunts.

“N—no,” Lucas stutters. “I just…fifty each?”

“Yep.”

Lucas runs his hand through his hair and blows his cheeks out. “Fine. Deal. I’ll tell Gort.”

Chapter Seven