Tilly didn’t reply. She knew exactly what “worthy” meant. He was going to make them carry out their plan and then kill them. He was making the case news-ready, promotion-ready, politically sound, flattening their motives. She’d underestimated the thoroughness of his ambition.

Troubled, she wondered about her own ambitions. Saving these kids? Getting a promotion? Saving the city? She felt disappointed. Her ambitions were all obligations. How motherly.

“How far along did you guys get?” Tilly inquired, finally taking the time to examine the room. It felt like a temple. The floors and the walls were a shiny white marble, their surfaces so clean that the lights nested in the floor seemed to beam from all directions, like a disco ball turned outside in. A CPU in the shape of a sphere hung from the ceiling, floating over a circular table where small fans provided it with a constant breeze. Adjacent to those fans were keyboards and monitors. Tilly felt like she was at the center of a star system.

“We destroyed seventeen out of the forty-four satellites we were aware of,” Zed declared, her voice flat, but proud.

Tilly felt relieved. “Well, assuming that no one is hurt from satellite debris and no communications satellites are damaged, that’s a pretty victimless crime. You didn’t hear this from me, but with the right lawyer, you guys might get off pretty easily. Vandalism is still vandalism.”

“Perhaps. But we also fired at the Georgia Dome. And Centennial Olympic Park. And Atlantic Station. And SunTrust Park. And Emory. And Municipal Market. And the streetcar. And about half of Buckhead.” Apollo paused. “And two random houses that Sol forced on me,” he added with a smug scowl.

“We?” Zed shrieked into Apollo’s face. “We agreed to destroy the satellites. We did the hard work of tracking down the satellite orbits. We programmed the digital lockpick. We all came here together to do the same thing. To honor Jerry. You…you have done something else. You have taken our futures from us.”

“At least you have a future,” Sol jeered.

“Cut the shit, Sol,” Kai squawked. “You know your parents have nothing on you. They’re just trying to shake you down because they think they can.”

“Her parents probably don’t even have a life,” Apollo chuckled.

“I don’t have a life,” Zed asserted, shoving Apollo into a wall. He looked away as she repeatedly jabbed her finger into his shoulder. “We could have gotten away with this, could have gone to school, could have done something, but now this moment will define us forever. Did you think to ask me about how I felt? Did you think about anyone but yourself? Did you think at all? You killed people!”

“Even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord’ll sort ’em,” Apollo rapped.

“Fuck you, Apollo. You don’t even believe in God,” Kai spewed.