She scrunches up her nose. “Someone who wasn’t raised as part of Maker society. Like something growing where it doesn’t belong.” She begins to stroke a fluffy blue pillow that does not at all match the rest of the decor. “There are some people who think that when the Makers left the provincial world behind, everyone in it ceased to matter. And there’s a lot of animosity and fear surrounding provincial people.”

“But everyone else I’ve met so far has been really nice,” I say.

“Yeah, the majority of the folks here are pretty great.” She nods toward the door. “But most don’t understand the provincial world the way he does.”

“You mean Michael?” I ask.

She eyes me skeptically. “Master Loew,” she clarifies.

Right, he’s a teacher. That’s gonna take some getting used to. But maybe now I have a new friend to help me navigate this world so I won’t have to attach myself to Michael like a barnacle.

Georgie’s fluffy blue pillow lifts its head, opens its tiny mouth, and yawns. Then, two emerald-green eyes blink open, and the not-a-pillow stares at me suspiciously.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Georgie proceeds to scratch it behind the ears. It closes its eyes and emits a buzzing sound, not unlike a chain saw.

“What is that?” I ask. I mean, it’s clearly a cat. But… blue.

“This is Bastet,” Georgie says, kissing the cat’s nose. “I found her scrounging for food in the compost garden. She must be a Bio experiment, but it’s not legal to experiment on living beings. It was probably one of the Avant transfers—like Rafe. They still do cruel Blood Science stuff in Avant. Everything has been so much worse since they came here.”

I’m still fixated on the peculiar feline. “How can they turn a cat blue?”

Georgie looks at me, brows arched. “They didn’t turn her blue. They probably bred her this way with Sire-based genetic alteration. But a blue cat is the least of what they can do here. If this surprises you… sheesh. Just wait until you meet the Valkyries. You’re going to freak out.” Georgie reaches into her pocket and pulls out a multi-tool just like Michael’s, except it’s pink and bejeweled. She flicks open a tool and aims a little pink laser dot at the wall. Bastet leaps off the couch trying to catch the light as Georgie keeps the laser bouncing around the room.

I consider asking her if unicorns are real but then chicken out because it feels too ridiculous to say out loud.

“I was given a lot more information than you before I came here,” Georgie says. “But don’t worry. I’ll help you out.”

I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate. And being around someone from home allows me to breathe in a way that I haven’t felt comfortable doing all day.