Eighteen-year-old cadet Lara Lorensky has one goal: to win the Selection, the only way people on Earth can ascend to NovaTopia, a utopia-like space shuttle orbiting the planet. Unfortunately, her longtime rival, Morgan Sánchez, also has the same goa...
"Get lost, Sánchez." I shove them away with my shoulders and stomp over to the drinking station.
Chatters erupt in the room, and I can hear Sánchez laughing loudly with a few other classmates. I bet they're trash-talking me, but I don't care. I need to focus.
A cup of water pops up for me at the drinking station, and I gulp it all down within a few seconds.
After this enforced break, I'll practice as much as Rea allows me, and I will get that first place. It's not impossible; I've beaten Sánchez before, many years ago, and I just have to do it again. And if I want to win the Selection, I must do it again.
I drop the empty cup into a small hole that opened up in the drinking station. Another full cup appears. This time, I sip on the water slowly as my gaze turns to the window next to me.
At this level of the Tower, there's nothing but clouds when I look down. If I squint, I can probably see faded bits of Ground Earth.
But I am more interested in looking up.
Among the stars in the galaxy, there are six bright spots clustered together. They are the space stations orbiting the Earth. The dimmest, blinking one is the USA-Hernandez Shuttle, the first-ever space station built for residential purposes. Next to it, with the tiniest radius of light, is the New Research Shuttle, the newest space station built. Despite being the smallest, it shines like a diamond.
But the biggest and brightest of them all sits in the middle of the other five space stations.
NovaTopia.
I cannot help but smile at the sight of it. NovaTopia—a utopia in the sky, a technology haven, a dream of mine for as long as I can remember.
Every year, during the Selection, each of the shuttle chooses one cadet from the graduating cadet class to grant its shuttle residency to. Passing the first round of the Selection will promote a cadet to a soldier, the noble protectors of the Tower. The top performers will advance to the second round, where they will compete to be in the top six—and the chance to live in one of the six space stations. Of course, NovaTopia is the number one choice, so the grand prize of the Selection is to become a NovaTopian resident. It is not only the entrance ticket to a utopia of a space station, it also comes with a Gift—a special nanoid technology that grants special body enhancements.
This year, I am finally eighteen and graduating. And I am so ready to claim my rightful place in NovaTopia and get a cool Gift of my own.
But first, I have to beat Morgan Sánchez.
"Ten-minute break is over," Rea says. "You may return for another simulation if you wish."
I slam the empty cup down and jog back to the training cube. Of course, Sánchez is peeling away from their friend group and marching in the same direction.
"Aw, you're not joining us for foosball, Morgan?" one of their friends asks.
"Yeah, Morgan, come on!" another cadet complains. "Take a longer break for once!"
"I'll join y'all later!" Sánchez yells. As we both reach our training cubes, they turn to me and wink. "Ready to be second place again, Lorensky?"
I ignore them and put on my headset.
Sometimes, I wish Sánchez would take on their friends' offers and slack off more. But I know they want to ascend to NovaTopia just as much as I do. I see the amount of work they've put in, and that's why I know I can't ever rest.
Because Morgan Sánchez never rests either.
As the cube activates, the world around me vanishes. A different world appears—a dilapidated building in the rain. Immediately, I spot a target attempting to hide behind the wall.
I lift the gun and shoot.
***
My feet sting as I trudge my way back to my living unit.
Today has been dog crap. The training cube had to be ultra-realistic for some reason, so the simulation drenched me in rain. I got most of my clothes dry during the ten-minute break, but my damp socks gave me blisters over the day. And to top it off, I am still in second place by the end of the day.
Why can't I ever beat Sánchez?
Their stupid smirk reappears in my mind, and I spend the next few seconds imagining myself punching the crap out of them.
"Warning: violation detected," alerts Rea.
Violation? I was just thinking of beating up Sánchez in my head. Surely that's not a violation, nor is it something that Rea can detect.
I groan when I realize what Rea was referring to.
Ryan.
He is slumped against the door to my unit, his short curly hair messier than ever. As I walk towards him, Rea's warnings increase.
I do not need the warnings to know that Ryan has been doused in alcohol and drugs. The smell is strong enough.
Scrunching my nose, I give him a small kick in the arm. No reaction. Yep, this thirty-or-so-year-old man—who is supposed to be my older brother and legal guardian—is fully passed out outside my unit.
Today is dog crap and cat vomit.
Despite the incessant alerts in my ears, I wrap my arms under Ryan and lift him from the ground. His general uniform is battered and damp—gross—and the stench makes me want to puke. I am drained after a full day of training, so dragging him into my living unit is more difficult than usual. He's lucky I'm here before an inspector bot finds him and writes him up.
I can't believe this man. He is a general now, but he was a cadet like me. He has been through this process before, so he should know how important it is for me to maintain a clean record right now. And yet, here he is, full of violations, outside my living unit, and reeking.
The door closes behind me as I throw Ryan against the wall. My living unit is already cramped enough without him taking up precious space, with just enough room for a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen all within a single unit. I have to step over him to get to the kitchen.
Just as my pre-packaged meal finished microwaving, Rea alerts me once more.
"Warning."
"I know, I know, Ryan is full of violations—"
"Unit inspection. An inspector bot is outside your unit."
My heart drops. "What? Right now?"
Ryan, who was propped up against the wall, slides sideways and hit the ground with a thud.
I am unable to beat Morgan Sánchez, and now, I am going to lose my clean record too, aren't I?
Today is dog crap, cat vomit, and a load of horse diarrhea.
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