The Starriest Summer (The Cycle of the Six Moons, #1)

Chapter One: The Machine

Just as I reach for the front door, my brother screams. It's a drawn out, dramatic, "No!" Is he doing his Darth Vader impression again? At least he's not too late to save Padmé.

I hear several things clang and screech against the garage floor, and Aaron groans, "Idecia! Idecia!" I don't remember any Idecia from Star Wars or Star Trek...

He gasps when he storms through the kitchen door, and I scurry to the living room, tossing his keys on the couch before he can notice. I start back upstairs when he comes around the corner.

"Michelle?"

"Oh, hey!" I don't know what else to say. Did he hear me threaten to steal the car? At least he doesn't have his telescoping lightsaber to whack me with. He really needs a shower; his black hair is plastered to his face. In fact, it's been a while since I've even seen his forehead properly. He usually wears a red dealer's visor.

"Michelle!" he says again. He reaches toward me with both hands, like the Frankenstein monster. Uh-oh. Now he's definitely gone mad! I back up into the stair railing.

He leaps at me with a hug. The only time he hugs me is if I make him special spicy ramen with pickled radish, so what does he want this time?

"Yo," I say. "What's up?"

"I missed you!"

"It's not my problem you locked yourself in the garage."

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He pulls away so he can squash my cheeks and give me fish lips. I'm sure I look ridiculous, but he stares at me with the same look as when he hugs his Chewbacca toy. Then he releases my face and ruffles my hair. "How've you been?"

I flinch and narrow my eyes. He never asks me that. What did his experiment do to his brain this time?

I cross my arms and give him the most obvious answer. "Hungry. Take me grocery shopping."

"Yeah, of course!" He laughs nervously, and I tilt my head in confusion. "I'll get my keys!"

Alarm jolts through me. Before he realizes that his keys aren't where he left them, I say, "How about you go take a shower first? You're all sweaty and gross."

"A shower! A shower sounds amazing!" He leaps onto the stairs beside me and jumps up every other step. "I'll be just five minutes!"

"What happened to your visor?" I call after him as he bounds upstairs.

"Uh—I, uh—be right back!"

I let out a sigh of relief as he disappears into the upstairs hall. Wasting no time, I take his keys and wallet, then place them back on the table. That's when I notice that the door to the garage is ajar. Heat wafts into the air-conditioned kitchen, and I feel a sense of intrigue and danger, as if it's a mad scientist's lab with secrets of the universe.

I hear water running through the pipes into the upstairs bathroom; Aaron's in the middle of his shower, which gives me a few minutes to check out his top-secret, psycho science project. Cautiously looking over my shoulder, I reach for the door—avoiding the handle, which has bare wires taped to the other side—and I step into the blindingly bright garage.

When my eyes focus, I see light reflecting off three dusty old mirrors. All of the lamps from the house encircle a retro orange recliner, making it glow like something otherworldly. A grid sits on top of the garage door tracks, and attached to the grid are small appliances that create a halo over the recliner. Each appliance connects to another by their own cords and extensions; every few seconds, sparks shimmer across the grid.