The steep climb up the incline was almost too much. Twice, Gemma’s injured leg gave out, and one of those times, she tried to stop her fall with the wrong arm, sending a wave of nauseating agony down that entire side of her body.
But both times, she got back up and kept going. She would not give up.
She reached the top of the incline and nearly cried in relief.I can see the end.
Using every last ounce of energy, she ran as hard as she could until she crossed over the finish line of red ultralight. A moment later, she was sprawled on the ground, breathing so hard and fast that she thought her ribs were going to break.
She glanced at the timepiece:19:43.
Her head fell back against the cold metal ground, tears burning her eyes. She’d passed with seventeen seconds to spare.
A giddy laugh tickled inside her chest, and she pressed her lips together to keep from cackling.
Gemma was helped onto a stiff stretcher by two round, polished, white medical robots, who immediately began their assessment of her injuries. Every poke and prod of their thick, metal fingers made Gemma want to rip out their innards.
Not that she could. There wasn’t a single groove or screw hole on the robots’ entire frames.
Gemma didn’t know much about mechanics, but the craftsmanship of the AI technology in Zion was incredible. The robotic guards that roamed Perileos were large and bulky; these were slim and sleek with circles of blue ultralights for eyes. They also spoke directly through Gemma’s biochip, unlike the robots in Perileos that yelled from speakers in their horrendous faces.
“You appear to have broken your right ulna,” one of the Zion-bots said. “And your fifth vertebrochondral rib on your right has been fractured.”
“You also have sprained your left knee and torn through the dermis on your forehead,” the other said.
The first robot handed Gemma a plastic cup full of yellow liquid that resembled urine way too closely. “Please drink this.”
Gemma balked. “What is it?”
“Nanobots that have been designed to stimulate the immune response and bone and cellular growth.”
Her nose scrunched.Of course they are.
The thought of little nanobots running through her body was skeevy, but she was in a terrible amount of pain and needed to be able to continue through her Trials.
She grabbed the plastic cup, tipped her head back, and chugged the foul liquid as fast as she could. The nanobots tickled her throat like living bubbles. She pushed the back of her hand against her mouth when she’d finished, stifling a gag.
“Please lift your broken arm,” the robot said.
Gemma grimaced as she obeyed but shouted when the Zion bot began to wrap her arm in strips of fabric.
“Spidersilk,” it explained. “It will serve as a cast until your arm has been repaired. You may remove it in twelve hours.”
“This is for your pain.” The other robot stabbed Gemma in her thigh with a syringe without warning.
Gemma yelped. “Hey!”
“Thank you for your time. Goodbye.” The two robots rolled away silently.
She raised an eyebrow.Okay, then.
Gemma climbed off the stretcher and winced when her feet touched the floor. Every part of her body ached like she’d been hit by a tram. There was no way she’d be feeling better in twelve hours.
Slowly, she worked her way back to the dormitory, praising Zion’s medical robots for the pain relief when it started to kick in.
When Gemma made it back to the dormitory, most of her fellow contestants looked as bad as she did. Many wore spidersilk casts, and some were in actual wheeled chairs. A few had bandages around their heads and lay on bottom bunks with braces up their backs. Supper had even been served via metal tins right in the center of the room, given that so many were literally unable to get to the dining hall.
Gemma scowled. What an atrocious test to put contestants through. She wouldn’t be surprised if a dangerous obstacle course was just another way to lower the population on Reva.
She scanned the room for Imara. Gemma had only partnered with her for a day, but she was the only friend Gemma had in this place—well,allyat least. Gemma wouldn’t go as far as to call her a friend.
