I look up to see Haider studying me curiously.
“His cat,” I say.
Nazeera fights back a smile. “Castle received an urgent message from his cat?”
“I didn’t know he had a cat,” Haider says, his brows furrowing. He has a slight accent, unlike Nazeera, but his English is flawless. “I haven’t seen any animals on base. Are you allowed to keep animals as pets in Sector 45?”
“Nah. But don’t worry, it’s an invisible cat.”
Nazeera tries and fails to force back a laugh. She coughs, hard. Haider looks at her, confused, and I watch for the moment he realizes I’ve been screwing with him. And then—
He glares at me. “Hemar.”
“Say what?”
“He just called you an ass,” Nazeera explains.
“Wow. Nice.”
“Hatha shlon damaghsiz,” Haider says to his sister. “Let’s go.”
“Okay—wait—thatsounded like it might be a compliment.”
“Nope.” Nazeera smiles wider. “He just said you’re anidiot.”
“Cool. Well, I’m glad to be learning all these important words in Arabic.”
Haider shakes his head, outraged. “This was not meant to be a lesson.”
I stare at him for a moment, genuinely baffled. “Your brother has no sense of humor, huh?” I say to Nazeera.
“He’s not good with subtlety,” she says, still smiling at me. “You have to knock him over the head with a joke or he doesn’t get it.”
I place a hand over my heart. “Wow, I’m so sorry. That must be so difficult for you.”
She laughs but quickly bites her lip to kill the sound. And she sounds serious when she says, “You have no idea.”
Haider frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“You see what I mean?” she says.
I laugh, staring into her eyes for just a second too long. Haider shoots me a murderous look.
I take that as my cue to leave.
“All right, yeah,” I say, and take a quick breath. “I better get going. Symposium starts in”—I glance at my watch; my eyes widen—“thirty minutes. Shit.” I look up. “Bye.”
This thing is ascene.
There are around six hundred commanders and regents—officers at the same level as Warner—in the audience, and the place is buzzing. People are still settling in, taking their seats, and Juliette is up at the podium. The group of us arestanding behind her, onstage with her, and I’m not going to lie—it feels a little risky. We’re perfect targets for any psycho who might show up with a gun. We’ve taken precautions of course—no one is supposed to be allowed in here with any kind of weapon—but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. But we all agreed that standing united like this would send the strongest message. The girls remained back on base—we decided it would be best for them to stay safe long enough to save us if we get injured—and James and Adam are MIA. Castle said that Adam doesn’t want to participate in anything even remotely hostile anymore. Not unless he has to.
I get it.
In my less charitable moments I might call him a coward, but I get it. I’d opt out, too, if I could. I just don’t feel like I can.
There’s still too much I’m willing to die for.
Anyway. Juliette is pretty much invincible, so as long as she keeps her Energy on, she should be fine. The rest of us are vulnerable—but at the first sign of danger we’re supposed to scatter. We’re too outnumbered to fight; our best chance of survival is to spread out, spread far.
