Page 48

To Felix’s left sat a woman in a red dress that looked like liquid mercury. She was older, her skin pulled tight by cosmetic enhancements, her eyes hungry, and her fingers were stacked with rings, heavy old gold, a decade of Sector 9 wages riding on every knuckle.

“General Vokar,” Felix said, inclining his head. “It is an honor.”

“The honor is mine, son,” Vokar boomed. His voice carried the weight of authority. “I’ve been watching the feeds. That bicycle kick against the Sector 4 simulation? Textbook. Absolutely textbook.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And this must be the wild card,” Vokar said, turning his heavy gaze on me. “The transfer from the slums.”

“Sector 9,” I corrected him, keeping my voice flat.

“Same difference,” Vokar laughed, cuffing my shoulder. “Hard places breed hard men. We need that on the field.”

I let it go. I had been letting things go since the red carpet, and somewhere under the silk the pressure was building.

The first course arrived. Server droids glided silently between the chairs, placing plates of intricate appetizers in front of us, something raw, garnished with gold leaf. It looked expensive and completely inedible. Where I grew up, gold was what you traded for food. Here it was the food.

I frowned at the three different forks beside my plate, unsure which one to use.

Felix kicked me under the table.

He picked up the smallest fork on the outside, his movements showing me what to do without breaking his conversation with the woman in red.

“You must be Madame Koresh,” Felix said, turning his charm on her like a spotlight. “The Head of the Genetic Board. Your paper on metabolic efficiency in high-altitude environments was fascinating.”

He had to be lying. There was no way Felix read genetic papers for fun.

The woman preened, touching the pearls at her throat.

“You’ve read it?” she asked, delighted.

“I make it a point to understand the science behind my own performance,” Felix said. He smiled, the same smile he gave the cameras, dazzling and completely hollow. “I am only as good as my biology, after all.”

“You are too modest,” Madame Koresh purred. She reached out, her hand landing on Felix’s forearm. “Your biology is exceptional, Asset Cento. We have been tracking your development. You are the gold standard.”

She squeezed his arm, her thumb rubbing slow circles against the sleeve of his tuxedo.

Felix went still, like a deer hearing a twig snap.

“We are very excited about your contribution to the archives,” she continued, her fingers trailing down to his wrist, tracing the veins. “Top-tier genetics like yours... it is a shame to waste them on just one lifespan. We have identified several matches in the registry that would produce formidable offspring.”

She looked at him as a prize stallion to be milked for the good of the State, reducing his entire existence to the biological material he could provide.

Beside her, Felix’s smile hadn’t faltered, but his eyes turned to glass. He was dissociating right in front of me, checking out of the conversation and leaving his body behind so he didn’t have to feel the invasive weight of her hand on his skin.

“The season is my priority,” Felix said. “I try not to think about the... administrative duties.”

“Oh, but you must,” she insisted. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “We have a quota, Felix. And with the new protocols, we might accelerate the extraction schedule before the finals.”

Her hand slid up his arm, encroaching on his bicep, her nails digging in slightly.

“I prefer to oversee the extraction procedures personally,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to his lap. “Sometimes the clinical approach is too... cold. Don’t you agree?”

Rage flared in my gut. I hated that he sold me out and he pranced around like a fucking king. But he was my rival. He belonged on the soccer field, not in a lab, and I would be damned if I watched this plastic vulture pick him apart while he sat there and took it.

I dropped my heavy fork, and it hit the china plate with a loud clang that silenced the table.

Madame Koresh jumped, her hand flying off Felix’s arm as if she’d been burned.