Page 25 of How to Steal a Galaxy

“But if you fail—god, why does whole thing have to hinge onyou?”She waves her hand at me as if I am the most inept person to ever breathe in her presence. Which is supremely fucking unfair, because just ten minutes ago, she saw Strom Fetor, who’swayworse than me. I hope he falls off his hover stage during his big announcement.

“If you fail,” Phoebe continues, utterly ignoring me as her eyes trace up to the part of the ceiling where the portal ring should continue but instead cuts off abruptly, “If you fail...”

“If I fail,” I snark back, somewhat impatiently.

“Then the nanobots get released into Earth’s climate, a Pandora’s box that can never be closed. And when that happens, it will turn my world,ourworld into nothing more than a shell. He’ll own us. All of us.” She shakes her head.

This is exactly the kind of pressure I purposefully did not want to contemplate earlier. Yes, there’s a hell of a lot riding on tonight.

The nanobots that were in theRoundaboutwere infected with code that will spread like a virus. Nanobots are designed to work that way, to replicate on their own, to infect everything. These nanobots are going into the water cycle, and every scientist in every world will confirm that the one essential thing to human life on a planet is a working water cycle.

Once released, the nanobots will be impossible to recapture.

The virus will spread.

And Earth will pay the price.

Quite literally. The nanobots are designed to cease working, an encrypted code that Fetor purposefully designed to ensure he has to be rehired again and again. Rather than saving Earth, he’s making every citizen sign up for a subscription plan that will bankrupt them, just for the privilege of staying alive.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Phoebe says.

You really, really don’t, I think. But all I do is smile.

“You’re thinking, well, Earth is dying. If this doesn’t work, there’s plenty of room on the other worlds. And it’s true. People can immigrate. I’m sure that’s what Fetor thinks. It’s probably how he sleeps at night, telling himself that if people cannot afford to pay him to live, they can just move elsewhere.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t tell himself a damn thing at night, because if he does happen to have an ounce of empathy lingering like a stain on his conscious, he can just pay someone to have it removed.”

Phoebe gives me a brief snort of appreciation at that, but then her face tilts, her mouth tightening, as if she’s swallowing down acid. “It’s just...not everyone can leave. He’s going to own Earth, and he’s going to own the people who can’t afford to leave.”

“I know,” I say. Clear. Loud. Somewhat impatient.

But she’s already drowning in her hope and her desperation. She can’t hear anything I’m saying, not really.

I know what she’s going through right now. This is the first time the universe peeled away its veneer and showed her how cruel it can be, not out of any type of maliciousness but out of pure apathy. She’s from Indiana, for fuck’s sake; she’s been a witness to horror, sure, but it’s never before been hers to own.

And she doesn’t know what to do with it all, except to keep trying to scramble over the waves, even if they slip through her fingers, even if she’s using all her energy just to keep from going under.

She still thinks good can win. And she’s not taken any of the stones out of her pockets yet.

But that crack in her voice, that thrum of anxiety wrapping around her neck, that tightening in her shoulders . . .

I swing my legs over the side of the portal, standing up close to her. I look her right in the eyes. I say: “I won’t fail.”

I see the moment when she chooses to believe inme.

And if there weren’t so much profit on the line, I would pity her for that.

10

Ihead downstairs after that. Phoebe makes sure of it. Technically, guests are allowed to go wherever they want in the museum, but no one cares about the exhibits on regular display other than me. And Strom Fetor, I guess.

Phoebe leaves me when we’re at the ground floor, but that doesn’t mean I’m alone.

Most of the gala is in the auction rooms, but I no longer have a desire to see people bidding on scraps of Earth. This area here, in the back, is more interesting, especially now that I know the grand finale is going to be so elaborate. So ripe for failure.

I lean against the stone wall by the stairs, just watching.

Waiting.

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