Page 32 of The Dazzling Heights
“I know you’re going to miss him, but trust me when I say that this is the best thing for the family.” Pierson was speaking very slowly and deliberately. Avery wondered if he was drunk, or upset, or both.
The best thing for the family. There was something ominous about that phrasing. “And for Atlas, too,” Avery pressed, suddenly determined to argue his case. “It’ll be great for his career, right? To run that big a project at such a young age?” She was watching her dad carefully, and even in the shadows she could see the way he flinched a little at her brother’s name.
“Yes. For Atlas too,” Pierson repeated, and from the tone of his voice Avery knew he hadn’t been thinking about Atlas at all.
“It’s amazing of you to give him that opportunity. I’m glad.” Avery suddenly felt anxious to leave. The longer she stayed here, talking to her dad, the greater the chance she might give something away.
“Anyway, I’m exhausted.” She reached for the water and stood up, smoothing the front of her dress with a slightly nervous gesture. “Good night, Dad. I love you,” she added, and as she said the phrase—words she’d spoken so many times before—she saw something in her father harden, as if the reminder made him even more furiously protective of her. Her heart sank at the thought.
It took all of Avery’s considerable self-possession not to hurry; to walk down the hall to her room with slow, shuffling footsteps, as if she really were tired and couldn’t wait to collapse into bed.
“Atlas,” she hissed when she’d finally shut the door behind her, saying the words aloud to send them as a flicker.“I really think Dad knows. What are we going to do?”
There was silence for a while, but this time the silence didn’t bother Avery, because she knew Atlas was composing his response carefully. He wasn’t the type to give an answer that wasn’t thoughtful or measured.
We’ll figure it out,he said at last. Don’t worry.I love you.
Even though she couldn’t see his face, she could feel his smile, as if the warmth of it reached across their vast apartment, through all the various doors and walls separating them.
Avery fell back on the bed and let out a helpless sigh. “I love you too,” she whispered in response.
She just hoped their love was enough to keep them safe.
RYLIN
IT WAS LATEFriday night, and Rylin couldn’t fall asleep. She kept flipping restlessly back and forth, trying not to wake Chrissa, who was barely a meter away in the other twin bed. But Chrissa had always been able to sleep through anything.
Rylin’s friends were all out at some big party tonight; Lux had pinged her about it earlier, but Rylin hadn’t paid attention to the details. “I’m too exhausted,” she’d said truthfully. After an interminable week at school—seeing Cord in the hallways and, worse, right there in front of her in holography class; not to mention dealing with the aftermath of her ill-planned impulse to partner with Leda on the project—Rylin hadn’t felt up for a party. She knew it would be too loud and too bright, and she wouldn’t even be able to hear her own thoughts over the clamor of the music. She’d stayed home instead with Chrissa, and the two of them had eaten frozen lasagna and watched a few episodes of some old holo about a girl in love with a boy, except that their families were enemies. Chrissa had sighed over their relationship, but something about it—maybe the forbidden, impossible love thing—had irritated Rylin.
She grabbed her tablet from where it lay on the floor and idly checked her messages. There were a few new ones to her school account: an announcement about tryouts for the school play, and a reminder that homeroom started at eight a.m. sharp. Her eyes caught on a message from Professor Radimajdi. Rylin opened it, curious, only to flush with anger when she saw the contents.
She’d gotten a C– on her first holography homework, a sunset vid that she’d taken from a lower-floor observation deck last week.
What the hell, she thought in outrage, tapping angrily down to read the director’s comments. Hadn’t he said that helikedsunset vids, that his own Oscar-winning film had featured one?
Rylin, this video is very soft and pretty—as well as trite, boring, and uninspired. I have to say, I’m disappointed. Next time, show me how you see the world, not what you think I want to see.
Rylin leaned back, incensed and more than a little confused. What right did he have to feel disappointment in her, anyway?
She wasn’t sure why she was so angry, except that this was her first grade from Berkeley and it sucked. But what had she really expected? She was a seventeen-year-old high school dropout who, through some miracle of fate, had ended up at the most expensive, most academically challenging school in the country. Of course she wouldn’t succeed there. She’d been stupid to think otherwise.
Rylin pushed back the covers. She felt shivery and anxious, and suddenly stuffy with cabin fever. What the hell was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be home alone, looking at grades on a Friday night. The old Rylin would have been out right now. Well, it wasn’t too late to salvage the evening.
Are you out?she sent to Lux, who replied instantly.
Yes!! We’re at the public pool on 80. Come!
That sounded strange to Rylin, but she didn’t even question it, just peeled off her T-shirt and pajama pants to change into a bikini. She dropped a shoe and paused, hoping she hadn’t woken Chrissa; but she heard nothing except the steady rise and fall of her sister’s breath, the quiet rustling of her blankets as she shifted to one side. Rylin stood a moment just watching her sleep. A fierce wave of protectiveness rose up in her. Then she pulled a dress on over her swimsuit and slipped into sandals.
On her way out the door, her gaze caught on the gleaming silver vid-cam, sitting on her desk like some kind of ominous, watchful eye. Without another thought, she tossed the camera into her bag and headed out the front door.
Rylin had been to the public pool before. She used to come with Chrissa and her mom many years ago, when she and her sister wore matching swimsuits, and competed to hold their breath underwater the longest; and she’d come dozens of times with Lux, on summer afternoons, to fight for a spot on the deck and catch the slanting afternoon rays of the sun. But she hadn’t seen anything like the pool now, at midnight, taken over by an illegal rave.
Teenagers were pressed close together inside, all wearing various combinations of swimsuits and denim. It smelled of chlorine and sweat and potshots. Someone had turned off the pool lights to keep them from getting caught; but moonlight streamed in from the windows, dancing across the shadowed forms that splashed through the water like sleek dark seals. An electric beat pulsed through the space. Rylin could make out the silhouettes of a few couples on the outdoor patio.
She peeled off her maxi dress and tossed it in a corner; but as she set down her bag, the vid-cam clunked against the ground. Rylin found herself reaching for it. It felt warm in her palm. She lifted it up and it floated lazily overhead, following as if pulled by an invisible tether.
Tying her hair up in a loose ponytail, Rylin climbed the ladder that led to the suspended diving board. She’d heard there was a fancy half-grav one at the Berkeley indoor pool, so that the diving team could better practice their triple flips, but this had always been just fine for her. She raised her arms overhead and dove in headfirst, her thin body slicing through the water like a knife.
