Page 34 of The Towering Sky
“Forgetting something?” Cord asked behind her, amused.
Rylin quickly shuffled to face the back, resisting the urge to turn back and look at the view. “You know,” she said, “when Lux and I were little, we used to ride this up and down for hours.”
It had been like a free carnival ride, the novelty of which never wore off. Rylin used to secretly imagine that she was the president, riding in her private hovercraft up to the White House—until she learned that the White House wasn’t even a tower, but a flat, squat building. It still didn’t make sense to her. What good was it to be the leader of America if you didn’t have a decent view?
“That’s funny,” Cord said, though Rylin heard the note of disbelief in his voice. Of course he hadn’t spent his childhood riding elevator pods; he’d probably been playing a full suite of holo-games on his expensive immersion console. “Who’s Lux?” he added.
Rylin blinked. “My best friend.” It was easy to forget how little Cord really knew her. But then, he only ever saw her at school or on other upper floors.
Before Cord could respond, their pod lurched sideways to pick up someone else. Rylin and Cord stayed where they were, facing the featureless back wall, as a pair of older women stepped inside.
There was a palpable moment of silence. The women had turned to face the curved flexiglass doors at the front, but Rylin felt their necks twisting, their gazes boring into her. The pod resumed its motion.
“Tanya, I’ve been meaning to show you this,” one of the women said to the other, pulling out her tablet. She held it in such a way that it was angled toward the back wall, forcing herself and her friend to look in that direction. Rylin saw their feet edge slightly backward. She felt strangely triumphant.
Slowly, by degrees, the women turned to face the same way as the two teenagers. It happened in minuscule increments, the curve in their spines so subtle that it would have been undetectable to someone who wasn’t looking. But by the time the elevator pod pulled to another stop, near the top of the mall, the women were also facing backward.
The doors opened again and a boy, around twelve or so, stepped on board alone. He didn’t even hesitate, just kept on facing the back as if that was what he did every time.
Rylin lifted her eyes to meet Cord’s. He gave an exaggerated wink, forcing her to stifle a giggle.
Finally they reached the top floor, where a colonnaded walkway circled the center of the mall. Rylin hurried toward a display of activewear bracelets. She was laughing now, a full-bodied laugh that began deep in her belly, revealing the twin dimples on her flushed cheeks.
“Did youseethat? Those women totally caved to our social pressure!”
“And the effect clearly magnifies with more people. That boy didn’t hesitate at all,” Cord agreed. The fluorescent lighting caught the warmth in his light blue eyes.
“Just think of how much faster they would’ve turned if you weren’t dressed so ridiculously,” Rylin couldn’t resist adding.
“Absolutely,” Cord agreed, with mock solemnity. “We both know that you were the success factor in this experiment.”
“Does that make you the complicating factor?”
“More like the comic relief.”
They stepped back into the elevator pod, once again facing the back. Rylin held her breath as they pulled to a stop about halfway down. She and Cord exchanged a complicit glance, both of them still smiling.
“Rylin?”
She turned around to see Hiral standing there, holding a bright-red shopping bag. His eyes darted from her to Cord and back again.
Rylin realized with a start how it must look to him, that she was out with Cord, in secret. She felt a twisting pain in her chest. “Hiral! We, um, we’re running an experiment for psych class,” she stammered. “We’re violating social norms and then recording people’s reactions. We stand backward on the elevator pod! It’s absurd, really, what people do—”
“I don’t know if we’ve met before,” Cord interrupted, holding out his hand. “I’m Cord Anderton.”
“Nice to meet you, Cord. I’m Rylin’s boyfriend, Hiral,” Hiral countered. Rylin noticed with dismay that he wasn’t looking in her direction. “That’s really interesting, what you’re doing for school.”
The air seemed to condense around them, filled with palpitations of awkwardness. Shit. The only two boys she’d ever been with—the only ones she’d ever really cared about—and here they both were, standing together in a tiny pod suspended in midair. Rylin was hyperaware of every gesture, even of the sound of her own breathing, which seemed loud and rattling in the bubble of space.
“Why don’t you join us, Hiral?” Rylin heard Cord offer. She glanced over at him in alarm, wishing he hadn’t said that, but apparently he wanted to watch the world crash and burn.
Hiral didn’t answer at first. He didn’t need to. Rylin could read the emotions darting over his face: his confusion andwounded pride, but also his reluctant desire to understand what the hell was going on.
She realized that Cord had the right idea. If Hiral stayed, he would see that Rylin hadn’t been doing anything wrong—that this was just for class, and didn’t mean anything.
“That would be fantastic! Social pressure becomes increasingly effective the more people you have,” Rylin said, babbling. “We could use the help, if you’re not busy.”
“I don’t mind helping,” Hiral ventured warily. “What do we do?”
