Free Nova Project #1 by Emma Trevayne Page A

only slightly more difficult. There isn’t much Blake can’t do when he wants to.
    And he’s glad he wanted to. Well, well. This is much more interesting. He watches the boy from another rooftop, augmented eyes seeing clearly across the distance. It’s evident what the boy intends to do, and it’s clear why. His medical exam gave Blake a lot to think about.
    Desperation can be a beautiful thing.
    True to his word, rare in itself, he is back at headquarters with time to spare, though not much of it. Lucius meets him in the lobby, in front of a wide expanse of touch panels. Together, as the clock ticks midnight, they begin to type. Blake hopes the boy pauses just long enough. He needs only a few seconds.
    â€œCongratulations, Miguel Anderson,” he whispers as his fingers move. “Let’s see how far you’ll go.”

LEVEL FIVE
    M iguel’s foot slips as his name flashes across his lenses. His stomach turns over. Scrambling for balance, he falls back, hitting the roof with a painful crash. Pain is good, pain is life. It spreads around his limbs, background noise as he watches the feed, waiting for the punch line. He’d only kept them on for the time.
    What if he hadn’t kept them on at all? Cold sweat beads on his skin. What had he been about to do?
    His name is still there. He’s in. Oh . . . my . . . god. But Dr. Spencer had told him he wouldn’t be; he doesn’t understand.
    The answers aren’t going to come on this roof. Shakily he stands, distrusting the legs that nearly slipped out from under him on the ledge. This view of the city was nearly the last thing he ever saw. Across it, closer and yet in the unreachable middle distance, his feed fills, messages from Nick, Anna, his parents scattered among names he doesn’t recognize. His parents.Shit. He cancels the scheduled message to them.
    Names are still being announced, two hundred of them. All the team leaders. He doesn’t pay any attention, there’ll be time for that later. Time. He still has some. For now he needs to get off this roof, and the hoverboard has long since gone back to the station it came from. Sometimes he imagines the voice of the Storyteller narrating his actual life.
    You are on a roof. There is a door leading to a stairwell.
    Thankfully it’s unlocked. Jumping had been a good way out, but it wouldn’t be a good way down. His lockpicking skills aren’t bad, but his tools for it are inside his Chimera cache and can’t be summoned into the real world. His mind races in time with his feet, boots ringing on the steps. Dizzy from all the turns, he arrives in an atrium, running, running both toward the unknown and away from it. Toward the adventure of Chimera, away from the horror of what he’d nearly done.
    The light turns red. A siren wails, tripped by motion sensors that expected intruders to come in the front door, which is only polite. He swears under his breath, eyes casting around for an exit. He has to get out of here, find out what’s going on, get as far as he can from the roof. The sealed doors are glass. His boots, earned in the game but now almost permanently fused to his feet, are capped with steel.
    Well, he’s sorry.
    Glass rains like snowflakes. The alarm cries louder for a few seconds, then stops so abruptly it takes him a second to realize a man is standing at the keypad on the outside, another waiting by a small electric car on the curb.
    â€œMiguel Anderson?”
    â€œYes?” He’s about to be arrested, surely.
    But that’s not a police car. A stylized C adorns the driver’s door. And both of their uniforms.
    â€œPlease come with us.”
    â€œBut—” He turns back, the glass crunching under him.
    â€œWe’ll take care of it.” The man by the car smiles. “Seriously, don’t worry. Congratulations, you’re one of the leaders.”
    Yeah, but he doesn’t know why.
    â€œWe’re