says nothing more as we ride to the top floor. To my left, colourful adverts flow down one glass wall, mostly advertising energy drinks and protein bars. A bell chimes, and a holo-display springs to life on one wall, showing images of sleek fitness equipment, and the teenagers exit, sniggering among themselves.
Watching them go, I try to push down an anger that stirs inside of me. Who knew what kind of life I could have had if Bobby had been able to afford to send me to a place like this to be educated? I realise Blakeâs accusation of being irresponsible about not training my talents has hit a nerve.
âSorry for the ride, I wanted to check where they got out,â Cora mumbles as she hits a lower button. âIâm pretty sure that pass wasnât legit. Lucky for them Iâm in a forgiving mood.â
Exiting on the third floor, I follow Cora to a large dormitory room, set out with ten bunk beds. I spy eight women my own age, sprawled about on the lounges and beanbags scattered in between the beds. Some heads are bent over slates, and others wear net-glasses, eyes elevated to stare at the digital readouts. Iâve seen these glasses advertised everywhere, but even the knock-offs are crazy expensive.
I follow Cora over to a wall of lockers and watch as she taps on a holographic keypad. One of the doors near me swings open.
âGetting your own room at this stage of the year will take a little time,â she tells me. âUntil thatâs organised, youâll stay here. Some of these girls are late starters, like you, while others just kind of lucked out on the single room score. Bunking with a handful of strangers is no fun, so hopefully youâll get one soon. You can leave your stuff in this locker. Iâve set the programming and now you just need to enter your print.â
I press my thumb against a small pad on the door and a red light scans it before beeping green. Cora takes out a small functional looking slate from my rookie pack and passes it to me before stuffing the bag into the locker and swinging the door shut. Thereâs a click and the keypad flashes red once. The slate in my hand is tiny, with a small academy logo at the bottom of the handle. When I pull the screen out, itâs crystal clear.
âIs this mine?â I ask.
âWhile youâre at Helios, you betcha itâs yours. All your schedules should be loaded on it by now.â
Cora checks her slate, then walks over to an empty bunk bed, indicating the bottom cot. âThis is where youâll sleep for now. You donât have a bunk buddy yet, but that could change. Iâm sure everyone here will make you feel welcome.â
A girl in a nearby beanbag lowers her net-glasses, gives me the once over and then snorts, as if the sight of me is pretty darn funny. Thumbing the glasses back up, she leans back without a word. Cora gives me an apologetic look.
âWell, Iâm sure youâll be fine anyway.â
I slide the slate into a back pocket and try not to feel nervous at the idea of bunking with total strangers. âWhere do you sleep?â
âOne of the private rooms, a level up,â Cora says. âRoom 3F. You ever need anything, feel free to knock on my door. Now, letâs get you a late breakfast. Most important meal of the day, you know.â
Exiting the dorm, we head towards another level populated with small break-out and quiet rooms. We stop in a large area lined with windows that overlook a sprawling green landscape, dotted with trees. A shiny metallic kitchen sits to the left and a long table sits on the right. A screen takes up one wall, playing adverts for vitamin sodas, and a couple of news-tablets, headlines scrolling across their screens, sit on a coffee table between two couches.
Two girls and a big guy with a buzz cut loiter in the kitchen, preparing food. The girls are dressed in white tracksuits with the Helios logo and I see theyâre twins, with
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