“Pull up those news-vids I was watching earlier. I kick them off and pull the pins from my hair before tapping a touchscreen to activate the wallscreen in the main room. I got bored.” Bored, and tired of the weight of myriad eyes watching me, manifesting as an ache in my lower back. Loud music, too much lip gloss, and Reb Vester’s existence. “You’ve returned earlier than scheduled.” Sometimes I wish it weren’t the only voice greeting me now. “Welcome home, Liddi.” The disembodied voice breaks silence’s hold, the same voice that’s greeted me most of my life.

The house greets me with a few warm lights along the front path.Īs nice as it is to be away from the noise of the city, the two seconds of silence as I open the door press in on me, twist in my ears. A small river winds through fields and woods extending for several miles, with no sign of any neighbors. The lights and hustle of Pinnacle blur by until the city thins, then disappears as I enter the country-or the closest thing to “country” you can find on Sampati. Good thing, too, or I might not have noticed when one of the tiny airborne devices slips into the hovercar with me like an errant bumblebee. TO MY MOM FOR STARGAZING, AND MY DAD FOR MAKING ME LOOK UP MY OWN ANSWERSĪFTER SIXTEEN YEARS, you’d think I’d be used to the incessant buzz of vid-cams swarming to chronicle every breath I take. For information address Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. Published by Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group.

Spinning starlight by rc lewis