Eight days before the Selection

Rea is right; the inspector bot is here. Its robotic voice announces its presence using the speakers in my ceiling.

"Dear Cadet Lorensky, I will be entering to perform a routine unit inspection. As per the privacy law stated in Code 109-B, you will have one minute to prepare for my entry. Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight..."

The countdown booms above me as if preparing for a rocket launch.

Groaning, I scurry over to Ryan and grab him by his collar. Why did I even let him in?

"Hey, Ryan! Wake up!" I snap, shaking him vigorously.

He scrunches his nose and makes a gagging sound. I stop moving him. He is already stinking up the entire room with his alcohol stench. I do not want him to throw up too.

"Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight..." the inspector bot continues, oblivious to my ordeal.

"Ryan, come on!" I whisper-shout. "You need to get out of here! I can't be caught with you and- and whatever you were doing."

Ryan responds by rolling his head against the wall. I cannot believe I'm related to this idiot. Frustrated, I slap his pale face a few times. He grunts, and his brows twitch, but he remains unconscious. I hit him more; he merely grunts more. Time to take things up a notch.

I dash back to the kitchen to grab a cup of cold water. Splashing it over his face finally jolts him awake.

"What the fuck?" Ryan mumbles, sitting up and looking around. Half of his hair is wet and flat, while the other half remains as tousled as ever. "Where am I?"

"Teleport back to your unit!" I demand.

He frowns. "Huh? Oh, hey, Lara. What are you doing here?"

"Thirty-one, thirty, twenty-nine..." The thundering voice from the speaker continues to echo around me. I don't have much time left.

"Listen, Ryan, you need to leave right now. Use your Gift and teleport out of here before the inspector bot comes in!"

"Slow down, Lara, slow down..." Ryan massages his temples. "I have no idea what you're talking about. What's happening? Why is someone counting down like it's New Year's Eve?"

I want to yank my hair out of my head. I do not have time to wait for this slow drunkard to figure things out. The inspector bot is right outside the door, and I barely have fifteen seconds left.

Once again, I run into the kitchen. I grab the closest and sharpest tool: my fruit knife.

"Ryan, you either disappear from my unit or I drive this knife into your heart!" I yell, lifting the knife in the air.

Ryan's half-closed eyes are now wide open. "Wait, wait! Lara—"

And when I bring the knife down, he yelps—and vanishes. My poor fruit knife stabs through the air, plunges into the metal wall, and breaks into pieces.

Great. There goes my only knife. Now I'll have to request for a new one.

"Warning: attempting to stab someone is a violation," Rea chimes into my ears.

Well, it's a little too late for that warning. With a heavy sigh, I stand up. I don't know where Ryan teleported to—to his own living unit, I hope—but at least he's out of here. I always make fun of his Gift for giving him the most unimpressive ability compared to the other generals, but I have to admit teleportation can be quite useful sometimes.

"Four, three, two..."

Time is running out, so I can't clean up the metal pieces. All I can do is to kick them under my bed and toss the remaining knife handle in the bin.

"...one! The one-minute grace period is up. Entering Cadet Lorensky's unit."

The door swings open, and the inspector bot glides in. Its spherical body hovers just an inch above the ground and reaches up to my knees. The black camera lens in the middle of its white body makes it look like a floating eyeball. An apt design for an inspector bot, I suppose.

As the lens turns to face me, I greet it with a smile. "W- Welcome!"

"Good evening, Cadet Lorensky. Performing unit inspection."

Light shines from the lens as the bot drifts across the room and rotates in the air.

The place still smells like alcohol, but it's a lot milder than when Ryan was here, thank goodness. As long as that guy is out of my unit, I know I am safe from violations...

"Violation detected," the inspector bot alerts.

I blink. "What? Really?"

The bot glides toward me, its lens flashing a small red light.

My heart races. Do I really have a violation? Could it be my fruit knife? Did the bot detect the broken pieces under my bed and think that I've committed some kind of violent crime?

"It- It was an approved kitchen knife," I quickly say. "I use it only for fruits and vegetables, but I, uh, accidentally broke it."

The inspector bot stops right in front of me. I watch as a robotic hand pops out of a hole on top; it now looks like a floating eyeball with an extendable eyelash. The hand extends to the ground and grabs a small bag that I did not notice before. It's a plastic bag full of... grass?

No Earthing way.

Did Ryan buy marijuana. And then... leave it here?

"Marijuana detected." The bot confirms my suspicions. It withdraws its hand and the bag into its body. "Cadet Lorensky, you are charged with possessing an illegal item. You are scheduled for a court hearing tomorrow at..." —the bot pauses for a beat— "10:25 am."

With that, it swivels around and hovers out of my living unit. The door slams shut, and I stare at it in silence for a long moment.

What... just happened?

Was I just... charged with a crime? And scheduled for a court hearing? All for a bag of marijuana that's not mine?

The world spirals around me. Did that really happen? Is this for real? This is worse than a mere violation. My record is not just going to get a blemish—it is going to completely fall apart!

My breath quickens, and my eyes are hot with tears. No. No, no, no... I shake my head. This can't be true. I worked too hard for too long. My dreams will not fall apart just because of an irresponsible brother who can afford to break the rules.

Panic warps into rage, and I burst out of my unit. I run across the hallway, past the inspector bot, and up the stairs. I don't stop running until I reach Ryan's unit and—despite Rea's incessant warnings in my ears about breaking and entering—barge through the door.

"Ryan, you buttface!" I scream.

Ryan is leaning on his kitchen island and drinking a cup of water, a towel draped along his shoulders. Unlike my unit, Ryan's living space is ten times bigger and has a floor-to-ceiling glass window that looks out into the clouds. The picturesque view—and the rare privilege of a window in a living unit—reminds me once again that he is a general with a cushy lifestyle. A lifestyle he got because he won the Selection twelve years ago, and that enrages me more.

"Why are you so angry?" Ryan counters, tilting his glass at me. "You tried to stab me. If anything, I should be the angry one."

I stomp over to him, trying to blink away my tears. "You left a bag of marijuana in my room, buttface! And now I'm charged with possessing it! And I have a court hearing about it tomorrow!"

"Oh." His face falls. "Oh, right, I forgot. Sorry, Lara, it's because I can't teleport with objects that are not compatible—"

"Yes, I know it's because your Gift is useless. You're useless! And now I'm going to be punished for your uselessness!"

"Lara, relax. Don't worry, I'll help you clear your name tomorr—"

"Don't worry? How do I not worry? You're constantly trying to ruin my life! You know I need to keep a clean record, yet you keep coming to me covered in contraband! You know I need to practice, yet you keep visiting me all the time! Why are you doing this to me? Just because you gave up your residency in NovaTopia doesn't mean I don't want to go there!"

"I know you do," Ryan says, his tone somber and genuine. "I'm sorry, Lara. I just wanted to check up on you."

That apology soothes the storm in my heart—just a little.

I slump onto a counter stool across from my brother, a pout on my lips. "I should've just left you passed out outside. I don't know why I bothered helping you."

Ryan's serious expression vanishes as he breaks into a teasing smirk. "Aw, it's because you still love me. I'm so happy."

And the storm within me stirs once more. "No. You're a loser."

"I'm not that much of a loser. I won the Selection before, remember?"

"Yeah, well, you used to be cool. But you are nothing like the recordings of you during your Selection. You're a loser who left NovaTopia to come back to Earth for drugs and alcohol."

"Hey, I'm still a general. Are you calling generals losers now?" He arches his brows playfully, challenging me. "Careful what you say, Lara."

I purse my lips. Generals are the highest-ranking officers in the Tower. They are NovaTopian residents blessed with Gifts powerful enough to rival an entire army, and they chose to leave their home to maintain peace in the Tower and Ground Earth. I admire their abilities and their dedication to serve.

But Ryan is different. He was born and raised in the Tower like me. He's a NovaTopian resident for only a day before he opted to return to the Tower as a general. He achieved the ultimate dream—and he rejected it.

All so he can get drunk and do drugs on Ground Earth.

"Whatever," I grumble. "You're still a loser. The other generals are awesome, and they have way cooler Gifts too."

Ryan shrugs. "I like my Gift."

"It got me into trouble!"

"And I'll get you out of it. I told you not to worry."

"I'm going to keep worrying until you actually get me out of the charges. My court hearing is at 10:25 am tomorrow. You better show up."

"I will, geez, Lara, relax."

Anxiety takes over me as I remember Ryan's chronic lateness. "How can I relax? I know you're gonna oversleep!"

"I can teleport, Lara. I'll make it to your hearing even if I wake up a little later than I wanted."

"Well, if you don't show up, I'll... I'll stab you! For real!"

"Warning," Rea intercepts my spiraling thoughts, "stabbing someone is considered assault."

"I- I didn't mean that literally..." I add quickly. "But you know what I mean!"

"I know, I know. Anyway, want something to drink? Or eat? You just got back from practice sessions, right?"

"Don't change the subject. You need to promise to set ten alarms tomorrow. No, a hundred!"

"Lara, please just relax. Let's eat something together, okay?"

"I have my own food. I don't need you to care for me."

"Lara..."

"And you better be there tomorrow!" I snap at him one last time before dashing out of the unit.

I hate Ryan. I hate his nonchalant attitude despite putting me in this terrible situation. Why couldn't he have stayed in NovaTopia? Or if he didn't like that option, why didn't he pick some other space station to live in? Anywhere but here. Then I wouldn't have been stuck with a loser brother—who neither acts his age nor his rank—as my legal guardian.

Stepping out of the door, I spot a familiar figure in the hallway. Morgan Sánchez is leaning against the wall across from Ryan's unit. They are dressed casually now, and their hair is damp and no longer styled in a side-swept. A few droplets of water trickle down their dark skin and red metal arm. They must have cleaned up and showered—something I would've done if Ryan had not ruined my night like that.

As our eyes meet, Sánchez raises their eyebrows. "Family troubles?"

My fury returns like a volcano's second eruption. Of course Sánchez is here to witness my lowest moments. Did they hear about me being charged? Are they here to gloat in my face? To laugh at my demise?

I've already lost to them all day. What more do they want me to lose?

Tears fill my eyes, and before Sánchez can see me cry, I bolt away from them.