Reese ran downstairs and into the kitchen, where her dad was mixing pancake batter. “Reese?” he said, but she didn’t answer. She opened the back door and went outside to look at the sky. The ship was heading north at a smooth, stately pace, and it made no sound and left no contrail.
As it headed out of sight, Reese went back inside, going into the living room to turn on the news. An image of the black spacecraft took up the whole screen as a headline crawled across the bottom:
In a voice-over, the news anchor was reporting: “—City of San Francisco has been dealing with crowd control problems ever since the Imrian spacecraft took up position over the Noe Valley neighborhood three days ago. Today we have learned that the State of California has granted permission for the ship to land on Angel Island, which is a California state park. The park itself will be closed to tourists for the foreseeable future. The Imrian representatives on board the ship are reportedly in talks with the United Nations to meet with diplomats at the annual meeting of the General Assembly this fall.”
The black walls were a familiar sight by now: The ship was seamless and windowless, without a single distinguishing mark on its surface. Analysts had spent hours on cable news shows speculating about why the ship was so blank, with stealth being the most popular theory.
“The crowds that have congregated daily in Noe Valley to view the spaceship are now moving with the ship as it makes its way over the city to the bay,” the news anchor said.
The scene changed to show a helicopter’s view of the streets of Reese’s neighborhood. Thousands of people were packed onto the sidewalks, and all of them were turning en masse to watch the spaceship fly away. Their signs seemed to sag in unison, the motion of their bodies like a giant arrow pointing north. Even the cars had stopped as people climbed out to watch the flight of the Imrian craft.
“California Governor Anthony Moreno will be giving a press conference in a few minutes to explain the state’s decision to allow the Imrian spaceship to land on state property,” said the news anchor. “There is speculation that Angel Island was selected because it can be isolated, preventing large crowds from gathering there.”
Reese went to the bay windows and peeked around the edge of the curtains. The crowd was paying no attention to her house now; they were rushing in the direction of the ship. Reese heard her parents come into the living room and sit on the couch, but she couldn’t tear herself away from the window. The exodus didn’t take long. The street emptied of tourists in barely half an hour, leaving trash strewn across the road and clumped in the gutters: plastic bottles, candy wrappers, brown paper sacks greasy from the ends of burritos. It was a residential neighborhood, so there weren’t any public trash cans. Reese saw one of the neighbors across the street emerge from his garage with a broom and a trash barrel. As he began clearing the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed a champagne-colored sedan parked nearby.
A man in a black suit was in the driver’s seat.
Reese backed away from the window, letting the curtains fall shut, and sat down in the armchair. The governor’s press conference was about to start, but she couldn’t focus on the television. All she could think about was the man in the car across the street. The government was clearly still watching her, and it wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
CHAPTER 6
On Monday morning, Agent Forrestal was waiting right inside Kennedy High School’s front doors with the Defense Department’s Jeff Highsmith.
“Good morning, Miss Holloway,” Highsmith said, smiling.
Reese hated when people called her “miss.” She wondered when the title had lost its aura of respect; now all it did was tell her she was being patronized. “Hey, Jeff,” she said. His smile disappeared.
Across the lobby, Reese saw Diana Warner waiting with David and his family. Reese headed across the mosaic-tiled floor to meet them, her parents following. The school smelled of industrial floor cleaner, along with that indefinable something extra—the lingering trace of thousands of students, their perfumes and deodorants and the faintly musty scent of books—that combined to create a scent that Reese would always recognize as Kennedy High. David saw her coming and stepped away from his parents to greet her with a hug.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” There was no time to linger, because as soon as they had greeted each other’s parents, Diana took them to a classroom that had been taken over by the
As the makeup artist poked at Reese’s eyes with wands and brushes, repeatedly asking her to stay still, Diana went over the plans with Reese, David, and their parents. The main interview would be shot in Mr. Murray’s biology classroom, and then Sophia wanted Reese and David to give her a tour of the school on camera. Reese and David were to be interviewed first, and after their portion was finished, Sophia would sit down with their parents.
“What about Highsmith?” Reese heard her mom ask.
“He’ll be observing,” Diana said.
The makeup artist finished touching up Reese’s lips and stood back. “You’re all set,” she said, and handed Reese a mirror.
Reese was taken aback by her own reflection. She wore makeup to debate tournaments, but she had no idea what the makeup artist had done to make her eyes look so big. They looked more greenish than usual, too, and her lips were shiny with some kind of peach-colored gloss.
“You look great,” her mom said from the makeup chair beside her.
“Thanks,” Reese said. She glanced up and saw David standing nearby, flipping through the release forms that the TV producers had given them. His hair and makeup had been finished first, but she hadn’t seen him yet. The stylist had done something to his hair to tame the parts that stuck up in the wrong places, and as he read through the forms, unaware that Reese was watching him, she realized with a jolt that she was about to tell the world—on television—that she was dating him. She had known him for so long, but she didn’t think she had ever seen him the way she did right then. The outfit that Diana Warner had picked did look good on him. The shirt clung to him just enough to show off his broad shoulders, and the jeans fit perfectly. The stylists had put some kind of pomade into his hair that made it seem blacker and sharper than before, emphasizing the clean line of his jaw and the angle of his eyebrows.
He looked up and caught her eye, and she realized she had been openly staring at him. Her entire body heated up and she hoped the makeup she was wearing hid the redness on her cheeks. He grinned and came over to her, leaning down to whisper, “You look amazing.”
She was short of breath. “Thanks.”
“David, Reese, let me introduce you to Sophia Curtis,” said Diana.
Reese scrambled to her feet. The reporter was standing nearby with a small but friendly smile on her face. “Hello,” she said, extending her hand to Reese first.
“Hi,” Reese said. When she shook Sophia’s hand, she had the briefest impression of clear, bright edges: like a cut-glass prism.
“Hi,” David said, shaking her hand as well.
“We’re ready to begin,” Sophia said. “Follow me.”
Though Diana had warned them that Jeff Highsmith would be observing, Reese hadn’t realized that Agent Forrestal and another man in black would be there too. They stood right inside the door to Mr. Murray’s room like guards, and every time Reese glanced in their direction, they were watching her or David. Highsmith took a seat out of camera range and told Sophia Curtis to start whenever she was ready.
She asked Reese and David to begin with what had happened after they left Phoenix during the June Disaster, but as they began to talk about Project Plato, Highsmith interrupted. “That’s classified. You signed a nondisclosure agreement about your treatment there.”
