Spinning Starlight Read Online Free PDF Page A

yesterday. As much as I don’t want to, I take an extra five minutes
to brush and braid my hair. After everything Minali said about spin, she’ll be more likely to listen to me if I’m not running around the city looking like a lunatic…again. I scarf
down a protein bar, too. I’m starving.
    The sun is barely teasing the horizon when I leave the townhouse, my security-cam humming along behind me. Much too early for anyone to be in at JTI, but I told Dom to send an urgent message for
Minali to meet me right away. The alert will wake her up if necessary.
    It isn’t far, so I walk, even though that means picking up plenty of vid-cams on the way. Their presence is so common, it gives the illusion of everything being normal. Almost comfortable
when everything is so definitely
not
normal. Some aren’t on autopilot, it turns out, because the voices of their media-grub owners come out of minuscule speakers.
    “Any comment on yesterday’s unusual events, Liddi?”
    “Not yet.” I keep my eyes on my destination. Just a few more blocks.
    “Doesn’t seem like you to head into the office so early in the morning. Or at all.”
    That’s true in a way, but I bristle. I don’t come in to JTI, but I’m in the workshop at all hours, usually trying not to smash my head against the bench. “Let’s
face it. How much do you guys think you
really
know about what is or isn’t like me?”
    “We know you prefer clubs on the east side of the entertainment district, and fashions from the aquatic zones of Yishu.”
    Several other cameras prattle off bits of minutiae gleaned from my attendance at parties and galas and whatever else qualifies as “not working for JTI.” I don’t say anything
until I’ve reached the door.
    “Exactly. You know what I’ve wanted you to know. And that’s how it stays.”
    I wave to the guard at the security desk—he knows better than to slow me down—and go straight to the elevator bank. Minali’s office is empty, but not for long. She arrives
three minutes after I do. Every hair is in place, her pants are perfectly pressed, so only the weariness in her eyes betrays the early hour.
    “What is it, Liddi?” she asks. “Did something happen?”
    “I think I figured it out.” I quickly summarize everything, from seeing Vic-or-Luko as I ran from the house to the technologist’s notes I stumbled on. “Could that be it?
Could they be in the conduits, stuck in transit without an exit point?”
    My words spilled out so quickly, Minali’s face didn’t have much chance to react until the conclusion. Now her eyes widen and her hands flex.
    “No. I mean yes. It makes sense. I should have thought of it.”
    She should have? I thought the way-out-there nature of the idea explained no one figuring it out. “Why?”
    After another moment of thought, Minali taps and swipes a few commands on her desk, activating the wallscreen. Seven icons are arranged with a web of thin lines connecting all of them. Off to
the side is some kind of fluctuating meter.
    “Is that the conduit network?” I ask.
    “It is. This is how it looked when the conduits were first established.” She swipes the panel again. The lines connecting the Seven Points turn fainter, flickering. The meter
fluctuates more wildly, and at a higher level. “This is how it is now. Has been for a while.”
    “What does it mean?”
    “The conduits have never been very efficient. That over there?” She points to the meter. “It’s the energy intake per trip, making the hyperdimensional shift and back
again. It’s quadrupled. Yet even with all that energy, the conduits are destabilizing.”
    I try to swallow against the dust that seems to coat my throat. Destabilizing does not sound good. “What does it have to do with my brothers? How did they get stuck?”
    “I’m not sure exactly. But I do know they’ve been working on this destabilization problem for almost a year. It’s obviously a top priority.”
    That feels right. Just