Starglass Read Online Free PDF

course, no other citizen had a personal guard standing watch over his front door.
    The suite was reserved for ceremonial purposes—vocation ceremonies, retirement parties, things like that. Rachel had told me how some couples were married there, but only if their families were in good standing with the captain. I’d never been invited to such a wedding.
    I’d visited the stateroom only once, at our school convocation when I was six. I remembered how dark it was and how the ceiling was made of glass, but my memories didn’t do it justice.
    For one thing, everything was clean. Most of the ship felt ancient,rickety, and dusty. We had a few computer terminals in school, but the old tech was mostly too important to waste on ordinary citizens. There were rumors that the Council families had their own terminals, though most of us were stuck with books and paper. But in the hall that led to the captain’s stateroom, little blinking lights and computer screens were set into the walls. Everything felt strangely new. No expense had been spared.
    We filtered in. The ceiling panels here weren’t lit to simulate daylight. It was midmorning, but the sky above was star splattered. Hazy illumination spilled out of sconces in the wall. The black marble floors beneath our feet seemed to shine as much as the dark space above.
    Our families were waiting for us. Rachel spotted hers and gave a wave of her slender hand to her mother, who waved back from her seat in the crowd. But when I found my father, he only turned away—muttering something under his breath to Ronen.
    My brother had brought Hannah with him, of course. We never saw Ronen alone anymore, not since their wedding four years before. They moved together like a freakish two-headed lamb, her hand firmly glued to his arm. But she was the only one who smiled at me, waving. I forced myself to wave back. In truth, I felt bad for her—married to someone like my brother. But at least the marriage had been good for him . A gold thread was laced through the brown cord on his shoulder, marking him as a Council member now. It was only honorary. I don’tthink he’d ever been to a meeting. But it made our father happy.
    Beyond our seated families, at the far end of the room, a pair of metal doors gasped open. The captain’s guard stepped through, resplendent in their pitch-black uniforms, brass buttons gleaming against wool. I recognized the woman who led the pack. It was the guard from the night before. She carried a woven basket in her arms, weighted heavily by sealed rolls of paper.
    Captain Wolff followed on their boot heels. Her uniform matched theirs—all black and brass. But where they wore bloodred braids on their shoulders, the cord on hers was violet, threaded with gold. Supervisory staff and a Council member, too. She was the only one to wear those colors.
    At the center of the room sat a podium, ready and waiting. Captain Wolff marched right up to it, smiling. But the way the scar twisted her lip made it look more like a grimace. She rested her hand on the hilt of her ceremonial knife as she spoke.
    “Dear children,” she said, leaning hungrily forward, “and honored citizens. Remember that today is not simply the day that your sons and daughters earn their vocations, taking the last step toward becoming full citizens in the eyes of our society. No, indeed today is the day we all see our last class of children begin to ascend to adulthood within the confines of our ship.” Captain Wolff pointed a knobby finger straight toward us. I was too closeto the front for my liking. I squirmed, letting my hair veil my face.
    “ You , children, represent the pinnacle of our journey. You are the reason our ancestors departed from Earth so many years ago. As we begin the next step of our voyage, your loyalty is of the utmost importance. It is the work you’ll do that will cement our meager colony’s future on our new home. You are the foundation of everything that will follow. Through