DAY 29, 8:44 A.M.

Aboard the Tower Space Station

I know what has to be done.

Morning didn’t mean to help me, but her words are my answer: As long as you’re standing there and I’m standing here, you’re not gonna win. So far that’s been proven right. She changes the equation; she tips the scales. It doesn’t help that our team isn’t a team. We are a group of going and not going, of winners and losers. As I stare down at Eden, I realize I’m the only gray in our group of black and white. Everyone else has had their fate determined. Unless Babel has some final twist, they all know where they’re going.

I grab the brass key my father gave me and stuff it in a zip pocket. I skip breakfast and make my way down to the Waterway. After boarding the ship, I do a few nyxia tests. When I’m satisfied with the distances and heights and manipulations, I sit down and wait. The others are slow to arrive, but my heart sings when I see Azima and Katsu arrive first. I wave them down.

“ ’Lo, Emmett,” Katsu says.

“We don’t have long, so I can’t explain it fully, but I have a plan for today. Bilal’s going to take my spot on the hip, all right?”

Katsu shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Not whatever,” I snap back at him. “Look, I know you’ve already got your spot, but I don’t. I need one more win. If we lose the last four, I’m gone. No Eden.”

Azima frowns, but Katsu only shrugs. He’s feeling as defeated as the rest of us.

“That’s how the game works,” he says. “I want you to make it, but what can I do? Morning doesn’t lose. They’re good as gold for the last four games, Emmett. Sorry, man.”

“Just promise me you’ll do everything you can after it happens.”

“After what happens?”

“Just promise.”

“Sure, I promise.”

I glance over at Azima. She leans in and kisses my cheek. “I will fight for you.”

One burden off my shoulders. I heave a sigh and reach into my pocket, fish for the brass key. “If I don’t get to go, will you bury this on Eden?”

Azima plucks the key out of my hands. “What is it?”

“It belongs to my family. If I don’t get to go, I need someone else to take it. I’m the closest we’ve ever been…” Azima and Katsu look at me in confusion. “Just take it.”

Azima puts it in a zip pocket as the others arrive. There’s not much more I could have asked of them. Still, there’s one more person to talk to before we start. I spot Bilal at the back of the procession. When he crosses the gangplank, I pull him to one side.

“I need you.”

His eyes are soft and sad. “I lost, Emmett. It’s over.”

“Friend,” I plead. “My friend. I need you today. Will you help me?”

He stares at me. For a heartbeat, I’m afraid he’ll say no and my only plan will be lost.

“One more time,” he says. “And the next time you ask? I’ll say one more time again. And the next. And the next. Forever.”

I wrap my arms around him like the brother he is. I put aside the thought that our forever might end in just a few days. Katsu gets us started up. Genesis 12 looks relaxed and ready as Defoe and Requin make their appearance on the ramparts. Not even Morning glances over to note my changed position on the ship. Fear thunders in my chest. I’m afraid it won’t work and I’ll blow my one chance. But I’m also afraid of what might happen if it does work. I’m afraid of breaking something I don’t know how to fix.

“One lap today,” Defoe announces. “This is a bit of a slower course.”

Before they swipe the river to life and release us, I transform my station into the nyxian wall I saw Morning use on the first day. It spreads like smoke between our ships and blocks us from view. With another twist, the nyxian rings melt from my fingertips and transform into one of the poles Jazzy had us using in the Rabbit Room.

I line up with the captain’s chair and aim myself to the right. As Defoe gives the signal for us to begin, I get a running start. The pole wedges, then flexes, and I launch through the smoke wall. Even as Genesis 12 lurches into the river, my flight angle propels me right over Alex’s head. Omar cries out a warning, but not before I’ve stumbled smack into Morning’s captain chair. She’s fast, already ducking a shoulder, but I knew she would and my arms are vise tight as I spin her into my grip, lock my arms, and shove off the chair. We stumble into Anton, bounce left, and we’re airborne.

Morning screams as I tighten my grip, and we both plunge into the river. My ears flood and my neck burns with the slap of the water, but I don’t let go. She wedges her elbows, claws at my suit, everything. I don’t let go. After half a minute has passed, I start to laugh. Bubbles flood upward as I release her and fight for the surface. The divers are there, ready to drag us off to one side. Over the shoulder of my rescuer, I see Genesis 11 rounding the corner well ahead of Genesis 12. I’ve done my part. I can only hope my friends will do theirs.

When we’re safely up on the ramparts, Morning shoves past me, her eyes dark and angry. She’s been right this whole time. As long as she’s in the equation, her team will win. All I had to do was take her out of it and roll the dice on my team pulling off the upset. I follow her back to the starting point. The ramparts give us a good angle on the final half kilometer of the river. The boats haven’t appeared yet and won’t for a while. I stare at the empty blue as Morning paces anxiously. Her eyes keep darting from the scoreboard to the river and back.

“You act like this isn’t a good thing,” I say. “Like you don’t want me on Eden.”

Her eyes flick over to me. “I made promises. You know that.”

“You can’t take all of them.”

She just shakes her head and stares out over the water. She keeps pacing, and I know my fears were legitimate ones. She hates losing. She hates promising something she can’t deliver. Since the start, I knew my success would mean her failure. It shouldn’t, but she’s given herself such a high bar that anything other than perfection feels like a disaster.

If I’d pulled off my victory in the duels or on one of the days she had to sit out, losing wouldn’t be a big deal. But jumping across the ship and tackling her made everything personal. Now I’m the one who’s brought failure to her door.

“They’re going to win,” she says. “I’ve trained them. They’ll still win. I know they will. Loche…he needs to win….”

It hurts seeing how aware she is of the math. It means she knows how close I am. It means that she chose them over me. It shouldn’t hurt, but her words gut me.

“If they lose, then I get to go to Eden.”

When she turns back, her face looks torn. This was always the choice: me or them. Promises of the past or dreams of the future. I want to tell her it’s going to be all right, but now I’m not sure. I have no idea what will come around that corner. I have no idea what it will mean for me or for her or for us. Already I can see the broken pieces of what could have been.

“I didn’t promise you anything,” she says. “I promised them.”

She points. Her crew is the first around the corner. My heart stops beating. Genesis 11 comes around too, but they’re behind. With just five hundred meters left, they’re behind. I stumble toward the railing to get a better view. The ships are getting closer, bigger. Genesis 12 veers to the right. We can’t see from here, but the riverbed must be littered with shallow rocks. Their speed cuts, and Genesis 11 comes flying up on their right.

We watch the ships prepare for a collision. At the last second, Katsu jerks our ship to the left. The nose of Genesis 11 nails the back of Genesis 12. Even from two hundred meters, we hear the snap of wooden planks and the scrape of metal underbellies. Genesis 12 fishtails as Genesis 11 comes shouldering past. My crew swings left to miss a jutting rock and comes gliding free. I pump both fists into the air.

“Go!” I shout. “Come on! You’ve got this!”

Before Genesis 12 can right their ship, my crew comes rolling across the finish line. I slide down the nearest rampart and splash into the water. I’m half shouting and half gurgling as I swim to the docks. They come down the gangplank as I pull myself up, soaking wet and screaming like a madman. Katsu pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

“How you like that driving?” he shouts. “Captain Katsu, at your service!”

Bilal wraps his arm around us. “That jump was amazing, Emmett. Amazing.”

“You can bury this yourself,” Azima says, shoving the key back into my hands.

We’re laughing together when Defoe and Requin descend the staircase. Genesis 12 anchors behind us. I turn just in time to see Morning’s fury. She won’t meet my eye as she walks through the lines of her team, as she whispers the quiet words I’ve just made reality. Loche knows what this means too. Ida is crying as she shouts that she won’t go anywhere without him. A look from Requin silences her. I want to feel bad for them, but I’m going to Eden. A thousand burdens have slipped off my shoulders. My journey goes on. I’ll have another chance to honor Kaya, to pay my respects, and to help my family.

A scoreboard looms behind the two Babel leaders. On it, the scores have gone official. My heart beats so fast that it can’t be the same one. Maybe I have an Earth heart and an Eden heart now. Two hearts, one for each world. They both skip a beat, though, when the eliminated participants are cleared off the board. All the work they’ve put in, gone just like that.

Defoe steeples his fingers. “Thus concludes our competition. There are two more scheduled days, but all possible outcomes have been decided. Loche, Roathy, Bilal, and Brett. Please head upstairs. You’ll have a final goodbye, but we need a moment to speak with those that will go to Eden. Please follow your attendants out.”

A hatch opens at the far end of the dock. The medics are waiting in their pristine white dress suits. I catch a glimpse of Karpinski before spotting Vandemeer. He stands off to the side, beaming a smile at me. He’s gracious enough not to shout or wave while the others are escorted out, but I know he knows, and I know he’s proud of me.

Bilal stops at the end of the hallway. His dark eyes are wide as he waves back, smiling. Both my hearts break as he turns the corner and vanishes. Even losing, he’s better than me. If I’d been in his shoes, I would have stormed down the hall and never looked back. The hatch closes. We straighten our shoulders, and Requin smiles down at us.

“Congratulations. We know what we put you through. We know the difficulties. But now comes the hard part. Taking all of this practice and putting it to the test. Reading about the Adamites is different than standing face to face with them. Where you’re going, the wolves are real, the dangers are plenty, and the task is demanding.” His smile widens. “But you’re as ready as we can make you, and you just became bloody millionaires. So celebrate tonight. Eat good food and sleep soundly in your beds. You’re going to Eden.”

There are cheers and shouts. Hugs of delight and relief. But pain too. Morning’s trying to look excited for the rest of the crew, but I can see guilt riding her shoulders. Isadora and Ida are lost; both are crying. It’s not hard to see the difference between them, though. Ida huffs her tears like the world has ended and there’s nothing she can do. Isadora’s tears run down her face to splash onto clenched fists. She looks ready to destroy worlds.

Morning’s the first to ask, “When do we leave?”

Defoe looks up from his data pad. “Tomorrow night. Pods will release at nine p.m. It’s the best atmospheric window for your descent. Requin and I will use the time between now and then to form the teams of five we intend for you to work in while you’re on Eden. You’ll be equipped for the descent, supplied from our cargo satellites, and in constant communication with the Tower Space Station.”

“But business tomorrow,” Requin chides. “Tonight, enjoy yourselves.”