Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Clara blinks at me, stunned. “You can ask it anything? Anything at all? And it will just give you answers?”
“Yes. Pretty much, anyway. You always need to take into consideration that each city has its own info rules.”
“What does that mean?”
“They scrub the databases of things they don’t want you to know. But I don’t think the traditional cities will be a problem.”
“OK.” She nods her head with resolve. “I will study as we walk so I can be the perfect dinner date.” Then she hooks her hand into my elbow—an old-fashioned gesture that actually lends credence to the idea that she’s from a traditional god city—and looks intently at the phone as we walk.
She reminds me so much of Anneeta tonight, it’s crazy. Because after only two days of hanging out together, Clara has adopted Anneeta’s eccentric style. She’s wearing her new green dress from Rodge, but she’s layered it with a long-sleeve brown Henley that kinda matches her thigh-high brown socks. Not stockings, socks. Made of cotton and ribbed. And she’s not wearing sexy high-heeled boots like the city girls, but the combat ones I got her when she was at the health center. Her jacket is something from the lost and found and resembles mine, but olive green instead of black. It’s cropped at the waist and covered in flower patches instead of deployment badges. She’s even got her hair piled up into something that falls between a plait and a bun. It’s very messy, but in all the right ways.
She is a textbook description of a vagabond girl and the whole fuckin’ look is sexy.
Maybe too sexy? Is it too sexy? This is when I notice that everyone we pass on the sidewalk is looking at her. Not casually, either. I feel like the women are memorizing her style so they can copy it tomorrow, but the men will definitely be undressing her in their minds tonight.
Stayn’s girls are gonna love her.
“OK.” Clara looks up at me. “There are two cities to choose from. Zeta and Rho. Which one am I from?”
“I’d go with Zeta. No news gets out of that place. It’s zipped up tight.”
“Well, how did I get out?”
“It’s not a prison. You just left.”
“Do many people do that?”
“No. But vagabond girls come from all over. So you got on a train for an adventure. You’ll go back one day. Probably. But you’re young and enjoying your youth.”
“So why did I stop here?”
“You ran out of money and you’re using me for my pension.”
She laughs, leaning into me a little. “Tyse Saarinen, you make me happy.”
For some stupid reason, and even though the night is very cold, a warm feeling floods my body. I smile, looking down at her. “Well, I would like to go on record that you, up-city Clara Birch, are a complete delight.”
She leans into me again, hugging my arm a little. But she doesn’t say anything else. And though the rest of the walk over to Stayn’s house on the banks of the main canal is silent, it’s the perfect kind of silence. Filled with moments that are neither too empty nor too full.
“Wow.” Clara is looking up at Stayn’s canal-front house in complete awe. “I’ve never seen such a building in my life. This is a house, you say?”
“Yes.”
“One family lives here?”
“Yep. And it is over the top, but in Stayn’s defense, he is the chief of patrol. It’s a very big deal. There are literally fifty thousand men under him. He’s like the general of his own private army.”
“He’s in charge of the Canal District?”
“No, the whole city.”
“Hmm. It sounds dangerous to give someone so much power. In my city there was a head of each district and they were like… you know, powerful, and rich, and stuff. Like Finn—he could command a lot of people, but not the heads of other districts. And he had no say whatsoever in the Maiden District.”
“Well. Power, when not checked on a regular basis, flows up. Not down.”
“I’m not sure I know what that means.”
“It means… it consolidates, ya know? Away from the people in general and towards heads of departments, like Stayn.”
“Is he a good guy? Or a bad guy?”
I’m slightly ashamed to admit that I have to think about this for a moment. “Well, he’s my friend, so I like him. But if he wasn’t, and all I saw was the power play and the politics, I would definitely consider him a bad guy.”
“That’s a good note. I will keep it in mind when I mingle.”
“I get the feeling dinner parties are second nature to you.”
“Oh, Tyse. I’m in my element here. I am so ready to go in there and compliment strangers while eating canapés, drinking champagne, and enjoying this evening to the fullest.” She pauses and looks up at me. “You do have canapés here, right?”