The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2)

we had to march with them, down a hall like any other. I saw plain concrete walls, scuffed-up tile floors, and a break room no fancier than our own—a table and two chairs, a kettle for tea. Nobody seemed to be on break. We passed a series of anonymous gray doors, all closed, all numbered but the last one on the right. That one read ADMIN, and it marked the end of our journey.
A green light flashed twice, and I heard a lock disengage. The ADMIN door slid open. I took two steps forward, and my heart stopped. Just behind me, Ona gasped. I’d heard stories of Lady Lazrad, how she’d lived so long her skin had hardened to marble. How her eyes shone like lamps, how her nails had turned to steel. The stories hadn’t prepared me for the reality. The woman before me shimmered like glass. She shone from within, casting light instead of shadow. I could see through her, I realized, a poster on the wall scattering leaves across her face. She turned, just slightly, and nodded to herself.
“Two prime, one subprime,” she said. “All bound for—”
“Excuse me, Governor. The camera—”
I whirled to see who’d spoken, but no one was there. When I turned back to Lazrad, she was looking right at me. She had Prium’s eyes and his long, slender hands. She stood like him, too, somehow managing to look down on me, though I had a full head on her.
“Ona Hyde,” she said. “And Myla Hyde, and Lock Powell.” Our names sounded strange on her tongue, sharp and clipped. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve summoned you.”
I clenched my jaw tight. I wanted to shake her till she rattled—grab her and shake her and scream their names in her face, all the dead she’d left behind. I smiled instead, flashed her every one of my teeth.
“We’re honored,” said Ona. She dropped into a curtsey, incongruous in pants. Lazrad just stared at her, and Ona straightened up, blushing. “I’m honored. We’re honored. Myla, too.”
“Honored,” I repeated. It came out flat and venomous, and Lock elbowed me in the ribs. Lazrad didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ve called you here to congratulate you,” she said. “Given the extent of your accomplishments, I’d hoped to come in person, but this will have to do.”
I blinked, confused. In person? How had she come, if not in person?
“Your service to Echelon is to be recognized,” said Lazrad. She rattled off the words as though reading from a script, her weird, luminous eyes focused somewhere beyond my ear. “You kept your heads in the clutches of our enemies. You navigated your captivity with courage and returned to us bearing bounty beyond compare. For this, and for your loyalty, I mean to reward you.”
I glanced at Ona. She was leaning forward, lips parted, eyes alight with fervor. She’d clasped her hands to her breast, and I’d have sworn she was trembling. Lock was scratching his chin, slack-jawed, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Thank you,” whispered Ona. “Thank you. We—”
“Prium will brief you on the details. As for me—” Lazrad touched her wrist, and she vanished without a trace. I yelped, then nearly screamed as Prium took her place. Ona scuttered backward, her heel thumping the door.
“What—what—”
“A hologram,” said Prium. He smirked unpleasantly, tucking his gloves in his pocket. “What, you thought she’d come here? To see you?” His eyes sparkled. “I’m real, though. Didn’t you see me? I’ve been here all along.”
I stared at his hands, pulse pounding. If he touched me, I’d snap. I’d fly at him, flatten him, pound his brains to liverwurst.
“Anyway, left to myself, I’m not sure I’d reward you, but here we are.” Prium sat down, propping his feet on his desk. His soles were gold leather, burnished to a high shine. It felt like an insult, him showing us those, like the lowest part of him was worth more than us. “You were foolish,” he said. “You took foolish risks. The resources you wasted, the search parties, the raid—”
I breathed deep and tuned him out. He’d been sent to reward us. Soon, he’d get to it, and we’d be on our way.
“Still, I can’t deny your accomplishments. Lock—you’ve logged more missions than any Decemite in history. And Ona.” He tapped his nails on the arm of his chair. “You opened the mines to us, put us on the path to rigur without end. You suffered, you bled...” His tongue darted out, and he sighed or maybe moaned. “As for you, Myla—well, some might call you brave.”
If he’d hoped to embarrass me, Prium was out of luck. I stood, impassive, waiting for him to be done.
“Let me ask you this: What do you want for yourself, more than anything else?”
Lock made a surprised sound, a soft, goofy buh? I snorted without meaning to and covered it with a cough. Prium glared at us both.
“It’s not a difficult question.” He rose and approached Lock, heels squeaking on the floor. “You. What do you want?”
“My family in the Stars.” Lock spoke without hesitation, his voice ragged with longing. “A big house by the Walk, where the light spills in their windows. Medicine for my mom. She’s got the Undercrud.” He stepped forward, entreating. “Just, I’d want them all safe, safe and happy. I’d die for that. I’d do anything.”
Prium made a humming sound, as though assessing Lock’s response. He turned to Ona and hooked his thumb under her chin. “And you? What’s your dream?”
Ona inhaled sharply. “Everything he said, and to go on serving Echelon.” She drew herself up, beaming with pride.
“Hmph.” Prium let his hand drop, and his gaze fell on me. “And you? Same as your sister?”
I bristled. To go free, I thought. To take Ona and run, and never look back. But we couldn’t run from her nanobots, the death sentence in her blood. The cure was here, if it was anywhere. Running meant Ona dying in my arms, five years at the outside, then—
“What’s the