But that didn’t happen, because Stanton and three others in Galileo security uniforms were standing in front of the open garage, blocking my way in. I turned sharply, not really sure where I thought I was going, just wanting to get away. Maybe I thought I could run. I should have just put on the brakes and faced them. But I turned, yanking the handlebars, and the cycle’s tires slid out from under me. I crashed to the pavement, skidding another two meters before stopping. The ground scoured my clothes and skin. That really hurt.
I lay there for a moment, the right side of my body burning, the cycle’s front wheel spinning next to my head. The motor had cut out, at least. I tried to move, discovered I could, because the pain was all on the surface. Nothing broken. But maybe I should have pretended to be concusse
d so that they’d carry me to the infirmary and I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. When I looked up, Stanton and the others were staring down at me.
“Are you all right?” she asked in a flat tone.
“Um. Ow?” I said.
The guys in security uniforms lifted the cycle upright, and I slowly pushed off the ground. Stanton didn’t offer to help, of course. The right side of my clothes was shredded. The skin on my arm and leg under them weren’t much better, scraped raw and red, and embedded with grime. It was tender now, but it was really going to hurt in an hour or so.
“Can you explain yourself, Ms. Newton?” she said. I didn’t say anything, because the answer, essentially, was no, I couldn’t explain myself. I didn’t think I had to—it seemed self-evident: I’d taken a motorbike out for a ride.
“Go to the infirmary, get cleaned up. I’ll meet you there to discuss repercussions.”
Maybe they’d send me home. I hadn’t thought about that and felt suddenly hopeful.
Gravity had returned full force. It took forever for me to bend my bruised limbs and get myself to my feet. Stanton watched the whole time. In lighter gravity, I wouldn’t have smeared on the pavement quite so hard. It wasn’t fair.
The infirmary was part of the dorm complex, down another corridor. The nurse there wasn’t much more sympathetic than Stanton. After peeling out of my clothes—what was left of them—I put on standard hospital scrubs. Then I sat while the nurse washed the cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs, and doused them with an antiseptic spray. That really hurt, but I clenched my teeth, kept my mouth shut, and blinked back tears. I didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me cry when it was my own damn fault.
The moment the nurse finished wrapping the cuts in an antiseptic gauze, Stanton appeared, gaze focused like laser beams. She didn’t get close, didn’t get in my face. Just stood there regarding me from the edge of the exam room. I felt like a bug in a petri dish.
“Feeling better, Ms. Newton?” she said.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
A long pause followed. I could feel my own heart beating, faster than normal, nervous.
“May I ask: How did you sabotage the security protocols?”
I picked at the gauze on my arm. “I didn’t sabotage them, I just … worked around them.”
“All right. How did you work around them?”
They could find out how I did it by going over the computer network maintenance logs. They’d probably already done it. This wasn’t about finding out how I did it; it was about getting me to admit I’d done it. I talked faster than I was thinking, as if I could just say the right thing to make her understand. “It wasn’t that big a deal. I just went through the maintenance program to temporarily shut down power to the cameras. Didn’t touch security at all.”
She blinked at that, startled, as if that had never occurred to her. Which meant they’d lock that hack down and I’d never be able to use it again.
“Ms. Newton. You do understand that the security is here for your own protection. This isn’t a prison.”
A little voice in my head, one that sounded suspiciously like Charles, told me to lower my gaze and say, “Yes, Ms. Stanton, I understand.”
Really, I’d already won. I’d gone for my ride. I’d gotten out. Despite falling and getting scraped up and Stanton glaring at me, I felt better. I’d escaped gravity, however briefly. Now it was just a matter of whether or not I’d be kicked out of Galileo entirely.
“What did you hope to accomplish, Ms. Newton?”
“I just wanted to go for a ride.”
“Organized PE isn’t enough for you, is that it?”
“This is different, I just—” I shook my head, because she wouldn’t understand. Shut my mouth and didn’t try to explain.
“I’m afraid this episode can’t go unremarked,” Stanton said. “You’ll be put on restrictions for a month. Private study hall. Additional work in every class. You will not be allowed to raise your hand in class. You’ll be watched, Ms. Newton, so don’t think you’ll be able to repeat your little expedition. Breakfast is in an hour. Go to your room, wash up and get changed, and join your classmates in the dining hall. Understood?”
I glared, trying to return the laser gaze, but she’d had a lot more practice at it than I had.
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