Nova Project #1 by Emma Trevayne Page A

He just crossed the corner on which he kissed her the first time. Time had felt infinite in those few seconds.
    Realistic as the game is, in its mythical monster way, it’s a great place to hide from reality.
    â€œMig!”
    He stops, startled, turns in the direction of the voice, also the direction of the sun, which burns his eyes. A tall figure is running toward him, but only when she’s inches away does he see who it is. “Oh. Hey, Amanda.”
    â€œHey yourself. Haven’t seen you since the party. What’s up?”
    â€œNothing. Been busy.” It’s not as if they’ve ever hung out that much outside school, but she’s one of the more bearable, funnier people in his class. “What are you doing here?” She lives farther from the school than he does, has clearly justcome from inside it. “Did you forget it’s summer vacation?”
    â€œHa. No. Taz and I have an extra credit project. Not sure what we’ll do if one of us is picked, though. You entered, right?”
    â€œYeah. Did my test yesterday. Medical tomorrow.”
    â€œMine, too. You’ll pass, though, strong dude like you.”
    He is temporarily more aware of his heartbeat. “Sure.”
    â€œYou want to come in, chill with us? Taz and Seb are fighting again, so I wouldn’t mind some happier company.”
    He’s flattered she thinks he would be. Although he is happy, curiously so given that he’s not inside a Cube. Sometimes the outside world has something to recommend it. “Sorry, I told Nick and Anna I’d meet them after their tests.”
    If she recognizes the lie, she doesn’t let on. “Oh. Okay. Well, I should get back in there. Wish me luck.”
    â€œLuck,” he says, watching her turn and jog back inside the low red building in which he’s wasted far more than half his available life. He might as well go meet Nick and Anna, see how they did even if they can’t really talk about it. The Cube they’re in is a couple of miles away. The walk will do him good.
    There aren’t as many Chimera hospitals as there are Cubes, here or anywhere, but there are still several in the city, their edges also etched in different colors, and everything inside is as state of the art as the game. Androids, incapable of making errors, perform minor procedures on their own and majorones under supervision. Miguel knows from experience that the human body is as unpredictable and badly behaved as a Chimera boss, bleeding inconveniently when science and logic dictate that it shouldn’t. He’s pretty glad that when it’s happened to him, the figure standing over him was capable of creative, human thought. Nanobots scuttle over every surface, invisible to the naked eye, chewing up atoms of dirt. The only place they don’t touch is a towering apple tree in the glass expanse of the atrium, a rare, growing thing. A projected plaque in blue light blathers something about its being a symbol of life and rejuvenation.
    â€œMiguel Anderson, here for my medical,” he says into a speaker at a desk. A series of arrows flicker to life on the floor, guiding his way through the maze of hallways. Man, he wishes the game had that.
    The arrows guide him deep into the building and onto a square of floor, indistinguishable but for the lack of ceiling above it, that rises when it senses his body weight. Four floors up, it slides left to join another hallway and let him off. More arrows take him to a small waiting area arranged with empty seats.
    He has yet to see a single person. That makes sense, it always has. Limiting human contact here minimizes the chance of infection, though the risk is already small. The doctors here are the best, and their proprietary drugs kill anything thatmight damage their ingenious work.
    â€œYou may enter,” says a mechanical voice before he’s given time to sit. Yet another arrow, likely the last, appears over a