And we used our EMP weapon, which crashed their computers, their planes, their stock markets? It was a war, people. Nobody won. Not us, not the Pac Rim countries. In less than a year, the face of America changed to a sprinkling of Starters like me in a sea of silver-haired Enders, well off, well fed, and oblivious.
That nasty little policy had been in place before the war, with the aging population, but it had become even more of an issue postwar. I shook my head. I hated thinking about the war. I passed a pizza place. The hologram in the window looked so real, complete with bubbling cheese. The fake scent blasts taunted me. I remembered the taste, the hot, sticky mozzarella, the tangy tomato sauce.
Living on the streets for the past year meant I was always hungry. But I especially missed hot food. When I reached Prime Destinations, I hesitated. Long hair hanging like tangled rope. Was I still there, somewhere, under all this?
While I waited at the reception desk for Tinnenbaum, I noticed two men arguing in a conference room off the lobby. One of them, facing the open door, was Tinnenbaum. The other man I could see only from the back. He was taller and wore an elegant black wool coat.
Only a few inches of his silver hair protruded from his fedora. Tinnenbaum moved to the left, out of view. The tall man glared at a glass case of electronic equipment.
The hair on the back of my neck rose with a prickle. He appeared to be sizing me up. At that point Tinnenbaum came out of the room alone, closing the door behind him. He came over to greet me with his trademark freaky grin. He must be important. Prime Destinations himself. To my right was a framed mirror. Observation window, I imagined.
Before the war. He told me about this place. He was in the Science Corps. He trained me. And my mother. Would I be living on the street if I had grandparents? I had to ask. For working? We need you as much as you need us. Tinnenbaum introduced me to an Ender named Doris, who was assigned to be my personal mentor. She had the silver hair of an Ender but the body of a ballerina.
She dressed in typical Ender fashion, retro clothing with modern touches. Her suit was classic s, but a power belt cinched her tiny waist. Rib removal, no doubt. She took me to their gym and tested me in fencing and archery, as well as in general strength, stamina, and gymnastics exercises.
We were left with only the target shooting. Tinnenbaum and I got into the back of a limo and rode for twenty minutes. Trapped in the small space, he coughed and wrinkled his nose, then held his handkerchief to it. The motion shoved me back, back to three years ago, when I was thirteen, when my dad had done the same thing.
And Tyler. I shut one eye and used the other to line up the digital sight on the target, an outline of a man. Then I shut both eyes and quickly opened them. The sight was still dead-on. I breathed in and squeezed the trigger. The bullet pierced the red circle in the center of the forehead. The Range Master said nothing. He nodded for me to shoot again. Tinnenbaum stood completely still, staring at the target as if it had to be some trick.
Other shooters, all Enders, stopped their practice to watch me hit the same spot, every time. Thanks, Dad. It displayed my contract. I skipped to the important parts: three rentals and the payment. And to bribe an adult to sign the lease for us. His smile faded. For a minor. But I needed the money more than I needed a better answer. What would my dad have said about this? I pushed the thought out of my mind.
A real home. Tinnenbaum gazed out the limo window, trying to look casual. But I noticed his leg had an uncontrollable nervous twitch. When we arrived back at the body bank, I wondered if Mr. Tinnenbaum would introduce me to the tall man from before. But we never saw him. Instead, Tinnenbaum handed me off to Doris. My hand instinctively touched the end of my stringy hair, as if to keep her from chopping it off.
She reached for my arm. Her nails glowed with a dazzling iridescent polish that reminded me of an abalone shell.
I stood naked on a raised, revolving platform and held on to a bar hanging above my head. Tiny goggles protected my eyes while bittersmelling chemicals blasted my entire body.
Large foam pads taller than my head pushed out from curved panels, moving closer and closer until I thought I was going to be smothered. Finally, it stopped and pulled back for the last step, a high-powered water stream that sprayed from every direction and hurt like needles. I passed through a small chamber lit only by blue lights, and then a hot, dry one.
I was judged to be a clean palette and was whisked off for a series of beauty procedures. First up, laser treatments. This Ender team said it was just to clean up my freckles and teenage skin, but it took a long time. Then Doris led me to a small room to meet their in-house hairstylist.
Hers had streaks of purple, and it went straight up in spikes. I tried to pass on the haircut. Give you some layers. I was dying to see the results, but no one seemed to care. Doris picked out some clothes for me to wear, and I changed in a small room with no mirror. Before I could even look at myself, I was rushed to another room, where I had to stand against a wall and pose for the camera. I tried to smile like the red-haired girl in the hologram Tinnenbaum had shown me.
When I left the holo room, I was mush. I put my hand to my face. Was I that different? I had. And refreshed for tomorrow. I followed her clicking heels down the hallway. Moments later, I was lying in a real bed. With sheets. And a cloud-soft comforter. I had forgotten the luxury of a clean bed, how sheets felt slippery against your skin.
I wondered what he was doing. Was the new place Michael found safe? Did they have blankets to keep them warm? I felt guilty lying in this plush bed with a trillion pillows. It reminded me of our old guest room, which my mom had decorated with such love.
I was almost too tired to eat it. When I parted the pair of calico curtains hanging above my bed, all I saw was wall. I went to the door and put my ear to it. I tried to open it to peek outside but it was locked. My heart sped up at the thought of being trapped. I took a couple of deep breaths and told myself the door was locked to protect me. I was wearing the white pajamas that had been on the bed the previous night. I gasped. I was beautiful.
My cheekbones were more pronounced. This was what money could do. This was what every girl could look like, if she had endless resources. What would Michael say when he saw me? I focused my attention on the closet. One garment hung inside. A hospital gown. Doris unlocked my door and came in, wearing a belted pantsuit and a too-sunny smile.
She did that drumming thing with her nails, which was beginning to drive me crazy. Follow me. I noticed the dinner tray from last night was gone. When had that happened? All your favorites. No one had done that to me since my mother died. It hit a trigger point for me, and I felt my eyes getting moist. A lump formed in my throat. Doris leaned closer and smiled. I had pushed the procedure out of my mind, but now it was here.
I hated needles, hated knives, hated being put under and having no control. Maybe they knew that, because they had already started me on some tranquilizer.
The pattern on the ceiling began to melt until it was blurry. Tinnenbaum had made the surgery sound simple. But I had overheard the surgeons when I was in pre-op. It was going to be complicated. I was too woozy to remember the details. The Ender nurse, trim and handsome, smiled down at me while he rolled my gurney. Was he wearing eyeliner? This was crazy. I was a wimp who got sweaty palms just waiting for a vaccination.
And there I was, volunteering to be operated on. My brain, no less. Probably my favorite body part. No one ever complained about a fat brain.
No one ever accused their brain of being too short or too tall, too wide or too narrow. Or ugly. I prayed it still would after the surgery. We came to a stop. I was in the operating room, baking under the bright lights. Think of it like the little microchip we put in our pets.
Who was this Ender? Arms rustled about me. Someone placed a cone over my mouth and told me to count backward from ten. I woke up in a bed in what felt like seconds. Terry, the nurse, stared down at me. The surgeon said it was a thing of beauty. All I saw was a white haze. Let me get you upright. My eyes focused. Get used to it. To my left, a panel that had to be a one-way mirror.
Several silver cameras, one on the ceiling, two on the walls. To my right, a tall Ender with black eyeglass frames and long white hair sat at a computer. Big effort. He may have been an Ender, but once a geek, always a geek.
I noticed there was a plastic medical bracelet on my wrist. I ran through my favorites in my head: lobster, steak— heck, even pizza would have made me happy. Would it have been pushing it to ask for caramel cheesecake? Before I could say a word, Trax grinned.
With caramel cheesecake for dessert. Food choices are easy. We ran your cerebral input against a small database and scored the hits. And this proves we have a connection from you to the computer. Your neurochip works. Terry patted my shoulder. I saw he had black nail polish. Just enjoy the ride. I ate the lunch they had ordered for me. It killed me not to be able to share this feast with Michael and Tyler.
Get enough to eat? She opened the closet and pointed to a hanger with a casual pink top and white jeans. Underwear was also on the hanger, a modest polka-dotted bra and panties cut larger than I usually wore. Remove everything, including that.
We always do it that way, sort of a dry run. To make sure it all goes as planned. Better for them, you, and us. We do screen our renters very carefully, so rest assured, this is a lovely woman. They sign a contract too. The first edition of the novel was published in March 12th , and was written by Lissa Price. The book was published in multiple languages including English, consists of pages and is available in Hardcover format. The main characters of this young adult, science fiction story are Callie Woodland,.
Please note that the tricks or techniques listed in this pdf are either fictional or claimed to work by its creator. We do not guarantee that these techniques will work for you. Some of the techniques listed in Starters may require a sound knowledge of Hypnosis, users are advised to either leave those sections or must have a basic understanding of the subject before practicing them. Enders gave me the creeps.
The doorman ashed a practiced smile as he let me into the body bank. He wasnt that old, maybe , but he still made me shudder. Like most Enders, he sported silver hair, some phony badge of honor of his age. Inside, the ultramodern space with its high ceilings dwarfed me. I walked through the lobby as if gliding through a dream, my feet barely touching the marble oor.
He directed me to the receptionist, who had white hair and matte red lipstick that transferred to her front teeth when she smiled. Your email address will not be published.
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