The Atlas Six (The Atlas 1)

If you could call them questions.

“Yes,” said Libby, “several.”

So many, in fact, that she hardly knew where to start.

Libby had been doing a variety of things over the past couple of days. Research, as always. Following her visit from the Forum, she had been looking primarily for anything to do with Kitty, to no particular results. All the library would give her—or, in any case, all the library was programmed by someone else to give her—were subjects pertinent to their task at hand: degenerative curses, longevity and its opposites. The decay that was a process of natural entropy was currently off limits unless it had something to do with the study of intentional corruption.

Libby had just begun to wonder who was actually keeping them from the contents of the library when Nico had pulled her aside for another conversation entirely, looking unusually distressed.

“I have to tell you something,” he said. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Apropos of nothing? I assume not.” Libby had never liked anything Nico had to say to her uninvited and certainly wasn’t expecting to start now. She opened her mouth to tell him she had other things on her mind, but hastily he stopped her.

“Just… try not to Rhodes this,” he said. “Okay?”

“Once again, my name is not a verb, Varona.”

“Whatever.” He rubbed his temple. “Look, definitely don’t tell Fowler—”

“I don’t tell Ezra anything,” she snapped, preemptively irritated. “Certainly not anymore.”

Nico blinked. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Nothing she wanted to say to him, anyway. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine, just—” Nico exhaled, dropping his voice. “I think,” he murmured, “when they say we have to eliminate someone, they mean it… literally.”

That wasn’t what Libby had been expecting at all. “What?”

“The sixth person, the person who doesn’t get initiated. I think they get—” An agitated pause.

“Get what?”

“Jesus.” Nico tousled his hair with one hand. “Killed.”

“No,” said Libby. “That’s ridiculous. That’s impossible.”

“I mean, I’m sure it is,” said Nico reflexively. “But also, is it?”

“That’s nonsensical.”

She glared at him, frowning. “Who told you that?”

“Parisa, but—”

That was slightly more troubling, given the mind-reading. “Then she must have misinterpreted or something. Or maybe she’s lying.”

Nico was surprisingly hesitant. “I don’t think so, Rhodes.”

“Well, it’s outrageous,” said Libby caustically. “There’s no way we’re part of… of some kind of…” She fumbled, flustered. “Some sort of murder competition—”

“Maybe we’re not,” Nico agreed. “Maybe it’s a trick or something. Or maybe it’s the whole intent thing Dalton was going on about,” he said, waving a hand in reference to the lesson he had probably only half-listened to. “Maybe we just have to be willing to do it in order for it to work, but—”

“What do you mean ‘work’?”

“Well, Parisa says—”

“Parisa doesn’t know shit,” said Libby staunchly.