Page 39 of Last Chance to Save the World

He’s not going to let me out of his sight.

There are uniformed officers sprinkled throughout the crowd—quite a few, actually, more than normal. I wonder if Rian enlisted them or if they’re just here because a crowd is here, and crowds on festa days aren’t always peaceful.

When I try to push deeper into the throng of people, Rian stays right beside me. I swing into a chaotic dance with strangers, and he stubbornly refuses to move from his position right in the way.

It’s not just him.

I thought I was merrily skittering through the crowd, but it takes me only a few minutes to realize I’m seeing the same faces. The woman with bushy, curly red hair. The tall person in the navy-blue tunic. The man with painted designs on his bald head, a swirl of rainbow colors.

Every time I turn, I see them. Their faces are tilted to me like sunflowers soaking up the sun.

Watching.

Waiting.

These are Rian’s people.

And all around me I can see the net closing, tighter and tighter.

In a crowd this large, I shouldn’t recognize anyone, but—the middle-aged woman wearing holo glasses, the couple by the view ring, and even Phoebe, whose hat doesn’t block her identity.

I whirl around, spotting more faces. And when I turn again, Rian fills my vision.

The crowd is so loud, I can barely hear him, but I see him pointing up at the holo countdown.

All around, the people start chanting, caught up in the moment.

Ten! Nine!

I take in a breath.

Eight! Seven!

Let it out.

Six! Five!

I pull Rian’s face to mine. This kiss isn’t hungry or needy.

Four! Three!

It’s a goodbye.

15

Two!

I open my eyes just in time.

One!

Holo-casts shoot up, glittering in a dazzling display of light visible even under the shining Mediterranean sun, swirling in patterns—waves, I think, artistically rendered in a rainbow of colors.

The actual launch of the nanobots is almost anticlimactic. A poof of a cloud, a wisp of barely visible smoke from a short pipe extending from the communication tower atop Fetor’s skyscraper. The white puff evaporates in seconds, although the sparkling holo-casts burst out even brighter.

“Ada,” Rian says. His hand is around my wrist. I quickly scan the crowd—the net is tightening. I thought I was moving randomly throughout the square, but I’m actually off to the side, close to the Central Gardens gate.

“Look!” someone nearby shouts.

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