Inheritance (40 page)

Chloe squealed. “It’s not a chick flick! There are werewolves! And fighting!”

Her point was lost when the cheerleader-werewolf-hunter kissed the pack leader. “See?” David said, pointing with his spoon.

Amber laughed. Chloe gave him a dirty look. “Fine, next time you pick.”

“Good,” he said.

Reese reached out and touched his elbow.
Thank you.

The tension inside him was still there, but it had lessened.
You owe me
, he told her.

For what?

For making me watch this movie.

She smiled.

Sunday dragged by, as if every minute before the summit was weighted. Reese felt as though she was going crazy with impatience.

After breakfast, she called Julian to tell him the whole story as she had promised she would. He was so shocked that he didn’t speak for what seemed like an entire minute. Then he asked her to say it all again so he could record it. When they finished talking, Reese went to look for David, only to run into him leaving the ship with her dad. They were both dressed to work out, and she asked in surprise, “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re going for a run,” her dad answered. “You want to come?”

“Uh, no. Have fun.” She watched them leave together, feeling weird about the whole thing.

It’s just running
, David assured her as he stepped into the elevator.

She retreated to her room and stared at the screens depicting the field outside. She wanted to know what her dad was saying to David. She wondered what Amber was doing. She worried about whether Julian was going to be assaulted by CASS goons, and
she texted him to find out if he was all right. The fourth time she texted him he replied:
Dude I’ll call you if I’m abducted.

Lunch brought a brief moment of excitement when Dr. Brand joined them, but when Reese asked whether Akiya Deyir had made any decisions, Dr. Brand only said, “He’s still thinking about it.”

All afternoon Reese pretended to do her homework, while David and Chloe sprawled nearby in the heap of cushions that had been left in the dining hall after their movie night. Finally, an hour before dinner, Nura Halba asked them to leave the room while they prepared for the meal. “Should we get dressed up?” Chloe asked excitedly.

“Only if you wish to,” Halba said. “It’s not formal.”

Reese stood in front of her narrow closet for half an hour, trying to decide if she should wear the single skirt suit she had brought to wear to the United Nations. At the last minute she only changed her shirt, swapping her old blue tee for the new one that Diana Warner had helped pick out at Nordstrom. She heard her mom knocking on the door and opened it to find everyone already assembled in the corridor: David, dressed in an untucked black oxford shirt and jeans; her parents, looking disturbingly like a couple; David’s parents waiting with Chloe, who had put on a pink skirt and white blouse.

“Okay,” Reese’s mom said with a nervous smile. “Let’s go.”

In the dining hall, every Imrian on the ship was waiting. Reese was startled when the door slid open and she saw all two dozen of them standing there, dressed in strange clothing that Reese knew had not originated on Earth. For the first time, they
weren’t wearing their intelligible-to-humanity outfits, and Reese now understood why they had done so in the first place. Some were dressed as colorfully as Akiya Deyir had been the day before in his violet coat; others wore garments that seemed made out of metal mesh or other synthetic fabrics that rippled like feathers when they moved. Only Amber and Dr. Brand were dressed like humans, and in comparison to the other Imria, they almost looked plain.

The meal began with small dishes of pickled berries that resembled cherries but tasted like olives. “We brought these from Kurra,” Nura Halba explained. He was seated with Reese and the other humans, and Reese wondered if he was growing tired of acting as their interpreter. “They’re traditionally offered at the beginning of every ceremonial meal. They’re called
buru
.”

The
buru
were followed by sliced cabbage and carrots served in a cold, tangy broth. After that, platters of grilled squid were brought out, speckled with remnants of charred chilies. Whole sea bass were served too, and Halba filleted them at their table, removing the heads and stripping away the delicate bones before plating portions with a bit of bright green, garlicky sauce on the side. The final course was a sweet, many-layered pastry that reminded Reese of baklava, except this was filled with something that tasted like red bean paste.

At the end of the meal, Akiya Deyir stood while servers walked around the dining hall, placing small glass cups shaped like eggs before each person and filling them from black pitchers. Reese sniffed hers; it smelled like wine. Halba said, “It’s called
kurun
. It’s drunk at the end of the meal as a toast.”

“Tonight we would like to welcome our guests to our home,
temporary though it may be,” Deyir said. He was wearing a crimson tunic that flowed into long tails like his jacket, with trousers the color of steel. The sleeves of his tunic extended over his hands like petals, and he wore a ring that resembled a vine on his left hand. “
Nu nig tukum’ta
. It is no coincidence you are here; we are glad of your company.” He raised his small glass of
kurun
and said, “Welcome.
Sude silim
. A blessing and a greeting.” All the Imria stood, and Reese scrambled to stand with them. They said in unison, “
Sude silim
,” and then sipped from their cups.

Reese followed their example, lifting her glass to her lips. The
kurun
was sour and lukewarm, and not anything she would ever want to drink on a regular basis, but as it left an unexpectedly hot trail down her throat, she felt as if it had marked her internally. She was no longer entirely human, and the taste of it was like fire in her stomach.

Liftoff was scheduled for midnight. “We don’t want to
draw too much attention to ourselves,” Nura Halba had said at dinner, but Reese suspected the state of California had asked them to travel at night in order to prevent a massive crowd from gathering to watch the launch.

The ship would fly at a much higher altitude than commercial airplanes, but it would not leave Earth’s orbit. The entire trip would last about two and a half hours, and when they arrived in New York they would take up a position over New York Harbor, where they would remain for the duration of the weeklong General Debate. Their lander would ferry them to and from the United Nations headquarters on the East Side.

The Imria did not linger in the dining hall for long after
dinner. Reese imagined they still had plenty of business to attend to before morning. Amber was the only Imrian who stayed behind.

Reese knew it wouldn’t be like a rocket ship taking off from a launchpad, but she had thought it would be a bigger deal than it turned out to be. The only audible indication that the ship was lifting off was a low rumble. Amber adjusted the lights and the screens so they could see the night outside. The ship seemed to levitate off the ground, silent and steady as a well-oiled elevator. As the island fell away beneath them, Reese saw the lights of San Francisco across the black swath of the bay, and then the lights vanished as the ship was engulfed in a cloud bank.

Reese glanced at her watch. It was just after midnight. In nine hours, Akiya Deyir was scheduled to speak at the United Nations. She hoped he would be telling the truth.

Reese slept fitfully after takeoff, waking as dawn broke through the screens in her room to reveal New York Harbor below the ship. She scrambled toward the screens as if they were real windows, staring down at the water and the Statue of Liberty and the toothy skyline of Manhattan. Helicopters were circling the ship, and while some of them bore news channel logos, others were sleek and black, and she knew they were from the military.

She dressed in her debate suit: knee-length navy blue skirt, white blouse, and jacket. It only survived midway through breakfast, because she spilled strawberry jam all over the skirt at the sight of David entering the dining hall in his suit and tie. She hadn’t seen him so dressed up since the national tournament in
June, and his appearance made her feel like she was jolting backward through time. Unfortunately, her skirt was ruined, and she had to go back up to her room and put on a pair of black pants. She hoped nobody would notice that the color didn’t match her jacket.

All of the Imria going to the UN had put on their made-on-Earth clothes. Akiya Deyir was wearing a tailored black suit with a white silk handkerchief peeking from the breast pocket, making him look more like a film star than ever. Amber wore a black cap-sleeved dress with a fitted skirt and a narrow, patent-leather belt that matched her shoes. Reese recognized the shoes from the day of the press conference.

The Imria had received authorization for only one parent each to accompany Reese and David to the UN, and Reese’s mom and David’s dad were chosen to do the honors. They followed Nura Halba into the cargo bay on the first level, where two landers were parked. He directed them to climb into the larger one. Reese buckled herself in and held her breath as the ship opened in midair and the lander hovered up, rocking slightly before it accelerated out of the craft. She saw the steely color of the water below and the blue sky all around them, and she felt as if she were living in the future. Then the military helicopters fell in on both sides of the lander, and she was sucked right back into the present.

Reese had never seen so much security in her life. Police officers and squad cars lined the East Side of New York as the lander descended into the barricaded plaza in front of the United
Nations. As they exited the lander, they were greeted by officials in suits and eyed by soldiers carrying machine guns. They were given badges on lanyards with their photos already laminated onto them, then escorted through a security tent where they had to walk through body scanning machines and be patted down for weapons.

The interior of the United Nations building looked like it had come straight out of the 1950s. In the multistory lobby, stacks of curved balconies overlooked a long, switchback staircase. As they were ushered past the stairs toward a bank of elevators, Reese glimpsed the press waiting behind ropes on the other side of the lobby, cameras flashing. She had put up her mental defenses as soon as she had stepped off the lander, but some of the curiosity still leaked through.

“After you, miss,” said one of their escorts, gesturing toward the elevator.

She turned away from the photographers and stepped in. The elevator operator held the doors until they had all crammed inside, and then he pressed the button to take them upstairs.