Amethyst Antares had no idea where in the worlds she was. Of course, this wasn’t at all surprising. In fact, it was the whole point of the thing.

Six minutes and thirteen seconds to go.

She ignored the sleek ladder built into the wall of the cabin she shared with three other contestants, and pushed her legs off the edge of her capsule bed, letting the ship’s gravity claim her. As expected, her flash new adaptiboots cushioned the impact as her feet hit the floor. The adrenaline rush dulled her growing panic. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Strong. Capable. Not terrified in the slightest.

Good.

She’d watched the Surface Trials play out on her homescreen for years. Planned how to get into them for almost as long.

Looking the part was key.

‘Ready, Ammy?’

She turned to see Navis grinning at her, his blue eyes bright in the shiplight, dark green uniform – identical to hers – almost shocking against the featureless pale walls. Nervous energy leaked out of him like a milkshake in zero-g.

He’d had to speak up to be heard over the holo, which Leona was watching while systematically chewing off fingernail after fingernail. Baran was sitting next to her, pretending Ammy didn’t exist with an intensity that deserved some sort of award.

Nothing had changed there. Nothing was ever going to change there. And Ammy was fine with pretending he didn’t exist right back at him, thank you very much.

‘Totally ready,’ she said to Nav, lying like a pro. ‘You?’

Nav gave a cocky thumbs up, though his arm shook. ‘And I’m loving this adaptigear uniform. This sort of lux will be our future, hey?’

He was from a poor planet too. Sure, no planet was ever as poor – or as reviled – as Ammy’s. But still . . . he was probably closest to understanding what these Trials meant to her. Get through the next three days and all this Starquest tech would be normal.

The holo was showing a program Ammy knew well – Surface Trials: The Buildup – where they went through all the best-ranked candidates and counted down to the start of the Trials. Usually Ammy loved watching everything related to the Surface Trials. But now?When she was about to be in them? In four minutes and thirty-eight seconds?

Nope. Not helping.

‘Well, these fiftieth Surface Trials are set to be the best ever! The thing everyone’s talking about this year is, of course, the inclusion of Rian Amalthea,’ said Jupiter, Ammy’s favourite Trials host. She was looking as out-there as she usually did, this time in a metallic pink jumpsuit with sparkling planets woven into her hair. ‘We all know he’s the closest thing we have to intergalactic royalty. Created by a power union of the oldest Dynasty with the strongest! And it doesn’t hurt that he looks like this …’

The screen filled with the picture of a stupidly good-looking dark-haired boy, vivid blue eyes contrasting against bronze skin and unfairly black eyelashes. Megawatt smile flashing perfectly white teeth. Leona sighed longingly. Nav huffed. Ammy scowled. There was that anger she’d been missing, back just in time to kick her fear in its non-adaptable spacepants.

‘That’s right, Jupe,’ said Jupiter’s co-host, Nindasu. ‘Rian Amalthea is the highest-ranked Dynasty member to undertake the Trials in years and the known universe is abuzz.’

‘Of course, Nin, we’re told Rian will be heavily disguised to avoid assessor bias. He could, quite literally, be any of the candidates.’

‘I can’t imagine the pressure he’s feeling right now, trying to get into his own academy. If he’s eliminated, the worlds are going to explode with—’

Nav swiped the holoscreen closed with one jerk of his hand. He looked around in the sudden silence. ‘Sorry. It was making me jittery.’

Baran frowned at his fingers.

‘I wonder where he is?’ said Leona, her eyes that kind of dreamy Ammy had learned to associate with any talk about the Amalthean heir. ‘Maybe he’ll be in one of our Surface Squads.’

‘I hope not,’ muttered Ammy.

‘You don’t mean that!’ said Leona. ‘You can’t hold his Dynasties against him, he’s too gorgeous.’

‘Sure I can. Half his fortune comes from his ancestors stomping on mine.’

‘But that wasn’t him.’

‘Fine. I’ll change my mind if he shares some of that money with Proxima.’ Ammy leaned over and put a hand on Leona’s, to stop her chewing every single nail off. ‘Hey, you might need those in a bit.’

Leona muttered her thanks and sat on her hands.

Nav bent his head towards Ammy. ‘I’m glad you’re taking my warning seriously,’ he whispered.

Ammy nodded at him. But really .. . not wanting the Amalthean heir on her squad had nothing to do with whatever conspiracy theory Nav had been trying to hint at yesterday. Rian Amalthea would be more likely to ignore Ammy than bother trying to harm her.

Nav’s legs jigged. ‘I want him in my squad.’

Ammy stared at him. ‘But I thought . . .?’

‘I hated him? I do. That’s the point. Anything could happen on the surface.’ He grinned rather wildly.

She looked away. Whatever this was, it wasn’t helping her stomach settle. ‘We won’t know even if he is in one of our squads.’

‘Nah, he’ll be obvious. Digimasks don’t disguise attitude.’

One minute and eight seconds to go.

‘It’s almost time,’ Ammy muttered.

She fought the unexpected urge to climb back into her capsule bed and hide. Absurd. Getting here, completing these Trials, getting into Starquest Academy – this was her dream. This way led to freedom and wealth and fame. None of which were possible back on Proxima Centauri.

Years of watching the Surface Trials had taught her they weren’t being filmed yet. This would be the last time for days. She closed her eyes, focused on what she had to do: make it through these Trials. She imagined stepping over the line and seeing Rian Amalthea’s pretty face all shocked because a Proxy had made it through. Even better, she imagined getting to the end and finding out Rian Amalthea had been eliminated. On day one.

There was a loud click. Startling in the otherwise silent dorm. Their door swung open. Ammy’s nerves returned.

She knew this moment. Tiny green lights had appeared on the uniform collars of her dormmates; their suitcams had started recording. And that meant all the cameras in the corridors, the landers and – of course – on the surface would have activated as well. People in homes around the galaxies would be leaning forward in anticipation of their first live views of the candidates and the planet they’d spend the next three days on. Jupe and Nin would be commentating their brightly coloured hearts out on screens everywhere.

Ammy made herself walk forward. Her legs felt wobbly. Pace uneven. Would that be obvious to the assessors? She lengthened her stride, set her face into serious mode, and walked through to the uncertain future that open door signified.

She walked like she was ready for this. Made for this. Like she was looking forward to being drafted into a Surface Squad with total strangers and dropped in the middle of who knew what.

It was finally beginning.

She felt like throwing up…