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She sniffed, like my curiosity offended her. But before she could explain, Saga's voice echoed down the hall. "Because I never trusted the world wide web. Too many spiders."
My instinct was to declare the old man insane. But I knew all too well how easily the Troika had cut people off from each other because they'd sacrificed their freedoms to the gods of convenience.
Dare nudged me toward the doorway that Saga's voice had come from. I stumbled across the portal and gasped. I thought the hallway had a lot of books, but the--well 'room' was too pitiful a word--I'd just entered had more books than I ever imagined existed. The room was really a wide, round circle that rose dozens of feet in the air. Like a silo of books. Tall, rickety ladders leaned against the towering shelves and walkways were built at intervals up the walls. In the center of the room, a large desk stood atop a platform reached by a narrow bridge. Other bridges wagon-wheeled out at intervals to the shelves. The tunnel of books continued far below, as well, and those appeared to be accessed by ladders leading down from the bridges.
"Tell me, Carmina, can you read?"
I considered telling him to call me Six, but the twinkle in his eye told me he'd used my real name on purpose. "Of course." It wouldn't do for the Troika's propaganda doll to be ignorant.
"What is your favorite book?"
When a man who owns more books than the number of humans left on the planet asks you your favorite book it's not a casual question. This was the beginning of the tests. I raised my chin and went with the truth. "I've never read a printed book, and the majority of story-discs I was allowed to read were written by vampires loyal to the Troika."
"No doubt they were heroic tales about brave vampires who defeated hordes of dirty humans."
My lips twitched. "You've read Blood Bond, then?"
"Among others." He clicked his tongue. "Pedestrian writing, at best. At worst, they're terrifying windows into the psyche of our masters."
"What's your favorite book?" I asked him. Not that I knew the titles of many human novels, but I figured a man like Saga would jump at the chance to talk about his favorite stories. Maybe he'd appreciate it so much he'd go lighter on me in the trials.
"Fahrenheit 451," he said immediately. "You've heard of it."
I nodded. "Bradbury."
His eyes flared. "I'm impressed."
"Don't be. The only reason I know of it was one of my teachers preached it as the perfect example of how humans were begging to be dominated by a superior species."
"Oh." Saga's face fell. So did my hopes of passing his tests.
Behind me Rabbit cleared his throat. "My favorite is Watership Down."
I frowned at him. "You can read?"
"Of course." Rabbit puffed up his chest. "I ain't a dumbass."
I smiled at the kid in apology. "What's that one about?" I wanted to keep the kid talking in hopes it would help Saga forget I'd insulted his favorite book.
"Watership Down is about a group of heroic rabbits who have to leave their warren in order to find a new home."
"That's why he's called Rabbit," Dare offered with an indulgent smile at the kid.
I nodded politely, wondering how anyone could sound so loyal to a silly story about rabbits. "That's nice," I said when they all looked at me expectantly.
Saga's eyes narrowed. "What do you remember of your mother?"
The question was so sudden, so unexpected that hearing it felt like a physical blow. A sucker punch. Surely he knew. "That she was the leader of the human resistance at the Battle of Manhattan."
He pursed his lips and ran a hand down his beard. "Do you believe this information to be true?"
I raised my chin. "Doesn't matter what I believe. I know it to be true because I remember her."
"Are you certain?"
"Of course."
He smiled sadly, like one might at a misguided child. "Are you aware that the Troika has been doing experiments on humans for years in the work camps?"
