The 716, p.1
The 716, page 1
Book 1 in The 716 series
First edition 2022
Copyright © 2022 by S.J. Pratt
Christchurch, New Zealand
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and robots are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people is coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of quotations in book reviews or non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
ISBN Paperback: 978-0-473-60983-2
ISBN Epub: 978-0-473-60984-9
ISBN Kindle: 978-0-473-60985-6
Cover Design by Jennifer Rackham
Editing and Proofreading by Bellbird Words
Final proofread by Tenaya MKD
Published by S.J. Pratt
For more information, please visit www.sjpratt.com
To Chew, the first person to read my first novel,
David and Emma, who read every draft of this one,
and my family, without whom I would not be a writer.
This book is also dedicated to all the brave people who fought and fight for equal and equitable rights.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
Thank you for reading The 716
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Keep Discovering
CHAPTER 1
The Renasci English Dictionary defined a twerd as: “A man or boy of an unfortunately gangly nature, often scrawny and unattractive. Percentage of muscle mass is typically below 35%.”
Andy was a twerd. He doubted whether the bullies down the road had calculated his muscle mass, but that didn’t stop their creative uses of the insult.
Andy was also a boy of questions. He questioned everything, even when it was questionable to do so. It infuriated his mother, who’d often reply, “Boys shouldn’t ask so many questions. You would do well to disavow the unsociable habit.” Andy once made the mistake of asking why she spoke as if she were rich and important when she actually worked at a stationery store.
Andy never grew out of being a twerd—in fact, he grew more into one—and he never learned when to keep his questions to himself. The problem was that he had so many questions: Is it possible to harness energy from a black hole? What would it be like to live on the moon? How much of human history could we find at the bottom of the ocean? What makes glass transparent? He knew these were questions that made him seem odd to other people, but something inside him dreamed of discovery, and he couldn’t let it lie.
On his eighteenth birthday, Andy awoke with a wonderful rhetorical question: How comfortable are these blankets? Unfortunately, this was abruptly replaced with a more crucial question: What time is it? His clock (a harsh but ultimately useful present from his sister), answered this by yelling, “IT IS 6.32 AM. YOUR SHIFT STARTS IN 28 MINUTES, YOU MORON!” Andy threw a pillow at his rude clock, then jumped out of bed and into his waiter’s uniform.
Andy worked for The Boys Club, an event staffing agency. Grabbing his favorite manatee-themed beanie in case it was cold out, Andy ran downstairs, stopping to smile at the gifts on the kitchen bench. He shoved them into his handbag and poured a coffee to go, raced across the lawn, jumped over one of Mr Mogridge’s cats, and ran to the nearest PART station. His handbag thumped rhythmically against his leg, as if discouraging such disorganization in the future. The PART’s advertising jingle rang in his head (Public Aeronautic Rapid Trains: Travel with Trust, do-do-do-dooo!). Jogging up the stairs two at a time, Andy squeezed into the shrinking entrance of the 6.45 am train.
The PART’s TakeOff engine kicked in, sending out jolts of energy as the train lifted into the sky. The compartment buzzed with debates, ranging in quality from Mr. Mogridge’s new tabby cat to whether Jason Jones looked hotter in a tight shirt or shirtless.
After scanning his Identifeye and being charged an exorbitant public transport fee, Andy maneuvered between sweaty school kids and ambitious interns to reach a seat at the back. Pulling presents from his handbag, he unwrapped them in turn. The first was a handmade, robust, padded tube. The card attached read: To tuck into your boot for pain-free screwdriver storage. With love to my big bro. Lily.
The second was from his parents. Andy unfurled a previously-owned Skript and tapped the screen. From Scrawny to Sexy in Under Twelve Weeks. It had made the Renasci Bestseller List and was life-changing, apparently.
The last present was another Skript, this one brand new: Fundamentals of Anti-Gravitational Mechanics. Aunt Kaylee always got him a TextSkript for his birthday and, as usual, this one was perfect. Andy wanted to flick through and devour every word, but memories of travel sickness warned him against it. So he sat back, sipped lukewarm coffee, and looked out the unclean windows as the great nation of Meliora flowed past him.
The farmlands, factories, and food trucks of his city, Uruck, gave way to the markets and suburbia of Lower Mistratum, a calm and collected city where one found joy in the holding of a partner’s hand and the rediscovery of a favorite shirt behind the washing machine. The PART slowed and lowered to a platform, allowing passengers to exit and office workers to board at the first stop.
After a few stops in Lower Mistratum, the PART sped to Upper Mistratum, where skyscrapers and private pods touted progress and modern technology. Women in crisp suits chatted as they entered banks, museums, and corporations. Flowers grew between buildings, bringing life to an otherwise metallic landscape.
A few minutes after they left the last stop in Upper Mistratum, Renasci burst into view. Outrageous mansions stood on perfect boulevards, wide avenues touted shops exuding allure and fine goods, and gardens larger than Andy’s neighborhood hosted rare trees and hexagonal spa pools. “Renasci is a haven of opportunity,” Andy’s mother had once said, her eyes filled with impossible dreams. But Andy saw a city of nepotism and overpriced wine, where inhabitants flaunted their charitable natures, taking any opportunity to mention their rise from humble beginnings.
In the center of Meliora stood the Tower of Testing. A masterpiece of architecture, it pierced the sky, forest-green panes of structural glass flowing up like a stream that defied gravity. Hundreds of girls and their families stood outside it.
Andy sighed. Today was Testing Day. If he’d been a girl, today would have been his Testing Day. Instead, he was off to serve mimosas to rich women who had already had three too many at a sixtieth birthday breakfast. Leaning his head on the glass, Andy wondered what it would be like to walk into that Tower, to take the REAL Test and find out what he was made of—
Whoosh!
A private pod flew past the discolored windows. Andy stood up and peered out. Was that a Cavorite4000?
Everyone in the PART gasped as an exceptionally pink pod took off into the clouds. It soared in a spiral of aeronautic audacity, reminding the plebeians below of the unambiguous link between money and fun before sailing across the top of the PART and slowing down to land.
The Cavorite4000 was the private pod, in Andy’s opinion. The only four-seater that could take off two seconds after start-up. Naught to 100km/h in 3.29 seconds. It hadn’t even officially hit the market yet. What Andy would do to get his hands on one, to pull apart his engine, to see what made him tick! There was a moment of ooos and ahhhs as the pod landed, leaving Andy with a huge smile and a story to tell.
Unfortunately, the story didn’t stop there. While the pod glided to a smooth landing in a designated parking area outside the Tower, the PART stopped abruptly with such force that Andy was squashed between a pole and several interns, spilling his coffee on his shirt.
Great, Andy thought.
As parents escorted their dau
“I am standing outside the Tower of Testing as hundreds of young women gather to take the most important test of their lives.” The voice of famous journalist Vicky Vermintrude sounded throughout the PART. “In case you’ve been living under a piece of steel, today is Testing Day. The day thousands of 18-year-old women take the Reasoning, Empathy, Aptitude, and Leadership Test. The test that cannot be studied for, cannot be cheated on, and whose results cannot be wrong. Today, the next generation will discover what they’re made of and what their futures could look like. What’s that? Yes, I can confirm that Lim Olivia has arrived!”
Those still inside the PART stuck their sweaty foreheads to the glass like children at the zoo to get a glimpse of the woman stepping out of the Cavorite4000.
“She’s about to do it!” a girl yelled. “Lim Olivia is about to take the REAL Test!”
Lim Olivia: Meliora’s darling. She was (according to Lily, Elite magazine, and basically everyone Andy had ever met) the most intelligent, beautiful, popular, daring, brave, dreamy woman in the nation. She was everything the future leader of Meliora should be, and she’d make a fine leader when she took over from her mother one day. Apparently, Olivia had built a laser cutter from scratch, and she once hacked into her mother’s personal library, skimming several restricted novels before being caught. Even Andy had to admit he was impressed. Not impressed enough to warrant the flurry of adoration that began as Olivia walked through the crowd but—hold on, was the conductor getting out of the PART?
Andy was already late for work. What made him very late was when almost everyone in the PART filed onto the street and tried to squeeze their way towards Lim Olivia. Eventually, a group of teens made it to the front of the crowd and squealed when she agreed to a selfie with them. A fully grown man fainted when she signed his copy of Elite magazine. It seemed to take forever for everyone to return.
But what made Andy extremely late was the PART conductor’s insistence that everyone should grab some donuts to celebrate the special occasion. “What’s another fifteen minutes, after all?”
It was hell, that’s what it was.
With his fingers crossed that he wouldn’t be fired, Andy trudged across the street to an overwhelmed donut stand. He stood in the sun with a handful of donuts and a refilled coffee, wondering…
What if he took the REAL Test?
He swallowed, shifted. It was not a question he should ask. But if he were to ask it, very quickly and quietly, could he do it? Would he walk in a boy and come out a man, or would he, as everyone said boys would, crumble under the pressure?
What if he wasn’t like other boys? What if he could score well enough to get into university? He’d sit in those elegant engineering lecture halls and learn about flight mechanics, thermodynamics, and failure analysis. He wouldn’t have to be a waiter anymore. He’d be hired as an engineer to work alongside some of the greatest minds to—
“Can you pull your socks up, please?”
A tall woman in a neglected dress stared at his legs, her lips forming a thin line of disapproval.
“I’m sorry?”
“You should be,” the woman replied, shaking her head as if his audacity was unbelievable. “You wouldn’t want your legs to distract the ladies, would you? And you should smile, you’d almost look handsome if you smiled.”
Andy clenched his jaw. He should remain calm, agree with her, do as he was told. He should be mindful of how he would come across when he replied; he didn’t want to seem aggressive or argumentative. But something about the situation grated him. This woman, who didn’t know him or introduce herself, proudly displaying her own bare legs, was telling him what to do with his body.
“I doubt my legs have ever distracted anyone, especially given Lim Olivia has done such a thorough job of that already. Besides, if legs are so distracting, why do businesses insist on waiter uniforms with shorts?” Andy asked, stuffing a donut unceremoniously in his mouth.
The woman snorted and muttered something about how boys were raised with such horrid manners these days. She turned and started flirting with a swimming instructor, leaving Andy to his donuts, coffee, and questions.
How would the REAL Test work? What kind of questions did they ask? No one knew the answers to those questions as everyone forgot their REAL Test. But there was something magical about the idea of sitting the test, even if Andy subsequently forgot its contents.
What would university be like? Would Professor Pane’s teaching style be as captivating as her TextSkripts? What would it be like to graduate and work as an engineer?
That was his dream, sparked by the simple holding of a screwdriver at four years old. Nestled in the marrow of every bone, it was always on the edge of his thoughts, waiting for any opportunity to bloom.
At 7.35 am, the conductor thought it necessary to meander back to the train. Several minutes later, Andy arrived at the rooftop restaurant he was to work at today and thanked Goddess his manager was also running late. Securing his apron, Andy glanced outside towards the Tower of Testing and started work with one last agonizing question: Why couldn’t he have an achievable dream?
CHAPTER 2
Lim Olivia was destined for greatness. By the age of eighteen, she had broken the sound barrier in a racing pod she’d helped build, won every computer science prize the Renasci School for Gifted Girls offered, and had founded a non-profit, Visions of a Better Future, which provided free eyewear to girls at Mistratum and Uruckian schools. As the Eldest Daughter (and the only daughter) of Our Mother Lim Daiyu, Olivia would rule Meliora one day. For now, she would settle for achieving all her goals and setting fashion trends every time she left the house.
Olivia stepped out the front door of her family’s Renasci mansion and accepted a warm cup of coffee from Hargreaves.
A proper woman from a notable Upper Mistratum family, Hargreaves had served the Lim family for years, caring for Olivia since she was six. What Hargreaves lacked in height she made up for in her sturdy stature. Her eyebrows were thick with secrets she’d never tell. And she could make one heck of a coffee.
“Renasci Roast espresso, Plutonium Strength,” Hargreaves said. “Had to fight off the Barnett’s chef for the last bag of beans.”
Olivia took a sip. “Oh, Hargreaves, you’re the best.”
Sunlight blessed the vast gardens of Lim Manor, highlighting the tennis courts and rows of cherry trees that led down the hill to the street. Birds chirped and leaves fluttered in the warm breeze. It was the perfect morning for the biggest day of Olivia’s life.
Olivia’s puppy—a small pug with a big attitude—bounded down the stairs, through the open door, and straight into Olivia’s legs, cascading coffee in several directions. Satisfied that her outfit was unscathed, Olivia bent down to pat Nugget as he wrote Hi on her legs in saliva.
“Shall I get another coffee delivered to the Tower?”
“Don’t worry, Hargreaves,” Olivia replied, passing the cup back to Hargreaves. “A quick inside loop wakes me up just as well as coffee.”
“You’ll be pleased when you find your transportation for today, then.”
With a bounce in her step, Olivia followed Hargreaves to the front gates where she saw two things that made her smile grow.
“Will!” Olivia ran to her brother and wrapped her arms around him. He lifted her into the air and spun her.
“Happy testing day, little sis,” he said. His black hair was pulled back into a traditional gentleman’s low ponytail, and he wore a new maroon suit that brought out the color in his eyes.
Will motioned to the gigantic teardrop-shaped present beside him. Olivia ripped off wrapping paper to reveal a polished windshield, blush-pink paint and … she covered her open mouth with both hands. “A Cavorite4000?”
Thanks to talent, money, and Hargreaves, Olivia never wanted for anything. Except, as she had pointed out to Will several times, this private pod. Every pilot was itching to get their hands on it; it hadn’t even hit the market yet.
She pulled Will in for another hug.
“You’re going to dislocate a disc,” he said, though he hugged her back with just as much fervor.
Hargreaves stood near the gates, hands folded in front of her, not a crease on her uniform. But a small smile creased her face.
