Read Online Dissonance by Erica O’Rourke - Free Book Online Page B

single session of Walker training than in an entire month of regular high school.
    To Originals, the Consort’s headquarters looked like any other office building in Chicago’s Loop. Even the name on the front door blended in: Consort Change Management. Nobody could tell you exactly what they did, but they’d been a quiet,unassuming presence in the city for as long as anyone could remember. My parents drew a paycheck from CCM; they filed their taxes every year, they had health insurance and pension plans. CCM had offices around the globe, entire communities of Walkers hiding in plain sight. The operation was funded by investments, using information gleaned in Echoes. They took insider trading to a whole new level.
    We followed our usual path from Union Station, taking Adams across the river, forcing myself not to look at the gray-green water below, waiting impatiently for the light across Wacker.
    â€œEveryone’s going to know,” I said, squeezing the straps of my backpack. “They’re probably talking about me right now.”
    The light changed and Eliot hustled me across the intersection, dodging the commuters streaming past us. “Quit dragging your feet. You love it when people talk about you.”
    â€œSure, when they’re saying how kick-ass I am. This is not one of those times.”
    â€œThey probably won’t even know.”
    I snorted. “They’ll be thrilled. And it’s going to napalm my class rank.”
    Unlike Washington High, where my GPA consistently landed in the toilet, Walker training didn’t give grades. Instead they relied on rankings, and mine was disappointingly average.
    Ranking was based partly on fieldwork, which I dominated, and partly on classroom assignments, which I did not. Walking was easy for me. Navigating branches, moving through pivots,tracking signals . . . I moved as swift and sure as an arrow.
    Classwork was another story. Nobody gave points for intuition or improvisation, only the meticulous repetition of Consort protocol. Eliot tried to help, but his patient explanations only underscored how differently my mind worked. In the Consort’s eyes, “different” was the opposite of “better.”
    My ranking, combined with our final exam, determined where I’d be assigned during my apprenticeship. We could request a position, but the final say, as always, belonged to the Consort. Never before had I realized how much of my future lay in the hands of other people, and the knowledge made me want to kick something. Hard.
    We stopped outside the glass doors of CCM. Inside was a nondescript lobby—marble floors, security desk, a bank of elevators, and a few low couches and tables. Our classmates were gathered in the corner, everyone leaning in, still wearing their coats and backpacks.
    â€œListen,” Eliot said, eyeing the twin guards at the security desk. “When you see the Consort . . . act contrite. Like you regret what you did.”
    â€œI do, ” I said, remembering the twist in my gut as the Echo unraveled. “It’s not an act.”
    â€œGood,” Eliot said. “Don’t blame Addie, either. They think she’s great, so it’s logical they’d take her side.”
    â€œThat’s nothing new,” I said.
    He took my hand. “We don’t want to be late.”
    I nodded, and he held open the door.
    My skin tingled every time I crossed the threshold of this place. There’s power in secrets, in knowledge hidden away. The deeper they’re hidden, the greater the tension shimmering through the air. This building held secrets Originals couldn’t dream of, and no matter how many Monet reproductions they hung on the walls or how tasteful the jazz they piped in, the hum of power couldn’t be entirely muted.
    This time when I walked in, dread curled through me, bitterly cold.
    â€œDel!” Callie Moreno called from the corner. The