It struck her now that she lived here too.
“I do,” he said. “My mom and I moved here after … well, after everything.”
His words took her back to Hiro’s, just days after she’d said goodbye to Ross, when the news had broadcasted images of Pacifica as it had appeared in the relocation ads, side by side with what looked like satellite pictures of her island. She’d recognized the gomi fields, and the port, and yet couldn’t even differentiate between the trash and the houses that lined the streets of Careytown.
Pacifica: NOT REAL, the headlines had read. But it had been real. It had been home.
“It was meant with the purest intent,” President Torres had said in a press conference. He’d looked like he’d spent the last month living in a holding cell at the bottom of a ship, so much worse off than when she’d seen him at the harbor. “I am deeply shocked and saddened by the reality of this matter. I can only say that I am grateful for our vice president, Noah Baker, and his diligent efforts to uncover the truth before it was too late.”
Ross had stood behind him, nearly out of the picture. His suit was clean and pressed, his hair trimmed. But the sun had not faded from his skin, nor had the depth from his eyes, and that made her proud even while she’d hurt for him.
The elder Torres had apologized for the work of Roan Teller, someone he had placed in charge of the government’s safety division. He declined to comment more on the Pacifica scandal, but assured that reparations would be made to those who had suffered, including the descendants of the Original 86. Then he resigned, and agreed to a public inquiry on his role in the matter—one that was still going on, the last she’d heard.
That night, the riots were replaced by a candlelight vigil. It was the first night no one was hurt or arrested. She’d gone to the roof of Hiro’s building and stayed there until dawn, staring at the haze that blocked the cliffline, wishing Ross knew she was still with him even if they weren’t in the same place.
The next morning Noah Baker had been sworn into office, and his first course of action was to sign a peace treaty with the SAF. They would begin to trade soon, fuel for food, and though this was met with resistance from those above the cliffline, she believed him when he said that in this desperate time, they had no choice but to think on a global scale.
“Adam and I are working with a refugee program,” Ross said. “Interning, anyway. He’s in the Noram branch, I’m here.” He looked like he wanted to tell her more about it, but was uncertain. “I have a boat. There’s a pier on the south side of the harbor where I keep it docked. It’s not much, but if you ever want to go out on it…” He was talking fast. “I don’t even know how long you’re in town.”
“You have a boat?”
He smirked at the ground. “That’s right.”
“What kind? I bet it’s a yacht, isn’t it. Something with big plush seats and a padded wheel.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I built it myself with scraps from the marina. It barely floats.” He laughed.
She stood on her tiptoes, grabbed his collar, and pulled him down to her. She hadn’t done anything so reckless or wild in a long time, but when his lips crushed against hers, she didn’t think about whether it was the wrong thing to do. She thought of the salt in the breeze, and the wind in their hair, and his gentle mouth, curling into a smile.
His hands came around her waist, and pulled her close, and she closed her eyes, feeling strong and important. The months between them melted away, and, with them, the burden that he was the son of the president, and she was a lowly pirate.
They were not so different now. Maybe they never had been.
Pulling back, she braced herself against his chest.
“I demand to see your barely floating ship,” she said, but before he could answer, she kissed him again, and again, and one more time, just because she could.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’M NOT going to lie, this was a difficult story. From the moment it was conceived, I knew it would hit close to home, and it did, every step of the way. From incorporating my great-grandmother’s internment in WWII, to the loss of my grandma during revisions, I was constantly torn between inspiration and loss, imagination and grief. I wanted to write the kind of story that empowered, that helped me process all the things we face each day while honoring my history, and as I learned, that’s an incredibly challenging task. I hope I have served my family and my characters well.
Because this was such a big book in many ways, I have many people to thank. First, my family, who shared this great big history with me, and encouraged me to sort through it in my own way. My mom, who taught me from a young age what it means to be a Japanese-American woman, and my dad, who taught me to be brave like Ross and Marin. My great-grandmother, who lived through things I will never fully understand, and my grandma, who was kind and wonderful, and who I miss very much.
A very special thank-you to Rahul Madhusudanan with Trash-Free Waters at the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency for his thoughtful discussions about the future of our world, the state of the ocean, and the melting of the polar ice caps. Thank you also to Elizabeth and Steve for every article you sent on the Pacific Gyre, and the trash accumulation there, and for basically just being the best family ever.
Thank you to Luke Murdock for your help with the Spanish in this book, and to Nobuko and Krutula for double-checking my Japanese. I am grateful for your time and responses!
I owe a great debt of gratitude to Carrie Greene and Terry Holcombe of Tampa, Florida, for giving me a crash course on sailing—it is SO much harder than I could have imagined! Thank you for teaching me the language, letting me take a zillion pictures, and putting up with my questions about pirates and what exactly has to happen for a boat to capsize. (I see now how these things are bad luck to bring up while on an actual sailing vessel.)
Thank you, as always, to my agent, Joanna, for pushing through with me on this one (you are the best), and my editor, Melissa Frain, who, as always, makes me a better, more thoughtful writer. To Amy Stapp, who is the best editorial assistant ever; Alexis Saarela and Wiley Saichek, who are publicists of the century; Seth Lerner, who always gives me the best covers; Chris Gibbs—my stories are always honored to host your artwork; and of course, Kathleen Doherty, the publisher at Tor, who makes it possible for me to do the things I love.
Thank you to Katie McGarry, who always reads my work early and knows just what to say to get me back on track when I’m stuck, and Sara Raasch, who helped me plot myself back from the gates of Mordor. To Mindee Arnett and Kendare Blake, who are the best cheerleaders; Rachel Strolle for knowing everything YA; Caitlin Fletcher and Cori Smith, who are amazing booksellers; and Meg, Kass, Jaime, and Erin, who I now carry around in my head, hoping they giggle (and okay, cry sometimes, too) at the words I put down.
A special thank-you to the aforementioned Erin Arkin, as well as Emily Roycroft-Stone and Amber Hendricks, who have supported my books for a long time, and who were particularly excellent in helping me spread the word about Metaltown. You guys. I tell ya. You’re the best.
And finally, thank you to my boys. Jason and Ren, you make this world better, and not just for me. I love you.
TOR BOOKS BY
KRISTEN SIMMONS
Article 5
Breaking Point
Three
The Glass Arrow
Metaltown
Pacifica
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KRISTEN SIMMONS is the author of the Article 5 series, The Glass Arrow, and Metaltown. She has worked with survivors of abuse and trauma as a mental health therapist, taught Jazzercise in five states, and is forever in search of the next best cupcake. Currently she lives in Cincinnati, Ohio, with her husband, where she spends her days supporting the caffeine industry and chasing her delightfully rambunctious son. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Author’s Note
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 35
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Tor Books by Kristen Simmons
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
PACIFICA
Copyright © 2018 by Kristen Simmons
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Christopher Gibbs
A Tor Teen Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-3663-7 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-2880-3 (ebook)
eISBN 9780765328803
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First Edition: March 2018