Chapter One: Day 992 on the Bench

Lin held the football tighter. “Where on the depth chart?” “Fourth receiver. Don’t misunderstand. You’re not starting.” “Understood.” Grant left, but Mara remained. She checked the passing machine’s counter. “Eighty-seven attempts. Eighty-seven catches. Your report says you catch seventy-one percent of random high-speed balls.” “The report is a month old.” “A month doesn’t improve human reaction time that much.” Her eyes narrowed. “Before that dive, you moved as if you knew where the ball would go.” Lin had felt it too. Before the machine rotated, the ball’s path had appeared in his mind—a pale red arc, as brief as an afterimage. He glanced down. A line of translucent text floated over his palm.