“This is the cockpit,” he says. “You’ve got your guidance system, airlock seal, altitude gauge, and pressure gauge.” He points under the dashboard panel at a set of pedals. “Weapon triggers. For this exercise, they are inactive.”

He backs away from the Molter and motions at the other crafts in the dock.

“Hop inside, one person per Molter. Listen to your instructors and you’ll be fine.”

Glacia pushes forward and hoists herself into the Molter, so I take the first one in line. A cool blue light glows on the chair arms when I sit down, and the hatch hisses as the cockpit pressurizes. I strap on a pair of tendril gloves and sync them to the Molter. A guidance system appears on the glass panel. Like I did during yesterday’s simulation, I set my thumb and two fingers on the track pad. Blue dots follow the tips of my fingers, and when I lift my hand, the dots stay in place. On the left side of the display is the thrust gauge, a blue bar I can slide to adjust the power of the engines.

“Settled in, Mr. Lance?” my instructor asks in the headset.

“Yeah.”

“All right, start the engine.”

I tap the green square next to the display screen and the engines engage with a mesmerizing hum.

“Slide the thrust to five percent and activate your window display.”

The Molter shudders and lifts a few inches off the floor. Numbers run across the window displays: engine power, fuel life, altitude, bearing, radar, and even the distances to the nearest three cities.

“In a few moments, your guidance system will flash green,” my instructor continues. “At that time, tap the EXIT icon. Autopilot will guide the Molter outside. Then raise the thrust and the sky is yours.”

The transport gate unseals, flooding the dock with white morning light. Like he said, the screen flashes green, so I tap the yellow EXIT icon. The Molter drifts toward the open gate, which the bright morning sunlight is pouring through. Then I’m outside. I’ve left the safety of the transport and moved into Undil’s empty sky.

I crane my neck to see the ground: ten thousand feet below me, a cloud of dust billows across the open desert. Mesas and small gorges blemish the land. Below me is death…and above me is freedom. It escapes my reach even though I’m grazing its edge. If only I could point to the sky and blast away to Belvun… Find Ladia and never—

“Mr. Lance, please move forward,” my instructor says, shaking me from my thoughts. “The others would like to exit.”

“Sorry.”