Mitzi waited until her entire team nodded before she stood up. “There’s no time like the present. Let’s get moving now while at least some of the Cymics are still asleep.”

She stopped in front of her suit to give it a quick examination before she stepped inside it. The fire had tarnished its beautiful shiny plates, and the right leg, which the parasites had tried to break into, looked horribly mangled. There were dents and nicks over the back where she’d been thrown to the ground, and parts of the paint had been scraped off. It wasn’t as pretty as it had been when she’d first seen it, but it had lived up to Central’s claims of durability.

Mitzi climbed inside and pressed the button to close and lock the suit around herself. The screen flickered to life in front of her eyes, and she checked the little icons along the bottom, waiting until four of them registered as being active. She took an experimental step forward and once again felt the reeling sensation of too much power, but it was less disorienting than it had been the first time.

“Eoin, can you tell me the best way to get into the ceiling?”

His suit turned, examining the support pillars and the protrusions in the walls that indicated braces, then stepped to a spot near the right-hand side and pointed at the ceiling tile.

“Right-o, then.” Mitzi grabbed a coffee table, dragged it to the space under the ceiling tile, then climbed onto the wooden surface. It groaned under the weight of the suit but held, and Mitzi pulled the poly-zincrom tile out of its holder.

Eoin had been right. There was a space between the ceiling and the floor above. It wasn’t quite high enough to stand, but they would be able to run at a crouch. Mitzi hauled herself into the gap, using the metal beams to carry her weight, and held a hand down for her team.

“Quietly,” she murmured as she pulled Skye then Franc up. “Don’t let them guess what we’re doing.”

Eoin let Mitzi pull him into the crawlspace, but Mir hesitated.

“You want to stay?” Mitzi asked, hand extended.

Mir glanced at her then at the door separating her from the Cymics before gripping the offered palm.

Mitzi grinned. “Good girl.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Mitzi pulled Mir into the ceiling space and waved to Adam and Ellen, who were still out of their suits. Adam looked sulky and jealous, but Ellen seemed relieved to have a job she could cope with.

Mitzi turned back to the crawlspace. It was a mess of pillars and metal brackets coming through the floor in odd formations and often at strange angles. Metal cables thicker than Mitzi’s arm speared through the area.

“Go straight ahead,” Nic instructed. “I’ll tell you when to get back into the hallway.”

Mitzi, bent double, began slinking through the jumble of supports, weaving under cables and around metal pipes. She’d always enjoyed stealth missions; the pressure to move both quickly and quietly combined with the danger of discovery made her feel alive like little else could. Mitzi didn’t try to stop the grin that grew across her face.