2.

It looked like a death machine.

Rachel walked toward it, across the emerald meadow framed by snowy peaks. Her body still groaned at the effort, but the cutting, cold air helped somehow. In her years at the Library she had forgotten how Earth made its own decisions about weather, temperature and humidity and all that—not dull human engineers.

The long, gleaming tubes stood on either side of the carbon-fiber chair, molded into it for support. The tubes were three meters tall, sleek as rockets, and with rotors encased in two large ducts that looked a bit like cupcakes. It rested on three legs, an odd contraption ill-suited to the ground. In flight it might seem right, though. If this was the latest fun risk sport, it somehow managed to look both stylish and nerdy.

They called these Lifters. The pair stood like gleaming contraries amid grass spangled with yellow wildflowers. The beautiful meadow was the last sign of life before the moraine, gray broken granite like something left over from the building of the universe.

Beyond them lay the target, Everest. Nearly nine kilometers above sea level, its prow cut the streaming clouds as if it were a ship gliding through a white ocean. From here, just below Base Camp, she wondered how Lifters could take anyone that far, climbing nearly four kilometers.

Rachel walked around a Lifter warily, her breath puffing in the chilled air. “It can go that far?” she asked the tall, bald engineer who was checking the engine ports.

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Fraq. “We built them special for that alien. Used the tech blueprints he had—some real good ideas there. I think they’ll take him and that woman up halfway, maybe more. Then you gotta refuel.”

Rachel liked the engineer but not the contraption. “Fraq wants me at the refueling post. He doesn’t trust you guys to get it right. Maybe.”

The engineer snorted. “Ma’am, these’re assault pods. Real powerful. Infantry uses ’em to go straight up skyscrapers, mostly. Mountains? They’re easier to climb, sure. But Lifters got plenty room for error. You get a fuel line plugged, you just set down.” He sniffed dismissively. “Piece of cake. Don’t gotta be smart.”

Rachel didn’t think any of this was smart, but she was here anyway. She nodded and walked over to the Seeker of Script, Henjai Chen, who was checking out her ascent suit. “Ready?” Rachel said with an attempt at bright optimism.

On Chen, the tight, black leather flight suit looked like a fetish item. Kink chic.

“I think so,” the woman said softly, as though cowed. “Is… he?”

Fraq stood apart, checking his flight suit methodically. Getting his feathers into a pressure suit had been a tricky engineering issue Rachel was happy to hear nothing more about. His strange eyes swept the plain where the team readied the technical assists and the Lifters. To Rachel, this was a thoroughly exotic place, this broad meadow at high altitude. She had never even been in Asia, until her orbitfall into warm, humid Tamil Nadu. This chilly mountain fastness felt like another world. The working teams wore simple cloth garments, as if from another age, hemmed in by a mountain range that stepped away into ever-higher, snowy bastions. She sniffed and tried to keep her focus. The Himalayas were awesome, beautiful, and, to her, a distraction. She could be a tourist some other time.