Nedd thumbed toward FM. “See, she’s the other kind of stupid.”

FM smacked him on the back of the head, and he grinned. Then he stood and grabbed me in a suffocating bear hug. “Good to see you, Spin. Order something to eat. Arturo’s paying.”

“I am?”

“You’re rich.”

“So are you.”

“I’m the other kind of rich. The poor kind.”

“Oh, for the Saint’s sake,” Arturo said.

“Don’t use the Saint’s name in vain,” Kimmalyn said.

“You do all the time!”

“I’m religious. You’re not. So it’s okay for me.”

Nedd grinned, using his foot to hook a chair from the next table over, then pulling it to us. He waved for me to sit down.

I did so, hesitant. I was still distracted by the recording in my jumpsuit pocket. At the same time, seeing Nedd and Kimmalyn made me feel warm. This was something I needed.

So I tried to forget about the recording for now.

“Spin, this is Bryn,” Arturo said, pointing to the girl sitting close—very close—to him. “A friend from before flight school.”

“I honestly don’t know how you all suffer him,” she said. “He pretended to know everything before he became a pilot. He must be impossible now.”

He mock-punched her lightly on the shoulder, smiling. Yes, it was clear that this was an established relationship. How had I never known that Arturo was attached?

I would know. I thought, if I ever got to spend any time outside of class with the rest of them…

A few seconds later, FM set something purple and bubbling in front of me, along with a basket of fried algae strips. She settled into her own seat and tossed a pouch to Kimmalyn. “Found your necklace,” she said. “Under your bed.”

“Thank you, dear,” Kimmalyn said, opening it and checking inside. “I did pitch something of a fit when I left, didn’t I?”

“Are you guys coming back to the DDF?” I asked. “Are we going to talk to Cobb? They need pilots. Maybe we could get them to take you back.”

Nedd and Kimmalyn shared a look, then Nedd took a long drink. “No,” he said. “Cobb said most of the class would wash out. So they’re expecting this, right? They’re not going to take us. And I’m not sure I could do that to my mother, after…”

Silence. Conversation at the table died.

“I might not be coming back, but at least I made cadet,” Kimmalyn said, perking up. “My parents are proud, and the gunners in Bountiful are full of chatter about me.”

“But… I mean… flying…,” I said, although I knew I should leave well enough alone.

“We aren’t like you, Spin,” Nedd said. “Flying was great. I’d go back up in a heartbeat, but something about the DDF… the culture, the throwing cadets into battle, the desperation…”

FM gave him two thumbs up. Kimmalyn just looked down at her lap. She was probably thinking what I was. The DDF had a reason to be desperate. When cadets flew, it wasn’t only for practice—or even because the DDF was callous with lives. It was because we needed more pilots in the air, however inexperienced.