“What’s the hang-up?” Arturo asked.

“We have the booster fixed,” Siv said, “and we tested the acclivity ring, but we had to rip out the shield igniter. Still waiting for a replacement—should have new ones in a batch next week. So you’ve been assigned to Skyward Six unless you want to fly without a shield.”

Arturo reluctantly walked to Kimmalyn’s former ship. I continued on to Skyward Ten. It was a little hard to think of this as “my” ship, with M-Bot back in the cavern. But Ten had done right by me. She was a good fighter.

Instead of my normal ground crew waiting to help me strap in, I found Cobb standing there, holding my helmet.

“Sir?” I asked him.

“You look like you’re having a rough day, Spin,” he said. “You need more time?”

“No, sir.”

“I’m supposed to report your status to medical. Maybe you should go in and have a chat. Meet one of Thior’s new counselors.”

I lifted my hand, holding out the little case of data I’d taken from the library. The secrets that, it turned out, I really hadn’t wanted to know. “I’m fine, sir.”

He studied me, then took the data case. He handed me my helmet, which I inspected, finding the sensors inside.

“Yes,” Cobb said, “they’re still monitoring your brain.”

“Have they… found anything important?” I still didn’t know what to make of all this, but the idea of medical spying on my brain while I flew made me uncomfortable.

“I’m not at liberty to say, cadet. Though I get the impression that they’re eager to start testing all new cadets, using data they’ve collected on you.”

“And you really want me to go in and meet with their counselors? So they can run more weird tests on me?” I grimaced. I had enough problems without wondering why medical was worried about my brain.

“You shouldn’t be so afraid of medical,” he said, tucking the case into his front shirt pocket and pulling something from it. A folded sheet of paper. “Dr. Thior is a good person. Take this, for example.”

Curious, I took the sheet of paper and read it.

Authorization for release of restrictions on Cadet Spensa Nightshade. it read. Full cadet privileges instated. Memo #11723.

It was signed by Admiral Judy Ivans.

“What… ?” I asked. “Why?”

“After your visit to medical, someone sent Dr. Thior a tip, explaining that you were living in the wilderness and being forced to catch your own food. The doctor raised an enormous fuss about you being isolated from your flight, and the admiral finally backed down. You can sleep and eat in the school building now.”

I felt a sudden, almost overwhelming relief. Oh, stars. Tears crept to the corners of my eyes.

Scud, as good as this news was, it was the wrong time. I was already in a fragile emotional state. I just about lost it right there on the launchpad.

“I…,” I forced out. “I wonder who sent that tip to Dr. Thior.”