“I don’t have any weapons, Quirk,” I said. “It’s you or nobody. You can do it. Get ready.”

I dove low, destructor blasts flashing all around me. We skimmed the ground, my entourage following like an angry swarm of insects. Scud. I could see Alta right ahead. We were close.

Up above, Nedd and Arturo engaged the bomber’s black guards. I didn’t have time to pay attention, as I was forced to dodge in another direction, bolting out of the way of a force of Krell that had looped around to try to cut me off.

A couple of destructor blasts hit M-Bot’s shield.

“Hey!” M-Bot said. “Just for that, I shall hunt your firstborn children and laugh with glee as I tell them of your death in terrible detail, with many unpleasant adjectives!”

I groaned. He’d said it over the group channel again.

“Please tell me,” I said, “that I don’t sound like that.”

The others didn’t reply.

“A pox of unique human diseases—many of which cause an uncomfortable swelling—come upon you!”

“Oh, scud. That is how I sound, isn’t it?” I gritted my teeth, hitting the booster to cut ahead of the enemy. There were so many of them. All they needed were a few lucky shots.

But all I needed was to keep them busy for a little longer. I cut right and speared one with my light-lance, using its momentum to spin me in a tight turn. I darted around its companions as I released the one I’d lanced, sending it flying in an awkward tumble.

Now up. I cut up and around a hillside, moving away before the Krell could corner me.

“Spensa?” M-Bot said.

Down. I dove, right before some Krell ships tried to cut me off in the other direction.

“How are you doing that?” he asked.

Right. I turned through the center of some ships coming at me. Destructor blasts skimmed my wings, but not a single shot landed.

“You’re reacting,” he said, “to things they haven’t done yet.”

I could sense their orders in the back of my mind. Quiet yet piercing, the commands traveled from above down to these Krell. They were communicating using another space, another place—and I could tap into it. Listen in on their commands.

I was somehow internalizing their commands, and responding to them before I knew what I was doing.

I tried not to let that freak me out.

M-Bot was incredibly agile, capable of quick boosts and deliberate slices in one direction or another. As I flew, it seemed as if I could feel him—feel the very lines of electricity that passed my orders through his fuselage. I flew with the immediate, unconscious skill of a person flexing their muscles. With the precision of a cautious surgeon, but the frenetic energy of the strongest athlete. It was incredible.

I was so consumed that I almost missed it as Arturo radioed in. “Spin, this isn’t working. Those black ships refuse to be pulled away from the bomber. They engage us if we get close, but fall back when we draw away. And the bomber is still flying on a steady course.”