Confusion flickers over her face, as if she doesn’t know the answer to my question. Then she steps forward and draws an earpiece from her pocket. “I’ll be on Phobos, on the main deck. If you need me to do anything, this is a direct line, okay? I … I promise it won’t be like last time.”

I take it from her palm, shivering a bit when my fingers brush her skin. “You’re on my side.”

“You’re the only one on my side. What else am I supposed to do?” she says, and she’s only half-joking. She jogs back to the door, then glances over her shoulder.

Our eyes meet.

I want to say something, want to wish her luck or make her stay. I want to make these seconds count, because if something bad goes down here, they could be our very last. And Swift seems on the cusp of spitting something out too. Her lips twitch, but she inhales sharply before any words start to form, and then she bolts out the door without even saying goodbye.

I call Bao in with the beacon and slip Swift’s earpiece on, wincing as I adjust the moldings to the shape of my ear. It’s silent now, but if I press against it and speak, the device will read the vibrations in my skull and pipe my voice straight to her. No matter how much chaos surrounds me, she’ll hear me loud and clear, and there’s a little bit of comfort in that.

A blast of sea wind hits me, and I shiver. It’s an overcast day. Maybe that’s why the quadcopters have chosen now to strike. I squint up at the clouds, as if I could spot a four-rotored shadow creeping up on us from above. But the only shadow approaching is Bao’s beneath the waves. I spot him circling deep below us, drawn upward by the light and noise of the beacon.

The earpiece buzzes to life, and I almost lose my grip on my handhold. “Keep him submerged for now,” Swift tells me. “Only bring him up if we need him.”

“Got it,” I tell her, and kick the beacon, flipping the switches to order Bao to dive.

“Inbound is less than a minute out. Splinters away at my mark,” the all-call snaps. “Three. Two. One.”