I should’ve thought of that. Now that Adam’s jogged my memory, I realize that I saw this technology at work back at the West Virginia mountain base. When Setrákus Ra first arrived on Earth, his ship moved through the base’s force field like it wasn’t even there. When I tried to chase him down, the shield totally fried me.

“Would it be possible to strip that technology out of the Skimmers and put it into something else?” I ask Adam. “Like, for instance, a fighter jet?”

Adam considers this. “Possible, yes. But while it wouldn’t have to worry about the warship’s shields, it would still be targeted by the cannons.”

I remember what Ella showed me during our shared dream—the docking bay where she and Five tried to escape. Maybe we can use the Mogs’ own technology against them.

“We could get like ten people onto one of those Skimmers, right?” I ask next, considering a new plan of attack.

“Twelve, plus two pilots,” Adam answers quickly. “You’re considering a less obvious assault.”

“Yeah. If we could board one of those warships, how many people do you think we’d need to overtake it?”

There’s a bit of excitement in Adam’s voice now. “That would depend on how many of those people had Legacies. Have I mentioned, John, that when I was a child I dreamed about flying one of those warships?”

I smirk at that. “You might just get your chance, Adam. Thanks for the info. Can you put Six back on?”

Adam says good-bye and hands the phone back to Six.

“You think we should try boarding the Anubis?” Six asks me. “Sam was just encouraging me and the others to run as fast and as far from that thing as possible.”

“I’m not sure what we should do yet, but I want to know our options,” I reply. I look at Sam and can’t help frowning. He’s not going to like what I have to say next. “Stay put, Six. Help is on the way.”

A short time later, Sam and I walk along the pier, looking for Agent Walker. Wherever she went with those two army guys and their civilian, it’s taking longer than expected. Up ahead, there’s a large military presence on the concrete dock that juts into the East River. When we arrive, a small group of soldiers are hard at work pulling empty kayaks from the water and dumping them in a pile out of the way so that the military ships have a clear place to dock. This place wasn’t exactly designed for battleships. In the last twenty-four hours, it’s been turned into something of a staging area, with a bunch of navy destroyers floating ominously in the narrow waterway, their guns pointed at the smoking remains of downtown Manhattan.