The lip of the wall beneath the rough-cut hole left little room under the assembly line, squeezing the crawl space even more. Thrusting my arms through the narrow space like a diver, I launched with my legs. The belt bit into my back and shoulders, scraping them. As it jolted ahead, it shoved me backward until the edge of the wall cut into my gut. Then the belt paused.

I was stuck.

Thump. Squelch.

The next movement was going to rip me apart.

I had a moment of blind panic.

I closed my eyes. Heard Patrick’s voice.

You can. You always could.

I thought of Alex up there, three kids from the end of the line. And I thought about what the Queen was about to do to her.

I blew my breath out all the way, shrinking my chest, and pulled my stomach taut.

The belt juddered backward again, tugging me the wrong way. With everything I had, I shoved against it. The wall ground across my ribs and stomach, the belt moving in the opposite direction above, threatening to skin me. For a second I thought my hips would catch and the bones simply snap.

But then I shot through.

I landed under the belt outside, pain screaming through my body.

Thump. Squelch.

Alex was two kids away from the Queen.

Pulling the folding knife from my pocket, I jerked it open and bit down on the blade, clenching it between my teeth like a pirate. Then I shot toward Alex and the end of the line. The Queen’s slender sheathed legs came into view alongside the thick calves of her Drone.

I didn’t have time to be afraid.

The boy ahead of Alex lunged into position beneath the Queen.

Thump.

I could hear the stinger uncoil wetly. Then the conveyer belt shuddered under the impact, dust raining over me.

Squelch.

Alex was next.

I was directly beneath her. I could hear her crying above me. A drop slid off the side of the belt, tapping the ground beside me.

A tear.

The next movement of the belt would bring her into position.

Rolling onto my back, I rammed the knife up through the bottom of the belt, wedging it between two of the powerful metal rollers.

The belt went to lurch again.

The machinery groaned above me. It seemed it would just power through the blade.

But then the conveyer snapped somewhere farther back on the line, the belt rippling like a sheet of paper jammed in a printer. Heavy rubber folds fell around me.

A moment of silence as dust swirled in the air.

Then the Drone trotted off to check on the trouble, his legs vanishing from view. The seamless, bootlike feet of the Queen’s suit remained right there by my face. I could have reached out and rapped her toes with my knuckles.

I waited, holding my breath.

Finally one boot pivoted away. Her knee bent slightly.