My eyes pass through the shadows, and for a moment I panic when I can’t see Slick on the desk where I left him, turned off.

But no—it’s okay. I fumble for the light, and, as it flickers on, it catches the greenish-purple iridescence of his carapace. His legs stick up in the air, like the stamen of a flower, his wings spread like petals. He could almost be a flower in his position—albeit one that looks like it would eat little insects alive. A metal Venus flytrap. Maybe that could be my first range of bakus for Moncha Corp, if I become a companioneer. Carnivorous plant bakus.

Zora takes a step past me and sits down on my wheeled computer desk chair, ready to get started on the code. In fact, she cracks each one of her knuckles and flexes her fingers in readiness.

Paul walks in next and picks the beetle up in his palm. “Let’s see what we have here. I haven’t had a chance to look closely at one of the latest-generation beetle bakus, and I wonder what they’ve integrated into the level ones now…” He puts a magnifying eyepiece to his left eye. “Hmm, this is a bit strange.”

“What are you seeing?” I ask.

“I’m not entirely sure…hang on. George?”

Even though they don’t have telepathic communication like Jinx and I did, George seems to know exactly what Paul needs. He brings him a tiny screwdriver, like one that would normally be used to fix jewelry. Paul starts digging around in Slick’s body with the screwdriver, and even though I’m not exactly fond of the little beetle, I tense.

But if there’s anyone I can trust to be gentle with technology, it’s Paul.

“Hmm. What do you make of this? There’s some kind of…addition here.”

Paul pries open two of Slick’s hind legs. I look down into the beetle’s body. It takes me a few seconds, but then I see it. There’s an appendage tucked away. Another retractable leg. Strange.

I frown, part of a memory coming back to me, as fleeting as a sneeze. Paul pries the extra appendage out of position. The “leg” is filed down to a point. It’s almost like a syringe…

There’s a zap of movement, and the beetle suddenly comes to life. He flips over in Paul’s palm. Paul yelps and closes his other hand on top of Slick.

“What’s happening?” Paul asks. “I thought you turned him off.”

“I did! Maybe you flipped the switch by accident?”

But we both know that would be impossible.