I chose us a large but lightly armed craft of the kind used to transport weapons or troops. The entry hatch was a Network-enabled interface like the ones Turk had lately taught himself to use. When I was Treya I could have opened it effortlessly just by putting my hand against the control surface and working the options in my head. But I had lost that ability when I lost my node. As Allison, I was locked out of all but the simplest Voxish appliances and applications. The problem was that Turk was a novice, and he was obviously having a hard time focusing his intentions. He may, at this point, have been uncertain about what he really wanted. A long breathless moment passed; then the hatch slid open.

We stepped into the vehicle as the interior lights winked on. I quickly checked to see that the aircraft had its full complement of supplies, including food and water to last us through the Arch to Equatoria. The stasis lockers were stocked and complete. There were no warning lights or sounds, which meant we were good to go. Turk took a seat in the forward compartment of the aircraft. It was possible to fly the vehicle from any of its control surfaces, and you didn’t need visuals to know where you were going. But Turk had been a pilot in his past life, flying by eye and hand. The first thing he did after he established an interface was to create a window display in the front wall, as if he were sitting in an old-fashioned cockpit. Suddenly I could see the wide expanse of the hangar deck in front of us—it made me feel defenseless; I would have preferred a blank wall.

But if it helped Turk, so be it. I took a seat beside him and watched the deck for any sign that we’d been noticed. Which came immediately. Yellow lights blinked on over the transit pods. Company was coming. I was surprised it hadn’t come sooner, but that might have been Isaac running interference for us. “We have to leave,” I said, “now.” The ship’s controls couldn’t be overridden from outside the vehicle … at least I didn’t think so; but if a second vehicle came after us we could theoretically be intercepted or shot down.

The aircraft didn’t move. “Having a hard time keeping the menu in front of me,” Turk whispered, visualizing a display I couldn’t see. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“It’s just like the training interfaces. All we need is to go up.”

Outside, the nearest transit pod slid open and disgorged a company of soldiers.

“Now, Turk. Or else we stay.”

He gave me a helpless look.

I said, “I don’t want to die here.”

He nodded. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Abruptly, the deck fell away beneath us.

2.

Our aircraft pushed through the electrostatic barrier into murky daylight.