“My good looks?” She bared her teeth. “I chose the call sign Medusa. No one forced it on me.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“I never told you that.”

“I know you,” Tom said. “I’ve seen you in action. You’d never let someone stick that name on you or have that power over you. Every weak point becomes another weapon for you. That’s why being low and underhanded was the only way to beat you in a fight.”

She slowed a moment, and he sensed that he might’ve said something she liked. Her tone grew softer. “There’s no secret to circumventing the Coalition, Mordred. The companies all chip in for me because I win territory for them. ‘Medusa’ will go public one day—but she’ll be some other girl with some other face, and when she does, Harbinger Incorporated will be her sponsor, not mine. I’ll be invisible.”

Tom stopped. So that was it. That was the end. The realization was like a fist socking him in the stomach, driving the air from him. His last hope, the last shred he’d been clinging to, and now it was gone.

He was never going to be a CamCo. The realization made him laugh.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” he said lightly, jerking back into motion. “I’m an idiot. That’s all. I think I’ve destroyed all my chances here.”

It was her turn to smile and shake her head. “You said that last time, too. I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“No, but I know you. You’re too stubborn to lose. You always come back.”

It was strange, but her words were exactly what he needed to hear. Happiness swept through him at the utter confidence in her tone. He drew his gun, but Medusa had drawn hers a bit earlier, more than making up for the speed of his character. Their guns blasted at the same time.

Her bullet thunked into his torso as his glanced off her shoulder, and Tom flew back across the sandy, scorched ground, registering a short flash of pain that receded immediately, according to the simulation’s pain settings. But Medusa’s rapid footsteps scuffed across the ground, and with a savage yell, she careened into him as he tried to rise, knocking them both over, sending dirt scorching into Tom’s lungs. He was stronger than her, heavier, and he lashed out with his arm to pin her beneath him. They stared at each other from inches away. But she was tense against him, and while she was there, a captive audience, Tom groped for something to say to make up for Capitol Summit.

“Hey, you saw how I look. I’m no prize, either,” he admitted.

Medusa’s face grew shadowed.

Oh. Oh, no. Wait. Had he hurt her feelings?