“Yes, but that was then.”

“Good to know. Is he going to punch his way through it? Overturn every stone? This is a replicating robot threat that infects, recycles, and adapts.”

“He can. At least in a swathe around the portal. He can cut them back.”

“And if they infect him? We know they can operate interdimensionally. They can plant those seeds.”

“He can chew them up. It’s his domain and focus. It’s like saying they have blowtorches, so they’re a threat to a burning continent.”

“They have blowtorches, and they got those blowtorches scarily fast. It’s like saying those people who learned to make blowtorches with amazing speed might learn and adapt to that burning continent, given enough time.”

“I don’t intend to give them time.”

“You said a swathe around the portal. A secure area?”

“Yes, but that’s for now. I wanted to reassure you this was going to be quick and painless. In a matter of hours we’ll have other strong powers. Other clones. We have tools.”

“Amy, you’re fighting me again. Are we collaborating on this or not?”

“I’m not fighting you.”

“Are we collaborating? Come on, time’s getting shorter. Is there a world where you’re with Shin, I’m here in the city, and we work together to find a solution that makes both sides happy?”

I kept my voice level, but the look in my eyes was a steady glare, the feeling in my stomach a stew-pot of indignation and disgust, and my body still didn’t feel like it was my own, in the eerieness of the moment. Like a tiny, healthy part of me had fled or pulled back so it wouldn’t have to hear her voice, or hear mine putting words together like ‘collaborating’.

“We already ruled out compromise,” Luis said.

“We didn’t exactly,” Amy said. “If it comes down to compromise or Shin backing down, we won’t—”

The call cut off. Muting.

I drew in a deep breath. My fingernail-less finger dug into the soft part of my thumb, like I could stab it.

I didn’t look at the others present, the entirety of my focus on this.

“Mark?” My mom asked. “Is this doable?”

There was only silence. Their side was still muted.

I looked up at the map. Four minutes until interception. Until Dauntless met Chevalier.

The Chevalier had paused at a stockpile of construction materials, gathering more things. A weapon, a shield, armor for the chest, armor for the face. The interception time didn’t change much as a consequence of his stalling. He was wholly focused on his mission.

I was wholly focused on mine.

“Mark,” my mom said. “Can our girls do this?”

Ah. That was why she’d spoken up. She’d wanted to get in that ‘our girls’ bit.