My mind was racing. How did I get the drone out of this? Any second now, this hall would flood with security guards.
Status? I asked the drone, tapping covertly on my bracelet.
Scientists hide, the drone said. None return fire.
I scanned the hallway. On my mark, fly out into hall. Fire two shots up high, and don’t hit anyone. Then drop gun.
Affirmative.
Backpack is by wall. Quickly hide inside after dropping gun.
Instructions understood.
Right. I took a deep breath, then sent, Go.
Immediately, the drone—visible only as a shimmer in the air—floated out into the hallway. It fired the destructor overhead, sending the guard to the ground with a cry of fear.
“It’s coming for us!” I shouted. Then—right as the drone dropped the gun—I fired.
I’d done some time in the firing ranges, but had never thought that so much would ride on being able to hit a moving target with a pistol. My first three shots missed, but I managed to hit the gun right before it hit the ground.
The subsequent explosion was impressively large, sending out sparks and molten bits of metal. My shot detonated the pistol’s power supply. As the loud explosion washed over us, light flashing and blinding me, I dove for the Krell guard as if to shield her from the blast.
The two of us ended up in a pile on the floor. I blinked, trying to dispel the spots the bright flash had caused in my vision. Judging by how stunned the guard looked, she had suffered something similar.
Eventually, she shoved me off and scrambled to her feet. “What happened!”
“A drone,” I said, pointing toward a scorched portion of the carpet. “I shot it down.”
There was no sign of the drone itself, but the destroyed pistol had left scattered debris. Klaxons continued to go off, but the absence of further shots made the guard cautiously creep forward and inspect the burned ground.
“Get back to your transport room,” she said.
I was all too happy to do so, snatching up my backpack—which I was relieved to find heavy with the weight of the drone.
The guard peeked into the engine room to check on those inside, then thought to call to me, “Leave the gun!”
I dropped the pistol by the wall, then met up with Hesho right as a troop of six guards tromped past. One of them, a dione, hollered for us to get back into our room—but fortunately, we didn’t look too suspicious. Other pilots had gathered out in the hallway, confused by the warnings.
We scrambled into our seats, me clutching the backpack with my contraband drone inside. I peeked into it, and was shocked to see the drone. Shouldn’t it be invisible?
I quickly zipped the pack up and tapped to it: Engage lunch hologram. Version two, empty container.
Holographic unit offline, it tapped back. Explosion damaged system.
Sweat trickled down the sides of my face. I was exposed. If guards demanded to inspect my bag . . .
Eventually, the warning klaxons turned off, and I felt the Weights and Measures dock at Starsight. My trepidation only grew. Could I find a way to stow the drone, for now, on the ship? Come back for it later?
There wasn’t even a chance—we were ordered to make our way to the shuttle bay. I walked among a huddle of nervous pilots, noting the numerous guards in the hallways. I searched frantically for a way out, and remembered the second identity that M-Bot had programmed into my bracelet. The nondescript dione hologram.
Could I use that now, somehow? It seemed unlikely. A mysterious dione appearing in my place would be just as suspicious. So, I slunk along, sure each step of the way that the hammer was going to fall on me. I was so focused on that, I didn’t notice the irregularity until I was almost at the shuttle bay.
Vapor. I couldn’t smell her, and the other pilots didn’t leave an opening for her like they normally did. I entered the docking bay and waited, trying to see if I could smell her.
A second later, she wafted across me. A sharp smell of . . . lemons. The same scent I’d smelled earlier, in the hallway outside of Engineering.
She was there. In the hallway. I pulled my pack closer.
“Vapor?” I asked.
“Come with me,” her voice snapped. “Now.”
I winced, and—in a panic—reached out with my mind. Maybe I could hyperjump away, then find some way to come back for . . .
No, the directions to Detritus in my mind would end up with me floating out