engaged?”
“Of course. You promise we aren’t going into combat today. Right?”
“No combat,” I promised. “Just a quick flight to test that booster.”
We rose through the fake ceiling of the cavern and I felt myself growing tense, excited. I’d been flying every day, but this was different. M-Bot’s control panel somehow made the most complex of the DDF ships seem simple, so I stuck to the buttons I understood.
The open sky called. I tried to relax, settling back into my seat. The control sphere, throttle, and altitude lever were exactly like the ones I knew. I could do this.
“Are you ready?” M-Bot asked.
In response, I slammed on the overburn.
We blasted forward, and his advanced g-force management immediately kicked in. I expected to get pressed back in my seat, but I barely felt it, even on full overburn.
“Scuuuud,” I said softly.
“Nice, isn’t it?” M-Bot said. “I’m far better than those other ships you waste your time with.”
“Can we accelerate even faster than this?”
“Not on one booster. But I’m outfitted with two slots for smaller boosters under the wings, so it’s possible.”
We accelerated a little slower than a Poco—which made sense, considering we were heavier than one but using the same booster. I noticed a real difference, however, as we got to speed. We blazed past Mag-6, Mag-7, Mag-8 . . . Scud, in a Poco, the ship would be shaking itself almost to pieces right now. But M-Bot hit Mag-10 and I couldn’t even tell. It was as smooth a ride as if I were at Mag-1.
I tried some maneuvers at speed, and the controls were incredibly responsive. It had been a while since I’d overcompensated for turns by accident, but I got the hang of it quickly. I slowed to normal dogfighting speeds, and practiced some banks and then some starship turns.
It all went so well that I accelerated to Mag-3 again, then performed some complex dodging moves. Swerves, spins, and a sharp loop at the end with an overburn on the descent.
It was perfect. This was perfect.
I really needed to get Rig up in this thing. Or perhaps Jorgen. I owed him one, for helping me get the booster. He’d be grouchy about being forced to come out all the way to my hole—since Jorgen was grouchy about basically everything—but surely he’d enjoy the flying. Soaring, free from constraints and expectations, and . . .
And . . . why was I following this line of thought again? I shook my head, throwing myself back into the flying. “Think about how great you’d be in battle,” I said to M-Bot.
“You promised.”
“I promised not to take you into combat tonight,” I said. “But I never promised I wouldn’t try to change your mind. Why are you scared?”
“I’m not scared. I’m following orders. Besides, what good would I be in combat? I don’t have destructors.”
“You don’t need those. Your IMP is working and so is your light-lance. With your maneuverability and those tools, we could devastate the Krell. They’ll be left chasing our shadow, then our shadow will consume theirs! This is going to be incredible!”
“Spin,” he said. “My orders are to stay out of combat.”
“We can find a way to change those. Don’t worry.”
“Um . . .” He sounded unconvinced. “Maybe . . . maybe we can do something to satisfy your strange human desires without going into an actual fight. You wish for a thrill? What if I projected a battle for you?”
“You mean like a simulator?”
“Kind of! I can project an augmented-reality hologram right onto your canopy, which will make you think you’re in a combat situation. That way, you can pretend to try to get yourself killed, while I don’t have to disobey my orders!”
“Huh,” I said, curious. Well, at the very least, it would let me test his responsiveness in a simulation. “Let’s do it.”
“Go to eleven thousand feet, and I’ll drop you into the Battle of Alta.”
“But I gave that data case back to Cobb.”
“I made a copy.” He hesitated for a moment. “Was that bad? I thought maybe you’d want to—”
“No, no it’s fine. It’s the only battle you can simulate for me though?”
“It’s the only one where I have proper three-D renderings. Is this a problem? Oh! Your father. This is the battle where your father became a traitor, something to which you are emotionally vulnerable because of your feelings of betrayal and inadequacy! Whoops.”
“It’s fine.”
“I could instead try to—”
“It’s fine.” I said, putting the ship at the altitude he’d stated, using maneuvering thrusters to