“It’syourlifestone,” he corrects. “And you know I do.”
“Don’t take it off.”
“Iwon’t,” Lament growls, with the impatience of a man who would like to return to the task at hand. “Anything else?”
You gave that boy your lifestone.
Have you told him why?
“Nope,” I say.
He speaks into his headset. “We’re going in.”
We blast through the sky toward the A-Line. I wiggle my shoulder blades against my backrest, take my controls into my hands. To break into the Determinists’ freighter, steal the neutralizer, and release it into Venthros’s atmosphere, we first have to disable the ship’s security system, and to dothat, I’m going to have to take a shot that’s… look, I’m not going to say it’simpossible, because if that was true, we wouldn’t be here. It’s more likeimpossible adjacent. It’sfriendswith impossible. If it was writing out its five-year plan, it would aspire to impossibility.
All A-Line deployer ships come with built-in attack surveillance and defense technology. There are cameras positioned around the ship’s body that can detect an incoming craft and will automatically open fire if a threat is identified. That would be bad news for us, except there happens to be a known loophole: The cameras are wired together. If you scramble the sensor on one camera with, say, a well-placed Halobringer ray beam, it’ll freeze the whole system. The A-Line manufacturers haven’t ever bothered to close this loophole, because they assert their cameras will always identify (and eliminate) an incoming threat long before the enemy gets close enough to do any harm. The joined wiring is, in their words, a nonissue.
We’re betting they’re wrong.
As Lament and I fly closer, I switch my Halobringer from its highestsetting (ultimate annihilation) to its lowest (general butchery), charging the gunjust enoughto fuel this shot. I’m still worried the ray beam will be too powerful. It could destroy the ship in one go (we don’t want that). It could take out not just the attack sensors butallthe ship’s interior wiring (also not good). Even if I calculate the power output correctly, there’s a chance I’ll miss my shot. I have a whopping total of one try to fire a ray beam through a camera lens the size of a coin. And it gets better, because we can’t just fly into range at normal speeds (see: deployer attack sensors). The only way to maneuver close enough to take out the A-Line’s cameras is toalsofly so fast that the ship’s sensors don’t register our movement.
Put shortly, I’ll be attempting this shot at supersonic speeds.
If I miss, our plan is ruined and the planet is doomed.
Yay.
Lament turns Moon Dancer into her final position, gearing up. Anyone inside the ship will hear the sonic boom of our flyby, but if we do this right, by the time they rush to look out their windows, we’ll be long gone. The A-Line’s guns will remain in their slots, the threat will remain undetected. The Determinists will shrug and go back to pulling the wings off butterflies, or whatever it is they’re doing in there.
Lament starts giving us some speed. I’m completely relying on my controls here, zooming my panel’s viewfinder to locate one of the A-Line’s small glass cameras. If Lament deviates Moon Dancer even a fraction, the shot will be off. If my hands tremble, if I lose focus, if I punch the trigger too soon or too late, the shot will be off.
But Lament doesn’t deviate. And my hands don’t shake. I line up the target in my sights, hold my breath. Lament gives Moon Dancer more speed still, and the moment we break the sound barrier, I press the trigger.
It seems like there should be a noise of some kind. Aboomorbang, the electronicburrof a ray beam hitting the ship’s system. But there’s nothing. Not even the sound of our own sonic boom (you can’t hear yourself break the sound barrier because, you know, you’re ahead of it). I watch the Halobringer’s distinctive comet light blast out its muzzle and hit mychosen camera, vanishing in a silent puff. Lament and I careen past a split second later, ruffling the field’s grass in our wake.
Lament pulls us up and away. I strain in my seat, searching the swiftly shrinking A-Line for some hint that my shot hit its mark, or didn’t.
“The systems are down,” Vera’s voice tells us over our headsets, squeaking a little. “Jester confirmed it was a direct hit. Well done, Keller.”
A general cheer goes up over our speakers. I smile, exhale a shaky laugh.
“That was the easy part,” Avi says. “Now comes the true heist. Gear up, everyone. It’s time to kick some Determinist butt.”
We reconvene in a sparsely wooded area a few miles north of the A-Line. The others are already there, waiting among the scrubby foliage while Lament lands Moon Dancer carefully through the canopy.
These woods aren’t anything like the ones near Mount Kilmon. The trees are younger, mostly birches and maples instead of towering redwoods, but I scan the branches anyway, just in case.
“Any monsters out there?” Lament asks lightly as he unlatches the cockpit.
“Not if they know what’s good for them.”
Caspen unloads her overland rover from The Bargainer’s hulk, revving the engine like she’s at the starting line of a race. Those of us taking part in this leg of the plan—everyone except Master Ira and Illiviamona, who will remain on the cargo ship—scramble inside, elbowing for the best seats.
“Why do I always get stuck in the middle?” Avi whines from her spot between Jester and Toph.
“Because you’re the smallest,” Youvu Hum replies patiently.
“I can’t help my size!” She adopts a perfect pout. “Next time, I say we draw knives.”
