Cytonic (Skyward #3)(123)

Whatever she’d done, the delvers didn’t seem to be able to tell that a new rock had appeared. They swarmed about, agitated. Her camouflage was excellent. She’d blended us into the ground, covered up our tracks, and maybe even blurred our location for a little while when coming down.

“Spensa,” M-Bot said. “Do they really hate me? Like Chet?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“They shouldn’t,” M-Bot said. “I know we’ve talked about it, but it’s illogical. If they are AIs, then why hate all AIs? It’s like a human from a group hating everyone else in that group.”

I didn’t mention to him that unfortunately, that very thing wasn’t unheard of among humans. “Perhaps it’s because you’re too close to them, like how a human face with distorted features is more terrifying to us than an alien face.”

I reached into my pocket as I felt something wiggling there. I pulled out the pin, but it was enlarging, transforming into a bright yellow slug with blue markings. She reached her full size—about as big as a loaf of bread—but was all curled up and tense. I could feel the effort coming off her. She was working so hard on hiding the ship that she couldn’t hold her false shape any longer.

“She’s in pain,” M-Bot said softly. Indeed, she began letting out a long, high-pitched fluting noise.

“This is hard for her,” I guessed. “When doing hyperspace jumps, slugs only have to hide their ships for a short time. Keeping this up long-term for something this much larger than her is difficult. That’s why she was hesitant.”

Overhead, the delver ships began shooting destructors toward the ground. They had plainly guessed part of what had happened. They were trying to find us, and they soon seemed to coordinate a pattern search with each ship shooting at a different location, systematically hunting us.

“Projecting…” M-Bot said. “Using this method, they will find us in under a minute.”



“I doubt Doomslug can last much longer than that anyway,” I said, grabbing the controls. “We need to fly for the lightburst.”

It was under a hundred meters away—eighty-eight, according to the monitor—but blocked by a wall of steel ships. Scud. I had no choice but to try ramming our way in. Perhaps I could approach slowly, then push through without crashing?

“Why did she have you land first, though?” M-Bot said. “We aren’t invisible, Spensa.”

Yeah, I’d figured that out. If we moved, a floating rock or giant pile of chalk would immediately inform the delvers where we were. They’d shoot us down.

“Scud,” I said. “I…”

I…

No. Warriors did not give up. I seized the controls again. We had full shields and could take about four hits. I’d push us toward the exit, and…and if we exploded when I collided, then at least we died as warriors.

Hesho nodded to me, again holding the fruit Peg had given me. He’d protected it so far. “It has been a sublime experience traveling with you,” he told me. “I consider myself lucky to have earned your friendship not once, but apparently twice.”

I nodded, then—

“Wait!” M-Bot said. “What’s that outside?”

Something blinked on my proximity monitor, indicating an object moving right outside.

“Huh?” I asked.

“It’s another slug!” M-Bot said. “No, two more! Other icons. They must have sensed Doomslug.” He cracked the canopy, which I worried would bring the delvers, but the motion apparently wasn’t noticeable—not with the debris the destructor shots were sending everywhere.

“Get them, Spensa!” M-Bot said. “Use Doomslug to lure them!”

Shocked, I squeezed out through the dusty canopy, cradling Doomslug. I dropped onto the white chalky ground, my figure casting an eerie, too-long shadow. Hesho followed out onto the wing.



All I could see was whiteness. Infinite whiteness.

“M-Bot,” I said. “What—”

“I,” he said as the cockpit clicked closed, “made you look.”

I felt an immediate burst of annoyance. At a time like this, he cracked a joke?

Wait. I spun around.

The starfighter’s acclivity ring powered on. M-Bot lightly shook the wing, dumping Hesho—and Peg’s fruit that he was carrying—into the dust. Then M-Bot hovered into the air just beyond reach.

Doomslug fluted sorrowfully.

“M-Bot!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

“I feel it now, Spensa,” M-Bot said, his voice coming softly out his front speakers.

“Feel what? What is going on?”

“I feel,” he said, “why you left me. Back in the somewhere. You abandoned me. Because you had to. I understood it logically earlier. But I feel it now. I can feel what it’s like to know you have to do something, even if your emotions are telling you to do something else.”

Oh…Saints. He was saying…

“If they can sense me,” M-Bot said, “then I can make them chase me. I might be an abomination, but I am one who can fly on my own now. Choose for myself. And I can show them what an ‘abomination’ can do.”

“No!” I said. “You don’t want to do this, M-Bot!”