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slipped through into the dimly lit lobby, prompting the beverage machine to blurt another round of commercial jingles. Nimbus coalesced at Mike’s eye level, taking the form of a translucent, lavender-glowing air serpent.

“There you are,” said Mike. “Thanks for your help, back there.”

“Miguel Santos, it was my pleasure to aid in your escape,” said Nimbus.

They made their way to the elevator, and back up to the empty room. Once they were inside, Mike latched the door closed. Nimbus flew slowly to the corner nearest the sliding window and landed next to a power outlet.

From the darkest corner, a voice said, “You forgot your groceries.”

Mike and Torsha jumped back, ready to fight. Nimbus assumed the form of a four-legged clockwork spider and hurried to join his friends.

“Easy now,” said the visitor. He pushed a button on a handheld device, and the overhead lights switched on. “We’re on the same team.”

“Papá?” said Mike.

“You two were not easy to find,” said Martin. “Those were two of my best trackers, by the way. If they hadn’t picked you up coming out of this building, I don’t think I ever would’ve found you.” He stepped over a row of grocery bags to embrace his son. “Is there a German word for proud and frustrated?”

“My German’s not that good,” said Mike, and he returned the embrace. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d like you both to join me,” said Martin, and he explained how he set up denshi-tengu doppelgängers for Orin’s friends and family, as well as his plans to rescue Orin from the starship Watchtower. “After Orin’s safely back on Rhyon, he’ll join us at my Cavern Lake property. We’ll figure it out from there.”

“Papá, Fox Mendes is a military ship,” said Mike. “Using her to attack a BICOM vessel could be seen as an act of war! Our status as a nation-diaspora is shaky at best. There are plenty of political bodies at odds with us, and they’d jump at the chance to delegitimize Falcon.”

“Our diplomatic ties run deep enough to weather it.” Martin furrowed his brow. “I thought you’d be happy about this.”

“I’m grateful for what you’re willing to do for Orin, but at the very least you should send mercenaries to make first contact,” said Mike. “Since they’re civilians, you could set it up as a civil matter, and it’d be easy enough to argue Fox Mendes was only providing transport services.”

Martin chuckled. “You’re a gifted strategist, mijo, but it’s too late for that now.”

“What do you mean?”

“The last supply ship leaves tomorrow morning. Fox Mendes is gone after that,” said Martin.

Mike slumped. “Papá,” he muttered, and he shook his head. “You’re risking our national identity to do this.”

Martin draped his arm across his son’s shoulder. “Orin’s family. Nothing’s more important than family.” He turned around and scooped up several grocery bags. “Grab the rest and follow me. It’s a long flight to Cavern Lake.”

As Martin pulled open the door, Mike leaned toward Nimbus and whispered, “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Torsha grabbed the remainder of the grocery bags as Mike and Nimbus discussed. She followed Martin out into the hall and asked, “Why do we need these? Is your Cavern Lake property low on food? And where is Cavern Lake, anyway? I know you said Klettastrond, but I can’t remember where that is on the map, exactly. It’s one of those tiny countries, right?”

Martin patiently answered all her questions.

It wasn’t long before Mike and Nimbus emerged. All four made their way out of the reclamation plant, and Martin led them to his sky car. She had the look of a panther, jet black with a pair of lengthy thruster nacelles set flush against the dorsal fuselage. Martin entered the cockpit, and the others climbed in the back. Martin soon taxied out onto the sky lot’s runway, and he rocketed high up into the air.

As Torsha rifled through a bag of snacks, Nimbus quietly dispersed. On alert, she sat upright and glanced around the passenger compartment. “Mike, where did Nimbus go?”

“He’ll be right back,” said Mike.

“He’s supposed to be right here,” she said.

Mike nodded and opened a water bottle. He took a long pull and released a satisfied sigh. “Nothing beats good old-fashioned water, sometimes. So refreshing!”

Torsha squinted at him. “You’re up to something.”

“I thought you realized that back at the room,” said Mike. “Wasn’t that why you were asking my dad all those questions?”

“No,” said Torsha. She thought to say more but glared suspiciously instead.

Mike leaned forward, speaking just loud enough to be heard. “I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“Since my dad won’t send any mercenaries, we need to be the ones to make first contact with the crew of Watchtower. We’ll need to find a way to sneak aboard that transport ship headed up to Fox Mendes. Will you help me?”

Torsha shrugged. “Do you even know where the transport ship is docked?”

“Falcon has a hangar at Valley of Light,” said Mike. “They support every starship in this system out of there. That’s where the supply ship will be, I know it.”

Quietly, she cleared her throat. “I can’t help you with that.”

Mike looked puzzled. “Why not?”

“I’ve never been off Rhyon before,” said Torsha. “Never!”

“There’s a first time for everything,” said Mike.

Torsha looked at her shoes. “Not for this.”

Mike regarded her compassionately. “Are you an astrophobe?”

“Gross,” said Torsha.

Mike smirked. “That’s an irrational fear of outer space.”

Torsha glanced up at him. “Oh. Maybe. No, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t know. I can’t even imagine myself floating around like that without making myself queasy.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” said Mike. “Fox Mendes has full-time artificial gravity. It’ll be like you never left Rhyon.”

She fretted as she weighed her decision. “We’re stopping a war, right?”

“Preventing one, technically,” said Mike.

“All right, I’ll do it,” she said. “But how are we supposed to reach the starport in time?”

“We’ve got it covered,” said Mike, just as Nimbus reformed on the bench, returning to the shape of a four-legged clockwork

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