Scud. He was obviously way better at thinking like a spy than I was. “Smart,” I said. “Do that instead.”

I climbed down the steps to the second of the three floors of the building. The rooms here all appeared to be sleeping quarters that had hastily been set up with beds of the type Alanik’s species used. Cushioned with a bed frame that was shaped kind of like a nest, pillows all around the outside. I found one room with large tubs and a closet that had all kinds of ropes and other equipment, which I assumed could be affixed to the ceiling hooks if rooms needed to be transformed to accommodate some form of arboreal species. I’d seen several of those on the streets.

“Food ordered,” M-Bot said. “I got the ingredients raw, as I figure you’d rather make it yourself than trust what you’re being given.”

“You know me too well.”

“I’m programmed to notice behavior,” M-Bot said. “And speaking of that . . . Spensa, I’m worried about some aspects of this plan. We don’t know what the test to become a Superiority pilot will entail—there are very few details in the information Cuna left.”

“I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow. Passing a flight test is, I think, the least of our problems. At least that I can do without needing to fake my way through it.”

“A valid point. But sooner or later, Alanik’s people are going to grow concerned about the fact that she’s not reporting back to them. They might contact the Superiority and ask what happened to her.”

Great. As if I needed more stress about this mission. “Do you think we could find a way to send a message to Detritus?” I asked. “We could relay my status to Cobb and have him ask Alanik—if she wakes up—to contact her people for us?”

“That would be convenient,” M-Bot said. “But I have no idea how to make it happen.”

“Then why are you bringing all this up?” I snapped.

“I’m not trying to argue with you or make you upset, Spensa,” M-Bot said. “I’m just pointing out realities as I see them. We’re in the middle of something very dangerous, and I want us to be fully aware of potential complications.”

He was right. Arguing with him was like punching a wall—something that I, admittedly, was capable of doing during my more frustrated moments. That didn’t change the truth.

I explored the bottom floor quickly, and confirmed it was a collection of meeting rooms. After that, I climbed back up to the third floor and the kitchen, which had a window looking out along the street. It seemed so peaceful, with those gardens and people going lazily about their business.

Don’t trust their peace, I thought at myself. Don’t show weakness. Don’t let down your guard. I’d been met with nothing but lies since I’d landed here—people pretending they weren’t part of some enormous war complex bent on destroying Detritus. I knew the truth.

I picked up the tablet and scanned the information Cuna had left about the test. As M-Bot had said, there weren’t a lot of details. There was going to be some kind of mass tryout for the piloting program. Most of those invited were already members of the Superiority—lesser races with secondary citizenship, normally not allowed to serve in the military.

Cuna had specifically reached out to Alanik’s people for some reason, inviting them to send a representative. According to these details, I was supposed to bring my own ship and be ready for combat. The document said that if I passed the test, I’d be given a Superiority starfighter and would be trained to fight delvers.

A Superiority starfighter would mean Superiority technology. Hopefully a Superiority hyperdrive. I could secretly rip the hyperdrive out of the starfighter, then install it in the space M-Bot had for one. And then the two of us could zip home.

This was my only way forward; the only way forward for my people. And maybe, somewhere along the way, I could learn more about what I was—and why the delvers were so interested in cytonics.

If the Superiority is preparing a weapon to fight the delvers, I thought, this mission could be even bigger—and more important—than we assumed.

I had to do it. Isolated or not, untrained or not, I had to make this work. Jorgen said he trusted me. I had to show myself the same level of trust.

It began with what I knew best. A piloting test.

13

The next day, after a night of fitful sleep, I settled Doomslug in the bedroom on an old blanket from my cockpit, then climbed into M-Bot and lifted him up off the embassy roof. The piloting test was to take place about a half hour’s flight from Starsight, out in space. The details that Cuna had left indicated the coordinates.

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