But others were ready. Silhouetted against the rising moon, four veterans stood in front of the greenhorns. Michael and Magnolia were flanked by Edgar Cervantes and Alexander Corey, two of the three surviving members of the USS Zion team. Alexander’s wife, Eevi, had also lived through the Zion’s epic sea battle but was now an ensign on Discovery.
X moved closer for a better look at the four veterans who had taken the leadership mantle of Teams Raptor, Angel, Phoenix, and Wolf. They all looked skyward for the airship being piloted by Timothy.
“Captain on deck!” someone shouted.
Les ran out in uniform, apologizing for being late. If he had his way, he would take them all on a machine-hunting mission. But X knew from experience that a mission of revenge, especially with so many rookie divers, was a sure recipe for mistakes—and unnecessary deaths.
He knew because he had seen it happen many times before.
If anyone was going, it would be the vets and perhaps a small handful of the best new divers. Tonight, X would learn who the standouts among the greenhorns were. They weren’t diving through the fluffy white clouds of the Vanguard Islands, either. They would be tested in a way they have never been tested before.
X had approved the mission even though he wasn’t sure they were ready, because he had no choice. The only way to get them ready was to throw them in the meat grinder—the same thing the Cazadores did by sending their trainees to an island they called the proving grounds.
The whir of the airship made a gradual crescendo, and he could make out a red light blinking in the sea of stars. X remained in the shadows, unseen by the divers and captain. He would’ve liked to be out there giving them all a talk before this important dive, but that was no longer his role and would undercut Michael and the other commanders.
Still, X wanted more than anything to join them. Just thinking of torpedoing through the clouds warmed his blood.
A voice spun him about to face the darkness of the forest. His sword flashed.
“Easy, man,” said a familiar voice. “I got enough scars.”
X lowered the blade but didn’t sheathe it as the figure approached, hands up. The man stepped into the drip of moonlight, revealing a bearded face, glasses, and a grin.
“Rodger,” X said. “What are you doing here?”
“Watching, like you. I always worry about Mags.”
X sheathed the sword and turned back as the airship lowered over the forest. Discovery wasn’t even a tenth the size of the airship that the Cazadores had mounted atop an oil rig and turned into the Sky Arena and gardens, but it still made the ground tremble when its feet touched down on the dirt pad.
The launch-bay doors hissed open, and a ramp extended downward. Michael gestured with his robotic arm for the divers to follow him inside.
X resisted a powerful urge to move, as if a force were tugging him to join the divers and plummet through the unending chaos of the storms.
“I hope they all make it back,” he said.
X unsheathed his sword again, this time handing it to Rodger.
“Hold this for me,” he said.
Rodger took the sword and looked at it, clearly at a loss what to do with it.
“X… what are you doing?”
“Going where I belong. Tell Miles to hold down the fort while I’m gone,” he said with a grin. “He’s sleeping in my quarters.”
“Wait…” Rodger reached out, but X was already running toward the retracting boarding ramp.
“Hold up!” X yelled.
The turbofans kicked up a cloud of dirt that formed a hazy halo around the landing zone. X covered his face with a sleeve.
“wait!” he yelled.
The airship began to pull up.
A rear thruster fired, and the ship moved toward the edge of the rooftop. X ran after it, still shouting and partially shielding his eyes from the gusting wind.
Someone must have heard his voice, because the ramp stopped retracting and started to extend back down. But the ship continued to move, as if whoever had heard his shout hadn’t gotten the message to the captain.
X ran harder, and when he was under the platform, he jumped and grabbed for the ramp. His fingers closed around the metal bar at the end. The airship pulled over the side of the roof and rose into the sky with X dangling from the retracting ramp.
When it was just shy of disappearing fully into the ship and squeegeeing X off into the sea, it stopped, and a diver scrambled over from the launch bay. X looked up to see Michael’s frowning face.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Michael said.
“Just pull me up!” X yelled over the turbofans’ loud racket. His sandaled feet kicked for traction against the hull, but he couldn’t reach it.
Discovery rose higher into the air, leaving the capitol tower behind. A glance down revealed a black desert of water, and it occurred to X that this would be one stupid freaking way to die.
“Come on!” he yelled.
Michael grabbed him and yanked him up and onto the platform, ripping his shirt. Magnolia took his other arm and helped him to his feet.
Together, they retreated inside the launch bay as the doors sealed shut.
Panting, X nodded at Michael and then Magnolia. “Thanks for the help,” he said.
Magnolia took off her helmet. “You just love to keep testing that whole ‘Immortal’ crock, don’t you?”
“No one said anything about you coming,” Michael added.
“Because I wasn’t planning on it—sort of a last-second decision.”
When X turned away from them, every eye in the launch bay was on him. All the new divers, Cazadores included, wore the same confused look.
Even Alfred, the lead technician, had stopped working on Cricket. X avoided the curious gazes and looked at his locker.
But he wasn’t here to dive.
The hatch to the room opened, providing a welcome distraction as Les reentered the launch bay. He looked as baffled as everyone else.
“Sir, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Decided to come along and watch,” X said.
Les paused, then said, “Suit yourself. We’re climbing to thirty thousand feet and heading to the drop zone. Should be there in twenty minutes. The ship and rescue craft are already in position to make sure it all goes smoothly.”
“Good,” X said. “I’ll meet you on the bridge soon.”
“Okay,” Les said in a tone almost of resignation. He turned away, and X noticed how thin he looked from the side. It wasn’t just his normally confident voice that had diminished. He had lost more weight despite having access to more nutrition than ever before in his life. X hated seeing the man like this, but there was nothing to be done. He had to grieve in his own way.
The hatches closed behind the captain, leaving X with the divers and technicians. Alfred finished up on Cricket and moved to help Alberto and Hector with their wrist computers. The Cazadores weren’t familiar with the technology.
Another tech helped Sofia with her booster pack. Arlo was still stuffing his long, curly hair into his helmet. Lena, the quiet former militia enforcer turned Hell Diver, held the helmet for him while he muttered profanities.
X couldn’t even really remember what he was like at their age. That was half a lifetime ago and seemed even longer. He watched them from afar, studying their tense features.
Arlo had been a good friend of Trey Mitchells and had joined up after his death. He finished getting his hair tucked away, and there was the trademark rakish grin as he flirted with Lena who was still holding his helmet. He brushed back a lock of her hair to whisper something in her ear that made her smile.