RELEASING THE HATCH, I pull myself into a tunnel. Rung by rung, the steel cold beneath my hands, I reach the portal into the giant wheel. There’s an opening like a doorway here. Around it are yellow-and-gray-striped markers and a simplistic picture of a stick man being cut in half by the rotating inner disk. My lips purse. Don’t share the same fate as the stick man.

The portal opens for just a few seconds at a time. Inside the disk there’s movement, but before I can analyze it further, the window closes and I must wait again. Not long enough to really see anything. I wait for the next opening, and when it arrives, I count out the seconds until it closes. Almost six seconds. I can make it.

I tap my ear. “Demitri, where are you on figuring that stuff out?”

The earpiece buzzes and I hear Demitri sigh. “It’s not good. I have no idea where to start with this antiquated junk.”

“I need you to figure it out. If the Leader fires that thing, it’s all over. You have to shut down the connection.”

“I know. I just have no idea where to start.”

“We don’t have time for you to figure it out. I’m about thirty seconds away from making direct contact with the Leader. He’s probably going to kill me, so do it and get down here.”

“Mila.” He sounds exasperated. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m going in.” I tap my earpiece again.

The disk is about halfway through the rotation. If I time this right, it could put me right on top of the Leader. What are my odds? Don’t think about it. Just go.

The doorway slides open. I push off the wall to pass through the opening, but my momentum slows as my body crosses the threshold. Weight like a thousand pounds of water pours down on me. Every bone in my body, every fiber of muscle feels as though it’s been filled with lead. “What’s going on?” I gasp, and slump to the floor.

“Gravity,” a voice echoes across the vast interior of the disk. “It’s a little hard to transition back quickly, especially once you’ve been free from it.”

Rows of glowing consoles line either wall. The pathway inside the disk arcs ahead of and behind me. I crane my neck to see yet more consoles on what to me looks like the ceiling – but to anyone standing there, I’d be the one who was upside down. Look forward, Mila. Focus on what you know.

Some three meters away, two pairs of Creed magboots face me. In this room the artificial gravity removes the need for them, and the sheer weight of the boots will slow the geminoids. My advantage. The robotic soldiers stand there staring, their faces perfect blank masks. They aren’t armed. They didn’t expect a fight up here, and even if they did, they couldn’t fire their energy weapons in this place.

Behind them stands the tall silver-haired Leader, engaged at one of the consoles. He stops what he’s doing long enough to remove a small translucent mouth cup from a pouch and snap it into place under his nasal breather. He checks that the nasal apparatus is secure and, otherwise ignoring me, continues tapping away at a frenetic speed.

“You can’t do this.”

A small laugh echoes in the vast space. The Leader speaks without diverting his attention from the console. “I will give you credit. You’re bold for such an insignificant and inferior little creature. I don’t know how you figured out what I was doing, much less that I was going to do it from up here. It took me a moment to realize you were the same one I saw in Kapka’s dungeon. But what you don’t yet understand is I can do whatever I choose, and you are nothing more to me than a resilient little insect.”

“Not if we stop you.” Come on, Demitri.

“We? Oh, you brought someone with you. That fool child, Demitri, perhaps? Where is the little coward hiding?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Don’t waste my time, then. My Creed will make short work of you.”

“I’m not afraid. We’ve destroyed hundreds of them by now.”

“But not these. These two are my personal guard. You don’t stand a chance, surface dweller.” He nods at the Creed. “Squeeze the life out of this wretch. Then find the traitor. Try not to make a mess with them.”

“Affirmative,” the Creed chime in unison. “Initiating close-quarter combat and elimination protocols.”

I jump to my feet and drop my strong side back slightly. They come for me, moving faster than I thought possible, utilizing some advanced protocol the others don’t have. Pain compliance is useless here. I have to go straight for the kill shot.

The first Creed lunges in with a strike that attempts to take my head off. Sidestepping, I kick low, as hard as I can, to steal the balance from its front leg, then kick into its other leg and drive the full weight of my shoulder into its center. As it falls, I fall with it, ensuring the felled Creed is between me and the other one. Pulling my blade, I drop down upon the creature now flailing like a baby. My knife pierces it through the eye portal, and the creature jerks to a stop.

I rise and deflect a thrusting kick from the other one. Closing quickly, it grabs for me. I leap forward and slam both knees into the Creed’s chest, even as it wraps me in a crushing embrace. But I’m right where I want to be—front and center. Securing the back of the robot’s neck, I look deep into the depths of the Creed’s empty eyes and drive my knife through the floor of its chin and into its skull, silencing it. I ride the thing to the ground, execute a forward roll, and rise to my feet, casually spinning my knife back and forth in my hand. It took me less than thirty seconds to fell his best.

The Leader refuses to look at me. His gaze remains focused on the control panel—and yet his jaw is set, the muscles of his neck flexing as his breath hisses through pristine clenched teeth.

I touch my ear. “Any time now would be great, Demitri.”