“MILA? MILA.”

No answer.

There’s no way to know how long I’ve been hovering here, tapping away, trying to hack the system. It’s no use. There’s no question this is the console for the spacenet—and I’m never getting in. The luminous green letters blink defiantly, mocking my futile attempts at access. I slam my fist on the console. The screen flickers. It’s not so sturdy. What would Vedmak do? He’d tear it apart—with his bare hands.

For Evgeniy—adrenaline electrifies my every muscle fiber.

For Nikolaj—every buried emotion and memory floods to the surface.

For Denni—I raise my fists above my head.

For Mila—I slam them down like a hammer.

The console splits. Blue arcs of electrons spew out and fizzle across the surface. The images on the screens flicker. I roar loud and long, slamming my fists down again and again. With each attack, the console buckles a little more.

Fist-shaped marks now pattern the metalwork. My hands don’t hurt, until I look at them. Then the throbbing comes.

The screens are now black. Metallic and plastic innards hang from the deep wounds like the entrails of a disemboweled animal. I yank at them, ripping wires, capacitors, and other components from within the belly of the console.

My shoulders heave with my heavy breathing. If nothing else, I may have delayed the Leader. I make for the door back into the corridor. My hands rest on the lip of the portal, but I pause and glance behind. Nikolaj’s namesake lies perfectly still, its arm outstretched, against the bulkhead. It looks as if it’s reaching out to me for help. I swallow hard and turn away, then power into the tunnel and toward the disk.