It was late. The stars were out in full force.
But Conner wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. He sat there in his chair at the cadet study center, staring at the satellite feed of Wilkins’s battle with the Ursa, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
But all he saw was the Ursa cutting through Wilkins and the others with appalling speed and ferocity. There was blood, so much of it that Conner felt his stomach start to betray him. There were silent screams of horror and pain. There were mangled heaps of flesh and exposed bone where there had been whole human beings seconds earlier.
I don’t get it, he thought. It should have worked. The Ursa should have been dead, and the Rangers should all have been alive to celebrate their victory. It should have worked.
But it had gone wrong.
He remembered what Wilkins had told him the day of the war games about his talents as a strategist. She wasn’t one to throw around compliments. She had been impressed with him, with what he could do.
And what had he done? He had gambled with the lives of good men and women so that he could show everyone that he was right. And those good men and women, all of them experienced Rangers, had paid for his arrogance with their lives.
Suddenly he didn’t feel so talented anymore.
So what are you going to do? he asked himself. Wallow in self-pity? Or figure out what went wrong?
There was only one answer to that question.
There was no point waiting any longer.
If Lyla had had years to perfect her handheld F.E.N.I.X. weapon or even months, it might have been a different story. But she didn’t have that long, so she had to show the Savant’s deputy what she had accomplished so far.
Vincenzo’s image floated in front of Lyla on a holographic screen. “All right,” she said, sounding even more tired than the last time they had spoken, “what have you got?”
Lyla bit her lip and sent the file. “As you can see, I’ve addressed the areas you were concerned about.”
Vincenzo examined the contents of the file. She took her time, too, just as she had before. Finally, she looked up at Lyla and said, “This is better. Much better.”
Much better was a start.
“You’ve taken care of the shielding issue, though I didn’t think you could.”
Yes, I have.
“You’ve put in more superconductors. And you’ve simplified the reaction sequence. Not bad.”
There was only one problem. Lyla figured it would be better to get it out in the open now than to give the Savant time to find it for herself. “There’s a glitch in the scythe function,” she said.
Vincenzo glanced at her. “What kind of glitch?”
Lyla wished she had found a way around it. She had tried several different approaches, but none of them had worked. Therefore, as much as she wished it were otherwise, there was only one thing she could say.
“It makes the device explode.”
Vincenzo’s eyes narrowed. “Explode?”
Reluctantly, Lyla nodded. “Completely. The fusion chamber remains intact, but the metal components go flying apart exactly ten seconds after the scythe function is activated.”
“That’s some glitch.”
Lyla swallowed. “I was thinking that even without the scythe function, the device would still be useful. Certainly a lot better than what the Rangers use now.”
“That may be,” the Savant’s deputy said. “But if they touch the wrong stud …” She didn’t have to complete the sentence to make her point. “Can’t you just leave out the scythe function from the design?”
“It’s not the scythe function per se,” Lyla said. “The pressure is the problem. If it wasn’t the activation of the scythe that triggered it, it would be the activation of something else.”
“I see,” said Vincenzo. She didn’t sound sanguine about it.
If only Lyla had had more time. Or more experience. Or more … something. She knew the problem could be fixed. She just didn’t know how to do it yet.
“I can’t authorize the production of a weapon that might explode in the hands of the Ranger using it,” said Vincenzo. “Sorry.”
So am I, Lyla thought.
Conner pounded the table and felt it shiver under the force of the blow.
He had gone over the satellite feed for what seemed like the thirtieth time, gone over every last detail from every possible computer-generated angle. But he still couldn’t see the flaw in his plan.
Norman had done exactly what she was supposed to do. Exactly. But the Ursa had detected her approach. Why? What had Conner done that she hadn’t?
He forced himself to keep his eyes trained on the screen, to keep on tormenting himself. A hundred times more, if necessary. A thousand. He owed it to those who had died depending on him.
And then he saw it.
Conner pushed himself away from the table. He had sat there for so long that his eyes felt scoured with sand. But it was worth it.
He had been right.
His plan had been sound. It was just the execution that was flawed. It wasn’t me. He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh, feeling as if the weight of the entire planet had been lifted from him. It wasn’t me.
Not that he was celebrating. How could he when Wilkins and two other Rangers had died trying to carry out his scheme? But he knew now that he could follow the same strategy and make it work. And if it did, that first squad wouldn’t have died for nothing.
He would ask for another shot.
But this time, he wasn’t going to let someone else lead the mission. He was going to do it himself.
Conner stood in front of Tariq Lennon’s desk and waited for a reaction to his proposal.
“A squad,” said Lennon.
“That’s right, sir,” Conner said.
“So you can attempt to execute your plan again. Except this time you’re going to be the one giving the orders.”
“That’s correct, sir.”
Lennon scowled. “Forget it.”
Conner bit the inside of his lip. “I’m telling you, sir, it will work this time.”
“It was supposed to work the last time, and we know how that turned out. You made a mistake, Raige. Accept it and move on.”
“There was a mistake, sir,” Conner said, “but it wasn’t mine. It was Prime Commander Wilkins’s.”
“I see,” said Lennon. “Let’s blame it on the Prime Commander.”
“Sir, if you’ll look at the satellite footage—”
“I have. And there’s nothing there that makes me want to change my mind.”
“Sir, I’ve analyzed what happened out there step by step. I know what went wrong, and if I’m in charge, I can make it go right.”
“You,” said Lennon, an unmistakable note of disdain in his voice. “A cadet. You can make it work where the head of the entire United Ranger Corps couldn’t.” He made a sound deep in his throat. “I’d heard you were full of yourself, Raige, but this … this goes beyond arrogance.”
“It’s not about me, sir,” Conner insisted. “It’s about getting rid of the Ursa. I can do it—if you give me the chance.”
Lennon shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. At least not on my watch. You’re dismissed, Cadet.”
Conner felt the anger building inside him, threatening to consume him. But it wasn’t going to do him or anyone else any good if he lashed out at Lennon. He clamped his teeth together as best he could and left the office.
As far as Lennon was concerned, Conner had gotten his chance and had blown it. It didn’t look like he would get another one.
At least not from Lennon.