It's time.
The three Elementalists, Kass, Rai and I, stand beside Eldred at the edge of camp, where Squadron Three are preparing to go. Rows of soldiers stand, eyes sharp and shoulders determined, whilst Paolera paces each line, barking orders so fast it makes my head spin.
'Once Squadron Two reach the gate, we're on stand-by and must be ready at a moment's notice –,'
'As soon as we receive signal from Sergeant Allen of Squadron Four –,'
'Everyone carry out your final checks – all wormhole's must be in complete working order. Any signs of malfunction should be reported immediately –,'
'The hurricanes will be active when we teleport in – remember your training. Staying focused on the Futurists despite the winds is more important than anything else –,'
The longer it goes on, more beads of sweat slowly trickle down the soldiers' brows, freezing on their eyebrows, mingling with snowflakes. Tanner told us they've never been on such a big a mission before. His eyes are unusually bright; if I didn't know better, I'd say he's scared.
Kass stares sternly ahead, his scars making his face stiffer and fiercer than ever. Rai, meanwhile, fiddles absent-mindedly with the filters on his neck as he watches Paolera, Henry perched on his shoulder. A swell of protectiveness floods through me as I look at my boys, both by my side, and on instinct, I grab their hands tight in my own. They turn to me, but I don't look back.
How can I. All I can think of is how glad I am that Musa isn't here too. He's my only boy I've really kept safe.
'A word, please?'
None of us reply. Eldred hovers to our right; I don't know about the boys, but I can't even bare to look at him. It's time we learnt our place. Really, Eldred? Well, if we didn't before, we sure do now.
Eldred huffs. 'You're still annoyed at me? Oh, come on! Look, I never claimed to be good with kids, I said that from the start, didn't I, Puffin?'
Kass snorts, but doesn't answer.
Eldred tuts. 'Well, what can you do. All I've ever done is try and help you, and this is the thanks I get.' He sighs, thoroughly milking his part of playing the martyr. 'It's fine. In time, I'm sure you'll come to understand. Maybe I should feel flattered; it's not like any of you have family to take your tempers out on. If I have to bear the brunt, so be it.'
I swing around, unable to contain myself a second longer. 'Family? You – you think you're our family?'
He smiles his crooked, roguish smile. 'Well, of course. We are a family, aren't we? It takes more than blood to make a family, you know. Lies, secrets, a strong will to protect, loyalty. . . All markers of a pretty normal family, wouldn't you say?'
'What do you want, Eldred?' Kass says flatly. 'We're done talking about family.'
'I came to give you these.' Eldred digs deep in his pockets and withdraws three small, shimmering orbs, similar to the ones Paolera has given us to get to Zlansk. As the only one facing him, I let him tip them into my hands.
'More wormholes?'
'Yes,' Eldred nods. 'You'll need one each. They'll take you to the third capsule, the gamma-cap.'
'Why are you giving us them now?' Rai sets Henry loose and swings from his lower handlebars, so his heels skim the ground. Eldred watches him with an amused expression.
'Just in case. I've got a feeling that things are going to get a little hectic.'
'We don't even know where the third capsule is,' I say.
'It's at the top of Mount Terrebon in Singwari, one of the Counties of Huŏ.'
So close to Singavere. . . 'Okay, but why do we need them now?'
'Because there may not be a later.' Eldred's eyes twinkle. 'I suspect that this battle may go a tad awry, and if it does, I'm not quite sure that even Cotton fully understands what the consequences will be. It may not be possible afterwards for us to simply stroll back to Headquarters and retrieve these wormholes. If something happens to me –,' He pauses, chuckling as I gasp. 'Oh, come now, Samma. I thought you were mad at me? If something happens to me, I'll feel much happier knowing that I've given you the tools you'll need to succeed. Take the wormholes, and keep them safe.'
Stunned, I turn to Kass, holding out an orb to him. Although his shoulders tighten, he takes it and shoves it inside his mohair cloak. I pocket one and turn back to Eldred –
But he's gone.
*
'Right, this is it, Squad Three.' Paolera finally stops pacing, coming to a halt facing the rows of soldiers. We've finished stretching – our chrome armour worn over our black bullet-suits is thin and flexible, allowing plenty of movement. On our backs blaze the RESIST emblem, the bright red 'R' set under a grey '3', our squad number, and we have charcoal-grey balaclavas ready to pull over our faces. Grey and red. The colours of RESIST.
We've each been assigned a soldier for our protection. Mine is Tanner, thank goodness – I like the lean, bespectacled Private. Kass isn't so lucky; he has Marko Dimitrov, well-known in the squad for his bulging muscles, bad temper and dark-grey birthmark on the side of his neck. Rai's got the rather wild Eva Hughes. They stand behind us, a hand on each of our shoulders – whether to be comforting or to stop us escaping, I don't know. We'll teleport with our guards in and out of the fray, slip through the battle and make our way towards the capsule. Hopefully.
All the soldiers have the same expression. Brows set, lips pursed and eyes bright; every fist raised and pressed to their foreheads in a solemn salute, which I've learnt is the RESIST way.
Paolera is the fiercest of all. She emanates power, the will to fight, survive and win. When she brings her fist to her forehead, the chests of her soldiers swell.
'Today, we FIGHT.'
'FOR TELLUS.' The soldiers cry as one, slamming their fists against their foreheads twice.
'Today, we WIN.'
'FOR TELLUS.'
'Today, we show our oppressors that we will be silenced no more, that we will be down-trodden NO MORE. Today, we send a message – that we are coming for you, Futurists, and we are coming for our world. Today, we fight with HONOUR.'
'FOR TELLUS.'
'With DIGNITY.'
'FOR TELLUS.'
'AND –,' Paolera closes her eyes, as though savouring the moment, savouring her words. '– without mercy. An honest victory – no prisoners, no torture – just clean, honest death, and an honest victory.'
'FOR TELLUS!'
There's a minute's silence. Just the rustling of the mist swirling around our ankles. The squad stands, rigid as statues, eyes closed and fists clenched to their brows. Their calm composure makes me feel worse. I'm not ready.
My heart beats its wings against my rib-cage in the desperate hope of escape. But of course, there's no escape. This is coming, whether I like it or not.
I think I've always known that I'm meant for something big. Musa knew, from the day I threw the mist for him to catch to the day he took me to the pool. He's always known. Has always been on my side. But knowing, and being ready, are such different things. But maybe 'being ready' is just a myth. Without knowing the future, how can you really be ready for anything?
Maybe, my courage might have broken. Maybe, I'd try to run for it – if it weren't for the hands I hold in my own, Kass' in my left, Rai's in my right. I squeeze them, a gesture greater than words. That whatever we face, we face together.
Paolera clears her throat. 'It's time. Balaclavas on, and take out your wormholes.' Her grave eyes sail the sea of hands that pull fabric over faces, unzip straps on their arm and pluck out small silvery orbs that sparkle in the burnt-amber sunrise. I drop Rai's hand to fumble my own wormhole, which slides through my fingers, slick with sweat – but his shoulder bumps, reassuring, against mine as he shuffles closer. The balaclava muffles my breathing, scratching my skin with every blink.
Everybody's eyes fall to Paolera, and she thrusts her wormhole into the air; the soldiers cheer. The hopes of Resisters everywhere clutched in our hands.
'Prepare to teleport,' Paolera cries. 'In three. . . two. . . one. . . NOW.'
*
We each have our own, slightly different, coordinates. I pinch the orb, and it seems to melt away – but in reality, it expands, the dark matter inside blooming outwards, ready to consume. I jumped inside, and emerge immediately somewhere new.
The Zlansk base.
The moment my feet touch the ground, I'm buffeted sideways – the winds of the hurricane catching me by surprise. I skid, feet scrabbling against the ground to keep me upright.
Is this really wind? If so, then wind is a beast; it howls as it tears my ears, the screaming, blistering cold biting my cheeks, threatening to rip my skin from my bones. I feel like I'm being stretched to breaking point, trapped inside a swirling kaleidoscope of pinks, purples and greys of every shade. Amethyst, coral, charcoal, lilac, smoke and rose and peach. . .
In a hailstorm of bullets.
Paolera's training kicks in – what to do the second you arrive – and I dive to the ground, shielding my head with my arms. For all the good it will do. . .
'Sammi?'
Squinting through the haze, I just about make out a shadowed figure, crawling towards me on their stomach.
'Kass?!'
'It's Tanner.' Of course. Tanner inches towards me on his elbows. 'The boys are okay, they're at the first shelter point but you got blown off course. I came to get you.'
'How are we doing?'
'Not good – but we surprised them, drawing them off squad two for the moment. I need to get you out of here.'
His rough, calloused hands close around my wrists, pulling me towards him. I scramble to my knees as we slither across the battlefield, Tanner using his body to shield me.
'This is crazy,' I gasp; every inch we push forwards, we're fought against by the wind, blown backwards. 'How are we meant to even stay on our feet?'
'Don't worry, our boots are designed to weigh us down.'
I was only blown a few feet off track; once I've staggered to my feet, Tanner drags me towards the wreckage of an enormous Futurist fighter drone – four times the size of our little Fighters – that lies in a smoking, crumbling heap. We crawl underneath, where, to my relief, a huddle of squad three soldiers are squatting low, arms raised to fend off the winds.
Bullets pelt the fighter drone from all sides until its entire frame shakes . A spark blows above our heads and we duck, covering our heads.
'. . . Tanner?' I whisper.
'EVERYBODY DOWN!'
I flatten myself against the ground as Paolera roars above the racket – Tanner's hand presses my head down into the dirt as he leans over me, firing his gun so fast that with each blast, my body shudders.
My nose to the gravel, I taste snow. And mud.
Then, something hits the metal frame above us – sending the drone blasting into the air in a shower of flames and chunks of debris. A second Fighter, even bigger than our shelter, skids to a halt in front of us, two Futurist soldiers piloting from its back. The mist lights up with flares and sparks as they open fire – bullets ricochet from helmets, debris, the ground – and I freeze, too scared to even blink.
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Then Tanner's arm slips underneath me, wrenches me upright and pulls me along as he runs – I cling to his arm even though it feels wet, so wet. I glance at my hand and my stomach lurches – it's covered in something glistening and red –
'You're hurt!'
'Keep moving,' Tanner grunts, bulldozing someone out of the way with his shoulder and raising his gun once more, another stream of bullets spluttering in front of us. All the while, he's shouting into his ear-piece: 'Paolera, is it time?'
The enemy Fighter crawls forwards, the Futurists on its back rushing back and forth reloading the front blaster, which has begun to glow. A brilliant blue ball of light grows inside it, ready to burst free –
Paolera's voice echoes through Tanner's ear-piece.
'Wormholes ready in three, two, one –,'
For a moment, in my panic, I go blank. My training disappears – but at the last second, my fingers pinch the wormhole of their own accord.
'NOW.'
The blue light blossoms from the blaster towards us – Tanner and I jump into the wormhole – and stagger into a place of silence as the wormhole spins shut behind us. The shadow of an explosion ringing in our ears.
Tanner drops me and I stumble; he leans forwards, hands on his thighs, panting heavily. 'You okay?'
My knees collapse and I sink to the ground. I can hear Tanner calling Paolera – but I cover my eyes, blocking out the world.
Kass and Rai are out there still. And you're cowering? Come on, Samma, get a grip.
My eyes flicker open; Paolera's face swims before me, streaked with dark, rust-coloured smut. She nods, satisfied my eyes are open, and turns to the surrounding soldiers.
'Gather round. Phase one may be complete, but we suffered more casualties than we hoped for. We took out the fighter drone, but squad two are really struggling. We have to help them out; everyone under Lieutenant Frost, I'm releasing you to back them up. Please report to him for new instructions.'
I sit up; I've got absolutely no idea where we are. It's dark, raining full pelt – there's no way we're still in Zlansk, it's too warm.
'Kass? Rai?'
Tanner's beside me in an instant, trying to calm me down, but it's no use. All I can think of is the boys, where they are, if they're alright.
Soldiers are crouched all around me in units, wrapping thick black tape around bullet wounds and bandages around faces. All I can do is desperately try and peer between the flurry of limbs – surely, surely, they're here somewhere.
'Hey!'
I've been searching wrong. I've been looking to the ground. I should have searched the skies.
'Henry!'
A white ball zooms over the crowd towards me, two figures clinging to its back – I cry out in relief as Rai yanks Henry to a stop and jumps down, tearing off his balaclava. Hughes tumbles from Henry's back, groaning.
'Oh my god, oh my god.' I cling to Rai's wrists. 'I thought – I thought –,'
'It's okay.' He pulls me into a hug, then peels off my balaclava. 'Hey, what happened to your face?'
'My face?'
'You're covered in blood!'
'Oh!' I touch my cheek; it's wet, but it doesn't hurt. 'It's not mine. Tanner?'
'I'm here.' Tanner's slumped beside me, as Private Hughes starts dabbing a strong-smelling liquid on his arm. Somewhere along the lines, he's removed his own balaclava and lost his glasses. He looks strangely naked, and horribly young, without them.
'There you are.' A huge soldier, whose rippling muscles seem to burst through his suit, shoves his way to join us, someone squirming under his arm –
'Kass!' Rai bursts out, as Dimitrov dumps Kass unceremoniously by our feet. 'Are you alright?'
'Yeah,' Kass grimaces. Dimitrov tuts, ripping open the sleeve of Kass' suit.
'Idiot got shot,' he grunts in his thick Slavskani accent.
'WHAT?'
Kass shakes his head. 'It was my fault.' He winces as Dimitrov ripped off some black tape with his teeth and begins winding it around Kass' wound, pulling it tight. 'I'm slow and wheezy – bound to happen.'
'It's not deep,' Dimitrov says, zipping Kass' sleeve back up and balancing him between his knees. 'The suit took most of the impact.'
'We go again in five minutes.' Tanner says, glancing nervously at Dimitrov and Hughes. 'This time, we teleport deeper into the heart of the base. Squad four have located the source of the hurricanes, the Futurists are calling it the 'eye'. It's a group of hotspots on the west side, the closest block to the research facility, and obviously, that's where their defences are strongest. Squad two are going to try and draw them east, and then on Paolera's command, we'll teleport to the eye and search for the capsule. It must be around there somewhere.'
'We can't teleport directly to the capsule?' I say, hating the fear that seeps into my voice.
'You know we can't,' Tanner sighs. 'Without the exact coordinates, the wormholes might malfunction. Just be grateful Squad Four got us coordinates for the eye, it's close enough.'
'Wishful thinking.'
'Dimi, Hughes and I will be with you every step of the way,' Tanner continues. 'Paolera will join us too, whilst the rest of the squad cover for us. Whilst we find the capsule, it's their job to stop any of the Futurists reaching you. Brie's team will be with us too but just ignore them. They'll soon teleport away on their own mission.'
'Got it,' Kass mutters. He shoots Rai and I a meaningful look; as soon as Tanner's back is turned, he burrows into his pockets and pulls out two more silvery orbs, shoving them into our hands. 'Hide these, quick.'
'What's this?' I slip mine into the wormhole pouch on my arm. 'Another wormhole?'
'For Brie's mission.'
We blanch. 'She – she agreed!?' Rai stammers.
'Yup.'
Rai frowns. 'How did you get her to say yes?'
Kass bites his lip; I guess he really is in pain. 'Oh, you know. Asked nicely. Hey, Dimitrov, any chance of some pain relief?'
'No, sorry.' Dimitrov is deep in conversation with Tanner and Hughes, and waves his hand vaguely in dismissal. 'Just tough it out. The tape will hold it closed.'
'Great.'
'SOLDIERS?'
Paolera's voice slices the hum of voices like a dagger.
'CAPTAIN,' Tanner, Dimitrov and Hughes bark, pounding their foreheads with their fists.
'Listen to us, and you won't get killed. Capiche?' Dimitrov adds in a growl, grabbing Kass by the shoulder.
We nod.
'Sammi, with me.' Tanner takes my hand.
'TELEPORTATION ON THREE. . . TWO. . . ONE. . .
Tanner and I lock eyes, and I pull my balaclava back on.
'NOW.'
We squeeze our wormholes and leap back into the fray.
*
The west side heaves with bodies –
'MOVE, MOVE, MOVE.'
The moment we land, I'm swept aside by a swarm of squad two soldiers – but this time, Tanner keeps hold of my wrist.
'GUN, SAMMA.'
Three Futurist soldiers drop down from the mist above us, and Tanner dives in front of me, both arms raised and bullets flying. I scrabble in my holster for my gun, but everything's happening too quickly. The guns these Futurists point at us aren't normal – what blasts from the barrel is something like light or heat, and smells like burning.
The Futurists' heads are shielded inside a helmet of blue mesh, their movements easy and fluid even within the storm. One of Tanner's gunshots hits a blue soldier in the face – it ricochets off the mesh, not even causing a dent.
'Nice try,' the Futurist grins. 'Think your balaclava will do the same?'
Tanner ducks, dragging me to the ground and throwing himself over me; I feel the swell of his ribs as he gasps. I don't know why it strikes me now, here, with three enemy soldiers towering over us, weapons at our heads. . . just how young Tanner is. He can't be that much older than me. And here he is, laying down his life to protect me, a girl he hardly knows. Just because he believes. He's ready to die. . . because he believes in me.
My fingers flash white-hot. A tingling sensation streaks through me, and all at once, I become aware of every bone, muscle, tissue and fibre not only my own body but in Tanner's too. The howling winds that heave against us, dragging us slowly into its grasp, aren't just a haze of colour anymore. They're mist, the mist I know better than anything else. An almighty sea of infinite, infinitesimal particles, spinning wildly out of control, that need to be tamed. That need me.
'Tanner?' We can hear Dimitrov calling – but his voice is too far away, he'll never make it in time.
And then I hear: three click – click – clicks. The Futurists fire and bullets hurtle towards us. First, they'll hit Tanner. Then, they'll hit me. . .
I scream.
Louder than I've ever screamed before – a scream that rips my chest, my mouth – I look up and raise a hand, and all of a sudden, my scream turns to laughter.
They think they can kill me? In wind?
Hell. I AM THE WIND.
Before the bullets can hit us, I swish my hand through the air and rip out the winds - I siphon them, drawing them in, sucking them into my outstretched hand like a giant whirlpool. Every particle belongs to me - I spin, twirling the air around us until we're completely surrounded by a white, opalescent mass. The bullets strike the mass, and my hand twists - I clench the particles together and the winds resist. As though hardening. The bullets scatter, unable to break through, falling clink, clink, clink to the ground.
The winds around Tanner and I shiver, pulsing as they wrap tighter around us, cocooning us, as though breathing. As though alive.
I feel them rush through me - part of me - then blast them outwards as hard as I can.
The cocoon explodes, sending a wave rushing towards the Futurists – they shriek as they're flung into the air. I raise my head, to watch as my outstretched arm pushes the wave forwards, to see the Futurists struggle against me as they're forced further and further away. They can't fight. I'm in control now.
Tanner makes a small, choking sound. 'Sammi, that was. . .'
'Let's move.' I help him to his feet. 'What next?'
'I – I can hear Paolera,' he stammers, gesturing to his earpiece. He swallows, working hard to keep composure. 'She says we've drawn a huge proportion of their forces away from the west side; Frost's soldiers have bolstered squad two, but we're still taking huge casualties. We don't teleport again for five minutes.'
'We have to survive this for five more minutes?'
'The closer to the eye we get, the worse it will be,' Tanner murmurs. 'We still need to find the capsule. Sammi, do you think you can hold this – uh – air thing around us?'
'No problem.' My face sets and fists clench. Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply and raise my hands higher, sucking the winds back towards us. The air constricts and I wrap the particles tight back around us, making it harder, thicker, difficult to penetrate.
We walk. And my wind cocoon moves with us.
'The capsule should be around here somewhere. If only we could see better –'
The cocoon shields, a giant, translucent bubble. But it's so thick, we can only vaguely make out shapes outside, everything merging into a blur of evil shadows. Noises sound sluggish, like when you're underwater, but we can just about hear the Futurists shouting:
'Captain, we need backup, we think we found an Elementalist.'
'It's manipulating the hurricane to its advantage –'
'Two people are trapped inside –'
'If we can blast it open – get the Fighters, NOW –'
'It's okay, Sammi,' Tanner growls, slamming more ammo into his gun. 'I won't let them hurt you. You're too important, I – I'll die to protect you. I swear.'
'No one's going to die, Tanner,' I say, wanting to sound strong. It comes out as a whisper.
'We just need to keep looking a little bit longer.'
'It's fine, I can do this –,'
'FIRE!'
An enormous flash of blinding light hurtles towards us and smashes into my cocoon. The impact flings me backwards, my head smacking into something sharp.
There's blackness - then Tanner's by side, propping me up by the shoulders. 'Sammi?'
'Wh-what was that?!'
'FIRE!'
Another flash of light slams into my cocoon; I cry out, feeling the particles I've locked together shudder. Using Tanner's arm, I struggle to my feet, running to touch the front of my cocoon. My fingers stroke along a crack.
'No.'
'What's wrong?' Tanner's eyes widen as chunks of the cocoon starts to disintegrate, dissolving into the air as though they never existed.
'They're breaking it. The weapon they're using – it's so strong.'
I clench my fists, squeezing the winds even tighter around us, feeling like I'm going to burst from the strain. Another beam of light is growing outside – for a fraction of a second, I panic –
'FIRE.'
My wind cocoon breaks.
Tanner and I are instantly hit by the full force of the hurricane and blasted backwards. The winds no longer mine, and this time, they hurl us along the ground, from side to side. I squint through my balaclava; we're surrounded by a royal-blue swarm, a Fighter looming over us. Inside which another ball of light – like a laser – blossoms, the air around it shivering as it prepares to blow.
'NOW!'
Paolera's voice screams through Tanner's earpiece; Tanner throws his arms around me and squeezes the wormhole. We roll through just as the light erupts and disappears, engulfed by the darkness.
We reappear, lying on the cool ground, our chests heaving. Tanner closes his eyes.
'Thank bloody –. Captain, you have no idea how close that was.'
Legs appear between us; I glance up at Paolera, who smiles grimly.
'My timing is impeccable.'
'You have no idea. . .'
I stay on the ground, even as Tanner rises with a groan. Every part of my body feels heavy – so, so tired – but then, someone shakes my shoulders.
'Get up, lazy. We found the capsule. Come on, Sam, move your ass. You think you had it bad? Try being shot.'
'Kass. . .' I mumble, forcing myself upright and cradling my head. 'You. . . are. . . such a dick.'
Kass smirks, wrapping an arm around me. I sigh into his chest, as Rai slumps down beside us and lays his head on my shoulder.
*
We're back wherever we teleported the first time; the darkness is oddly comforting. But we aren't pausing for long. There are so few of us now that I could count us. I don't know if the rest of the squad are dead, or if they've deliberately stayed behind to keep fighting. Honestly, I almost can't bear to know. Kass, Rai and I huddle by a tree stump whilst Tanner, Dimitrov and Hughes put their heads together, whispering furiously. By the sounds of it, we each put our guards through the ringer.
'Henry took me and Hughes for a bit of a rough ride,' Rai said. He's trying to unclip some of the empty water canisters from his back but it doesn't look easy; Henry keeps huddling under Rai's arm, forcing Rai to lean over him at an odd angle. Rai gives up and pats the trembling body sadly, showing us new bullet holes. 'He's pretty traumatised.'
'Hughes must be too. Though, that's what she gets for encouraging you to fly like a maniac,' Kass says. Kass tried to defend himself and Dimitrov with his powers too, but it hadn't gone well. He accidentally smashed a hole in the ground, and although plenty of Futurists fell in, lots of our soldiers did too. He's sweating profusely under his balaclava; he rips it off and flings it aside.
Rai glances at him, looking nervous. Then, to my surprise, he nudges Kass in the ribs. 'Hey. Racer, not a maniac. Racer.' He grins. 'When this is over, I'll take you for a ride. You won't think I'm a maniac then.'
Kass raises an eyebrow. Then, despite himself, cracks a smile. 'Maybe you should.'
'Maybe I will.'
'Ready, you lot? This is our last teleport.' Paolera approaches and claps Dimitrov on the back, who has a distinctly haunted look in his eyes. Together with Tanner and Hughes, they form a circle around us, their hands clasped tightly together. 'Well done for staying alive, you three.' I can't believe how hard her voice sounds, no trace of fear, no emotion other than determination. Reaching under Hughes's arm, she yanks me to my feet with a grip of steel. The boys rise too.
'Even though I messed up?' Kass whispers.
Paolera sighs. 'War is war, Kass. We needed you alive; you stayed alive. That's all that matters right now.'
He scuffs the rocks on the ground with his feet. I think I hear him mumble something about 'collateral'.
'This is it. This teleport will take us directly into the eye. We've managed to narrow down the capsule to one of three locations. I've split the troops into three groups, who will each teleport to different coordinates three seconds before us. Whichever group lands at the right location will radio and we'll join at their coordinates. We'll all have to take the same wormhole, so on my command, we need to jump together. They'll be no three, two, one for us, there's no time. You'll have to jump when I shout now. Understand?'
'Yes, Captain,' we say in unison.
Three more soldiers gather at the edge of the circle. One of them removes her balaclava – it's Brie.
'Room for a few more?'
'Quickly, we're almost out of time.'
Brie and her two soldiers duck into the circle too; it's now extremely cramped. Mine and Kass' foreheads are practically touching.
'Ready?' Paolera calls to the rest of the troops.
'Yes, Captain.'
'LIEUTENANTS SIDANA, SCHNEIDER AND TONG. READY ON MY COMMAND. TELEPORT IN THREE. . . TWO. . . ONE. . .
'NOW.'
There are three flashes of darkness, and suddenly, we're the only group left. The rest of the soldiers have disappeared with their lieutenants – we now only have three seconds.
Three seconds. . .
Two seconds. . .
One second. . .
'Captain!'
Lieutenant Schneider's voice howls through Paolera's earpiece.
'NOW.'
And as one, we jump.