Camille saw him, but she was still trying to slow Scream Eagle down and didn’t have time to drop that to increase the gravity around Art.

Plus, again, in this small space, he moved as quickly as Jaclyn would have. She didn’t have time to do anything before he stabbed her with the palm claw in his right hand.

Art’s next move was to dive and roll past Julie, sinking the palm claw of his left hand into her thigh through her armor. As she fell, he turned toward the back of the room where Zola faced Haley, Sydney, Dayton, Daniel, and Jody’s unconscious body.

Well, sort of. Zola had been busy too.

She’d been the one who’d ripped the steel door open, throwing it into the room and stepping in after it, allowing Art to jump over all of it while everyone nearby was too distracted to respond.

Daniel might have been more useful, but his main focus was on removing memories so Jody wouldn’t realize he’d been caught and kill himself.

Haley knew this, reacting before anyone else and charging Zola.

Zola leapt sideways, landing next to Dayton and stabbing him in the side with her palm claw. Dayton punched at her face as the claw entered his body, grazing her cheek as he went down.

That he hit her at all was a testament to his own speed and training, but it was still useless.

Zola didn’t stop moving, jumping toward the table where Daniel stood over Jody, concentrating. She landed on the table, the claws on her feet scratching the surface.

Slashing at Daniel with her right arm, her face wore a wide grin, punctuated with long, pointed fangs.

As the blow came down toward Daniel, he moved and instead of puncturing his armor, Zola’s claws slid across his chest plate, leaving scratches that repaired themselves almost as they appeared.

Daniel didn’t even look up.

Zola began to snarl, but didn’t even get to finish because she’d stayed in one place too long.

Sydney, A.K.A. Railgun, had let loose with a barrage of “rails” (bullets, more or less).

How Zola knew Sydney had fired, I could only guess. Under Sydney’s control, metal moved like water—except when Sydney didn’t want it to. There were no clinks or clanks to hear.

On the other hand, Haley could hear people’s hearts pumping blood through their bodies, and Zola had unknown extra levels of strength, speed, and sensitivity to work with.

Either way, Zola jumped out of the way of Sydney’s burst, cracking the table’s smooth surface as she jumped over the stream of bullets toward Sydney.

The bullets, all of them moving faster than the speed of sound, left holes in the filing cabinet, the wall, and the microwave on the wall of the kitchenette at the far end of the room. I hoped they wouldn’t kill anybody. Given their speed, they’d probably end up in Grand Lake, and it was November and cold—so no one would be waterskiing or fishing either.

Sydney didn’t have the speed to adjust her aim as Zola flew toward her. Zola hit her in the head, bringing down her claws toward Sydney’s neck.

She didn’t get through. Between Sydney’s metal outer shell and the suit I’d designed underneath it, her claws couldn’t reach skin.

Worse for Zola, while Sydney wasn’t quick enough to aim while Zola jumped her, she was quick enough to aim at someone who’d landed on her shoulder.

Zola didn’t wait when she sensed what was coming, jumping off to land behind Sydney’s back. Sydney began to turn, but Zola jumped again. This time, landing back on the table. She leaned in and bit through Daniel’s armor into his bicep.

That’s when I knew we’d synced up with reality because as I stepped through the open window after Scream Eagle, I felt Daniel’s presence and felt him slip into unconsciousness, but as he went, he thought, I think it was close enough.

I wanted to ask more, but it was too late. I’m not sure I’d have had time to discuss it if he’d stayed up.

Somehow, my implant’s recap of the fight hadn’t conveyed the feel of the changes to the room. The armored “glass” around the room had been shattered in all directions. Alarms screeched. The table hadn’t just been scratched, but broken in two. Daniel slumped against the lip of the far end, but Zola had grabbed Jody and flung him over her shoulder.

Haley and Sydney ran toward Zola, jumping over Dayton’s body, only to find that Art had left where Julie lay on the ground. A leap took him halfway across the room to join Zola.

That left me to face Scream Eagle, who turned to face me, the unconscious bodies of Vaughn, Sean, and Camille on the floor around him.

The military look of Scream Eagle’s blue and white armor left me unprepared for his accent. It was either British or fake. “Nice phallic metaphor you’re holding there. Is it new?”

The response demanded a coarse, but funny dick joke. Unfortunately, a lifetime of clean living, martial arts training, and reading technical manuals had not prepared me for that.

I did have something on my mind, though, “You’re called Scream Eagle. I don’t have any records of you screaming. Do you scream? Or… don’t you?”

“Funny you should ask,” Scream Eagle said, “I don’t, but you might.”

Sean’s balls, which had been hanging in the air around Scream Eagle, began to whirr in a familiar circular shape.

The lightning sword threw off sparks in my hand, and despite how difficult it had been to get going, I didn’t feel it much. This struck me as either good or very bad.

Eyeing the flashing metal circle, I said, “I guess I’m going to have to stab you with a metaphor then.”