Standing over her friend, Mother faced a much larger machine, winged, deadly, striving to escape the net. She fired her museum-piece chain gun until it rattled empty, seven rounds. They didn’t even scratch it.

She instantiated a GTG missile; while it was warming up, she checked Reckall with an extensible sensor array. What she saw startled and delighted her; this time, the helmet was not empty. A man was in it, alert, concentrating on something. There was no sign of free oxygen around the suit; despite its damage it was keeping him alive.

“Mother, don’t fire,” Ishikawa commanded. “We need to capture the shuttle, not destroy it.”

“Yes, sir.” She messaged the missile; “Priority 1, disarm.” There was no reply. She had direct control of the launcher; she locked it. This, then, was her release.

The explosion ripped the top off the tunneler.