If the Jungle was a "Green Hell," then the preparation for the Star-Nest was a "Special Kind of Purgatory."
The Union had returned to Vance's Landing with the Emerald Seed tucked safely in a crate marked Fragile: Do Not Eat. Now, the lobby of the Spire had been converted into what Elara called "The Cape Canaveral of the Stone Age."
"Okay, listen up!" Elara shouted over the sound of a pneumatic drill. She was wearing a lab coat over her leather pants and had three pencils stuck in her hair. "We have the Land Key. We have the Sea Key. But the Sky Key is 200 miles straight up. And as Zev pointed out, there is no air up there."
"And no snacks!" Zev added, hanging from a chandelier. "I checked the upper atmosphere yesterday. Very cold. Very boring. 0/10 stars."
"That's why we're building the Griffin-Pressure-Sled," Elara pointed to a skeletal frame of lightweight titanium and carbon fiber. "It's airtight, shielded against radiation, and powered by the Sun-Stone. But the pilots—that's you three—need to be ready for the G-force."
The Centrifuge of Shame
Training began with "The Spinny Chair of Death." Elara had rigged an old industrial turbine to a cockpit seat.
"The goal," Elara explained, "is to get used to your blood moving to your feet while your head stays in the clouds. Kaelen, you're first."
The Lion Alpha stepped into the seat, looking skeptical. "I have fought leviathans. I have smashed droids. I am not afraid of a chair that rotates."
"Famous last words," Roric whispered, leaning against the wall.
Elara flipped the switch.
WHIRRRRRRR.
The chair began to spin. At 2 Gs, Kaelen was smiling. At 4 Gs, his cheeks began to flap in the wind. At 6 Gs, his face looked like a golden pancake being stretched by a giant invisible hand.
"I... AM... THE... SUUUUUUNNNNNN!" Kaelen bellowed, his voice trailing off into a high-pitched gurgle.
"Shut it down!" Elara yelled.
The chair slowed. Kaelen sat there for a moment, his eyes pointing in two different directions. He stood up, took one step, and immediately fell into a decorative potted plant.
"The room... is untrustworthy," Kaelen informed the plant.
"Next!" Elara called out.
Roric fared better, mostly because he closed his eyes and entered a meditative trance. When he stepped off, he only stumbled once before regaining his cool. Zev, however, loved it.
"AGAIN! AGAIN!" Zev shrieked as he spun so fast he became a bronze blur. "IT'S LIKE A WHIRLPOOL BUT WITH AIR! I AM THE GOD OF DIZZINESS!"
The Space Suit Fitting
The next hurdle was the suits.
"We need a vacuum seal," Elara said, holding up a roll of heavy-duty duct tape and some reinforced polymer fabric. "Kaelen, we have to shave a small patch of your fur around your neck to get a proper seal for the helmet."
Kaelen froze. He clutched his mane as if she had suggested beheading him. "You wish to... shave... the Lion?"
"Just a little bit, Kaelen! For safety!"
"No! My power is in the fluff! Without the mane, I am just a very large, angry dog! I refuse!"
"Kaelen, do you want to explode in the vacuum of space?"
"...Which patch?" Kaelen grumbled, tears welling in his eyes.
After an hour of delicate barbering and a lot of duct tape, the Alphas were suited up. They looked like a cross between 1960s cosmonauts and high-fashion gargoyles.
Zev's suit was the most complex. Because he was the "engine," his wings had to be encased in flexible, pressurized sleeves that allowed him to flap in the thin air of the stratosphere before the Sun-Stone thrusters took over.
"And the tassels?" Zev asked, wiggling his sleeves.
Elara sighed and attached two long, silver-foil streamers to his wingtips. "There. Now you're a Shooting Star."
"I am magnificent," Zev whispered, admiring his reflection in a dark monitor.
The Final Check
The night before launch, the four of them sat on the roof of the Spire, looking at the white dot in the sky.
"The Star-Nest," Roric said, his voice quiet. "My people have stories of it. We called it the 'Eye of the Watcher.' We thought it was a god looking down on us."
"It's just an old research station, Roric," Elara said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Built by people like me. But it's been taken over by the Null-Energy. The 'Sky-Eater' the Matriarch mentioned... it's probably a rogue maintenance AI."
Kaelen sat on her other side, his freshly shaved neck-patch covered by a stylish scarf Elara had made him. "If the Sky-Eater tries to eat us, I will show it that the Lion is not a snack."
"We're a team," Elara said, taking their hands. "Land, Sea, and Sky. We've come this far. We aren't stopping until the Rift is closed."
Launch Day: Houston, We Have a Lion
The morning of Chapter 24's finale was clear and blue. The "Griffin-Sled" was perched on a rail system that ran up the side of the Spire.
"Everyone in!" Elara commanded.
The cockpit was cramped. Kaelen was in the back (the 'Heavy Cargo'), Roric was in the middle ('Navigation/Tactics'), and Elara was in the front ('The Brains'). Zev was harnessed to the front of the craft like a majestic, feathered jet engine.
"Zev, remember," Elara's voice came through the comms. "Start with a standard ascent. Once the air gets thin and your wings lose lift, I'm going to engage the Sun-Stone. That's when the 'kick' happens."
"I am ready for the kick!" Zev shouted. "I have eaten three Twinkies for maximum energy!"
"Three? Zev, you're going to—"
"LAUNCHING!"
Zev took off.
The Sled shot up the rail, G-force slamming Elara back into her seat. They cleared the Spire in seconds, soaring over the ruins of the city, over the Jungle, heading straight for the blue ceiling of the world.
"Altitude 30,000 feet!" Elara yelled. "Looking good!"
"I... cannot... feel... my... toes!" Kaelen managed to groan.
"That's normal! Probably!"
At 60,000 feet, the sky turned a deep, dark purple. The curve of the planet became visible. Zev's flapping slowed. He was gasping for air.
"Air... getting... crunchy..." Zev wheezed.
"Engaging Sun-Stone! Hang on!"
Elara slammed the lever forward.
VROOOOOOOOM.
A beam of pure golden light erupted from the base of the sled. The craft stopped being a glider and became a rocket.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!" the three Alphas screamed in unison.
They punched through the final layer of the atmosphere. The blue sky vanished, replaced by the infinite, terrifying blackness of space.
And then, the sound stopped.
The Weight of Silence
Silence. Absolute, deafening silence.
"Did we die?" Kaelen whispered.
Elara looked out the viewport. Her jaw dropped. Below them, Aetheria was a marble of gold, green, and blue. Above them, the Star-Nest loomed—a massive, rotating ring of white metal and solar panels.
And they were floating.
"We're in zero-G," Elara said, her voice full of awe. "Unbuckle your restraints. Carefully."
Kaelen unlatched his belt and immediately drifted toward the ceiling. "I am flying! Without wings! I am a golden cloud!"
Roric pushed off a wall and glided gracefully through the cabin. "It is like being a shadow. No weight. No burden."
Zev, still harnessed outside but inside his pressurized suit, tapped on the glass. "GUYS! THE VIEW IS GREAT, BUT THERE IS A GIANT METAL SPIDER COMING TOWARD US!"
Elara looked ahead.
Out of the Star-Nest's docking bay, a massive, multi-legged maintenance drone was crawling along the hull. Its "eyes" were glowing with the familiar, glitchy red light of the Null-Energy.
"That's the Sky-Eater," Elara said, her face hardening. "Kaelen, get your mace. Roric, daggers. Zev, get ready to maneuver."
"But Weaver," Kaelen said, spinning helplessly in mid-air. "How do I swing a mace when there is no floor?"
"Newton's Third Law, Kaelen! For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction! If you swing hard, you're going to spin!"
"Then I shall become a golden drill of death!" Kaelen roared.
"Chapter 24," Elara whispered, checking her oxygen levels. "Welcome to the final frontier."