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Impani…
    “We’d better get off this tower,” he muttered. “They might come back.”
    “I’m open to suggestions.”
    “Those bridges must lead somewhere.” He headed toward the cliff.
     
    <<>>
     
    I mpani holstered her stat-gun. Her heart raced. Those birds might have shredded Trace. And when her weapon had no impact…
    She should have warned him to watch where he was stepping but, drel, she didn’t know it was a nest.
    They stepped along the edge of the precipice. Crevices scarred the rock face. Long-bodied insects darted about their feet. She searched for more boulder statues that might turn into animals. She didn’t want to be taken unawares again.
    Would it have been possible to ride the birds off the monolith? Either bird had been large enough to carry the two of them. She should have snared one with a grappling hook and lashed herself to its back. That would have been extraordinary.
    She filed the idea in her missed-opportunities trash bin and focused on the present. Cold air rasped her face and left a gritty, metallic taste at the back of her tongue. The environmental sensors on her sleeve showed marginal atmosphere.
    How foolish—both of them without their masks in place. She’d better not mention that in Debrief.
    “I’ve found a bridge,” Trace called.
    She hurried toward him. Over the side, she saw two fibrous ropes with a drape of fabric between them. Metal pinions secured the rope to the rock. She touched the cloth, and it rippled like water.
    “What sort of people could have woven something so wondrous?” She gathered the slick fabric, and it slipped between her fingers.
    He motioned toward the next column. “A hundred meters away, maybe one-fifty. I would like to have seen how they constructed this.”
    “Maybe they rode birds.”
    He glanced skyward as if alarmed.
    Impani looked at the misty chasm below. Swallowing a flutter of fear, she stepped onto the bridge.
    The ropes closed and pinned her body between them. She struggled to step back. The bridge swayed as it released its hold.
    Trace muttered, “Now, what?”
    “You give up pretty easily for a Scout.”
    “Whoever made these bridges were either smaller or lighter than we are. We can’t get across.”
    “Well, we can’t stand here and wait for the techs to send a ring. The birds might return, or the pinnacle might crumble beneath our feet. Besides, maybe the whole point of this session is to see if we can solve the riddle.”
    “This isn’t a game.”
    She pursed her lips and turned away. No, not a game. A competition. One she needed to win at all costs. If she was too heavy for the bridge, she would either have to walk on top of the ropes or—
    “Wait a minute,” she said. “Do you see how the mist rises?”
    “So?”
    “There’s an updraft. I noticed it when the tower fell.”
    “Impani, I fail to—”
    “Hang gliders.” She picked up a wing bone and held it in the air. “We can make gliders out of bones and fabric and sail to the surface.”
    His face remained impassive. “It might work.”
    “Of course, it will work.” Why couldn’t he just agree with her? “Look, you gather as many bones as you can. All sizes. I’ll slice off a section of cloth.”
    “All right, we’ll try it. But I want you to gather the bone. The bridge may be unsafe.”
    “I can handle it.” She thrust the bone into his hands and crawled onto the bridge. The ropes closed above her head, encasing her in dusty fabric.
     
    <<>>
     
    T race watched Impani disappear into the fabric tube. He swallowed a knot of anger. Why was she so difficult? Couldn’t she see he was thinking of her?
    He swished the wing bone. How did she expect to make a hang glider out of bits of fabric and pieces of bone? He didn’t like her idea, didn’t like her tone, but most of all he didn’t like the way she made him feel about himself. He always believed his greatest strength was his ability to adapt, to improvise.
    Why hadn’t he thought of a