Master Auberon summons Timur to the control room. He also orders the medical team to stay alert, in case anything happens. By the time everything is ready, somehow everyone knows what we are about to do. By everyone, I mean the whole fucking army.

We are up there, in the control room. And everyone else is under us, in the hangar, where the jets are stationed. We can see them through the glass wall, and they can see us, as well.

Suddenly all the planes seem to be in need of urgent maintenance. That may be the only reason for all the soldiers being out there, casting curious glances upwards. Some of them are pretending to repair their engines. Some of them are polishing the wings. Some of them, the less creative ones, are simply standing around, talking to each other.

"They are curious," Timur informs us. "They've never seen you in action, Madame."

I feel like being to a circus. On the wrong side of the ring. With me being the main attraction.

We prepare for the mapping, as usual, with Master Auberon sitting by my side, very close to me. He's ready to take action on the slightest hint of me getting too far out.

He seems to have a sixth sense for it. He simply feels when he must intervene. It's strange, because other than that, he's anything but sensitive. That would be very strange for a last bastion of hope, I guess, but still. The way he sits by me, with a mildly indignant expression on his face, makes it quite evident that he simply considers it one of his duties. Annihilate the enemy. Anchor the Seer. Bury the dead. Not very entertaining, but someone has to do it.

But if I ever would have doubts about his lack of sensitivity, the glance he casts down, to the hangar, would certainly dissolve them in a second. Poor pilots do not only forget to continue grinning suggestively, seeing us sitting up here, with our bodies touching, but practically freeze on the spot. One single disapproving glance is enough to scare them shitless. Some of them don't simply shut up, but also turn away, as if they wouldn't be able to bear the weight of his gaze.

It must be those inhuman eyes of his.

But, when he puts his arms casually around my waist too, just to find a good angle to keep me in place, even his eyes can't render the pilots silent anymore. The sight is simply too much for them to believe. They have the possibility to witness the savior of humanity behaving like a member of said humanity. It's something unheard of. The suggestive smiles are soon joined by encouraging cheers too.

"We appreciate the attention," announces Timur, grabbing the microphone, "but I bet you have better things to do. If you don't, I'll find you one."

The pilots disperse in two minutes. There wasn't much to see, anyway. What I do, is nothing spectacular. I close my eyes, and I let my mind expand.

I open the doors of perception. And this time, I don't have to hold my team of wild horses back. My thoughts are allowed to run free. To the perimeter of my inner map. And even farther away.

It's such a relief. Finally, I'm allowed to lose control for a few minutes, without having to pay a price for it. In scanner mode, I don't need to register all the little dots I find. They are just signs of life for me, not targets. I find them and I let go of them. It's easy.

There are humans amongst them, too. Scattered on the map, but never alone. They are gathered together in their underground shelters. However well camouflaged these hideouts are, I find lots of them. The little dots are crowded in there. And they all feel the same. They are desperate. Most of them have already lost hope. They are prepared to die.

I don't have time for them. I recognize their emotions, but I refuse to sympathize with them. I'm needed elsewhere. And, by the way, there's a huge difference between us.

I'm not prepared to die. I'm prepared to survive.

I let my attention expand further. I need to find the Wasps soon. They can't be very far from the Gate, or else every attack would mean a waste of energy for them. But they can't be very close either. They wouldn't risk the life of their queen with an easily exposed location.

After the ecstatic galloping, my thoughts are much slower now. The wild horses are getting tired. I need to put serious effort into making them move on.

My inner map is wearing thinner. I've never been this far from myself.

I prop my forehead against Master Auberon's shoulder. I breathe out slowly.

I feel like sitting on a cloud. Or, rather, like being one of the clouds. Covering the whole area around us, looking down, watching over the tiny beings under me.

When I find the Wasps, it fills me with pride. For a few seconds, that is. After that, the feeling slowly turns into anxiety. Then, into dread.

As I move on, towards the center of their circles, their feelings are getting darker and darker too. It's a clear sign for me, indicating that I'm getting closer.

To her.

I have to follow the trace. I sense the will of the Wasps. As I move on, it's getting more and more murderous. The queen is obviously surrounded by her best fighters. Their minds are hot and chaotic. Peeking into them feels like a dip into a lake of fire. And when it's almost too ardent to bear, I sense something huge just a few steps away.

It takes a serious amount of self-discipline to turn my mental vision in her direction. It'd be much easier to run away.

But I can't. She's not like her fighters. She's able to sense me. When she turns her attention to me, it feels as if death itself turned its terrible head to face me. She grabs my mind. For a second, we are one. I'm watching her and she's watching me.

Her malevolent will is burning like a disgusting funeral pyre in the darkness. When I sense her intentions in their entirety, I scream. I have no idea if mentally, or my physical body follows my mind's direction too, but I have no way to control my actions anymore.

She absorbs my consciousness. It's probably just a second, but it feels like ages. And I don't sense her thoughts anymore. I'm thinking them.

I scream again. I don't want to be her. I'm not ready to become a queen. I'm not ready to be part of her hive. But she's anchoring my mind.

She's not the only one, though. There's a part of me, which simply can't give in. It's not my resistance. It's not my will. It's someone else's. It's holding me back from joining her. Not even mentally. Physically, rather. It's confining me, so strongly that it hurts. I feel it tugging on me, with an irresistable force.

The queen spits me out like a bone caught in her throat.

I'm not prepared to die. I'm prepared to survive. I repeat it as a mantra. But the very moment she lets me slip out of her grasp, and we become two separate minds again, I know that I won't survive.

None of us will.

I let my mental map draw back as I faint.

My last coherent thought is that we are doomed.

When I come to my senses, I'm in my room. Master Auberon is lying by my side. He's snoring lightly. He probably has fallen asleep on the side of the bed, and he crawled closer in his sleep. Now his head is touching my stomach, and his long legs are hanging down.

I sigh, caressing his hair. But I don't wake him up. It's most probably his very last sleep. And the dedicated savior of humanity certainly deserves an undisturbed rest before he fails his mission.

I sigh again and put my mind to work. I desperately need to come up with a plan. My mind is supposed to be the strongest here, so it's time to use it for other purposes than mapping. For thinking, for example. There must be a way to destroy her. And I'll find it.

I spend an entire hour pondering our opportunities. Everything is clear to a point. But after that point, I always run into a dead end. I face an unavoidable barrier, which blocks all possible paths.

I gently caress Master Auberon's hair again. Want it or not, I need him for this. He's much more practiced at making military plans.

He sits up the very moment I touch him. Straight and proud. Still half asleep, but already in proper hero mode.

But I don't mock him this time.

I tell him honestly that we're all going to die.