After a successful Dive, where the pilot is out of danger and all their vital and neural signs are normal, raising them out of the deep Dreaming and back into full Waking consciousness is simple enough. You just remind her to be aware of her body, her breathing, her thoughts. Sing a lulby to guide them into the dive; sing an anthem to wake them back up.

  Many Oracles don’t bother, hitting the kicker – the eject button. A “mild” electrical shock, meant for emergencies. Panicking after a chaotic Dive, usually. One where it’s even more important to wake the pilot gently.

  I can’t do that to Victoria, especially not after a mission this smooth. I do it the right way, the gentle way, the way with lyrics.

  When I hit “People say that you’ll die/faster than without water,” I feel Victoria grip my wrist.

  “But we know it’s just a lie,” she murmurs in tune.

  “Scare your son, scare your daughter,” I finish. “Good morning, Vicky.”

  Victoria draws herself up, wetsuit and minated armor pte still dripping with viscous A2F, trying to regain some dignity by sweeping a sodden bang of blue-bck hair out of the eye with a scar under it.

  “Status report on Crybaby and Romeo,” she says, softly, before coughing A2F and phlegm into a fist.

  “Both magnificent,” I say, and it comes out as something like a sigh of relief. “Crybaby carried out her mission without issue and then assisted Romeo. They sustained damage, but nothing major. There were zero civilian casualties.”

  “Meaning the 108 Bus is safe too,” Victoria says. “Mission complete and accomplished.”

  I find myself smiling. “With style. Knightley’s the one, then?”

  “She better be.”

  Victoria closes her eyes and leans back into the cockpit pod, arching and flexing, rolling her neck, hearing where her joints crack. She takes a deep breath, and so do I.

  “Lam Hou Yi,” Victoria asks. “Where’s Hou Yi? Once I shower I owe him lunch.”

  I grimace. “The old man is looking after him,” I say.

  I hear Victoria hiss a breath in between her teeth, and can’t bme her.

  “Literally no one else on the base?” she says.

  “Isaac and Mule on the bus. Luiz and Yuki on Oracle duty. All pilots on deck. Literally no one else,” I say, and it’s an apology. “Say what you will about spending this much effort on the new kid, we’ll have more babysitters if nothing else.”

  “Especially if he makes pilot with only three pods,” Victoria says. “Not that I have time to train a fourth. Fuck.”

  “I still think it’s a good thing,” I say.

  “Did I say otherwise?” Victoria says, scoffing. She rolls over and takes something from a cache behind the pod – a small red and gold box. I wrinkle my nose as she takes out a slim cigarette.

  “Gimme a light, Merry?” she says. It’s not really a question.

  Despite myself, I agree.

  “Better to do it before feeding Hou Yi,” I say out loud, as she takes her first drag.

  She ughs and it turns into a coughing fit. “Course not. Never in front of the greedy little bastard,” she says, waving her arms, tracing almost calligraphic white trails in the air as she does. “I want him to outlive me.”

  I bristle, but given that Victoria is almost 17 and still an active-roster, combat duty Padin, she’s not wrong.

  Despite my best efforts so far.

  “Finish your smoke,” I say. “Take a shower. I’ll take you to your son.”

  “And then?” she asks.

  I fold my arms. “Colonel Fitzroy wants me to meet the new kid and give him the grand tour. Personally.”

  Victoria immediately sits up and looks me in the eyes, hand with cigarette over her mouth – ostensibly to take a drag, really so I can’t see how deep her grimace is. Given I can see her frown, it doesn’t work.

  “You think he actually is the old man’s kid?” Victoria asks.

  “Pilot Candidate Jesus Castelno?” I turn my head away, pinching the bridge of my nose. “The Colonel seems to think so. He has no reason to lie about it – and more importantly, neither does Castelno.”

  “Shit,” she says, stubbing out her smoke, teeth gritted.

  “I’ll try to bring him to you before I bring him to… the Colonel,” I say.

  “While I’m still topless in an awkward embrace with my greedy little bastard? No, fuck that for his first impression of me; I’m sure my drill sergeant routine will make him receptive enough to the facts of life here,” Victoria says, hand over her mouth, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Fitzroy pnned this, the fucker.”

  “Yes, he did,” I say. “But I’m not sure he realizes I know that. And, well.”

  She looks up at me, and I give her my most comforting smile.

  “I can be quite charming when I have to be,” I say.

  She ughs, genuinely. “No joke. Charmed the pants off of me enough times.”

  I wish, I think, but dare not say.