Their rapid flight went far beyond the demands of their previous journey. Mike had to harden his eyes with the teleotic talent to ensure they could even function in the face of the stiff wind of their passage. He used the same treatment for his exposed skin and heated his entire body. Those ministrations made the experience bearable . . . just barely. After hardening himself to endure the wind, he still had a terrible time breathing. Air came in just fine, but exhaling required straining against the pressure. His body demanded a normal breathe-in, breathe-out cycle, but he struggled to provide that. Forever after, Mike recalled their forty minutes of travel as a marathon of suffocation.

The ordeal ended after they overflew a complex of buildings nestled between fencing. There were three compounds, one of which belched smoke into the air and was surrounded by emergency vehicles with flashing lights. Marius passed overhead and then set down in the woods. Mike went to hands and knees beside him, gasping. "What if . . . cops . . . saw us . . . flying? Might think . . . we are . . . with terrorists."

"No one on this planet can touch me," Marius said. "Other than Zellar Wilson. Cassandane wouldn't play like this if she was hunting me."

Mike touched his head to the ground to cool it. "What's the plan, boss?"

"We need information. I'm going to grab one of the police and try to put an agent in his head."

"What does it mean to put an agent in someone's head?"

"It's a trick above your pay grade, Sergeant. One that will get me answers."

"How about we try watching the news first? Then we don't have a pissed off cop to worry about."

Marius growled in response. "I'm not afraid of anyone, Mike."

"You ain't afraid yet," called an unfamiliar voice.

Mike climbed back to his feet, eyes drawn to the man hovering halfway to the tree tops. Marius patted Mike on the back. "Get to it already."

"I guess you're one of the terrorist kinetics," Mike said.

The man licked his lips. "I'm just following orders, man. You'd do the same in my shoes."

"Is that right?"

"Hey, fuck you, man. I was told to stir up some trouble with the police. Had you been respectful, I could have left you be. But now you die."

Mike began pulling massive amounts of precursor. "You might be overestimating yourself, bud. Guess we'll see." As Mike lifted himself into the air, the other man's sneer vanished. An enemy corona lashed out at Mike, battering him with such intensity that Mike had to withdraw his own to only cover a few feet around his body. Though there was no trickery with the open dimension, his opponent's strength overwhelmed him just the same. Mike hardened his body as a whirlwind of rocks, sticks, and clods of dirt struck at him, their momentum sending him crashing to the ground.

"A little help," Mike called to Marius. His mentor's only response was a gruff "Don't be pathetic, Mike."

A tree crashed down, inches away from striking him, its impact shaking the ground beneath him. Mike shot himself straight up to avoid the hail of objects, crashing through flying debris and the treetop canopy above to reach clear sky. Momentarily free, Mike expanded his corona and opened his eyes once more. The other man had followed, trailing a line of debris that periodically shot towards Mike. The man scowled. "Did he send you? Is this some sort of test? I am so tired of the damn games!"

Mike waited until the man closed more of the distance. He deflected rocks with his corona as they approached one another. Then, when he could see the man's eyes, Mike released an immense meme blast. The man shook his head, unfocused eyes striving to lock onto him. Not the clean knockout Mike had hoped for. He forced a large chunk of his corona upwise, riding the turbulence from his opponent to help get there. When Mike judged himself in place, he brought his corona downwise hard into alignment with normal reality and swiped hard, attempting to scramble the man's brain.

He missed. His corona stirred only air, short of his target by feet.

The man fought back wildly, corona attempting to displace Mike's, uncoordinated but still in the fight despite the continuing meme blast. Mike rode back upwise on the back of his opponent's corona, adjusting his positioning. When he came downwise again, Mike knew immediately that he had struck home. Brain tissue mushed beneath his corona and the man's body spasmed as it fell, kinetic field fading to nothing.

Mike lowered himself back to the ground, finding Marius in a clearing created by the fight. He glared at his mentor. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Letting you practice."

"I almost died."

Marius raised both eyebrows. "Are you not an experienced soldier? Do you not know how war works? This is kill or be killed, Mike."

"Real leaders don't sacrifice their men for no reason. You are playing army, Marius."

"Wrong! I don't play, Mike! I have mangled the bodies of my enemies. Men, women, children. I have been to war for real. And trust me, Mike, it is very much a sink or swim situation. Congratulations, you didn't sink. Now cut the attitude before I take offense. We are on mission, Sergeant."

Mike glared at Marius, fists clenched at his sides, imagining beating the man's face into an unrecognizable mess of blood, swelling, and displaced features. "You're gambling with my life."

"If you couldn't handle a lone kinetic with less experience than you, then it would be no great loss. I didn't make you a paragon so you could live a risk free life. You are a weapon, Mike. My weapon."