Too damn good to be true, Annie thought.

Reality was now chewing on her ass.

And she sat there without a fore or an aft gunner.

What was the expression?

A sitting duck.

Even moving at hyper-speed, it was like she wasn't moving at all.

Jordan eased Rodriguez into an empty seat at the rear of the cabin.

"How bad am I hit?" He touched his face. "Am I bleeding?"

"Superficial wounds, Doc. You got singed. You'll be all right."

He gave the man, who was acting like he was breathing his last, a hearty pat on his shoulder.

"You done good, Doc. Taking out two speeders. Something to tell your grandchildren."

"If I ever have any-"

Then the intercom sounded.

"Jordan. We got company."

His smile faded.

"Can someone come back here and help Rodriguez? Tend to his wounds? First aid's right up here."

He tapped an unlocked overhead compartment.

Sinjira stood up, looking scared, but she moved toward Rodriguez.

"I will."

Surprised that the Chippie would offer, Jordan nodded and then ran back to the rear gun turret, fearing the worst.

Ruth looked at Ivan, slumped in his seat and rocking from side to side as the SRV constantly jigged left and right.

He could move his eyes.

And what she saw there-what she thought she saw there-made her reach out and place a hand gently on his wrist. She pressed her index and middle fingers down to feel his pulse. It was slow. Once every three or four seconds.

No matter what anyone else thought about him, this Ivan Delgato, she sensed nothing but honesty and goodness coming from him.

And she wouldn't be where she was, traveling across space to find answers about not just the Road, but about the universe if she hadn't learned to trust her feelings.

The vehicle rocked again. Hard.

Her hand tightened on his wrist.

His head immobile, his eyes strayed left, looking directly at her.

"Ivan," she whispered. "I'm sorry you-"

His lips opened.

Also in slow motion as if it was torturously difficult, fighting the control of the neuro-collar.

Open lips. A pause. Then: "I-"

A word. His eyes wide.

Then: "Can."

The next word took so much time, a tiny gust of air escaping through the narrow slit of his open mouth.

"Shoot..."

Ruth nodded and looked around.

"He's offering to help," she said.

And we need all the help we can get.

She nodded at Ivan and stood up and said, louder, "He's offering to help!"

"Damn, Jordan. Look at this..."

On the screen, the battle cruiser was behind them. And as they watched, a huge hatch opened up, and more speeders streamed out like angry hornets leaving a nest-two, four, six in formation at first, then dozens, splitting up, weaving ... bobbing.

Jordan had been blasting at the cruiser itself to no effect, but now he had targets he could take out.

Which he did with typical efficiency.

But for each speeder he nailed, another pair flew out of the cruiser.

Only a matter of time before they wear us down.

But then there came a sound.

Unfamiliar.

A heavy clanking noise to the right ... just behind the cockpit housing.

A whining noise, like- Drilling!

She knew immediately what it was. A grappling hook of some kind. A drill, burrowing into the hull of the SRV's metal plating-plating that could handle meteors, even direct blasts from pulse cannons-but could, with the right drill bit, be penetrated.

If the drill didn't cause the whole ship to depressurize, any rupture would force the ship into self-protective compartment-by-compartment shutdown.

And the SRV would stop ... dead.

Prime eating for the Road Bugs.

"For fuck's sake," she said.

"Annie?"

Jordan, so close to his gun's noisy blasts, might not have heard the drilling into the side of the hull.

"We've been grappled, Jordan."

"Thought so," he said. A pause. Then: "Only one thing to do."

"Yeah, only thing is ... I've never done it."

"Seriously?"

"What can I say? I'm a cautious pilot."

They were both silent for a few seconds, the drilling growing louder, setting Annie's teeth on edge.

"No time like the present to learn a new trick," Jordan said.

Annie nodded. She grabbed the wheel tighter, checked her speed, and sucked in a breath.

FOUR.

SECRETS AND LIES.

29.

BETRAYAL.

Annie let her breath out slowly.

And then cut the wheel hard to port while hitting the retro-thrust.

The SRV did what any other vehicle on any other "road" would do.

It turned over, rolling as she increased her speed, gunning the engine, giving as much spin to the roll as she could.

Annie held on tight to the controls, and everyone inside SRV-66 turned ninety degrees, then completely upside down, and then: a grinding, crashing sound ... the shriek of metal ripping apart.

The speeder that had attached itself to the SRV was crushed into the surface of the Road.

Not much left, not even for the Road Bugs.

The explosive multicolored sparks from the screaming metal flew forward, nearly blinding Annie as glowing pieces of the speeder sprayed like golden raindrops across the cockpit window.

The barrel roll continued even as the SRV dragged the remains of its attacker under it, pressing it harder against the Road.

More sparks, exploding in vibrant showers of light, and then the SRV righted itself.

Amid the crazed mayhem of the barrel roll, that annoying sound was gone.

Now came the tricky part ...

Could Annie get the vehicle running straight again when it returned to a level position on the Road?

Theoretically, she knew how to do this. She had to go slowly, play with the controls to keep the SRV from flying off into what looked on either side like the absolute void of space.

Her pulse throbbed, the blood pounding in her skull.

But she held steady, turning slowly. Don't overreact. And the SRV came around level. She played the wheel to the right, then to the left. The SRV banged back and forth, trying to get some kind of traction on the Road.

And then, with a gentle thump, it settled down on the Road and was running straight.

It was quiet.

No drilling sound.

"Impressive," Jordan said.

A pause.

And she had to agree.