Page 80 of Aviatrix

“They prefer female pilots,” the General continues. “Something about the structure of the female neural pathway. It syncs better. They gravitate toward pilots with higher neural coherence under stress. The CogniSync—Cognitive Synchronization Interface—links them with their pilot’s mind, allowing them to adapt in real time.”

I absorb every word, feeling the weight of his admiration and warning all at once.

“VAL-X wasn’t designed to kill,” he adds. “They’re recon, defensive, deeply intelligent. Their purpose is to protect. No one has flown one in eighteen years. Not since their inception.”

Eighteen years. My pulse stammers. That’s when the Legion was formed. Walker said so in the diner. It’s the same number he gave us. Not a coincidence.

“Why hasn’t anyone flown one?” I ask aloud.

The General shrugs. “I’m not sure. I can dig around.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I say.

“There is one more thing I remember clearly,” he says, sitting forward. “VAL-X can enter Stealth Mode—completely invisible to radar and nearly impossible to visually track. That mode can be extended to other crafts in close proximity.”

“Fingertip formation?” Eli asks.

“Yes. Ask your VAL-X how to initiate it. She’ll know. She was built to learn.”

Which only sharpens the question gnawing at me. Why was VAL built to learn? Is it human AI? Or something else entirely? Something alien?

“I’ll keep in touch,” the General says, and then the screen goes black.

Eli powers down the heavy-duty computer. Both his hands drop to the workbench’s surface, shoulders tense, like he’s bracing for impact.

“I know you’re worried,” I say softly, stepping closer to him. “But you heard the General. VAL’s loyal. Trustworthy.”

He lets out a short, bitter scoff. “For now. We still don’t know what she’s capable of.”

“We find out then,” I reply, reaching for his hand.

He doesn’t hesitate. His fingers tangle with mine, warm and solid. A grounding force.

“What did the Colonel say about VAL?” he asks.

I look away. “Lark doesn’t know. He was already gone when she appeared.”

Eli exhales sharply. “Lark never would’ve let you near her.”

“I know.” I glance up at him, smiling faintly.

He toys with my fingers like he’s trying to memorize the feel of them. “If those ships are showing themselves now—if they’re planning something—we might need her.”

“You think?” I tease gently, and he gives the smallest laugh.

Then, the warmth in his touch shifts, turns softer.

“I’m scared we won’t be able to protect everyone,” he admits.

My mind instantly wanders to Mom. To Amber, Lark's daughter. To Aunt Lise and Uncle Rod. To Willa. This isn’t just a big city problem. It’s a small town one, too. Nowhere is safe.

My smile fades. “Me too.” Thunder rumbles low in the distance. The sky’s darkening fast.

“Do you remember our flight drills at the Academy?” he asks. “That first time we tried fingertip formation?”

I nod. “We nailed it.”

“First try,” he recalls. His eyes brightening. “We were always in sync. Even then.”