She rose, watching as it dropped down towards her slowly, by eights, then nines. For the first time, she felt the heat from its thrusters blasting their hot wind at her.

Althea stood transfixed, as the colossal thing approach. Streams of smaller constructs, flying drones, dropped out of its many underports – insects by comparison. Once exposed, they too slowed, hung in the distant sky – hovering, waiting – for what?

“It’s stopped?!”

Dorian didn’t respond. Tearing herself away from the sight, Althea fell down to her knees, examined the figures on the display.

“Why did it stop again?” The answer was simple. There was no confirmation of her final transmission.

It cannot hear your signal.

She pounded a fist into the snow in frustration and rage. Not when I’m this so close!

“No,” she shrieked. “No!”

Breathing heavily, she composed herself, glaring over her jury-rigged failure.

“I will not accept this!” Her mind raced over the last desperate possibilities. What could she do? What could Dorian do?

Then she hit on it. She checked the remaining power in all the circuits, nodding at the total banked energy. It could be enough for a few beats. As quickly as she could, she rewired the connections, reset the system.

“Program the remaining power cells for a burst, full current,” she ordered, furiously reorganizing the multiplexers control interface, repeatedly glancing in concern at the colossal construct hanging over her.

“That’s all I need.” she told him as she completed the realignments. “That’s all I should need.”

Dorian corrected the power draw projection, acknowledging her changes in the systems physical and code structure.

The system will burn if the timing and connections aren’t perfectly synched. The margin–

“There is no choice now!”

Althea prepared the sequence timing.

“I’ll be ready,” she told him gently, caressed the edge of the display. “Trust me.”

The program was set.

I am waiting for the command.

She looked up – judged the distance, the level, the depth of its system – judged the figures on her display. They were as optimal as she could get them.

“I am ready,” she said quietly, holding her fist in her hand, breathing deeply, harshly.

The power cells will burn out completely in eleven beats, he began. Ten, nine…

The power matrix on screen brightened the figures to maximum scale. She glanced up, then back down again.

…eight, seven… six, five…

She scanned the signal bounce. The efficiency rate was approaching one hundred percent, the response rate back to what it should be. She waited, waited.

…four, three…

The transmission feed was locked at maximum power. Glancing up, she could see a perceptual lowering of the corpore’s horizon, life back in the many craft beneath it. They grew larger, approaching the platform – coming for her.

“It’s moving again, they’re coming!” Everything was aligned; she scanned for the last bits of approval. The power was lasting longer than expected.

…two, one…

“There we are,” she breathed. “Close enough, strong enough.”

All the receptors moved from yellow to green.

“Send the final command,” she ordered. Every single external node should receive reflexively. All she needed to do was send the command to blow it to the next world.

She slid her finger to the transmission field, mouthed a brief prayer – executed the command string.

Command sent.