Chapter Two: Ninety Seconds

In his natural body, there was no exit. [Load template?] “Load.” The world slowed. It was not that the men had become slower. Lin's body simply knew where the next step belonged. The angle of his foot, the forward drive of his hip, the line his arms cut through the air—answers poured into his muscles before he could ask the questions. [Time remaining: eighty-nine seconds.] His first three steps opened such a gap that one pursuer swore. Lin planted a foot on a pallet, drove the second against a wooden crate, and cleared the fence on the third. A spike of pain pierced his right knee when he landed, but Vega's acceleration was still alive in him.