The hemisphere descended with the others, controlled and precise, gliding down to settle beside them with a faint shimmer that ran across its surface like a breath.
Lucas looked at it. Then at Sylvia.
"So," he said, "who's carrying it?"
Sylvia's expression didn't change but something in it became slightly more pointed. "Isn't that obvious?"
"I'm just asking."
"You're asking because you want me to say it."
She folded her arms. The teasing came through in the tilt of her head, small and precise. "Unless you've decided you're better at offense than me. In which case, by all means go ahead. I'll take the defensive role. I'll carry it. Happily."
"I'm carrying it," he said, already crouching down.
"Good choice."
