“Where does your obsession with fire come from?” Nahara wondered. “I assume you you weren’t born with it, or else-“

“Or else it would have manifested as my quote unquote gift,” Selander interjected, “instead of this?” He gestured with an open palm to the scales marring his features. Then he shrugged. “Beats me.”

“I don’t believe you,” Nahara said, following in his footsteps as he strode towards the exit ladder.

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” he replied, already reaching for the first rung.

Nahara exhaled slowly, like her squadron leader had taught her. Selander was enough to make anyone go crazy and she was determined to keep a level head.

And that was working perfectly, until she followed Selander up the service hatch.

“There you are!” Nigella declared, the tips of her auburn hair brushing Nahara’s nose. “Did you bring lunch, I’m starving!”

Nahara shook her head, unwilling to believe her eyes when they told her Nigella was hanging upside down.

No. Nahara blinked. Nigella wasn’t hanging from anything. The other girl was stood on the ceiling as if it were the floor, looking pleased as punch.

“No food, I’m afraid,” Selander sighed, “but we retrieved the chemicals you asked for.”

Nigella’s eyes brightened. “One moment please, caller.” Then she dug in her pocket for a thin silver remote, hastily punching in commands.

The floor beneath Nahara’s feet began to tremble as a large metal cage in the centre of the room started to pulsate with light.

“Hang on to your hats!” Nigella declared. “And I mean that literally.”

“Why would-“ is all Nahara managed to say before she was dragged up to the ceiling by her feet and a sickening lurch in her stomach. Her face flushed as blood flooded to her skull. But just as quickly as it had appeared, the sensation depleted.

Nigella’s invention had reattuned her centre of gravity to the ceiling.

Fortunately, she managed to stifle her scream - which is more than could be said for Selander, who was pinwheeling his arms in a desperate attempt to remain upright on the ground.

“Now there’s something you didn’t know,” Nahara crowed, “you don’t like being upside down!”

Selander turned to glower at her, only to lose his grip on the workbench and get tugged up to the ceiling like he was falling down to Earth.

Nahara sniggered. At least she’d landed on her feet.

“Damn and blast,” Selander cursed, rubbing his now vacant head where his boater usually sat like a disapproving bird of prey.

“I did tell you to keep a hold of your hat,” Nigella said sadly, extending a ink-stained palm. “Now my chemicals, if you please.”