"I'm going in," she said.
Ollen looked at her. He looked at the thick wall of gray plants known as the growth. Then he looked back at her. He rubbed his face with a dirty hand. He looked exhausted.
"Now," he said. It wasn't a question. He sounded like he already knew the answer and didn't like it.
"Now," she said. "The swarms just pulled back. They are regrouping. The growth is as empty as it's ever going to get. If we wait until the men are rested, the window closes. The next swarm cycle will start, and we will lose our chance. We can't wait for morning."
Ollen was quiet for a long moment. She could see him thinking. He was a man who liked to plan, but he was running out of options. He looked over his shoulder at his camp.
"You just watched three of our positions get hit at the same time," he said. "My men are sitting on the ground because they can't stand up anymore. They are bleeding and tired. And now you want to walk in there alone."
