As I considered how to alter course for the invisible airplane, using proper right-of-way procedures, I had a worry that we were converging. Then came the command from approach, firmly: “Climb immediately.” Having read too many reports of midair collisions over our local airspace, my focus narrowed. Now, it was primal. Throttle in, yoke back. Oddly enough, as the horizon fell, the choice between Vx and Vy crossed my mind. A ridiculous thought, given the circumstances. I laughed to myself, if only for a millisecond. Back in reality, I kept pulling until what seemed like a 45-degree climb but must’ve been less. Reality again: I was about to pierce the floor of the Phoenix Class B airspace. I wasn’t far beneath it to begin with. “I’m gonna bust the Bravo. Is that OK?” I was cleared into the Class B before my mouth was shut.