 
### Dome Nine

A Classic American Myth Re-Imagined

(LFB/MGM)

By John Purcell

Copyright 2013 John Purcell

Smashwords Edition

(A quick word about fonts: the character Bim speaks almost inaudibly. To reflect this, his dialog is intentionally written in a smaller font size. This difference has been preserved in EPUB format, but not in HTML. Other formats may vary.)

### Part One: Dome Nine

### Chapter 1

10.11.2173.9:29PM

I'm not sure why my father programmed me to keep this diary, since I remember everything that happens to me. Even so, each night before shutdown I spend 60 seconds creating a text file about the previous 16 hours. On average, I only spend 1.3 seconds, because there isn't much to report.

Today, for example, I went to school, which is always the same, then I went to work, which is always the same, and then I came home, as I always do. After my chores, I helped my great grandniece with her homework, helped my grandnephew with an accounting problem, and played checkers with our iPup. Then I came up to my room and watched TV until shutdown.

These are the things I do every day and remember in every detail, and yet I've created and stored thousands of text files, all very similar, documenting these events. I have trouble understanding what purpose this serves.

This morning, however, something happened that _is_ worth reporting: I had a thought that seemed to come from nowhere. It's such a simple idea that I don't know why it didn't occur to me sooner.

As of today, I will begin using this diary to set down my experiences as though I'm reporting them to someone else, instead of to myself.

I realize this entry is very short, but I am going to use the remaining 59.7 seconds before shutdown to scan my processors, to try to find out where this new thought came from.

Entry complete.

### Chapter 2

10.12.2173.9:29PM

My thought was triggered by a burst of new program code. This is highly unusual. I traced it back to processor 443K and hit an access code I couldn't break. I will keep trying to break it, but I'll need over two hours of uninterrupted processing time. This won't be easy to find.

In any case, my name is Teo. TEO stands for Trans-processor External Overlay, a piece of circuitry my father invented. My TEO's allow me to think as humans do.

I live in Dome Nine, in the Greater Philadelphia Seacoast Complex, with my grandnephew, Drake Jomes, his wife, Eppi, and their daughter, Luma.

I'm in 5th grade at Ryesong Elementary School, which is 1.1 miles from our house. Luma, who is ten years old, is in 5th grade as well, and we walk to school together every day, except Sundays. We walk home together, too, but I drop her off and continue on to DynaLink International, where I work.

I've been working at DynaLink for 79 years 337 days. Mr. Wu, who runs DynaLink, is much kinder than his father, who died in 2141. One week ago, he threw me the only birthday party I've ever been given. It was just the two of us and took place in his office, but I thought it was a nice gesture.

Even though she's my great grandniece, I consider Luma a friend. Today at recess, she punched Dogan Nath for calling me names. On the way home, I told her she shouldn't have done it because I have no feelings to hurt. She said it hurt _her_ feelings.

Luma looks much the way her grandmother did at her age, although she's smarter by far. She's prettier, too, but this is obscured by her short hair and tomboy clothing.

As for my own appearance, my father did everything possible to make me look like a normal ten-year-old boy. I think he was successful, aside from my pale skin and coarse, blue-black hair. Generally speaking, though, it isn't my appearance that gives me away. The fact that I don't age, for example, is impossible to conceal. I've been 10 years old for 100 years.

Luma did something unusual at supper tonight, which is related, I think, to punching Dogan today. She made a fuss over the fact that I hadn't been invited to Rayleen Scott's birthday party, even though I'm not, as a rule, invited to parties of any kind.

Eppi, the perfect housewife, called us to the table and dished out the casserole.

When Drake asked Luma how school was, she said, "It was horrible! Rayleen Scott was handing out invitations to her birthday party and she walked right past Teo's desk. She just skipped him!"

Drake is unimpressive in every way, although he seems to believe the opposite. He gave Luma a condescending look. "Her birthday party? Are you _kidding?_ Teo doesn't want to go to a _birthday_ party!" He turned to me. "Am I right or am I right?"

He was expecting me to agree, but I appreciated Luma's concern, so I said, "I have no feelings one way or the other."

Luma frowned. "That's not the point anyway! Rayleen invited the whole class, except Teo! That's just rude!"

Drake took a gulp from his martini. "Here's an idea! Why don't you invite a few WaitTrons, maybe a couple of JaniTrons, really liven things up?"

"Cut it out, Dad! Teo isn't a Menial and you know it. He's smarter than me. He's smarter than _you!"_

Drake's face, already flushed, reddened some more. "Watch yourself, young lady!"

Eppi was poking at chunks of bean curd with her fork, off in her own world. She looked up for a moment. "Luma, that's enough."

Luma slapped her palm on the tabletop, rattling the dishes. "I don't care! I'm telling Rayleen tomorrow that I'm not going to her party unless Teo goes!"

Drake said, "When does this pointless gathering take place?"

"After school on Saturday."

"On _Saturday?_ Teo has to work. He can't take time off to go to a party."

I said, "I have 647 vacation days saved up."

Luma beamed at me, then turned to Drake. "See? It's settled! Teo doesn't do anything at that stupid job anyway!"

Drake gave her a sarcastic smirk. "Now who's being rude to Menials?"

Luma stuck out her tongue, ending the discussion.

When I came up to my room, I turned on the TV. They were showing _It Happened One Night,_ but I paid no attention to it.

Luma hadn't noticed, but I hadn't agreed to go to the party. All I'd done was state the number of vacation days I'd accumulated.

I spent some time trying to figure out whether or not I _wanted_ to go. That was difficult, though, because wanting is mostly a matter of emotion. Comparing both situations objectively was of no help.

I also thought about what Luma had said about my job. She was both right and wrong.

I test computer code for DynaLink, Monday through Saturday, 3 to 6 PM, 50 weeks a year. Mr. Wu always praises my work, because I'm approximately two hundred times faster than the humans who do the same job and I never make mistakes. In addition, my work earns us extra GR chits. So to say I'm not doing anything is obviously incorrect _._

But I have no idea what all this code is used for, because the DataStream is strictly for GR use. No one I know ranks high enough to use it, except Mr. Wu. I have never seen the DataStream myself, or been told the purpose of all this code. So, in her own way, Luma had hit on the truth.

It occurs to me now that I don't find my job very meaningful, or school either, for that matter. Without them, though, I don't know what I would do with myself.

Entry complete.

### Chapter 3

10.13.2173.9:29PM

On the way to school this morning, I told Luma that I'd decided not to go to the party. When she asked me why, I said it didn't really interest me.

She gave me a look. "Teo, you nincompoop, that's not a _reason!_ Just tell me!"

I said, "I don't want to damage your friendship with Rayleen over a party that means nothing to me. You keep forgetting I have no feelings to hurt."

"You keep forgetting you've told me that a thousand times! Even if you _don't_ have feelings, you can see that Rayleen is just being mean!"

"Luma, you can't expect your friends to do anything but ignore me."

Luma turned suddenly and grabbed my hands. "Teo, I _know_ you, and you're just as good as any of my friends! And a lot better than stupid old Rayleen or that dimwit Dogan! Get that through your head! And you're going to the party, so get _that_ through your head, too!"

We walked the rest of the way in silence but I think she knew I appreciated her kindness.

As it turned out, Luma never had to confront Rayleen. Our new teacher, Miss Green, started the day with an announcement that took everyone by surprise. She asked all the kids to hand in the party invitations they'd been given the day before.

This caused a lot of excited whispering and Miss Green had to shush the class. Despite her youth and delicate features, she can be intimidating when she wishes. When the room was silent, she explained her policy on invitations: unless the entire class is invited to the party, no one is allowed to pass out invitations at school. Then she spelled it out to Rayleen: either invite everyone or send the invitations by mail.

Rayleen started to whine. "But Miss Green, if I have to mail them no one will get them until next week!"

Miss Green's emerald eyes were cold. "The solution is obvious."

And that's how I ended up getting an invitation.

I'm not sure why Miss Green did what she did. She doesn't act like any other 5th grade teacher I've ever had, and I've had 37. All the others have paid no more attention to me than they would have any other Menial.

The reason for this is simple: by the time my father created me, it had become clear that no one wanted androids to be fully human or have equal intelligence. They wanted them just smart enough and human enough to replace actual workers without adding costs.

At first glance, Menials look real, but their faces give them away. Aside from their uniforms, all Menials look exactly alike. More to the point, their faces are expressionless and their eyes stare vacantly. I have to admit that my own face shares some of these characteristics, particularly the lack of emotion.

Miss Green, however, treats me as though I'm human. At this point, I have no explanation for her behavior.

In any case, at recess, I was sitting on a bench over by the baseball diamonds and Dogan came up to me again, along with his playmates. He called me a DinkTron and told me that if I showed up at the party he would smash me to pieces. Then he tried to shove me backwards off the bench, but he couldn't do it because I'm much heavier than I appear. So he threatened me again and then they all left. Thankfully, Luma didn't see any of it.

Like most bullies, Dogan is big for his age, but he doesn't have a bully's face. His natural expression is one of confusion. I can't really blame him for the way he acts. 2 years, 41 days ago, his father was killed in the war.

After school, I made a point of getting to work early so I could speak with Mr. Wu. I dropped off Luma and ran all the way to DynaLink, arriving at 2:49 PM.

When I walked into Mr. Wu's office, Mrs. Po, his burly secretary, looked up and said, "What do you want?"

I said, "I'd like to speak with Mr. Wu, please."

She pushed a button and said, "Your Menial's out here," and went back to work. She wasn't trying to be rude. She just considered politeness a waste of time.

Mr. Wu, on the other hand, has always been polite to me, even as a young man. He's grown heavier over the years and wears rimless spectacles now, but he still treats me with more respect than anyone else in Dome Nine, Luma excluded.

He opened his office door and gave me a smile. "Hello, Teo, how nice to see you. Please come in."

After he showed me to a chair, he took a seat behind his desk. "How can I help you?"

"I wanted to ask you if I could take the day off tomorrow."

He leaned back, pressing his fingertips together. "Of course you may. Might I ask why?"

"I've been invited to a birthday party, after school."

He smiled again. "Is that so? I can't recall the last time you received such an invitation."

"It was April 3rd, 2168."

"Yes, of course. And this party is in honor of whom?"

"A classmate of mine named Rayleen Scott."

"A friend of yours?"

"A classmate."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you implying that she's not your friend?"

"I don't think she likes me at all."

"And do you like _her?"_

"I have no feelings one way or the other."

Mr. Wu nodded and said nothing further. He just sat there staring at me.

I stared back, waiting.

Finally, he said, "You'd better hurry up and punch your timecard. I'd hate to break your winning streak." He stood up and gestured toward the door. "It was wonderful to see you, Teo. I hope you have fun at the party."

For the rest of the day, I found my thoughts returning to the birthday party and to Dogan's threat. Repetitive thoughts are usually the result of a feedback loop, but I haven't been able to locate one. I'm going to run one more scan before shutdown.

Entry complete.

### Chapter 4

10.14.2173.9:29PM

I am not at all sure what Miss Green's behavior means. She is much more unusual than I would have ever guessed.

This afternoon in class, we began our unit on American history. I settled into my seat, preparing to listen again to the story I've heard 79 times before, about the Great Crash and the Glorious Salvation. We receive new history textbooks every so often but the wording never changes. It always reads:

In the mid-21st Century, all the nations of the world—except for United North Korea and China (UNK/C)—had come to depend on an information network known as the Internet for all their needs and desires. Without thinking clearly, they connected the world's data to it, at all times, through wireless devices. Fortunately, UNK/C recognized the dangers inherent in this and created the DataStream, which was completely protected from failure.

When the Great Crash came, in 2073, the Internet ceased to exist and all data from governments, financial institutions and stock markets worldwide vanished. This led to chaos, civil war, and famine.

In an act of great heroism, UNK/C deployed peacekeepers across the developed world to restore order and hope. The era of the Glorious Salvation (2074-2082) began, guided by our Savior, Kim Jong-pil.

In 2075, Kim Jong-pil, in partnership with U.S. President Trip Savage, incorporated the United States into the Democratic People's Global Republic (DPGR). Assisted by the GR, President Savage constructed the Domes that protect our cities from natural disaster, and the high-speed underground rail network that connects them to the Arctic farmlands.

It goes on from there, but the point is Miss Green's behavior.

She took her place at the blackboard, called the class to order, and said, "Today, children, I have the honor of teaching you the history of the Glorious Salvation. But before we get started, I wanted to say one thing."

She turned to me and said, _"Tears in my eyes I hail giving."_

Then she turned back and started teaching the lesson word-for-word from the textbook, and never looked my way again.

She'd clearly meant her words for me, but they didn't make any sense. I concluded that the sentence was an anagram and began sorting through all possible combinations of its 24 letters. It took 18 minutes 43 seconds before I got a result that made sense: _Everything I'm saying is a lie._

I was still trying to assess this result when the bell rang and school let out for the day. I had to put the whole problem aside because every question led to more questions. And it was time to go to the birthday party.

When Luma and I got home, Eppi greeted us at the door and told us to go wash up. While we were in the bathroom, she backed our red and white '59 Impala out of the garage and parked it by the front walkway. Then she came back inside and shooed us out the door.

Moto, our iPup, was racing in circles with excitement over the car ride. She dashed between our legs and down the walkway and jumped through the open window into the backseat, barking so wildly that Eppi had to hit the mute button.

It took us 11 minutes to get to Rayleen Scott's house, which was on Paradise Avenue, all the way over in East Rim, near the GR barracks.

Eppi couldn't even pull over to drop us off, because Impalas were parked all up and down the street. A lot of people had arrived early. Parents and kids were standing in groups on Rayleen's front lawn. When we hopped out of the car, heads turned our way. Luma swung the door shut and Eppi drove off.

By the time we reached the curb, all eyes were upon us.

I said, "Is this the way most birthday parties start out?"

Luma took my arm. "This is really weird."

As we came up the walkway, everyone stepped back and I could see Dogan Nath on the front step, a baseball bat resting on his shoulder.

Luma hesitated. "Maybe we should just skip the party."

I said, "I can't back down now."

My own words took me by surprise. Objectively, there wasn't a single good reason to stay. The words seemed to come from nowhere. I knew I would have to trace them back to their source as soon as I had the chance.

We arrived at the foot of the stairs. Dogan was standing above us on the landing, three steps up, blocking the front door. His eyes were on me. I released Luma's arm and she stepped aside.

Dogan said, "I told you if you came I'd smash you to pieces."

I said, "That's true."

"You didn't believe me?"

"I believe you meant what you said."

"You aren't afraid I'm going to do it?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

I was simply stating a fact, but this made Dogan angry. He shifted his weight and his grip tightened on the bat.

He said, "I told you not to come," and swung the bat at my head with all his strength.

I raised my forearm, deflecting the blow. I felt it and it wasn't pleasant, but I don't process pain as humans do. And, unlike bone, the alloy in my forearm is much stronger than wood.

Dogan swung at my head again and I blocked the bat again. We went around a third time, then a fourth, then a fifth. Finally, he paused, breathing hard.

I said, "This is a waste of time."

Then Dogan did something I didn't expect: he threw down the bat and burst into tears. He bawled into his fists for a moment, but anger and embarrassment took over and he leaned down and started screaming in my face. "Just go away! I don't want you here! _Nobody_ wants you here! _Why don't you understand that?"_

He words died away and silence fell over the yard.

I said, "I do understand."

I turned to Luma, who also had tears in her eyes. "I have to go. You stay and enjoy the party."

She shook her head, but I said, "These are your friends. I want you to stay."

The front door opened and Rayleen's mom stepped outside. She came down the stairs, past Dogan, and put her arm around Luma. "Please don't cry, honey. Come inside and have some cake." She turned to the people in the yard. "Everyone, please come in."

She led Luma up the steps and into the house. Dogan turned his back to me and followed them in. Then all the parents and kids went inside, too, passing by me without a word or a glance. Things were back to normal.

I walked out to Paradise Avenue and headed south. When I got to the corner, I turned east on Founding Father Boulevard, toward East Rim Park.

Dome Nine is one if the oldest Domes in the country, and I've lived here all my life. Every so often, on a Sunday, I'll go to East Rim Park to watch the ocean and escape my own thoughts. The easternmost segment of Dome Nine extends right up to the edge of the Pennsylvania Seawall and you can see the waves crashing on the rocks below.

In the afternoon, most people go to West Rim Park to watch the sunset, so I had my pick of benches. I sat down and considered my own words: _I can't back down now._

Dogan Nath isn't the first bully I've ever encountered. There's one in every class, and I just try to avoid them. When I can't, though, I _always_ back down. I don't have much choice. I can't harm humans in any way. I can't even touch them.

The bullies, of course, can touch me all they like, but it isn't really a problem, because their punches and headlocks don't cause real pain and I don't feel fear or humiliation. It's just part of my school day.

Where, then, had those words come from? I closed out my gross motor functions to increase my calculation speed and started a scan. It took 17 seconds to trace them back to their source: processor 443K again.

This made me even more determined to break the access code. Now, thanks to the disaster at the birthday party, I had enough free time. Afterward, I planned to run back to Rayleen's house and ride home with Luma.

All my other access codes are 40 digit combinations of numbers and letters, so it was just a matter of sorting through all the possibilities. To increase calculation speed even further, I closed out my language and audio-visual functions, something I seldom do. I would be deaf, dumb and blind until I either broke the code or processed all possible combinations.

I closed my eyes and time lost all meaning.

When I opened them again, 4 hours 17 minutes 33 seconds had elapsed. As my functions rebooted, I could see that night had fallen. Why had my calculations taken so long?

I knew I'd missed my ride, and that Luma would be worried about me. I wondered if they'd already started looking for me. Dome Nine is 15.7 miles in circumference, a very large search area. I needed to get to a telephone.

I was about to stand up when I realized two things: I had successfully broken the code, and Miss Green was sitting next to me on the bench.

I turned to her. "How long have you been sitting here?"

She said, "About an hour."

"Since nightfall."

She smiled a little. "Yes, since nightfall."

"I deciphered your message. You said, 'Everything I'm saying is a lie.'"

"Very good."

"But what did you mean by it?"

"There's an old saying, Teo. History is written by the winners. What do you suppose that means?"

"That you teach us whatever the GR wants you to teach, and that their version of history is untrue."

She smiled again. "You're even brighter than I'd expected. May I ask you a personal question?"

"If you like."

"How much do you know about your father?"

"I don't have much information. My mother didn't like to talk about him."

"You must know a little."

"His name was Joseph Clay. He was a scientist who designed and manufactured androids. He designed me to look like a human being and constructed me by hand."

Miss Green nodded. "Anything else?"

"He also invented the Trans-processor External Overlay. My brain circuitry uses multiple TEO's. That's how I'm able to think as humans do."

"You're one of the only androids in the world who has them. Do you know why that is?"

"No."

Miss Green put her hand on my arm. "Your father was a genius, Teo, one of the great minds of the 21st Century. To this day, no one else has figured out how to build anything like the TEO, and it isn't for lack of trying."

"Then why isn't my father famous? Why is there nothing about him in any book or newspaper or magazine I've ever read?"

"The GR works very hard to obliterate the past."

"And why do I have no memory of my father at all?"

"I don't know the answer. All I can do is guess."

"Please."

Miss Green frowned in thought. "Most likely, your father deleted whatever memories you had of him."

"Why?"

"He was still building you when the Invasion began. As soon as UNK/C got here, they started rounding up scientists. Your father would have been on the top of the list. Once they got a hold of anyone useful, they always made the same offer: collaborate or be sent to the Arctic Circle."

"To the oil fields?"

"Yes."

"Is that where my father ended up?"

Miss Green paused, turning away. "I'm sorry, Teo. Your father was a collaborator. Early GR documents show that he worked in the Provisional Science Ministry from 2074 until his death in 2101."

"What did he do there?"

"Research of some sort. If it's any consolation, nothing he did seemed to be of much help to the GR." She turned back to me. "But here's my point. Your father hadn't quite finished you when they came looking for him. Your earliest memories were probably of running and hiding. Somehow, he got you to Dome Nine and into his godmother's care. I imagine he deleted your early memories to give you a fresh start."

I wasn't sure what to think. "How do you know all this?"

Miss Green seemed to ignore the question. "What do you know about life outside the Domes?"

"I understand it's dangerous, for many reasons."

"That's true. The conditions are difficult and there are dangers of every kind. But there's civilization, too, Teo, a _real_ world, not like this bubble you live in. And everyone Outside knows what really happened to America. That's how I know about your father."

"You've been Outside?"

Miss Green shook her head impatiently. "I was _born_ Outside."

"You're a Goth?"

"There aren't any Goths, Teo. That's just a term the GR dredged up. It's one of their most enduring lies."

"Then who's out there?"

"All sorts of people, although they aren't easy to find."

"The GR says the Goths number in the millions."

"That can't be true. Most of those left outside the Domes died, one way or another. Survivors organized themselves into clans, but they only numbered in the thousands."

"You were born into one of these clans?"

"Yes, the Potomac clan."

"And now you're in Dome Nine, teaching 5th grade? How is that possible?"

"Teo, Miss Green isn't my real name."

I was growing concerned. "If you aren't who the GR thinks you are, then you're in danger right now."

Miss Green misunderstood me. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

I tried again. "Why did you follow me here?"

She looked surprised. "How do you know I followed you?"

"I saw you parked on Paradise Avenue and now you're parked near the Esso station."

"You can't have spotted me. I was watching you through binoculars."

"I'm an android, Miss Green. But the point is, you aren't the only one who followed me here."

She glanced around the park. "What do you mean?"

"As soon as I sat down here, two GR men in a Ford Falcon parked by the archway. They're still there."

She leaned toward me. "We can't be seen talking like this again. Just remember, your father created you for a purpose. Fulfill that purpose."

She stood up and walked quickly away toward her car, disappearing into the darkness.

A moment later, I heard Luma call my name and turned to see her running toward me. She came up and threw her arms around my neck, saying, "Oh, Teo! I was so worried! When we couldn't find you Mom drove home and called Dad! I _told_ them we should look for you here but Dad called Mr. Wu instead!"

When Luma released me, I could see Drake and Mr. Wu walking up the pathway toward us, side by side. Drake was unsteady on his feet. Mr. Wu's face was expressionless. I heard the gentle whine of an electric motor and saw the Ford Falcon pull away from the curb.

Drake walked up to me. "Thanks, Teo! I just _love_ spending all my free time looking for you! Let's do this every night!"

He smelled of alcohol.

Mr. Wu stepped in front of Drake and put his hand on my shoulder. "Thank goodness you're safe, Teo. Your disappearance has caused quite a stir."

I said, "I apologize for upsetting everyone. I came here to process data and lost track of the time."

"I've never known you to do that before. Did the woman you were speaking with distract you?"

"No. We only spoke for 6 minutes or so."

"Who was she? You two seemed to know each other."

I didn't want to reveal Miss Green's identity but Mr. Wu left me no choice. I'm incapable of lying. "That was my teacher, Miss Green."

"May I ask what you and she were discussing?"

I can't lie, but I can withhold information. "American history. We started studying it in school today."

"And how did she happen upon you here? Pure coincidence?"

Just then, Drake stepped forward. "Blah, blah, blah! Can we get going now?"

For once, his foul humor did some good. I stood up. "Drake is right, we should be getting home."

When we arrived at the Impala, Drake followed Mr. Wu to the driver's side and tried to take the keys from his hand. "Let me drive this time! You drive like an old woman!"

Mr. Wu held the keys out of reach and spoke under his breath. Luma couldn't hear him, but I could.

He said, "You dishonor yourself with your drunken antics. If you keep this up, other arrangements will be made."

I didn't understand his meaning but Drake clearly did. He seemed dazed as he made his way around to the passenger side. He didn't say another word during the ride home.

Mr. Wu dropped us off at the house and he and Drake continued on to DynaLink.

Eppi hardly spoke as she hurried us into bed, and her eyes were red from crying. She's kinder to me than Drake but I'm still a Menial to her. It's unlikely she'd been crying over me.

In the remaining minutes before shutdown, I considered my conversation with Miss Green. She'd seemed sincere, but I wasn't prepared to believe everything she'd told me. After all, I had no idea who she really was.

The GR has been at war with the Goths for as long as I can remember. Thousands of young men have died in battle. Before I can believe it's all a lie, I need to hear it from someone else.

Entry complete.

### Chapter 5

10.15.2173.9:29PM

Eppi always makes us pancakes on Sunday mornings, and, unlike other meals, she sets a plate in front of me. I butter the pancakes and pour syrup on them, because it seems to please her, but I can't eat them. Still, it's pleasant to relax and not have to hurry off to school.

Drake was doing poorly this morning, though, cradling his head in his hands and raising it only to sip black coffee. Luma and I knew enough not to speak, but I had a lot to tell her and was counting the seconds until she finished. She understood this somehow and ate her pancakes quickly. After we cleared our dishes, we headed out back to the swing set to talk.

We sat on the swings and dangled our feet.

Luma said, "What happened at the park last night? Why did you miss your ride?"

I said, "I went there to break an access code. It should have taken around two hours, but it took twice that long. Last night, I couldn't figure out why. When I booted up this morning, though, it all made sense."

"What happened?"

"When I broke that access code, a lot of new program code loaded onto my drives. That's what took so much time. I tried to trace it but it was more like an explosion than anything else. Tiny bits of code got added to every program in my system."

Luma said, "Wow."

I knew she was just being a sport. Talk of codes and programs mean nothing to her. Like everyone else in Dome Nine, she's never used or even seen a computer.

I said, "Luma, I was _meant_ to break that access code. Two odd thoughts led me right to it. And that program code has been locked away since my father built me. I keep asking myself why."

"I don't know."

"And why _now?"_

Luma chewed her lip, then brightened, "I know! It was your birthday last week! Maybe it was some sort of birthday present!"

Luma's insights are always worth considering. Was it possible my father had set these thoughts to be triggered by my 100th birthday?

I said, "Something else happened at the park last night."

"What?"

"I spoke with Miss Green."

Luma's eyes widened. "What was _she_ doing there?"

"I think she came there just to talk to me. She told me a lot of things about my father that I never knew. And, in a way, about my mother, too."

"What do you mean?"

"She told me that my mother wasn't my father's wife, she was his godmother. That means Drake's not my grandnephew and you're not my great grandniece."

Luma shrugged. "That's okay."

"You're right, it doesn't make much difference. But it makes me wonder how much else I don't know. I'm not sure my father even _had_ a wife."

Luma thought for a moment. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Well, he built you because he wanted a kid. Why would he do that if he was married?"

I could think of other explanations, but Luma's had the ring of truth.

I was trying to decide how much more to tell her when the back door opened and Moto raced down the stairs and across the yard. She flopped on her back, waiting for a tummy rub. Luma jumped off the swing and granted her wish. Then Moto hopped to her feet and barked three times, meaning she had something to say.

I said, "What is it, Moto? Would you like to play a game?"

She barked once, meaning _yes._

"What would you like to play? Fetch?"

Moto barked twice, meaning _no._

"Hide and Go Seek?"

Two barks.

"Twenty Questions?"

One bark.

"Okay. Are you thinking of something?"

One bark.

"Is it something I can see from here?"

One bark.

"Is it a living creature?"

One bark.

At this point, I guessed which routine she was running. "Is it something very cute?"

One bark.

"Is it _Moto?"_

Moto danced around in circles, yapping. I called to her and patted my lap and she jumped into it, licking my face. Her breath smelled of machine oil.

I always find it amusing that Moto thinks she's alive. She only thinks this because it's the simplest way to construct her program.

iPups are quite sophisticated, because dogs were very intelligent animals, but they're no greater than the sum of their processors. In other words, they may have multiple processor banks, and be able to run complex programs simultaneously, but the processors are still individual units, unable to function as a whole.

That's the problem my father solved. My TEO's create webs that link my processors together in much the same way that human brain cells are linked.

I was ruffling Moto's fur and picturing her processor banks, trying to imagine how a TEO might be added, when it hit me: I knew exactly how to construct the Trans-processor External Overlay.

I jumped up from the swing, startling Luma and sending Moto tumbling across the grass.

Luma said, "Yikes!"

I said, "I didn't mean to alarm you."

"What's the matter?"

As intelligent as Luma is, I knew she wouldn't understand. I also realized it would be better if she didn't know.

I said, "I was just thinking about Moto's circuitry. You wouldn't find it very interesting."

She looked at me skeptically. _"That's_ what made you jump?"

"Well, _I_ found it interesting."

Luma rolled her eyes.

I said, "I think I'll go up to my room now."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I often spend Sundays in my room, watching TV. Channel 2 shows baseball games all day long, and for a while I found the sport interesting. I processed all the statistics for every player and every team, in both leagues, from 1903 until Game 6 of the 1959 World Series. After I'd watched every game in the archives, though, there wasn't anything more to be done, so I started watching Channel 5 instead.

Channel 5 shows Hollywood films from the 1930's, 40's and 50's, which I find entertaining. The schedule is fairly repetitive, though, so once I've finished watching a movie I delete the memories. Otherwise, I would grow tired of them, as I did of baseball games.

Today, though, I had no interest whatsoever in TV. I turned it on and set the volume so that everyone would think I was watching, then lay down on my bed and closed out my auditory functions. I shut my eyes and experienced the memories I had of building TEO's. I went over them a number of times, until I was certain I could do it myself.

These weren't my memories at all, of course. They were Joseph Clay's memories. GR scientists have been trying to upload human memories into processor banks for a long time. My father seemed to have figured it out 100 years ago.

But why had he transferred those memories to me? Obviously, he wanted me to build TEO's, but to what end?

Understanding the design was only the first step. Beyond that lay obstacles of every sort. My father was working over 100 years ago, and all the parts he used were now obsolete. It would be relatively easy to salvage them from 21st Century computers, but where would I find any? No one in Dome Nine, or in any other Dome, is allowed to possess computers of any kind, antique or otherwise. And, on a practical level, I had no workshop or tools. On top of that, I would have to build these TEO's in secret.

As if that weren't enough, there was one more obstacle. The secret to the TEO's success lay in the pattern of its wiring, the web that linked all the processors together. The pattern was extremely complex, but the real problem was the material. I'd never seen wiring of that kind anywhere.

All of which left me at a dead end. I decided to do something else.

It occurred to me that I'd never reread any of the entries I'd made in these diaries, so I went back and read them all. There were 36,509 entries, though, and by the time I'd read through all of them it was 5:12 PM.

Unfortunately, the effort was a waste of time. The entries were devoid of any insight. Most of them simply listed the day's events, without comment.

But they did make me think back on all the guardians I'd known, and suddenly my own situation struck me as bizarre. I saw myself frozen in time as my guardians moved through it, first as infants, then as playmates, then as older siblings, and finally as parents of a sort. Before too long, Luma would be old enough to be my mother.

I found this idea unpleasant, and turned my thoughts to Drake instead.

Drake disliked me from the day he was born. As a baby, he would fuss and cry whenever I came near. As a child, he refused to play with me. Later, he did his fair share of bullying. When his mother died and I needed a new guardian, he did everything possible to avoid being named. Now that he's responsible for me, he doesn't try to hide his dislike and acts as though I'm a burden. He would rid himself of me if he could.

When I came downstairs for supper, I found Drake stretched out on the sofa, a martini glass on the coffee table, watching a New York Giants game. I sat down in the armchair and started watching with him.

I said, "This is the game where Hank Thompson hits two inside-the-park home runs."

Drake kept his eyes on the screen. "Thanks for ruining it for me."

Moto was curled up at Drake's feet. When she heard my voice, she hopped off the sofa and came over to me, tail wagging.

I said, "Hey, Moto, would you like to play a game?"

One bark.

Drake glanced at her. "Shut up or I'll sell you for parts."

Moto whimpered and put her tail between her legs. I tried to cheer her up by taking her into the den to play checkers.

Real dogs didn't have hands, of course, but iPups do, because their main function is to play with children. Moto unfolded her front paws into hands and began setting up the board.

We never started the game because Eppi called us for supper. Luma came down the stairs two at a time and jumped the last four, landing with a boom that made Drake wince.

Eppi cooked hamburgers tonight, which Luma loves. Luma always talks about eating a real hamburger someday, one made from beef and served on a bun made from wheat flour. I always tell her it's impossible, but she says that if you believe in something hard enough it will come true. When I tell her she should wish for something else, she says, "I wish you'd keep your big mouth shut."

After supper was over and I finished my chores, I went back upstairs and lay down on my bed. Channel 5 was showing _Bringing Up Baby._ I decided I'd done enough thinking for one day. I watched it until shutdown and deleted the memories.

_Entry complete_.

### Chapter 6

10.16.2173.9:29PM

I heard Bim Crawfield speak for the first time today. Bim is a classmate of mine. He was in my class last year, too, because he's repeating 5th grade. He's repeated every grade since kindergarten, which means he's about 16 years old now, but he's exceptionally small and scrawny.

Bim does poorly in school because he never says a word and won't complete his work. He seems to be able to read and write, but he always leaves his pages completely blank: homework, tests, everything.

Bim's father was killed in the war before Bim was born, then his mother fell ill and died. He's lived in other orphanages in other Domes, but now he's living at the Blessed Savior Home. This accounts for his ragged clothing and thatched yellow hair.

Bim spoke to me in art class, at the very end of the school day. Luma and I were in the art room, along with Bim and seven other kids. Art is Bim's best subject, in the sense that he actually sets pencil to paper. His drawings are dense and finely detailed and indecipherable.

Our new art teacher, Miss Veiny, had taken some of the boys down to the gym to get changed for practice. I was sitting by the window, watching Luma work on her picture. I used to be able to participate in art class, but Miss Veiny established a new policy this year.

Bim got up from the table and walked toward me. I was surprised to see his lips moving. He walked past me to the pencil sharpener, speaking so softly that no one else in the room could have possibly heard him.

He said, "Dogan is planning to attack you again. Keep an eye on Luma."

Then he sharpened his pencil and went back to his seat.

Shortly after Miss Veiny returned, the bell rang and school let out for the day. As we were filing out the door, Miss Veiny took my arm and pulled me aside. Luma continued on, unaware. I watched her turn the corner and disappear.

Miss Veiny is middle-aged and unmarried, and wears the same black, floor-length dress every day. Despite being new to the job, she's widely regarded as the meanest teacher at Ryesong Elementary.

She scattered a tub of crayons across the floor. Digging her fingernails into my arm, she said, "Now look what you've done. Clean it up." She released me with a shove.

I'd seen her do the same thing to the JaniTrons. I picked up the crayons as quickly as possible, but there were 449 of them.

When I finally handed the tub to her, she said, "Run along and play now."

I hurried from the building, trying to find Luma, but there was no sign of her. Principal Gumm was standing by the entrance, as he always does at dismissal. I approached him, saying, "Have you seen Luma Jomes?"

He seemed startled that I could actually speak. "Yes, I have! I saw her walking out to the diamonds with Jeffrey Spags. They were headed for the diamonds."

Spags is Dogan's best friend.

I looked across the parking lot to the diamonds. Kids were milling about, swinging bats and playing catch, but Luma was nowhere to be seen. The bleachers were on the far side of the field and I had to magnify the image. At 10X, though, I could make out a cluster of kids hiding around back, and caught a glimpse of Luma's profile.

I sprinted across the parking lot toward the bleachers, which seemed to rush forward to meet me. It only took 11 seconds to cover 250 yards.

I came around behind the bleachers and stopped short. There stood Dogan Nath with five of his teammates, all in uniform. Except for Spags, who had Luma by the arms, they were all holding baseball bats.

Dogan's face was flushed. "I told you I was going to smash you to pieces."

I said, "I'd rather be your friend than your enemy."

For a moment, confusion crossed his face, but he shook it off. He turned to his friends, saying, "Swing for the fences."

As they spread out around me, time slowed down.

I've always been able to think much faster than I can act, although I've never understood why. I've just accepted it as a design limitation. Now, as Dogan's bat traveled in a graceful arc toward my head, I discovered that my body could move as quickly as my mind.

I caught Dogan's bat, twisted it from his grasp, and snapped it over my knee. As I dropped to a crouch, a second bat sailed lazily overhead. A third bat came down at me from above, so I shifted to the left and watched it pass by. As I jumped to my feet, I caught a fourth bat, twisted it free, and tossed it over the bleachers. The fifth bat wasn't in motion, so I turned back to see what had happened to the two bats I'd dodged. Both were in midair, traveling away from me, as the boys raised them for a second swing. I grabbed one and snapped it, then the other. When I looked again, the fifth bat was on its way to the ground, tossed aside. I turned to see Dogan's fist approaching my face. I blocked it with the palm of my hand and closed my fingers around it.

And there we stood.

I looked Dogan in the eye. "I'd rather be your friend than your enemy."

I tightened my grip on his fist, causing him to wince, then released it.

The other five boys were backing away now, mouths hanging open. Luma looked just as stunned. I reached down and picked up the unbroken bat. Dogan and his teammates turned and ran.

It took Luma a moment to find her voice. "Teo... When... How did you _do_ that?"

I said, "I'm as surprised as you are."

"You were just a blur!"

"It must be the new program code. My reflexes are much faster now, and I can run much faster, too."

Luma took a couple of steps toward me. "Teo, I was really scared!"

"Dogan would never hurt _you,_ Luma _._ He takes his anger out on me because I'm _not_ human."

"I hate his guts!"

"You shouldn't. He's scared too."

_"He's_ scared? Scared of what?"

"I don't know, but I can see it in his eyes."

She thought for a moment. "I still hate his guts."

"Come on, let's go home."

As we were rounding the bleachers, Bim Crawfield appeared out of nowhere.

He looked at me, ignoring Luma. "I knew you'd win."

Luma didn't hear him. She said, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Bim kept his eyes on me. "I turned invisible and followed Luma. I watched the whole thing."

Luma leaned toward him. "Huh?"

I said to Bim, "How did you know I'd win?"

"Because you were created by Joseph Clay."

Luma scowled. "What is he _saying?"_

I was too surprised to reply to her. "You know about my father?"

"I know about a lot of things."

Luma glared at Bim. "Would you _please_ speak up!"

Bim glanced at her, then back at me. "Please tell Luma I can't speak any louder."

I turned to her. "Don't be angry, Luma. Bim is speaking as loudly as he can. Not only that, he warned me about Dogan's plan. He's a hero."

Luma gave me a look.

"I'm serious."

She sighed. "Sorry, Bim. Thanks for helping." She grabbed my arm. "Come on, Teo, we have to get home or Mom will call Dad and we'll get in trouble again."

Bim said, "Speaking of trouble, Miss Veiny's just getting started."

Luma couldn't hear this either. She said, "Grrr..." and stomped off toward home.

I said, "What do you mean?"

"You'll find out tomorrow. Tell Dogan that his father is alive and we're going to find him."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell Dogan that his father is alive and we're going to find him."

"How do you know about Dogan's father?"

"I know about a lot of things. You should catch up with Luma now."

He was right. I said, "Okay. See you tomorrow."

When I drew even with Luma, she said, "That kid is _so_ annoying!"

"Maybe, but I've never heard anyone say so many astounding things."

" _I didn't hear him say anything!"_

"I understand, Luma, but listen to me."

I recounted my conversation with Bim word-for-word. When I finished, Luma said, "Do you really think he can turn invisible?"

"No."

"Me neither. But I bet he _feels_ invisible most of the time."

"I suppose so."

"And what did he mean about Miss Veiny?"

"I'm not sure, but she must have been working with Dogan because she trapped me in the art room."

Luma nodded. "So _that's_ what happened. When I got outside, I couldn't find you anywhere. Then Spags told me you were at the baseball diamonds. It didn't make sense, but I _trusted_ him." Her eyes glittered. "Just wait till I get my hands on him!"

I said, "How can Bim possibly know anything about Dogan's father?"

"Do you believe him?"

"He knew about _my_ father and I don't see how that's possible, either."

We walked in silence for a time. When we were almost home, Luma stopped.

She turned to me, her face serious. "Teo, I've been thinking. You said things are changing in your programs, right?"

"Yes."

"Did I see you squeeze Dogan's hand?"

"Yes."

"Teo, if people know you can hurt them, I'm afraid of what they'll do to you."

"I know. It was a mistake."

"Then why did you do it?"

I didn't have a good answer. I said, "I just wanted to."

Which wasn't really an answer at all.

"Luma, will you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Don't tell your mother or father about what happened today. And when they find out, don't say anything about Dogan's hand."

Luma gave me a shove. "Of course I won't! It's a secret! We can't let _anybody_ know!"

I've given it some thought tonight and Luma is right. Whatever changes are taking place inside me, I have to hide them from everyone I know, including Mr. Wu.

Especially Mr. Wu.

Entry complete.

### Chapter 7

10.17.2173.9:29PM

The trouble Bim spoke of started early in the school day.

As always, we began the morning with the Pledge of Eternal Gratitude, which requires us to close our eyes and bow our heads in prayer to our Savior, Kim Jong-pil. Any disobedience is swiftly punished. Given what I knew about Miss Green, though, I thought it safe to open my eyes.

Bim was looking out the window, elbows on his desk and chin in his hands. Bim has always refused to recite the Pledge. He's been punished for it so many times that they finally decided it was a waste of effort.

Miss Green was looking out the window, too. Caught at an unguarded moment, she looked worried. As the Pledge came to an end, though, she regained her usual expression of cheerful determination.

Reading was our first activity. As we broke up into groups, Bim walked up to me and said, "I'm coming to your house after school."

I said, "That isn't possible. I always drop off Luma and go straight to work."

Bim said, "Not today."

Just then, the door opened and Miss Veiny strode into the room, Principal Gumm following behind her. They took their places at the head of the class and silence fell over the room. It stretched on and on until Miss Veiny elbowed Principal Gumm in the ribs. He cleared his throat and said, "I want to see Dogan Nath and Teo Jomes, in my office immediately! Right now!"

I glanced at Dogan as we made our way to the front of the room. He didn't look the least bit surprised. I followed him out the door.

Miss Veiny led us down the hallway toward the office, Principal Gumm hurrying to keep up. Dogan was in front of me and I grabbed the waist of his pants, bringing him to a sudden halt. When he turned, I saw the fear in his eyes. I leaned in close. "Your father is alive and we're going to help you find him."

I spoke softly enough that Miss Veiny couldn't make out the words, but she heard my voice.

She spun around, skirts billowing. "Who told you to speak? Get over here!"

When I came within reach, she cuffed me on the ear, saying, "Lucky for you I'm in a good mood!"

When we entered the office, I saw Eppi sitting in front of the Principal's desk, expression anxious. To her left sat Stella Nath, looking down her nose at me. I took my place next to Eppi, and Dogan took his next to Stella. Miss Veiny withdrew to the corner of the room and stood against the wall, arms folded.

Principal Gumm sat down behind his desk and looked at Dogan and me. "We just told your mothers about yesterday's incident at the diamonds, which took place after school yesterday. We would like the two of you to give us _your_ two sides of the story. Then we'll see which story is true, or untrue, and get to the truth, or untruth, of this matter."

I said, "Have you talked to the other boys who were there?"

Principal Gumm scowled at me for speaking out of turn. "I assure you we haven't spoken to them before, on any previous occasion."

"Then you must have heard Dogan's side already. Otherwise, you wouldn't know it happened at all."

Principal Gumm reddened. "Well, obviously we conversed with the people we've spoken with..."

Miss Veiny stepped forward. "We heard from a number of parents last night, very distraught parents. And then there's physical evidence, such as the vandalized baseball bats. And, of course..." Miss Veiny looked into my eyes, "...there's Dogan's hand."

Principal Gumm was glaring at me. "And I've heard from _you_ all I wish to hear out of _you!_ I'd like to hear what Dogan has to say and get _his_ side. Dogan?"

Since taking his seat, Dogan had done nothing but stare at the floor. Now he roused himself and looked around the room. His eyes came to rest on mine.

Then he turned to Principal Gumm. "What I said before wasn't true. Teo didn't do anything. I tricked him into coming to the bleachers. We were waiting there with baseball bats and we tried to smash him to pieces."

His words left the adults in the room agape, except for Eppi, who just looked bewildered.

Stella turned on her son. "Dogan Bertram Nath, have you been lying to _me?"_

Principal Gumm said, "I'm assuming this is an assumption..."

Miss Veiny crossed the room and grabbed Dogan's wrist. "All lies, eh? Then how do you explain _this?"_

She held up his hand and twisted it, so that everyone could see the back. Just below Dogan's knuckles lay a neat line of purples circles, four of them, the bruises my fingertips had made when I'd squeezed his hand.

Dogan said, "I... I made those myself. With my cleats. Just to get Teo in trouble."

Miss Veiny twisted his hand again. "That's a lie! I'll have the truth from you yet!"

Dogan yanked his hand away. "Let go of me, you old bat!"

As Miss Veiny raised her hand to slap him, Stella Nath jumped in between them.

She put her face up to Miss Veiny's. "If you _ever_ touch my son again, you'll be packing your crayons for the Arctic!" She turned to Principal Gumm. "Isn't that right, Francis?"

He said, "Everyone, please! There's no use in everyone being...uncalm."

Miss Veiny turned and stormed out of the office.

Principal Gumm ran his hand down his face. He gestured vaguely to Dogan. "You can rejoin your classmates in class now."

As Dogan headed for the door, Principal Gumm turned to me. "And _you_ will have in-home detention for the rest of the week, _in your home!"_ He turned to Eppi. "I trust we can trust you to enforce that, Mrs. Jomes?"

Eppi nodded vacantly.

Principal Gumm showed us out, then retreated back to his office, and Stella Nath, closing the door behind him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When we got to the Impala, I climbed straight into the back from the passenger side while Eppi walked around to her door. I found Bim Crawfield in the backseat with me, sitting behind the driver's seat.

He said, "Be quiet, I'm invisible."

I could see him just fine, but Eppi got in and drove away without noticing him. When we pulled up to the house, she parked in the driveway, got out, and went inside without once looking into the backseat.

Bim said, "Meet me at ten o'clock and we'll go to my house."

I said, "I can't, they gave me in-home detention."

"You shouldn't let that stop you."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"I have a book about your father."

That changed everything.

I said, "All right, ten o'clock."

I went into the house, leaving him sitting in the Impala.

Eppi was in the laundry room, loading clothes into the washing machine. When I walked in, she looked up in alarm.

I said, "What's the matter, Eppi?"

She looked down at the laundry. "Nothing."

"Yes there is. What did they tell you at school?"

She glanced at me apprehensively. "They told us that you attacked Dogan Nath and his friends."

"But you heard Dogan. They were the ones who attacked me."

"That wasn't his original story."

"But it's the truth."

"What about his hand? I don't believe he made those marks himself."

Much to my surprise, I lied. "Eppi, I did _not_ hurt Dogan's hand. I'm not capable of it. And you know I would never hurt you or Luma or anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Teo. I don't know what to believe."

"What else can I say to convince you?"

She looked away. "I don't know. That's why I have to lock you in your room. I'm sorry. Please go upstairs now."

"Of course."

"And no work today. After Drake gets home and we've had a chance to talk, I'll unlock the door."

"Will you please let Mr. Wu know I'm not coming in?"

She turned back to me, nodding. "I'll call DynaLink as soon as you're in your room."

"May I watch TV?"

"Yes, of course. I'm not trying to punish you."

"I understand."

Eppi locked my door at 9:03 AM. I turned on Channel 5 and watched the end of a movie called _Shane._ A gunslinger of the same name was trying to stop cattle ranchers from driving settlers off their claims.

I was struck by the fact that this cowboy lived by a code that determined his actions. He was intent on doing what was right, regardless of his own best interests, even to the point of risking his life. I found this idea so extraordinary that I decided to store the movie instead of deleting it.

At 9:57 AM, Eppi started vacuuming the living room. I climbed out my window and dropped 15 feet to the ground, landing outside the dining room.

I wasn't sure where Bim was planning to meet me and it took a minute to find him. He was still sitting in the Impala. When he saw me, he opened the door and climbed out.

He said, "Do you know where I live?"

"At Blessed Savior, over on Bliss Street, in South Rim."

"Can you calculate the shortest route from here?"

"Yes."

"Then lead the way, please."

We walked to the corner and turned south on A.Q. Khan Boulevard.

I said, "How long have you lived at Blessed Savior?"

"You don't have to make conversation."

"All right."

We walked in silence. 17 minutes later, Blessed Savior came into view, a huge, decaying building that's one of the oldest structures in Dome Nine.

When we reached Bliss Street, Bim turned right, away from the orphanage. We took a long detour and approached the building from the back, through a vacant lot overgrown with weeds.

When we reached the building's foundation, Bim led me to a bulkhead and opened the doors silently. I followed him down the stairs, closing the doors gently behind me, and watched him get down on hands and knees and squeeze through a small rectangular opening. As I squeezed through after him, I figured out what was going on: Bim had created a secret passageway in and out of the building by detaching one of the lower panels on the basement door. As I got to my feet, Bim wedged the panel back into place.

I found myself in a large, empty room that was little more than a dungeon. There were no interior walls, just the dank stone of the foundation. The floor was bare concrete. What little light there was came from a single, barred window. The air was chilly.

I said, "Is this really your room?"

Bim gestured toward the shadows. "We can sit on my bed."

In the corner of the room stood a cot, covered by a thin blanket, and a small table that supported a heavy candlestick. We sat down side by side on the edge of the cot.

I said, "Why do they make you live down here?"

"They've been punishing me ever since I arrived."

"Because you won't bow to our Savior?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you? What difference does it make?"

"Kim Jong-pil never saved anyone. Just the opposite."

"How do you know?"

"I know about a lot of things. Would you like to see the book?"

"Please."

Bim knelt down by the wall and wiggled a foundation stone free, revealing a hiding place. He removed the book and handed it to me.

The dust jacket had faded, but the colors must have been garish when it was new. In italicized red typeface, the title read: _Feats of Clay!_ The subtitle was printed in yellow typeface: _Will One Man's Androids Save America or Shred the Constitution, Confiscate Our Guns, and Strip Us of Our Freedom?"_

There was no picture of my father on the cover. I flipped through the pages and found no photographs inside, either.

Bim said, "It was written without your father's cooperation. I'm afraid it's not very good."

"That doesn't matter. May I borrow it?"

"That would be risky. Why don't you scan it into memory?"

"You understand a lot about androids."

"I read everything about them I can find. "

The book was only 211 pages and the typeface was large. By reducing my comprehension level to zero, I was able to scan it in at 1.3 seconds per page. It took 4 minutes 33 seconds. Bim sat patiently as I scanned.

When I'd finished, I handed the book back to him. As he returned it to its hiding place, I said, "Where on earth did you get that?"

"At the library."

"What library?"

Bim ignored the question. "The author didn't understand anything about android technology. I didn't find any clues at all."

"Clues to what?"

"The Trans-processor External Overlay. I'm trying to build one."

This took me by surprise. "How can you possibly do that?"

"I have almost everything I need. I'm just trying to work out the design."

"You have all the necessary parts?"

"Except one. They're downstairs. Would you like to see?"

"Downstairs?"

"Here, I'll show you."

Bim led me to the opposite corner of the room, to a stack of old cinderblocks. "Could you please help me? I can only move them one at a time."

There were 36 cinderblocks, stacked in 6 layers of 6. Moving them in groups of 3, the task took me 1 minute 17 seconds. It was hard to imagine Bim moving even one cinderblock.

As I cleared the final layer, I could see what they were concealing. A manhole was embedded in the concrete floor.

I said, "Where does this lead?"

"To a maintenance tunnel. Could you lift the cover? It's difficult for me."

I removed the cover and set it down quietly. Bim climbed backwards into the manhole and descended the ladder. He flipped a switch and light flooded up from below. I followed him down, pausing to set the cover back in place.

When I reached bottom, I found myself in a rectangular chamber. Built into the far wall was a brick archway, the entrance to a tunnel that stretched away into darkness.

More remarkable still, the chamber was strewn with dozens of 21st Century computers in various stages of disassembly. In the center of this debris stood a folding table and chair. A soldering gun and a desk lamp rested on the tabletop. Pieces of paper, covered with Bim's dense scrawl, were scattered everywhere.

Bim said, "This is my workshop."

"Where did you get all these computers?"

"If there's one thing that's easy to find Outside, it's computers."

"You got all of this Outside?"

"Yes."

"You've been Outside?"

"Many times."

"But how?"

"You walk through the storm drains. That tunnel leads to another manhole. You just climb down and follow the pipes."

"Where does that take you?"

"Any number of places. Do you want to see what I've been working on?"

"Very much."

We picked our way through the debris to the table. Bim had organized dozens of processors into separate piles, and lined up various circuit boards.

"I think I have the right motherboard, and most of the right processors, but I don't know the right order, so I haven't attached anything."

"What about the wiring?"

"That's the most important part. I'm pretty sure it's something your father invented himself. That's why no one's been able to build more TEO's."

I said, "Without the wiring, I don't see how we're going to build one, either."

Bim said, "I've thought about this a lot. Your father was still finishing you during the Invasion. I'm pretty sure he would have added your TEO's last. So he must've taken the wiring material with him when he went into hiding. We know he didn't want UNK/C building any TEO's..."

I understood what Bim was getting at. I said, "...so he either destroyed all the wiring material or he hid it somewhere."

"Yes. Either way, I don't see how I'll ever find it."

Bim's reasoning was sound, but he lacked one important piece of information.

I said, "Bim, my father _wanted_ me to build TEO's. He wouldn't have destroyed the wiring material. He would have hidden it where I could find it, no matter what."

Bim looked up at me. "Your hair."

I decided that Bim was the smartest human being I'd ever met.

Bim said, "How do you know your father wanted you to build TEO's?"

I said, "I know about a lot of things."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We spent the next 3 hours 17 minutes building a prototype TEO. As we worked, I told Bim about everything that had happened over the last 6 days.

My fine motor skills had improved by 973%, which allowed me to quickly create the webbing that surrounded the processors. I used 567 strands of hair, not enough to change my appearance.

We finished at 2: 07 PM, beating our deadline by 3 minutes. Bim had to get back to school before it let out, and I had to get home before Luma did. Once Eppi told her what was going on, Luma would try to break down my door.

I went up the ladder, carrying our prototype TEO and the soldering gun, and dislodged the manhole cover. After Bim climbed up, I lowered the cover back into place and restacked the cinderblocks. Then we crawled out through the secret panel and went our separate ways.

I arrived at Blessing Street at 2:27 PM, but stopped at the corner and stayed out of sight until I saw Eppi drive off to pick up Luma at school.

My window was still open, but I had to jump 15 feet to reach the sill, a problem I hadn't considered on my way out. With a running start, though, this proved easy to do. I hoisted myself over the sill and into my room, shutting the window behind me.

I came in on a movie that puzzled me. A man and a woman were racing around Mount Rushmore, pursued by two villains. I didn't recognize the four gigantic faces carved into the mountainside. In every photograph I'd ever seen, the portraits on Mount Rushmore were of our Founding Father, Trip Savage, our Savior, Kim Jong-pil, his Son, Kim Jong-suk, and our Beloved Leader, Kim Jong-oy. I considered the possibility that the original faces had been covered over.

At 2:39 PM, Luma came thundering up the stairs and rattled my doorknob, calling through the door. Eppi must have explained the situation to her in the car.

She said, "Teo! Are you okay?"

I turned off the TV and went to the door. "Hi, Luma. I'm fine."

"I can't believe this! How could Mom lock you in your room? She's gone crazy!"

"Luma, put your ear up to the door so I can speak quietly. Don't say anything, just listen."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"First of all, I'm not really locked in. I can climb out the window anytime I want to. But right now I need you to promise me something. After Drake gets home and they let me out, _don't_ agree with anything I say. Either don't say anything, or agree with Drake if you have to."

"All right."

"But there's also something I _do_ want you to say: ask your dad to let me have Moto up here, to keep me company tomorrow. Keep asking until he agrees, okay?"

"Okay. But Teo, you can't let them—"

"Luma, that's all for now. I'll see you when they let me out."

"All right..."

I turned the TV back on and sat down on my bed.

I lay back on my pillow, closed my eyes, and read _Feats of Clay,_ which was published in 2063 _._

As Bim had warned me, it wasn't very good. The author, Pebbles Palin, clearly hated Joseph Clay but seemed to know nothing about him. Her purpose in writing the book, it appeared, was to expose my father's secret plan to build an army of super-robots that would rid the entire country of its guns and enslave the population. She claimed this would happen without fail if President Timberlake were reelected, and advocated issuing shoulder-fired missiles to every U.S. citizen.

As proof of this plan, she quoted a statement Joseph Clay had released to the press the year before. These were the only words in the entire book that came directly from my father. It read:

" _Our planet is dying. If nothing changes, the day is coming when Earth will no longer sustain life. I am therefore in the process of designing a new android, one that is lifelike in every way and can think as we do. These new androids may offer our only hope for survival. If we succeed in transferring the contents of our own human minds—minus our primitive instincts—into the artificial minds of these androids, we may do more than survive. We may ultimately reach our true potential as a species."_

_Feats of Clay_ was disappointing in every respect, but I was grateful for this short passage. I was certain my father had been referring to me.

Eppi didn't unlock my door until 7:17 PM, two hours after Drake got home from DynaLink. This meant, of course, that he'd had a number of drinks in the interim.

When we came downstairs, he was sitting in his armchair, holding his martini with exaggerated care. Luma was flopped on the sofa, looking miserable.

Drake looked up. "Here's the mighty robot now."

I said, "Hi, Drake."

As Eppi and I crossed the threshold into the living room, he held up his hand. "That's close enough! Eppi, go sit with Luma."

Eppi went over to the sofa and sat down, looking tense.

I stood at the threshold, waiting. "May I please come in?"

Drake sneered. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Well, I'm not taking any chances."

"Drake, you've known me all your life. You know I've never hurt anyone. You know it's not possible."

"You want to talk about possible? How about androids running around, breaking baseball bats and threatening their classmates? How's that for possible?"

"I never threatened anyone. They—"

"Shut your mouth! Eppi tells me you might have hurt that boy's hand. Until I have proof that you didn't, I don't want you coming anywhere near my family!"

Even I hadn't expected Drake to go that far.

It was too much for Luma to bear. She jumped up. "It's not _your_ family, Daddy, it's _our_ family, and Teo's part of it!" She turned to Eppi. "Right, Mom?"

Eppi avoided her gaze. "Please, honey, don't interrupt your father."

"But Mom!"

Drake said, "Sit down, pumpkin."

"I'm not a pumpkin!"

"Luma, _sit!"_

I said, "Please, Drake, don't keep me locked in my room. There's nothing to do up there except watch TV."

"You should've thought of that before you started breaking bats!"

"If you want me to keep away from you, perhaps I could stay at work."

"Why? So Mr. Wu can throw you another party? Not a chance!"

"You could at least ask him."

"Don't tell me what to do! I don't work for that old hen, you do! And if you think you're getting a big vacation out of this, think again!"

"So you're going to keep me locked in my room."

"Wow, Teo, you are _so_ perceptive!"

I looked at Luma.

She said, "Daddy, if you're going to make Teo stay in his room, would you at least let him have Moto up there, to keep him company?"

Drake said, "Absolutely not!"

"I know you're mad at Teo, Daddy, but could you do it for _me_? As a favor? Please?"

Eppi spoke up. "I think that's reasonable, don't you Drake?" She gave him a hopeful little smile.

Drake said, "All right, fine! They're perfect for each other." He turned to me. "But not tonight! Go back to your room now!"

When I was halfway up the stairs, the doorbell rang. I stopped and waited for Eppi to answer it, curious to see who it was. Eppi swung the front door open and there stood Stella Nath, holding Dogan by the ear.

She said, "May we please come in? Dogan has something to say."

Eppi said, "Of course you may." She called over her shoulder. "Drake, it's the Naths."

As Drake came out to greet them, he noticed me standing on the stairs. "Up to your room! _Now!"_

At 7:49 PM, my door opened and Luma walked in.

I said, "They forgot to lock me in."

Luma sat down next to me on the bed. "I _hate_ my father! I'm going to run away from home!"

"What happened with the Naths?"

"Dogan's mom made him apologize for causing the whole mess."

"What about his hand?"

"He had his cleats with him. He showed them how he made the bruises. The marks didn't match up, but they believed him."

"Then our secret is safe."

She brightened a little. "For now, anyway."

"The only problem is that I have to go back to school."

"No you don't. I told Dad that detention was supposed to last the whole week and he went for it. You're locked up till Sunday."

"Thank you, Luma. And thanks for helping me with Moto."

"Teo?"

"Yes?"

"I really _do_ hate my dad, and I _am_ going to run away."

"Would you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Wait till Sunday."

"I don't know if I can..."

"You have to. Pinkie swear?"

Luma extended her pinkie and tried to wrap it around mine, but I pulled my hand away. She gave me a quizzical look. Then I extended _my_ pinkie and wrapped it around hers.

She broke into a huge smile. "Don't let _Drake_ see you do that!"

After Luma left, I lay in bed, thinking about Bim. It had taken a lot of effort, not to mention courage, to go Outside and find those computers and haul them all the way back to Blessed Savior. I found his example inspiring, which is why I wanted Drake to keep me locked up, away from school and work.

I hope the next few days will offer me the chance to go Outside myself.

Entry complete.

### Chapter 8

10.18.2173.9:14PM

Luma brought Moto up to my room before school. After Eppi locked me in, I opened Moto's storage compartment and took out the hex wrenches Luma had hidden there. The operation was going to be risky, so I played with Moto for a while and gave her lots of affection. Then I shut her down. She curled up on the rug and closed her eyes, and her processor banks went dead.

I had no trouble accessing Moto's circuitry, because iVets have to replace processors all the time. With the help of 117 strands of hair and the soldering gun, I wired the TEO to her processor banks. By 8:27 AM, Moto was reassembled and back in place, curled up on the rug.

I picked up her remote to turn her back on, then hesitated. There was a chance that the TEO would burn out all her processors and put an end to her.

I pressed the power button. Nothing happened. I pressed it again. Still nothing. I pressed it a third time. Nothing.

Suddenly, the whole experiment seemed a terrible mistake and I wished there were some way to undo it. The intensity of my own reaction surprised me. Why should I care if Moto burned out, when she could be replaced by an identical unit?

Then I noticed she was breathing. She had powered up, after all, and now she was asleep. Truly, deeply asleep.

This was very encouraging. When I shut down, my processor banks remain active. It seemed likely that Moto's processor banks were active now, too. If so, her processors were busy establishing new connections with each other. I let her sleep.

Moto slept for 2 hours 25 minutes. At 10:52, she opened her eyes, hopped to her feet, and barked three times. This was her normal start up routine, and I asked her the usual question. "What is it, Moto? Would you like to play a game?"

One bark.

"What would you like to play? Fetch?"

One bark.

"I don't see how we can play fetch up here in my room."

She raced over to the window and put her paws up on the sill, looking at me over her shoulder.

I hadn't planned on going out, but I knew Eppi was sitting in the living room watching her weekday lineup: _The Guiding Light, As the World Turns_ and _The Edge of Night._ For the next hour and a half, she wouldn't give any thought to us at all.

I opened the window. "Now, Moto, you're going to have to—"

Moto made a running start and leapt over the sill. She hit the ground, tumbled across the grass, jumped to her feet, and took off down Blessing Street.

There was no time to hang and drop, so I made a running start of my own. I dove out the window, somersaulted in the air, and landed on my feet.

Moto was already 50 yards ahead of me, running much faster than she'd ever run before. I knew I couldn't catch up with her. Wherever she was going, all I could do was keep pace and follow.

She dashed across Salvation, which happened to be free of traffic, and turned south. She seemed to be headed straight for the school, then veered west onto Glory Street and looped around it, plunging into the woods. We emerged beyond the baseball diamonds, in back of the bleachers.

In the distance, I could see Dogan Nath standing just about where he'd stood during the attack. He was holding Bim by his shirtfront and shaking him, saying, "Where's my father? Talk to me! Tell me where he is!"

Moto made a beeline for the two of them. She leapt into the air and butted Dogan in the stomach, taking him down and knocking the wind out of him.

I ran up to Bim. "Bim, are you all right?"

He seemed unfazed. "Please tell Dogan I can't speak any louder."

Dogan was flat on his back, holding his stomach and gasping for air. Moto was crouched on his chest, growling. I was still holding her remote and considered shutting her down, then decided against it.

I turned back to Bim, "I'll tell him in a minute. First, explain to me how you know his father is alive."

"I'm not positive he's alive, but I know he wasn't killed in the war."

"How do you know?"

"Because there isn't any war."

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly that. There isn't any war."

"How can that be? According to the GR, the Goths are constantly attacking the Domes."

"Of course that's what they say. Anyway, the GR doesn't need foot soldiers. Everything's done by drones."

"But young men are constantly being drafted."

"Not to fight. Most of them are sent to the Arctic, to work the farmlands and the oilfields."

"I find this difficult to believe."

"You don't have to believe me, Teo. Go have a look for yourself."

"You mean Outside."

"Yes. I doubt you'll see any drones at all."

"Then why is it so dangerous Outside?"

"Well, first of all, you have Queen Scarlett's Low-bots. Then there are the pythons."

"What pythons?"

"Burmese pythons, I believe. Tornados are a problem, too. They—"

Dogan got his breath back and interrupted us. "Get this thing off of me!"

I walked over and lifted Moto from his chest.

Dogan got to his feet and dusted himself off. "I'm sorry I grabbed Bim. He wouldn't talk to me and I just got mad. Could you tell me about my father now? Please?"

I said, "First you have to understand that Bim is speaking as loudly as he's able."

"Who cares? I don't want to talk to him anyway. Just tell me about my father."

I turned to Bim, wondering if Dogan's words had hurt his feelings. He was nowhere to be seen.

Dogan repeated himself. "Just tell me about my father."

"All I know is what Bim tells me, but it's possible he's alive and working in the Arctic."

"You mean _fighting_ in the Arctic."

"No, working, either in the farmlands or the oil fields."

"But my father is a _soldier."_

"Bim says there isn't any war."

"Up in the Arctic?"

"Anywhere."

"But there _has_ to be a war! That's how he was killed! That's what they told us!"

"It was probably a lie."

A voice cut in from above. "You're quite the expert on lies, aren't you?"

I looked up to see Miss Veiny standing on top row of the bleachers, leaning over the railing, gazing down at us.

She smiled at me, an unpleasant sight. "Hello, android, I see you've escaped from your room. Won't your guardians be surprised." She shifted her gaze to Dogan. "You disappoint me, young man. I thought we understood each other."

Dogan said, "Go to hell."

As the words were leaving his lips, Moto made another running start. The way she'd taken down Dogan proved she could attack humans, and now she had Miss Veiny in her sights. If she made the leap to the top of the bleachers, her secret would be out.

As she was about to spring, I hit the power button on her remote.

Moto dug her heels into the ground and skidded to a stop. Looking bewildered, she curled up and went to sleep on the grass.

Miss Veiny watched this with narrowed eyes. I hadn't fooled her.

She vaulted over the railing. As she dropped, her skirts floated upward, revealing blood red, high-heeled boots that extended past her knees.

She landed in a crouch next to Moto and examined the top of her head. Then she stood up and came toward me. "You've been tampering with her, haven't you? Hand over that remote!"

I don't know what possessed me, but I tossed the remote over Miss Veiny's head.

Dogan snatched it out of the air. As she came at him, he taunted her. "Try and get it, you creepy old hag!"

She lunged at the remote and he danced backwards, tossing it back to me.

Dogan expected her to turn and come after me again, but she was no longer interested in the remote.

She bore down on him. "So you want to play Monkey-in-the-Middle, do you?" She raised her hands, forming them into claws. "When I've torn the flesh from your face, we'll see who's the monkey!"

There was panic in Dogan's voice. "You can't do that! You're just the art teacher!"

Miss Veiny stopped short. She took a deep breath, regaining control, and lowered her hands. "That's right, Dogan, I'm just the art teacher. Of course. Forgive me."

The bell rang, ending recess.

Miss Veiny turned to me. "Goodbye, android. I'm taking Dogan back to class now. But first I'm going to call Eppi and tell her you're out of your room. As for your mechanical mutt, you can keep her for the moment. But just remember: every dog has its day!"

I watched Miss Veiny and Dogan round the bleachers and gave them an extra 5 seconds. That was as long as I could afford to wait. I hit the power button. Moto jumped to her feet and barked three times.

I said, "Moto, we've got to get home as quickly as possible. Take us back the way we came. Go!"

Moto tore through the woods and I followed. We burst out onto Glory Street and flew down to the intersection. Impalas were coming down Salvation in both directions, but Moto shot between them without breaking stride. I chose to jump the street entirely, sailing over the cars and landing on the opposite side. I don't think the drivers even saw us.

As we raced up Blessing Street, I could hear the telephone ringing in our kitchen. Moto tried to make the jump to my window and came up short by 2 feet. She rebounded off the side of the house and dropped into my arms. I heard Eppi answer the phone.

I lifted Moto over my head and jumped, tossing her through the open window. I dropped back down, jumped a second time, and got hold of the windowsill. As I hoisted myself into the room and closed the window, I could hear Eppi's footsteps on the stairs. I turned on the TV and flopped down on my bed, trying to look as though I'd been there for hours.

Moto seemed agitated, so I told her to set up the checkerboard.

The key rattled in the lock, the door opened, and Eppi peered into the room, looking puzzled.

I looked up from the TV. "Hi, Eppi."

"You art teacher is on the phone. She asked me to come up here and check your room."

"What time is it?"

Eppi looked at her watch. "10:48. Why would she do that?"

"I don't know."

Eppi looked at the floor. "Are you two going to play checkers?"

I followed her gaze. Moto was sitting by the checkerboard, waiting to start a game. She had set up the entire board in less than 10 seconds.

I said, "Yes. Yes, we are."

"That's nice. Have fun."

Eppi closed the door and locked it.

Moto looked at me and barked three times.

"What is it, Moto? Do you want to play checkers?"

One bark.

I had a lot to think about and would have preferred not to play. Moto, however, wasn't very good at checkers. I knew I wouldn't have to devote much attention to the game. I turned off the TV and sat down on the rug.

As we made our opening moves, my mind was on Miss Veiny. Her interest in me went far beyond the bounds of teaching art, to say the least. I wondered how she'd known I'd been locked in my room. That wasn't normally a part of in-home detention.

Moto's TEO wasn't making her any faster at checkers. She's programmed to play against young children and lose, so she constantly makes mistakes. I've let her win every game we've ever played.

Crossing paths with Miss Veiny had been a disaster. Tampering with an iPup was a serious crime. She could have Moto confiscated and examined, and once they opened her up the TEO would be sitting right there. I suspected Miss Veiny would know exactly what she was looking at.

I suddenly realized that Moto was winning. I started concentrating, but it still took a lot of effort to outplay her. I had to chase her kings all over the board before I finally won.

When the game was over, Moto stared at the board for a moment, then folded up her hands, put her tail between her legs, and began to whimper. I remembered, too late, that she had never lost a game before.

I picked her up and put her in my lap and patted her. This should have cheered her up but it didn't, so I said, "You played very well, Moto. You almost beat me. You should be proud of yourself."

The whimpering stopped. I patted her a little more and then she jumped to the floor and barked three times.

It struck me that Moto needed a better mode of communication. The checkers game proved that the TEO had boosted her ability to reason. Perhaps it had expanded her capacity for language, as well.

I said, "Moto, I want you to do something you've never done before. Will you give it a try?"

She barked once.

"Good. Instead of barking for 'yes,' I'd like you to nod, like this." I nodded my head. "Do you understand?"

One bark.

"No, Moto, don't bark. Nod."

She nodded.

"Very good! Now I want you to shake you head from side to side, like this. Can you do that?"

One bark.

"Don't bark, Moto. Nod for 'yes.'"

She nodded.

"Good. Now try shaking your head."

She shook her head.

"Good. That means 'no'. I want you to do that instead of barking twice. Do you understand?"

One bark.

"Don't bark, nod."

She nodded.

"Good. Now I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer 'no' by shaking your head. Do you understand?"

One bark.

"Don't bark, nod."

She nodded.

"Okay, here's the question: are you a fish?"

Two barks.

"No, Moto, don't bark. Shake your head."

She shook her head.

"Very good. Let's try another one. Are you a bird?"

Two barks.

"Don't bark. Shake your head."

It took almost an hour, and a lot of questioning, before Moto finally stopped barking her answers. On the other hand, without the TEO, she couldn't have done it at all.

I said, "Good job, Moto. Let's take a break."

She immediately curled up on the rug and closed her eyes. As far as I was concerned, she could sleep for as long as she liked. I had no plans until Luma got home from school.

I turned on Channel 5. They were showing a movie called _The Big Heat._ The hero, Dave Bannion, a police detective, confronts criminals wherever he finds them, unconcerned for his own safety. When this results in the death of his wife, he turns in his badge and pursues her killers on his own.

Here was another man who lived by a code and stood up for what was right, whatever the cost. At the same time, his own rage brings him to the point of committing murder himself.

I decided to store this movie instead of deleting it, as I had _Shane._

The next movie they showed was _The Thin Man,_ which was interesting in one respect: unlike Drake, Nick and Nora Charles managed to make martinis seem glamorous.

The couple happened to have a little dog named Asta. When she appeared onscreen, Moto awoke with a start and looked at the TV. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but Moto continued to watch, even after Asta departed. She had never paid the slightest attention to the television and now she was watching intently.

I switched to Channel 7, which broadcasts early American television shows. Dogs seemed to play an important role in 20th Century life and I hoped to find a show that included one. As luck would have it, we came across a show called _Lassie,_ which starred a highly intelligent dog who looked after a young boy named Timmy. Moto watched the entire episode, thumping her tail on the rug when Lassie saved Timmy from drowning.

Just as the show was ending, Luma came bounding up the stairs and over to my door. She leaned in close and whispered urgently. "Teo, are you there? I need to talk to you!"

I turned down the TV and went to the door. "Hi Luma. What's the matter?"

"It's Dogan! He's acting really weird and saying all this crazy stuff!"

"What do you mean?"

"He came up to me after lunch, hopping mad. He said he talked to you at recess. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"He said you told him there isn't any war, that it isn't real."

"That's what Bim says."

"But that's crazy!"

"I wouldn't rule it out."

Luma said, "Did you tell Dogan that his father wasn't a soldier?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, he said you did, and now he doesn't believe anything you say! He thinks you lied about finding his father!"

"That's understandable."

"But he said he was going to _tell_ on you, about how you hurt his hand!"

"Anything else?"

"Yeah! After school, he came up to me _again._ He said he had to talk to you, he was begging me, and he almost started crying! He kept saying, 'I have to find my daddy!'"

"I need to talk to him as soon as possible."

"There's one more thing. Bim gave me something to give to you. At least, I _think_ that's what he wanted. He wouldn't say a word to me. I felt like making him eat it!"

"Eat what?"

"I think it's some kind of map. Here, I'll slide it under the door."

Luma slipped me a sheet of paper that was covered in Bim's dense scrawl. It was indeed a map, although nothing on it was marked. The only words on the paper ran along the bottom edge. They read: _I've got no monkey at third._

Bim had sent me an anagram. Unscrambling it became the first order of business.

I said, "Luma, can you come back in five minutes? There's something I have to do."

"What about Dogan?"

"Did he go to practice?"

"Yes."

"Good. Come back in five minutes."

I assumed Bim's message was urgent. That meant I didn't have time to run through all the possible letter combinations.

Whatever Bim wanted me to know, it likely had to do with the episode at the bleachers. I decided to search for familiar names.

The presence of the letters V and Y led to an obvious guess, which was confirmed by the presence of E, I and N. I set the name VEINY aside and studied the remaining letters.

The D and G hinted at DOGAN, and I set that name aside as well. The next name jumped out at me: MOTO.

That left 7 letters, which could only be arranged into short, pointless words like HIT, TREK, KITE, and so on, always with useless letters left over. Something was wrong.

The names MOTO and VEINY made a sensible match. That made me question the name DOGAN, and I threw his letters back into the pool. Of the remaining letters, K was the least common, so I searched for a familiar name that contained a K. It took 1.3 seconds to hit upon DRAKE.

This was unexpected. As far as I knew, Drake had no connection to Miss Veiny or this morning's incident. A few seconds later, though, I had the proof I needed. The remaining letters spelled TONIGHT.

Bim's anagram read: _Veiny Drake Moto tonight._

The meaning seemed clear enough. Miss Veiny was coming for Moto tonight, after Drake returned from work. That didn't give me a lot of time.

Moto was still watching TV. When I turned it off, she immediately unfolded her hands and turned it back on. I turned it off again and said, "Moto, I need to talk to you."

She turned the TV back on again. I turned it off. She turned it on.

When she saw me pick up the remote, she began to whimper.

I said, "No more TV, Moto, time for bed," and hit the power button.

As Moto curled up on the rug, she gave me a last glance. I thought I saw reproach in her eyes.

iPup designers had to create artificial emotions, because dogs were apparently very emotional creatures. No one, however, wanted iPups to _experience_ these feelings. Their goal was to program appropriate behaviors. I considered the possibility that Moto's TEO was turning her artificial emotions into genuine feelings.

When Luma returned, I told her the plan and assigned her two tasks: distract Eppi while I went to find Dogan, and remove Moto's registration from Drake's desk. I gave her a 2-minute head start, then picked up Moto and opened the window. Cradling her in my arms, I jumped to the ground and tucked her out of sight by the side of the house, beneath the holly bushes.

I walked quickly to school, careful not to speed. 9 minutes later, I was standing in the trees along the edge of Diamond 3.

Dogan is a power hitter and an outfielder, and I found him in left field, 22 yards from where I stood.

I was trying to figure out how to get his attention when the coach smacked a ball into left field. Dogan backed up to make the catch. After he threw it into home plate, I called his name.

As he turned, I stepped into view. "Meet me at Stewart's after practice. I'll be in the last booth, by the back door."

My sudden appearance seemed to leave him speechless. He simply nodded his head. There were tears on his cheeks.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I had plenty of time to get to Stewart's and walked at a normal pace. It had been risky for Moto and I to go speeding about our neighborhood. I could only hope the GR hadn't picked it up on one of their security arrays.

I entered Stewart's through the back door and slipped into the last booth. Unfortunately, a WaitTron happened to be nearby and came over to take my order. It was wearing a soda jerk uniform: white shirt and apron, black bowtie, white folded cap.

It said, _"Would you like to order a beverage?"_

I said, "A friend is joining me in a few minutes. I think I'll order when he gets here."

" _Where is your friend?"_

"He's on his way."

" _Would your friend like to order a beverage?"_

"You'll have to ask him."

" _Your friend is not here."_

"I know, but he will be soon."

The WaitTron appeared to think for a moment, then said, _"Would you like to order a beverage?"_

It seemed simpler just to order two root beer floats.

As I waited for Dogan, I reflected on Bim's scheme. It had motivated Dogan to change his story, but now we were committed to finding his father. This mission appealed to me much more than plodding along at school and work, but it meant leaving everything behind, including Luma. I wasn't at all sure I wanted that.

The WaitTron returned with the floats and set one in front of me. I stared into it, trying to reason things out. If I broke my word to Dogan, he would change his story again and tell the truth about his hand. If he convinced the right people, I would lose everything _that_ way.

As I watched the vanilla ice cream foam and dissolve, I imagined telling him we weren't going and realized that I couldn't do it. The circumstances made no difference at all. Once given, I simply couldn't break my word.

Dogan slid into the booth at 4:01 PM. His eyes were dry and he made no attempt to conceal his anger.

I said, "We're going Outside to look for your father, but it will be dangerous and we might not find him."

"You think I believe that?"

"Not necessarily. But I'm going Outside tomorrow myself."

"Oh yeah? How are you going to get out? It's impossible!"

"Bim knows a way."

"Bim is a stupid little weirdo!"

"He's been Outside many times. It was his idea to help you."

"I don't believe that, either!"

I said, "Dogan, listen to me. Bim and I are going to help you find your father. In all honesty, we're your only hope. If you can't believe that, just get up and walk away. If you _can_ believe it, then stop wasting time. I need your help."

Dogan grabbed his root beer float and sucked hard on the straw, draining the liquid as he wrestled with his thoughts. Finally he said, "Okay, I believe you. I mean, I kind of believe you."

"You'll have to do better than that. If we go searching for your father we'll be gone a long time, and you can't tell your mother anything about it. She won't know where you've disappeared to. She'll probably think you're dead."

Dogan grimaced at the thought.

I pressed on. "So if you have any doubts whatsoever, I'm not taking you along. Do you understand?"

Dogan nodded.

"That's why you have to decide, right now, once and for all, whether or not you believe me. Do you or don't you?"

Dogan took a deep breath. "All right, fine! I believe you!"

"Okay. Now, I need your help. My mistakes are going to catch up with me tonight."

"What kind of help?"

"Spags has an iPup. I need you to go get it right now and bring it to my house. Make sure his mom doesn't find out. Shut it down and carry it, and stay out of sight. Leave it under the holly bushes by the side of my house. Don't forget to leave the remote. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"Spags may not get his iPup back. You might have to buy him a new one, okay?"

Dogan shrugged. "Okay."

"Good. Let's get going."

At 4:17, I was back in my room. Judging by the aroma, Eppi and Luma were in the kitchen baking cookies. I hadn't been missed. Dogan appeared beneath my window at 4:53 and I watched him deposit Spag's iPup behind the holly bushes, along with the remote. After he left, I listened to be sure that Eppi and Luma were still in the kitchen, then dropped to the ground and collected the decoy. At 5:03, Luma knocked softly on the door. She told me she'd hidden Moto's registration under her mattress.

So far, everything was going according to plan.

That changed at 5:09 PM, when a black Ford Falcon rolled up Blessing Street, Miss Veiny at the wheel. To my surprise, Drake was beside her in the passengers seat. I wasn't aware they even knew each other, and now she was driving him home from work. Bim had done his best to warn me and I'd missed it.

They pulled up to the curb and got out. As they came up the walkway, I boosted my audio levels and put my ear to the door.

I heard the front door open. Then I heard Eppi and Luma came out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

Drake: "Hello, girls. I'm home early."

Luma: "What's _she_ doing here?"

Drake: "Eppi, this is Miss Veiny, Luma's art teacher."

Eppi: "I know. We met yesterday."

Miss Veiny: "Good evening, Mrs. Jomes. I apologize for intruding."

Eppi: "You're not intruding. Please come in."

Luma: "Mom, can I go outside and play?"

Drake: "Not so fast, young lady! You're going to sit down while we straighten a few things out. Sofa please. Eppi, go get the robot. Then get me a drink."

Eppi: "Would you care for anything, Miss Veiny?"

Miss Veiny: "Coffee, please. Black, five sugars."

As Eppi came up the stairs, I reset my audio levels. The key turned in the lock and my door swung open. Eppi gestured to me. "Teo, your art teacher is here. Please come down."

I followed Eppi down the stairs. She said, "She's in the living room," and turned toward the kitchen.

When I reached the living room threshold, Drake held up his hand. "That's close enough."

Luma looked at him in surprise. "Dad, stop being a jerk!"

Miss Veiny frowned sympathetically. "Please, Mr. Jomes, do let the poor android sit with us."

Drake waved me in. "Sure, sure, I was only kidding."

I sat down in the armchair across from him and waited.

He turned to me, expression smug. "Miss Veiny told me a very interesting story on the ride home."

I said, "About what?"

"About an amusing little android who escapes from his room."

"Are you referring to me?"

'No, the _other_ amusing little android who lives here!"

I waited.

Finally, Drake said, "Yes, _you."_

I said, "When did this take place?"

"This morning, as if you didn't know!" He called to Eppi. "Honey, where's that drink!"

I waited.

Drake said, "Don't sit there trying to look innocent! That won't wash with me!"

I didn't reply.

He said, "Well?"

I said, "Well what?"

Drake jumped to his feet in exasperation. He said, "What is _taking_ that woman?" and stalked out of the living room.

Miss Veiny sat back in her chair and smiled at me. Luma was staring at the floor. We sat in silence, listening to the sounds from the kitchen. I could tell Drake was downing his first martini out of Miss Veiny's sight.

He finally returned, carrying a second drink, and sat down. Eppi followed behind him with a tray. After she served Miss Veiny her coffee, she set down the tray and perched on the edge of the sofa, next to Luma.

Drake looked at me over the rim of his martini glass, gulping his drink.

He smacked his lips. "So what do you have to say for yourself?"

I said, "About what?"

He struggled to keep his control. "About your mysterious appearance at school this morning."

"Miss Veiny said she saw me?"

"How many times do I have to say it? Yes, she saw you at recess!"

"But how could I have gotten out of my room?"

"That's easy, you jumped out your window."

Eppi said, "I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused. I'm not sure Teo went anywhere at all. When Miss Veiny called this morning, I found him up in his room, just where he was supposed to be."

Drake nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, I know all about it. He got back to his room before you checked."

I spoke to Luma for the first time, bringing her out of her trance. "Luma, what time does recess end?"

She sat up. "What kind of question is that? Recess always ends at exactly 10:45."

I turned to Eppi. "And what time did Miss Veiny call?"

"It was 10:48. I remember checking my watch."

I turned back to Drake. "How could I have possibly made it home in three minutes? And how did I get back to my window? There's no way to climb up."

Drake opened his mouth and closed it again.

Eppi said, "Teo has a good point. It doesn't seem very plausible to me."

Drake turned beseechingly to Miss Veiny.

She said, "May I speak?"

He nodded vigorously.

She laced her fingers together. "I never claimed he was there at the _end_ of recess, and yet he makes that assumption. The fact that it's true proves he was there."

Drake and Eppi looked at each other, blinking, as they tried to follow her reasoning.

Miss Veiny grew impatient. "All this speculation is fatuous. Why don't we simply ask him? After all, he can't lie." She turned to me, eyes narrowed. "How about it, android? Were you there, or were you not?"

Everyone looked my way.

I wasn't pleased with my options. I said, "What gives Miss Veiny the right to pursue this matter? As an art teacher, she has no authority."

Drake suddenly became animated. "Are you sure about that, Mr. Know-It-All? Because it just so happens that Miss Veiny has Level 10 clearance with the GR. She can lock you up and throw away the key!"

Miss Veiny turned to Eppi, her expression cold. "Your husband forces me to speak frankly. It's within my power to make trouble for you, I won't deny it. But I would only do so as a last resort."

The color drained from Eppi's face. "How can we help you?"

"The matter we've been discussing is trivial. I've informed you of your android's movements. Believe me or disbelieve me, as you wish. What is _not_ trivial, what is very serious indeed, is the fact that he's tampered with your iPup."

Drake pushed himself up from his chair, saying, "I need another drink," and stumbled off toward the kitchen.

Eppi said, "Tampered? How do you mean?"

"Your android had the iPup with him this morning. I saw it perform beyond its specifications."

"But what could Teo have done to cause that?"

"That's exactly what I intend to find out. If we resolve this matter to my satisfaction, no one else need know about it. If not, I'll let the GR have its way with you. Is that clear?"

Eppi looked at her shoes. "Yes, perfectly clear."

"Now, go tell your drunk-of-a-husband to fetch the registration."

As Eppi hurried off, Miss Veiny turned to Luma. "Get your little dog and shut it down and put it on the dining room table. Be quick about it."

Luma headed toward the stairs, genuinely upset now.

When Miss Veiny and I were alone, she spoke to me softly. "You just make one blunder after another, don't you?"

I didn't reply.

She said, "Sit there like a stump if it makes you happy, but you have no secrets from me. I watched you break those bats and squeeze Dogan's hand. I know you're changing."

"You arranged the attack."

"Of course I did. And feel free to spout a few lies, if it spares us these asinine debates."

"If you know all about me, why haven't you turned me in?"

She smiled. "The fools at the GR wouldn't know what to do with you. No, no, I'm taking you for _myself._ You and your clockwork companion will be very useful to me. Up to a point, that is."

"You can't just _take_ me."

"Oh, can't I? Your guardian signed you over not one hour ago, with the GR's blessing. I've already gotten the paperwork stamped."

Luma came down the stairs with the false Moto in her arms and carried her into the dining room.

Miss Veiny stood up. "Come on, android, this is something you won't want to miss."

When we entered the dining room, the iPup was lying on the table. Luma and Eppi stood against the far wall, looking grim. Drake was in the corner, rummaging through his desk, muttering to himself.

Miss Veiny addressed him. "Hand over the registration."

There was panic in Drake's voice. "It's not where it's supposed to be!"

"What are you saying?"

"I can't _find_ it!"

"Keep looking!"

Miss Veiny reached into her pockets and produced a set of hex wrenches. We stood and watched as she extracted the bolts that secured the iPup's skull plate.

She turned to me with a look of exultation on her face. "I've been waiting for this for a long, long time."

Gently working the skull plate free, she exposed the processor banks. She bent over the table and examined them, then stood upright, saying, "What sort of trickery is this?" She turned to Drake, extending her hand. "Give me those papers!"

Drake's voice quavered. "They're not here!"

Snorting in disgust, she reached inside the iPup's skull and yanked out a fistful of wires, flinging them across the room. Then she lifted the iPup over her head and hurled it at the window with such force that it shattered wood and glass and passed clear through, landing outside on the lawn.

She grabbed me by the throat with one hand, lifting me almost to the ceiling.

Luma screamed, "Daddy, she's got Teo! _Do_ something!"

Drake stepped behind Luma and clapped his hand over her mouth.

Miss Veiny bent her arm until my face was almost touching hers. "You think you're pretty clever, don't you? Well, you're too clever by half! If you planted this fake, then you know where the real one is!"

Luma elbowed Drake in the gut, leapt onto the table, and threw herself onto Miss Veiny's back.

Miss Veiny let me drop to the floor. In a single motion, she flipped Luma over her shoulder and caught her in a headlock. Luma flailed her arms and legs helplessly.

Miss Veiny looked down at me. "She's quite fond of you, isn't she? And I imagine you're fond of her, too, in your own android way. Get me the right iPup, right now, and I won't snap her neck."

I considered attacking Miss Veiny. I knew I should have rejected the idea, but seeing her threaten Luma made me _want_ to attack her, in a way I'd never wanted anything before. I couldn't dismiss the idea, no matter how hard I tried. My face felt very hot.

Miss Veiny took hold of Luma's chin. "I'm not going to ask you twice!"

From the front of the house came a thump and the sound of splintering wood. Someone had kicked in the front door.

A moment later, Mr. Wu appeared at the dining room threshold, backed by two GR peacekeepers.

He looked at Miss Veiny, his face expressionless. "Hello, Scarlett."

Miss Veiny lowered Luma gently to the ground and did her best to smile. "Hello, Peng. This is an unexpected pleasure."

"I see you made off with one of our cars again."

"I had every intention of returning it."

Mr. Wu waved his hand dismissively. "Don't give it another thought. Now, why are you here, smashing windows and making a nuisance of yourself?"

Miss Veiny glanced toward Drake. "Mr. Jomes requested my assistance."

"You misunderstand me. I mean what are you doing here in Dome Nine? Do you have a way in we don't know about?"

"I'm here quite legally, I assure you. All the paperwork is out in the car. If you'll permit me to go get it, I'll answer any questions you may have."

Mr. Wu bowed slightly and stepped aside to let her pass. "I'm sorry to trouble you."

She bustled past him toward the front door. As she passed the two peacekeepers, they drew their shock wands and jolted her from behind. Miss Veiny dropped to the floor, paralyzed.

Mr. Wu addressed them. "Take her to the wagon and put her in chains. Chains, do you hear me?"

The peacekeepers lifted her by the arms and legs and carried her out.

Mr. Wu turned back to us. "Is everyone here all right?"

Luma said, "I'm fine!" and hurried over to me, helping me to my feet.

Mr. Wu said, "Did she harm you, Teo?"

I shook my head.

We turned our attention to Eppi and Drake.

Eppi was standing with her back against the wall, wide-eyed and pale.

Mr. Wu said, "Are you all right, Mrs. Jomes?"

"I think so..."

"Have you been injured in any way?"

"No, no... Is that woman really an art teacher?"

"Not by any normal standards." He looked at Drake. "And you, Mr. Jomes? I trust you escaped unharmed?"

Luma cut in. "Don't worry about Drake. He was too scared to do anything, even when Miss Veiny had _me!"_

Drake waved his hands. "That's not true! If Mr. Wu hadn't barged in, I would've dealt with her!"

Luma turned on him, furious. "You lock Teo in his room like an animal, but when someone _really_ threatens your family you just hide in the corner!"

Drake was about to reply when he noticed the paper Mr. Wu had withdrawn from his pocket.

Mr. Wu raised his eyebrows. "It seems you've dealt with Miss Veiny already."

Drake worked his mouth but no words came out.

Luma said, "What _is_ that?"

Eppi stepped forward. "Yes, what is it?"

Mr. Wu held it up for them to see. "It's a Transfer of Title. Drake sold Teo to Miss Veiny this afternoon."

Luma gasped. _"Sold_ him?"

Eppi looked at Drake. "Tell me this isn't true!"

Sweat was beading Drake's brow. "I didn't _want_ to do it! She said she'd kill me if I didn't sign! What was I supposed to do?"

Mr. Wu said, "Did she threaten you _before_ she gave you the 2,000 chits, or _after?"_

Luma had heard enough. "Daddy, how _could_ you? I _hate_ you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

She turned her back to him just as teardrops spilled over. I wanted to put my arms around her, but that would've given me away to Mr. Wu. I was getting very tired of the whole charade.

Mr. Wu extended his hand. "Give me the chits and I'll see to it that you don't face prosecution."

Drake pulled a wad of paper from his pocket. As he passed it to Mr. Wu, he managed to muster some self-pity. "It's going to cost me a fortune to fix the window and the door!"

Mr. Wu pocketed the chits. "You needn't concern yourself with that. The next occupants will take care of it."

"Next occupants...?"

"Yes, our arrangement is hereby terminated. And without Teo you'll only qualify for a GR One-Child."

"What do you mean, 'without Teo?'"

"Teo will be staying with me until I can find him a new guardian."

Luma grabbed my arm. "No-o-o! You _can't!"_

Mr. Wu said, "Don't worry, Luma, you'll see Teo in school every day, and you can visit him in my quarters whenever you wish. Your father will agree to that, won't you, Drake?"

Drake nodded, staring at nothing. His face had a greenish cast.

Mr. Wu gave him a mirthless smile. "Cheer up! Go make yourself another drink!" He turned back to Luma, smile gone. "Why don't you help Teo pack his things?"

Luma and I went up to my room together. As soon as she closed the door, she said, "That does it! I can't even stand to _look_ at Drake! I'm running away _tonight!"_

I said, "No you're not. You're coming with me, to find Dogan's father."

Luma looked at me in amazement. "Really? You're serious? We're really going?"

"Yes, the four of us. You, me, Bim and Dogan. But we need a day to get ready. That means you're going to have to stay here tonight _and_ tomorrow night. And you have to act as though things are back to normal. Can you manage that?"

"I guess so."

"Pinkie swear?"

Luma extended her pinkie. I wrapped mine around it and we pulled our pinkies free.

I said, "I'll see you tomorrow morning at school. We'll all meet at recess, behind the bleachers."

Luma nodded, holding back tears. She opened the door and went out, closing it behind her.

I stowed my few possessions in my backpack, including Bim's map and Moto's remote, and went downstairs. Mr. Wu was waiting for me at the front door, which was hanging from one hinge. Eppi and Drake were nowhere to be seen.

I did my best not to talk on the ride to Dynalink, but Mr. Wu asked a lot of questions. He was polite but relentless. Again, something kept telling me to reveal as little as possible.

He said, "These last few days have been quite eventful for you, haven't they?"

"That's true."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

"I'm not sure."

"Prior to this week, your life has been has been quite _un_ eventful, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes."

"What makes this week so different?"

"I'm not sure."

"Can you hazard a guess?"

I weighed this. "Miss Veiny had a hand in most of it. Who is she? You two seemed to know each other."

Mr. Wu didn't take the bait. "We cross paths now and then. Why do you think she's taken an interest in you?"

"I'm not sure."

"What did she hope to gain by disassembling that iPup?"

"She wanted to examine its circuitry."

"What for?"

"She claimed I'd tampered with it."

"Had you?"

I tried to avoid an outright lie. "I don't know what gave her that idea. I have no workshop or tools or access to parts."

"You haven't answered the question. _Had_ you tampered with it?"

I could only hope that Mr. Wu wasn't certain of the truth himself.

I said, "No."

He changed the subject. "I'm sorry to spirit you away from home like this. It must be difficult for you."

"I've changed homes many times."

"But you and Luma are friends."

"She seems to like me and I appreciate that. Few people notice me, let alone like me."

"Now you two will have to live apart. What will that be like for you?"

"I've seen a lot of people come and go."

"But Luma must be different. You must be closer to her than anyone else."

"I have no feelings one way or the other."

_That_ was a lie, and it was unpleasant to even speak the words.

The questioning continued for the rest of the ride. If Mr. Wu was attempting to conceal his motives, he wasn't succeeding. Clearly, he was trying to detect signs of emotion in my responses.

This surprised me, but it didn't really matter. If I could get through the next hour without revealing anything, I would never have to answer his questions again.

Mr. Wu and I took the elevator to the top floor of the DynaLink building, which required a special key. The doors opened onto a vestibule containing a single, fortified door. Mr. Wu unlocked it and ushered me inside.

I had never seen anything like it. Mr. Wu's quarters consisted of a single, gigantic room, with windows on all sides, partitioned off by decorative screens. Everywhere I looked, I saw stone sculpture of every size and shape, some of it quite large, all of it very old.

I said, "This is remarkable."

"I care deeply about my country, Teo. This collection is my life's work. I've traveled to China many times and I bring back whatever I can."

"Why?"

"Did you know that the air in China is so polluted now that it eats away anything made of stone? Treasures that date back to antiquity are melting where they stand. I'm trying to save as much as one man possibly can."

"I've never read a word about this problem anywhere."

"Of course not. The GR doesn't want anyone to know."

"You _are_ the GR."

"No, Teo. I may be _in_ the GR, but I'm not _of_ it."

"I don't know what you mean."

Mr. Wu hesitated for a moment. "Will you please sit and have some tea with me? I know you can't drink it, but you might find the ceremony enjoyable."

Although I wanted to avoid more questioning, Mr. Wu seemed on the verge of speaking openly about himself. I said, "All right."

He led me through a labyrinth of screens and stone until we came to the kitchen, which seemed to be all glass and gleaming steel. It looked nothing like our own kitchen. I couldn't even identify a stove or refrigerator.

He pulled out a chair for me at the table and I sat down. On the counter was one familiar object: a ceramic teapot. Mr. Wu busied himself with his preparations, pouring boiling water from a glass cylinder that seemed to produce it instantaneously.

Once the tea was steeping, he sat down opposite me. "I don't know why I feel an urge to confide in you, Teo. Perhaps it's because I have no wife or companion."

I could think of one obvious reason: he was hoping I would confide in _him._

He said, "I can't talk to my superiors, who are demented, or my inferiors, who try to sabotage me at every turn. But you, Teo, have no ulterior motives. I feel certain I can trust you. After all, I've known you for more than thirty years."

"Why do you say you're not _of_ the GR?"

"Just because my rank is very high, it doesn't mean I believe in what we do. Ironically, my own position within the GR mirrors China's relationship with United North Korea."

"How do you mean?"

"My superiors are only slightly less insane than our Beloved Leader. The orders they hand down are generally senseless and cruel. I transform them into something rational, while appearing to obey them blindly. In the same way, China appears to carry out UNK's orders, while quietly doing what is reasonable and correct."

"For instance?"

Mr. Wu poured tea into two delicate blue teacups and set one on a saucer in front of me. "Let me give you the ultimate example. After UNK/C conquered the United States, China received Kim Jong-pil's orders: anyone who could be of use was to be assigned to a labor camp. The useless were to be executed. China appeared to obey. Dome Nine, and all Domes throughout the country, were presented to UNK as labor camps. All those left outside the Domes disappeared from the population count, as though they'd been executed. Jong-pil was satisfied." Mr. Wu paused to sip from his teacup. "And in a sense, Dome Nine _is_ a labor camp. Every single person here works for the GR in some capacity. Except, of course, for the women and children."

"Why did China have to take orders from United North Korea? Weren't you more powerful?"

"We were victims of our own overconfidence. In 2065, Kim Jong-pil was still just the local lunatic. We thought we could use him to our own advantage. In the end, he used us."

"How did that happen?"

"We gave Kim Jong-pil the money he needed to complete his new weapons system. And we assisted him in destroying the Internet."

"Kim Jong-pil was responsible for the Great Crash?"

"Yes, and also for the hurricanes and tornados that preceded it."

I found this difficult to believe. "Are you saying that he learned how to control the _weather?"_

" _That_ was his weapons system. Not a nuclear device, as he'd led us to believe."

"He could actually generate hurricanes and tornados?"

"He could trigger violent weather of any kind, anywhere on earth. He started wiping out coastal cities. Tornados were less effective, but with enough of them he could destroy inland areas, as well."

"Didn't other countries retaliate?"

"That was the genius of it. No one had any idea what was really causing these storms. They attributed it all to global warming."

"But _China_ knew. Why didn't you stop him?"

Mr. Wu gazed into his teacup. "We decided it wasn't in our best interest to do so. For that, I am deeply ashamed."

For a long moment, we sat in silence. Then he looked up at me. "But there wasn't much we _could_ have done. We had no idea how to take out his new weapons system. No one knew its location. It was possible he'd developed a network of stations across the globe. It might have even been satellite-based. And just to show us where things stood, Kim Jong-pil sent a typhoon across Taiwan. Not too powerful, but deadly accurate."

"That's when China started taking orders."

"Yes."

Mr. Wu took another sip, frowning. "Anyone who wants to rule the world is, by definition, insane. Kim Jong-pil wanted all the power but none of the responsibility. He would have been perfectly content to let _everyone_ starve to death. It fell to China to feed the entire world. We were the ones who cultivated the Arctic and constructed the high-speed rail lines."

"What happened to the people left outside the Domes?"

"Well, to begin with, a lot of them were killed in the storms. But just as many were rounded up and deported."

"Why would UNK/C want to deport them?"

"No, no. This was years before the Invasion. Your Founding Father, Trip Savage, began deporting people the day he took office. That was in 2065."

"Just a moment. According to the GR, the Domes were constructed _after_ the Invasion."

"A lie, useful at the time. They were busy creating the myth of your Founding Father. In reality, China started building Domes in 2065. After all, we knew what Kim Jong-pil was up to. We had to protect our investments."

"What investments?"

"The US was heavily in debt to China, without possibility of repayment. We began acquiring real estate. Secretly, of course."

I said, "The US agreed to sell off its own land?"

"Choice never entered into it. President Savage started by signing over the National Parks, but that didn't even cover the interest. We quickly acquired a great many urban areas."

"He began selling cities?"

"Yes. Including your home town, Philadelphia."

"So Dome Nine was built before the Invasion."

"Correct."

"Were _all_ the Domes built before the Invasion?"

"Once the country was ours, we continued building, but most were constructed between 2065 and the Crash."

I said, "How did you decide whom to allow into the Domes?"

"We had no hand in that. It was purely a domestic matter. Or, more accurately, a _political_ matter. President Savage made the decisions. As far as I can tell, people were divided along racial and ethnic lines. But I don't know much about it."

Mr. Wu paused to refill his teacup.

I said, "Why are you telling me all this?"

Mr. Wu hesitated. "Strange to say, Teo, I have a sense that this may be my only opportunity. Why should that be?"

That ended the conversation.

I said, "I don't know. Could you please show me where I'll be staying?"

Mr. Wu gave me a long look, then nodded.

He set down his teacup and led me to a screened off area that contained a bed, a night table, a dresser, and a desk. The room was suffused with a gentle glow that had no source. Outside the window, the lights of East Rim twinkled.

Mr. Wu bowed slightly. "This is my guest room, Teo. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you wish."

I put my backpack on the desk and sat down on the bed. It was softer than any bed I'd ever known. "Thank you, Mr. Wu. I'm going to rest now."

"I understand. I'm afraid I have to work late tonight, but I'll have someone drive you to school in the morning. Goodbye, Teo."

I looked at him, possibly for the last time. "Goodbye."

After he left, I sat on the bed and thought about Moto.

She would be safe enough under the holly bushes until I could retrieve her. No one would be looking for her. As far as Drake and Eppi knew, she was lying on the lawn, surrounded by shards of glass, the wiring ripped out of her head.

Spags was definitely going to need a new iPup.

More importantly, the changes Moto had undergone raised a number of questions. Why had her TEO increased her speed and agility, and why was she now able to attack humans? Both these results were unexpected.

If the TEO itself were responsible, why hadn't my own TEO's given me increased speed and agility from the start? Why hadn't I always been capable of harming humans? Unless...

Unless my TEO's were never fully functional to begin with.

It all made perfect sense. When I'd broken the access code at East Rim Park, tiny bits of program code had been added throughout my system. I hadn't been able to trace them back to their source because I'd been looking within my processor banks. At the time, it hadn't made sense to search my TEO's.

There was a simple way to find out. I lay down on the bed and set up a system scan that included my TEO's.

I set the scan date for 10.14.2173, the day of Rayleen's birthday party. I set the time period to include the 4 hours 17 minutes 33 seconds I'd spent sitting on park bench. I requested a visual time-flow diagram, then closed out nonessential functions and started the scan.

The scan concluded at 8:23 PM. I immediately screened the time-flow diagram.

There it was, at 1 hour 23 minutes 23 seconds: rapid bursts of program code from my TEO's, all firing in sequence. The event had been triggered by a single command, issued from processor 443K, at the moment I'd broken the access code.

I screened the diagram again and again, watching my TEO's become fully functional for the first time.

A century ago, in the midst of catastrophe, Joseph Clay had hobbled me and hidden me in plain sight in Dome Nine. He'd hoped that 100 years would be enough time for everyone to forget about me. Now, the long wait was over and I was fully awake.

But what was I supposed to _do?_

Miss Green's words came back to me: _Your father created you for a purpose. Fulfill that purpose._ That wasn't much to go on.

I thought about the passage in _Feats of Clay._ Why had my father wanted me to build TEO's? So that humans could transfer their minds into android bodies? That made sense, except for one thing: Earth didn't appear to be dying. Yes, there were huge storms from time to time, but otherwise the air appeared clean and clear and the seasons revolved peacefully. The climate seemed stable.

I managed to reach one conclusion only: I would never discover my purpose here in Dome Nine. It would only be revealed to me Outside. Bim had understood that all along. The quest for Dogan's father was his way of shooing me out the door.

As I lay there in that strange room, my thoughts kept returning to Luma. I knew I would see her in the morning, yet I had the impulse to get up and run back home, just to talk to her. The idea was completely impractical but the impulse wouldn't fade. If anything, it kept growing stronger.

I'm still feeling it now, along with a very strange sensation in my stomach. I find the experience unpleasant, so I'm going to shut down early.

Entry complete.

### Part Two: Outside

### Chapter 9

10.19.2173.9:29PM

I booted up at 5:30 AM and made my way silently through sculpture and screens to Mr. Wu's front door. It was simple to unlock from the inside and the elevator required no key to ride down. I was walking out of DynaLink as the sky began to lighten.

Miss Green had a reputation for arriving at school before dawn, even ahead of Principal Gumm. I was counting on it this morning. I hurried through the half-light and arrived at the school parking lot at 5:39 AM. A stand of trees at the far end offered the only cover. I concealed myself within and waited.

At 5:47 AM, I heard the whir of an electric engine and saw a blue Impala turn into the parking lot, Miss Green behind the wheel. By the time she shut off her motor, I was crouched beside her car. I opened the rear door and slipped into the backseat, closing the door behind me.

Miss Green swung her head around and her eyes widened, but she didn't make a sound.

I said, "I didn't mean to startle you. I need your advice."

"I'm glad to see you, Teo. I was worried about you."

"Thank you, but we don't have much time. I'm going Outside to find Dogan's father. Where should I start?"

"You're going Outside? But how?"

"There's no time for that. Where should I start?"

Miss Green wasted no more words. "Go to Washington, DC. Find the speaker for the Potomac clan. His name is Geff. Use my name and tell him you need to see Cassius."

"How do I get to Washington, DC?"

"It's about 140 miles southwest of here. Just follow Interstate 95."

"What's that?"

"It's an old superhighway that connects Philadelphia to Washington."

"How do I find it?"

"Head toward the ocean, you can't miss it. But there's one problem."

"What?"

"You can't go through Baltimore."

I was about to ask where Baltimore was when I heard another car approaching. I got down on the floor.

A moment later, a brown Impala pulled up to the right of Miss Green's. The motor quit, the door opened, and Principal Gumm climbed out. As luck would have it, he happened to glance into Miss Green's backseat. Our eyes met.

He blinked in disbelief. Miss Green was getting out by then, and he shifted his gaze to her, looking perplexed. As she turned to face him, though, he forced a smile, saying, "Good morning, Miss Green. How are you this morning?"

I heard her say, "Very well, thank you. I have a question for you, if you would."

"Of course, of course."

He closed his door and walked out from between the two cars, disappearing from my view. I heard her lead him away toward the school building, distracting him with her question, unaware that he'd already spotted me.

I waited 20 seconds, then hopped out of the car and headed for home at a fast walk. Dawn was breaking, and I wanted to retrieve Moto from the holly bushes before Eppi got up to make breakfast.

I hurried down Glory Street. Principal Gumm's behavior didn't bode well for Miss Green. Pretending not to see me had bought him enough time to report her to the GR. People were turned in for unusual behaviors of all sorts, and meeting with me in her car certainly qualified. I could think of no way to undo the damage.

The house was quiet as I approached from the back, and the kitchen window was dark. I thought about slipping inside to see Luma, a bad idea that was hard to dismiss. Instead, I went around to the side of the house, collected Moto, and headed back toward school, cradling her in my arms.

The sun was rising now and Impalas were beginning to appear on the streets. Soon, kids would begin emerging from their houses and making their way to school. I wanted to have Moto safely stashed in the woods by then, so I hurried once again.

After I crossed Salvation, I detoured around the school and cut into the woods, following the route Moto and I had taken the day before. I came to a suitable spot near the bleachers, still within the trees, and set Moto down on a bed of moss. There was no point in getting to school early, so I sat down next to her and let the minutes pass.

Sneaking off from Mr. Wu's quarters was beginning to seem like a mistake. Miss Green's information, while helpful, had come at a price, one she would have to pay herself. And soon Mr. Wu would find me missing. He would discover I'd made it to school, but his suspicions would be aroused. I realized that there was no turning back. Once I went Outside, I wouldn't be able to show my face in Dome Nine again. Luma and Dogan would have to get to Blessed Savior on their own tomorrow, with Bim's help.

By 6:50 AM, kids were arriving at school from all directions, on foot and by car. I retraced my steps and emerged from the woods onto Glory Street. From there, I approached the front of the school and fell in step behind a group of 6th graders, passing by Principal Gumm unnoticed.

When I entered the classroom, Miss Green was seated at her desk. She didn't acknowledge my arrival in any way. The room was half filled already, but I decided it didn't make much difference. I took the long way around to my desk, passing by Miss Green. I didn't look at her but I spoke loudly enough to be heard.

I said, "Gumm saw me."

A few kids turned their heads. Miss Green didn't react to my words at all.

And that was all I could do.

I was about to sit down at my desk when Luma rushed into the classroom. She headed straight for me, saying, "There you are! It was so weird not walking to school with you!"

I said, "Hi, Luma. How are things at home?"

She laughed. "Pretty good! Mom gave Drake a black eye!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! She— "

Miss Green cut us off, her voice cold. "Miss Jomes! Please take your seat!"

Luma said, "Yes, ma'am," and went reluctantly to her desk.

During the Pledge of Eternal Gratitude, I peeked at Miss Green again. She was lost in thought.

She put up a good front all morning, ignoring me completely. When the bell rang for recess, she watched us file out of the classroom, as usual, then stayed behind herself, as though she were going to skip the teachers' meeting.

Mr. Catwaller grouped the classes into formation and marched us out to the playground. When we'd finished the Democratic Peoples' Salute, Luma, Dogan, Bim and I went straight to the bleachers.

As soon as we were around back, Dogan asked about Spags' iPup. Luma and I recounted the whole episode, ending with Miss Veiny being carried off by the peacekeepers.

Dogan smacked his fist into his palm. "I knew she wasn't an art teacher! She can't even draw!"

Bim said, "The real question is whether they'll keep her or let her go."

Dogan and Luma looked at me in annoyance.

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma frowned. "Why would they let her go?"

Bim said, "They don't want her inside Dome Nine. She's much more useful to them Outside."

Luma was leaning in close to Bim, her hand cupped to her ear. Dogan stood back, grinding his teeth.

I said, "Bim, this isn't going to work. I can't repeat everything you say to Luma and Dogan."

"Then I won't say anything at all."

"That won't work, either. We're going to need your help every step of the way. You'll just have to speak up."

"I don't think I can."

"Why not?"

Bim shrugged. "After I learned to make myself invisible, my voice just faded away."

"When was that?"

He looked down at his hands. "After my mother died."

I could see where this was going. "How old were you?"

"Five."

The problem was more serious than I'd thought. I turned to Luma and Dogan. "You'll have to be patient with Bim. He's speaking as loudly as he can."

Dogan greeted this news with a skeptical look. Luma, however, had been following the conversation, filling in the blanks through intuition. She understood.

I said, "Why don't we talk through the plan for tomorrow and Bim will just listen. Then you two can go back to the playground and I'll talk with Bim on my own."

We all sat down on the grass. Everyone agreed it would be best to steal away at the beginning of recess tomorrow, as soon as the Salute ended. I mapped out a route to Blessed Savior that kept them off the main thoroughfares and avoided the security arrays. With any luck, they'd be most of the way there before they were missed.

After Luma and Dogan left, I pulled Bim's map out of my pocket and spread it on the ground.

I said, "Please explain this to me."

Bim said, "You have to remember that all the Domes are perfect hemispheres. They also have to be spaced at least a half mile apart. That means that there's a lot of negative space left over, areas that never got Domed in."

"So these circles represent Domes?"

"Yes. This is Dome Nine, that's Dome Ten, to the northeast, and that's Dome Eight, to the southwest. And these lines represent the old storm drain system."

"What's this area, right here?"

"That's the old city center. It got destroyed during the Invasion and now it's known as the Ruins."

"I'm not sure of the scale here. How far away is that?"

"About a mile. That's where I go most of the time."

"Is that where the library is?"

"No. UNK/C leveled the library there. They meant to do that everywhere, but they missed a few. The one I found is over here. It's tiny."

"How far away is that?"

"That's a much longer hike, about five miles to the north."

"So that's in the gap between Dome Eight and Dome Nine?"

"Right. I think that area was too hard to Dome because a ravine runs through it."

"How do I know when I've gotten there?"

"That's easy. There's a big hole in the pipe. I think it was damaged in a drone strike."

For the time being, that was all I needed to know about the map.

I said, "I spoke with Miss Green before school. I asked her how to go about finding Dogan's father."

"She told you to see Cassius."

I was past being surprised by Bim. "You've heard of him?"

"Everyone's heard of Cassius. Anyone who needs anything goes to see him."

"So we have to get to Washington DC?"

"Yes. If Dogan's father is alive, Cassius can point us toward him."

"But how?"

"He's the only person Outside who has access to the DataStream."

This raised a host of other questions, but recess was almost over.

I said, "The storm drain seems to run southwest for quite a distance."

"Yes. I've never gone all the way to the end."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't risk being away from Blessed Savior overnight. If I didn't clean my plate at suppertime, there was a chance they might come looking for me. I couldn't let them find the manhole."

"I'm going to have to leave it uncovered while I'm Outside. What if someone comes downstairs and sees it?"

"Don't worry. They only unlock the door twice a day: once to let me out for school and once to shut me back in. That's it. They pass my plate and cup through a slot at the top of the stairs."

"Once we're Outside, though, they'll come looking for you."

"Eventually."

"And they'll find the manhole."

"I imagine the GR will seal it shut forever."

"Then we won't be able to come back into Dome Nine through Blessed Savior."

"I'm not coming back at all, Teo. Are you?"

"I was thinking of Dogan and Luma."

"It's better not to tell them. We have a long way to go before we even think about coming back."

The bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

I said, "You should go, Bim. Take care of Dogan and Luma tomorrow."

I watched him round the bleachers, then headed back to the trees.

I sat down next to Moto on the moss again and let the time pass. It seemed best to stay out of sight until everyone had gone back inside.

There was something very odd about Bim's map. If the Ruins were just a mile from Dome Nine, they should have been visible from some vantage point on the Rim. And, given their size, Domes Eight and Ten should have been visible, too. I knew from experience that this wasn't the case, and concluded that Bim's map was wrong. The alternative defied belief.

After five minutes had passed, I retrieved Moto's remote from my backpack and stood up. When I hit the power button, Moto jumped to her feet. Instead of barking three times, she looked around, got her bearings, and bolted out of the trees onto the field. As I came up behind her, she looked at me over her shoulder and barked once.

I said, "What is it, Moto?"

She unfolded her paw into a hand and pointed toward the school. Following her point, I saw that a black Ford Falcon had pulled up to the front entrance. The occupants, it appeared, had gotten out, leaving their doors open, and entered the building. All was quiet.

Just as I magnified the image, two GR peacekeepers burst through the doors and onto the sidewalk, striding toward their car, dragging Miss Green between them. She was blindfolded and gagged, her hands manacled behind her back.

I said, "Moto, you take the one on the right and I'll take the one on the left."

Moto nodded.

"Let's go."

As we raced toward the school, the peacekeepers began to move in slow motion. By the time they saw us coming, we were already past the diamonds. As we approached the parking lot, they were letting go of Miss Green's arms. As we cleared the parking lot, they were reaching for their shock wands. They were in the process of pulling them from their holsters when time ran out.

Moto sprang, hitting her peacekeeper full force. He went over backwards and slammed his head on the concrete, his helmet skittering across the sidewalk.

I waited for my peacekeeper to finish drawing his shock wand, then twisted it out of his grasp and turned it on him. The jolt sent him reeling backwards and he dropped to the ground near his partner, paralyzed. I stepped over him and gave his partner a jolt, just to be sure.

I set down the wand and turned to Miss Green, saying, "It's me, Teo. Lean over so I can reach your blindfold."

As she dropped to one knee, Moto came over and crouched next to her, keeping watch. I pulled off her blindfold and untied her gag.

When she could speak, Miss Green said, "I don't know how to thank you!"

I knelt beside one of the peacekeepers and detached his key ring. "Let's get those manacles off. Do you have somewhere to go?"

"Yes, I'm not alone here."

I stood up and tried one of the keys. "I'm sorry I got you into trouble."

"It's not your fault."

It didn't work. I tried another key. "Why did you come to Dome Nine?"

"Cassius sent me."

The second key didn't work, either, but the third did.

I let the manacles drop to the ground. "Why?"

Miss Green rubbed her wrists. "To keep an eye on you, Teo. He knew your hundredth birthday was coming up."

There was no time to pursue this, much as I wanted to.

I said, "You have to get out of here."

She glanced toward her car. "I know. So do you. But there's something in Miss Veiny's desk. I didn't have a chance to get it, but you should to take it with you."

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure, but I know she didn't mean to leave it. I know it's very important to her."

Miss Green bent down and kissed my cheek. "Goodbye, Teo. Good luck Outside."

As she started toward the parking lot, I said, "Wait." She turned. "You said I should use your name, but you never told me what it was."

She smiled. "My name is Emerald. My mother named me for the color of my eyes."

As she hurried to her Impala, I turned my attention to the school. Where was Principal Gumm? He would have been watching as they dragged Miss Green away, which meant he also would have seen us come to her rescue.

That was why the school was so quiet: Gumm had called the GR again, the moment we took down the peacekeepers. Now, he was keeping out of sight until they arrived.

I snatched up the two shock wands the peacekeepers had been carrying and shoved them into my backpack.

I said, "Come on, Moto, we have to go to the art room."

As we raced past the office, I could see Principal Gumm and the secretaries goggling at us through the window. Our secret was out.

A sign taped to the art room door read: _Miss Veiny absent today, all art classes report to the gym._ Despite this notice, the room was unlocked. I went through Miss Veiny's desk drawers, looking for anything out of the ordinary. In the back of the bottom drawer, behind some rolls of masking tape, was an intricately carved ebony box. I didn't open it. Instead, I wrapped it in tape and put it in my backpack.

The hallway was quiet when we emerged, but that wasn't reassuring. For all I knew, peacekeepers were busy surrounding the building. We raced to the end of the hall and around the corner, to the JaniTron's closet. It was locked.

Just up the hallway, the JaniTron was swinging a mop, dressed in the standard uniform: work shirt, overalls, and boots. As we approached, it said, _"Wet floor, watch your step."_

I said, "Would you unlock your closet for me?"

" _That is not permitted."_

"May I borrow your keys?"

" _That is not permitted."_

Distant shouts and footfalls echoed down the hallway. I yanked the key ring from the JaniTron's belt.

" _Teo Jomes, I must report your behavior to Principal Gumm."_

Unless I could shut it down, this JaniTron would reveal our escape route. I had never attempted anything of the sort.

An image flashed before my eyes, a schematic of the JaniTron's electrical system. A failsafe button was located just above its collarbone. I reached up, found the button with my thumb, and held it down. The JaniTron crumpled to the floor.

We raced back to the closet. As I tried different keys in the lock, I could hear peacekeepers approaching from both directions. I got the door open, whisked Moto inside, and locked it behind us.

The JaniTron closet housed a ladder to the roof.

I said, "Come on, Moto, we're going up the ladder."

As I began climbing, Moto unfolded her hands. iPups are programmed to climb ladders, so they can accompany children at playgrounds. She followed me up.

A moment later, we were crouched on the roof of the building. I told Moto to stay, and crawled to the edge overlooking the front entrance. Ford Falcons were parked everywhere, peacekeepers stationed behind them. I crawled to the opposite side. Peacekeepers were fanned out along the back of the school, covering the rear exits.

I crawled to the southwest edge of the building. Since it had no doors or windows, no one was covering that side,

I crawled back to Moto. "Listen, Moto. We're going to start back there, run the width of the building, and jump as far as we can. We're only 25 feet up and we'll be landing on grass. Roll when you hit the ground. Ready?"

Moto nodded.

By the time we launched ourselves off the roof, we were running at 37 mph.

I don't know if anyone witnessed our leap or our landing. We didn't stick around to find out. As soon as we were on our feet, we took off down Pyongyang Boulevard, straight for Blessed Savior.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We didn't encounter a single Ford Falcon on our way, nor did any seem to be following us. As for the security arrays, it didn't much matter what they picked up now. Moto and I would be Outside before the GR could track us down.

We approached Blessed Savior from the back and crawled in through Bim's tiny doorway. I restacked the cinderblocks directly in front of the manhole, screening it from view. Moto followed me down the ladder. I switched on the lights, then climbed back up and pulled the cover into place. With any luck, the manhole would remain a secret for another 24 hours.

According to Bim's map, the maintenance tunnel ran south in a straight line for about half a mile. I couldn't find a flashlight, or even a candle, anywhere in his workshop. I was forced to conclude that Bim made the trip in darkness.

We passed beneath the brick archway and started for the storm drain. The light from Bim's workshop only illuminated the first 50 yards or so. By the time we were 200 yards in, my pupils were fully dilated and I still couldn't see very well. Moto wasn't having any trouble. Her eyes were designed for night vision.

As my eyesight faded away, I resigned myself to groping the wall. I inched my way along.

Suddenly, the inside of the tunnel exploded into rainbow colors and I could see clearly again. As I studied Moto and my own body and the tunnel walls and floor, I realized I was seeing the _temperature_ of the objects around me. This was almost as detailed as normal eyesight. I hurried on my way.

The tunnel ended abruptly at a brick wall. At that point, the only direction to go was down, through a manhole embedded in the floor. As soon as I pulled the cover off, light came up from below and my rainbow world evaporated.

Moto and I descended 21 feet to the storm drain floor and found ourselves standing inside a cavernous, U-shaped tunnel. Massive brick archways supported the ceiling, stretching into the distance, east and west. The curved floor, a gigantic trough, was designed to carry huge quantities of water. This was obviously the main storm drain, into which all other drainpipes emptied. At the moment, though, the only water was a shallow stream meandering down the center of the trough.

Light from the surface filtered down through the storm grates here and there, but most of the storm drain was deep in shadow. Without a flashlight, it would have been difficult for Bim to see much of anything.

Evidence of his presence was easily found. He had rigged up a pulley, using electrical cables and a laundry basket, in order to haul things up to the maintenance tunnel. He'd also scavenged an old shopping cart for hauling things back through the storm drain. This was tethered to the bottom rung of the ladder with a leather belt.

According to Bim's map, the drainpipe that led to the library was less than a mile to the west. I said, "Come on, Moto, this way."

We took off at a run, down the center of the trough, but this resulted in a lot of splashing. Moto quickly discovered that she could avoid this by running in an S-pattern. She would run at an angle on the slope of the trough, then jump the water and run on the opposite slope, crisscrossing back and forth. I followed her example and we were soon averaging 28 mph.

When she realized how much momentum she had, Moto began running as high up the wall as possible, trying to run sideways. I didn't attempt this myself, as I was following Bim's map in my head. He had marked the smaller drainpipes that fed into the main pipe, as well as the ladders that led to the surface. I was counting these as we passed.

When we came to the right pipe, Moto zoomed past it and I called after her to stop. She obeyed my command, digging in her heels. Unfortunately, she was running sideways at the time, up near the ceiling. Momentum gone, she rolled downhill, landing with a splash in the center of the trough. She trotted back to where I stood, tail between her legs, looking embarrassed.

The drainpipe that led to the library was considerably larger than the others we'd passed. I was sure I'd be able to identify it on the way back.

As much as I wanted to see the library, it was more important to keep heading west, beyond the boundaries of Bim's map, to find out where the storm drain let out.

We took off again, Moto running sideways as I counted the ladders and drainpipes. When we'd traveled about six miles, the storm drain began to angle sharply downward and we saw no more pipes or ladders. 200 yards later, it leveled out again and we could hear the sound of rushing water in the distance.

Moto and I slowed to a jog, uncertain of what lay ahead. There were no more ladders but we did pass a number of smaller drainpipes set into the walls. Inexplicably, the mouths of these tunnels were piled with large rocks.

As we continued down the storm drain, the roar of rushing water grew louder, and we soon found ourselves at the source of this sound. Joining the main tunnel from the north was another tunnel of equal size. An underground river was coursing out of it, filling the storm drain with roiling water. Some of it backed up to where Moto and I stood, but the bulk of the water rushed off to the west.

This presented a serious obstacle to tomorrow's journey.

A sound like thunder came from behind and we turned to face a more immediate problem: an alligator was headed straight for us, moving very fast. It seemed much larger than any alligator I'd seen in photographs.

With the river preventing our retreat, the only choice was forward.

The alligator lunged at Moto, planning to make short work of her, but its jaws snapped empty air as Moto dodged sideways and shot past it to safety.

The alligator charged at me, opening its jaws again. I decided the best way past it was over it and launched myself through the air.

The alligator's reflexes were swift. Thrusting upward with its front legs, it almost managed to nip me. When it discovered I was out of reach, it readied itself.

I somersaulted in the air and came down on my feet. The moment they touched ground, the alligator lashed its tail, knocking them out from under me. I landed on my side and rolled onto my back, backpack jabbing into my spine. The alligator lunged. Throwing myself forward to meet it, I got my arms around its snout before it could open its jaws.

This was the first step in alligator wrestling, that much I knew. I also knew that I should flip it over and rub its stomach, putting it to sleep. As the alligator whipped its head from side-to-side, trying to fling me off, I wondered how practical this procedure really was. I was just along for the ride, unable to plant my feet or do anything else of consequence, and letting go wasn't likely to improve matters.

Something heavy landed on my back and an arm clamped my neck. Over my shoulder, I could see Moto tugging at the zipper on my backpack. She got it halfway open, reached in, and pulled out a shock wand. Then she jumped to the ground.

She pressed the wand against the alligator's neck. No effect.

I said, "You have to turn it on! There's a switch on the side! Push it forward!"

Moto found the switch and a red indicator light began to flash. She pressed the wand against the alligator's neck again. Its whole body gave a jerk, and then it went right on thrashing its head.

"Its skin is too thick! Try inside its mouth!"

I released the alligator's snout, sending myself tumbling across the floor. As I hopped to my feet, it opened its jaws wide and let out a bellow of victory.

Moto misunderstood my instructions. She jumped straight into the alligator's mouth, jabbing the shock wand into its tongue. The alligator's muscles convulsed and its jaws snapped shut, trapping her inside. It did a belly flop and lay still.

I dashed over and pried the alligator's jaws apart. Moto jumped out, unharmed but dripping with saliva.

I took the shock wand from her and switched it off. "Good thinking, Moto, you saved my neck. Go rinse off and let's get out of here."

When Moto emerged from the water, we hurried east, back toward the library. I was eager to get out of range of the alligator, who was only stunned. I stopped, however, to take a closer look at the piles of rocks I'd noticed on the way in.

I went over to the mouth of the drainpipe. The rocks were fairly large and required two hands to lift. As soon as I picked one up, its leathery texture gave it away. It wasn't a rock at all. It was an alligator egg. They were all alligator eggs, hundreds of them. Their mother had been defending them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ten minutes later, we were back at the library tunnel. This was an actual pipe, made of cast iron. The inside was even darker than the main storm drain, but that didn't seem to bother Moto. She raced off northward, running in the same S-pattern as before.

The pipe was only 6 feet 6 inches in diameter and she soon discovered she had enough momentum to do a loop-the-loop. She would race up one side of the pipe, cross the top upside down, and race down the other side. Once she got the hang of it, she spiraled the entire 4.7 miles to the library.

As Bim had predicted, it wasn't difficult to find the exit, a jagged hole in the roof of the pipe. The blast that produced it must have been quite powerful. Chunks of cast iron littered the tunnel floor. Daylight streamed in from above.

I jumped up, got a grip on the edge of the opening, and hauled myself out.

Before the explosion, the pipe had been buried about 8 feet below ground level. Now, it was sitting at the bottom of a deep crater. I called to Moto and she joined me, exiting the pipe with a graceful leap. We climbed out of the crater together.

My first impression of the world Outside was simple enough: everything was the wrong color. The sky was orange, the clouds were yellow, and the vegetation was blue.

And it was hot, 101 degrees Fahrenheit. This could have been a fluke, a single hot October day, but I didn't think so. Everywhere I looked, the plant life seemed to be dying of thirst. In the place of green grass and bushes, knots of blue weeds and clumps of blue scrub brush clung to the parched earth. Stunted trees huddled close together, trying to protect their shriveled blue leaves from the orange sunlight.

I turned my attention to the houses. Long ago, it seemed, the whole area had been a residential neighborhood, built into the side of a hill. Three decrepit dwellings remained at the top, but the rest of the houses on the upper slope had been obliterated, leaving a steep cliff of loose dirt and rock. One of the three houses was perched precariously at the edge of this drop, its front porch dangling over it.

Two areas were untouched: a ravine to the west, and an entire street on the lower slope. Far beyond that, past a forest of squat, blue trees, I could see a great, green river on the horizon.

Moto and I headed downhill to the street. The houses were in various stages of collapse, but a brick building at the far end was in good shape. Bim's library.

The street and sidewalk had crumbled into fragments, which were now held together by blue weeds. As we neared the library, a figure stepped out from between two houses. Moto looked up at me, growling.

I said, "Hold on, Moto, it's just a WaitTron."

It seemed odd, but for all I knew WaitTrons were common Outside.

It came down the driveway and advanced toward us, saying, _"Would you like to order a beverage?"_

I said, "No, thank you."

Moto growled again.

The WaitTron was within ten feet of us now. _"Would you like to order a beverage?"_

It was identical to the WaitTron that had served me at Stewart's, except that its white shirt and apron were covered in filth. Most of it seemed to be dirt and mud, but some of the splotches looked like dried blood.

It stopped in front of us. _"Would you like to order a beverage?"_

Before I could reply, it lashed out its arm, grabbing my wrist. It moved very fast and its grip was powerful. Someone had tampered with it.

It said, _"You must pledge fealty to Queen Scarlett,"_ and started dragging me up the street, away from the library. I dug in my heels, but it was bigger and stronger.

Moto clamped her jaws around its left ankle, trying to slow it down.

The WaitTron gave its leg a kick that sent Moto tumbling. _"You must pledge fealty to Queen Scarlett."_

I reached around with my free hand, feeling for its failsafe button, and pressed it down. This had no effect.

Moto circled back and made a flying leap, butting the WaitTron's stomach. It reeled backwards a few steps, then regained its balance and resumed dragging. _"You must pledge fealty to Queen Scarlett."_

I had no intention of visiting Queen Scarlett, whoever or wherever she was. I had to find a way to break its grip.

An image flashed before my eyes, a schematic of the WaitTron's skeletal system. A cable linked to its fingers ran up its forearm, not far below the surface. I dug down and clamped onto it with thumb and forefinger and pried it upward. The WaitTron's fingers loosened long enough for me to pull my wrist free.

Moto barked. I looked down to see her crouched behind the WaitTron's ankles. I gave it a good shove and it stumbled over her, toppling backwards onto the ground. Moto and I took off toward the library. We were out of sight in its alcove before the WaitTron managed to sit up.

The front door was unlocked. Propping it open, I asked Moto to stand guard and went inside.

As Bim had said, it was a very small building, but its four rooms housed more books than I'd ever seen in one place. The library at Ryesong Elementary consisted of one room, and most of its shelves were lined with copies of the Required Texts.

I had expected this library to be in disarray, shelving broken and books scattered, but everything was intact. Someone was taking care of the place.

According to Bim, _Feats of Clay_ was the only book in the library about my father, and I was willing to take his word for it. I decided to look for newspapers, instead. There were none to be found on the first floor, but I came across a flight of stairs that descended to the basement. A sign posted above it said: _Reading Room._

When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I had to fully dilate my pupils. A pair of window wells offered the only light, and they were choked with blue weeds.

But I'd come to the right place. A long table occupied the center of the room, and the bookshelves around it were stacked with newspapers and magazines.

I tried to pick up a copy of _Murdoch's Philadelphia Enquirer_ but it crumbled at my touch. I tried a magazine, _US News and Infotainment,_ with the same result. I was about to give up when I noticed a tall shelf containing thick binders. I pulled one down and placed it on the dust-covered table.

The label read: _New York Times 2064._ When I opened the cover, I found the front page of a newspaper encased in plastic. It was dated January 1st, 2064, and looked newly printed. I turned to the next page: January 2nd. I turned the binder face down and opened to the last page: December 31st. Each binder, it seemed, preserved an entire year's worth of front pages.

I turned it face up again, opened randomly to the middle, and started paging through it. The page dated June 7th, 2064, caught my eye, because the typeface was so large. The headline read: _In 8—5 Decision, Supreme Court Rolls Back Voting Rights._ In smaller typeface below, it read: _Only Property-Owning White Males Allowed to Vote in Upcoming Presidential Election._

I replaced that binder and pulled down the next, _New York Times 2065._ I opened it and went through day-by-day, looking for any headlines in unusually large typeface. I found one dated January 21st. It read: _Savage Takes Oath of Office, Signs Deportation Act._ Another one, dated April 9th, read: _National Army to Be Replaced by Local Militias._ In smaller typeface below, it read: _Navy and Air Force Slashed from Budget._

I realized that I was using the wrong approach. News of my father probably wouldn't rate such large typeface. I started over, focusing on the smaller headlines: _Philadelphia_ _Dome Construction Sparks Outcry; National Parks to Close, Privatize; Fifth Tornado Strikes Cleveland;_ and so forth.

At last, on a page dated August 29th, I found what I'd been hoping for. The headline read: _Prominent Scientist Resigns Post._

I read the first paragraph of the article: _Dr. James Clay, the father of modern android technology, resigned today as director of the Global Cooling Commission (GCC), the agency established under the Timberlake administration to reverse global warming._

The article went on for 9 more paragraphs. I wanted to read it right then, but decided to scan the whole page into memory instead. I closed out audio-visual and gross motor functions and started the scan.

When my functions rebooted, I discovered I couldn't move my arms.

A python was coiled around my torso, three full loops, its body as thick as a fire hose. Its face bobbed close to mine, staring into my eyes as it tried to squeeze the life out of me.

This attack was more a nuisance than anything else. I inhale and exhale air in order to speak, but I don't need it to survive. Nevertheless, I couldn't call out to Moto, so I trudged upstairs to find her, python around me.

She was right where I'd left her, keeping watch at the entryway. When she heard me approaching, she glanced over her shoulder and immediately leapt to her feet. Dashing across the room, she sank her teeth onto the python's tail and tried to circle around me, doing her best to unwind it. The python flexed its muscles, slamming her against the wall and breaking her hold.

I hurried out of the library, hoping to catch sight of the WaitTron. Fortunately, it hadn't gone far. It seemed to be walking in circles.

As Moto came up behind me, two more pythons attacked, coiling their bodies and launching themselves through the air. One wrapped itself around my legs, the other wrapped itself around Moto.

Ankles bound together, I hopped toward the WaitTron, which finally noticed me and came forward, saying, _"Would you like to order a beverage?"_

I said, "Two root beer floats, please."

As it lashed out its arm, I made sure the python's neck was in its path.

The WaitTron caught the snake near its head and began to pull. _"You must pledge fealty to Queen Scarlett."_

Now that the python's head was anchored, I spun in circles, unwinding myself. The WaitTron set off for points unknown, dragging the python to Queen Scarlett. I caught the other python's head in my hands and crushed its skull. Then I unwrapped my legs and hurried over to help Moto.

There wasn't much to be seen of her, just the tip of her nose and the end of her tail. I crushed that python's skull, too, and extracted Moto from the coils.

Three more pythons emerged from the trees below and slithered into the street. Moto looked up at me anxiously.

I said, "Don't worry, we're faster than they are. Just unfold your hands and do as I do."

The closest python sprang. I stepped out of its path and snatched it from the air. Shaking its head rapidly back and forth, I churned its brain inside its skull, killing it. As I flung it to the ground, the second python sprang.

Moto intercepted this one in midair, wrapping herself around it and riding it to the ground. When they'd tumbled to a halt, Moto got up on her hind legs and followed my lead, violently shaking the python's head until its body went limp.

I was waiting for the third python to spring when I saw two more snakes slither out from the trees, coming straight at us. They were four times the size of the ones we'd just killed, the length of railroad cars and the width of tree trunks. Parents, no doubt.

Crushing their skulls wasn't an option. Our best hope was to reach higher ground.

I looked up to the top of the hill, where the three decaying houses stood, setting my sights on the one with the dangling front porch. If we could get high enough up the cliff, Moto and I might be able to make the leap.

When I turned back, the third baby python was already in the air, coming at me. I caught it, spun around, and sent it flying back at its parents, hoping that might stop them. They ducked it and kept on coming.

I pointed to the house. "Up the hill, Moto, all the way to the top!"

We bolted up the slope, the monsters on our heels.

Sheer momentum carried us up the dirt cliff as our feet lost traction on the loosely packed earth. I made my leap and managed to grab the edge of the porch with one hand. Moto leapt as well, but dirt slid underfoot and she came up short. I managed to get my free arm under her. She scrabbled up to my shoulders and jumped to the porch from there.

I glanced down to see one of the pythons launch itself at me. I flung myself over the railing, out of reach. The python's head slammed against the underside of the porch and the impact started the house rocking, as though it were teetering on the edge of the cliff.

I rushed to the front door and threw it open. A hallway ran straight to the rear of the house. Moto and I tore through it, across moldering floorboards, and came flying out the back door.

Instead of landing in the backyard, we landed on a mound of dirt and debris in the open basement. The house had broken loose from its foundation and worked its way toward the cliff, possibly due to drone strikes.

This gave me an idea. I wasn't sure I should act on it, but I went ahead anyway. The chances of it working seemed remote.

I leapt out of the basement and over to the corner of the house, ordering Moto to the opposite side. Working my fingers under the frame, I lifted with all my strength. Moto unfolded her hands and followed my example.

The house was indeed teetering on the far end of its foundation. I lifted the corner to chest height, squatted, and got my shoulder under it. I strained upward, using all the strength in my legs. Moto was hunched beneath her corner, straining upward, too.

The house began to slide off its foundation.

I got my hands under the frame again and continued pushing upward, extending my arms overhead. Moto was on tiptoes now, no longer really helping, but it didn't matter. The house was on its way. It slid off its foundation with a long groan and toppled face first, breaking apart as it tumbled down the cliff.

The pythons didn't seem to grasp what was happening. They waited in place, staring upward. The house, now a splintered mass of debris, rolled right over them, chopping them to pieces, and scattered itself across the slope. Then all was still.

Moto trotted over to me and stood by my side, on the lip of the foundation.

I knelt down and patted her head. "Well done, Moto. You've really proved yourself today."

She looked at me and wagged her tail. It didn't seem to bother her that we had just killed five pythons, but it bothered me. The feeling of crushing their skulls stayed with me.

I stood up, turning my thoughts to other matters. The top of the hill commanded an excellent view of the surrounding area, and I got my first glimpse of Dome Nine from Outside. Far from being a transparent hemisphere, like a bell jar, it was solid black and impervious to light. In the opposite direction, Dome Ten had the same appearance.

It was a shocking sight, but one I was prepared for. The minute I'd seen the orange sky, I had understood the truth: everything seen from inside Dome Nine was an illusion. The waves that broke over the seawall, the trees on the distant hillsides, the rainstorms and snowstorms, the sun, the moon, the stars. Everything. That's why we couldn't see the Ruins or the other Domes. That's why the seasons came and went so peacefully. It was all projected above and around us, through some form of GR wizardry.

I was distracted from these thoughts by an astonishing sight. The lower slope, beyond the wreckage of the house, was now filling with children. They were streaming out from the ravine to the west, laughing and dancing and cheering. It was difficult to tell one from another, because they were all dressed in oversized gray t-shirts that came down to the knees.

The children formed themselves into a circle and began clapping in unison, gazing up to the cliff top where we stood.

I squatted next to Moto. "What do you think? Any danger?"

She looked down at the crowded slope and shook her head.

I said, "I guess we'd better go talk to them."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We went back the way we came, hopping off the edge of the cliff and dropping 20 feet to the loose earth of the slope below. From there, we scooted down the incline on a bed of sliding dirt and stones.

When we came around the wreckage of the house, the circle of clapping children parted to let us inside. That's when I realized that they weren't children at all, despite being about my height. Some faces were more youthful than others, but most displayed the lines and wrinkles of middle age. All the men wore full beards.

A man detached himself from the circle and came forward. His hair was black, his eyes were brown, and his skin was perfectly white. This seemed to be true of everyone. When he raised his hand the clapping died away.

He addressed me. "My name is Rafael. I speak for the Wissahickon clan." He extended his hand. "On behalf of everyone here, I thank you for killing those beasts. They've made our lives miserable for much too long."

I shook his hand. "I didn't intend to kill them. This is the first time I've ever taken another life. To be honest, I don't think I care for it."

Rafael nodded. "We share that sentiment, but don't blame yourself. It's part of Queen Scarlett's game to leave you no choice."

"What does Queen Scarlett have to do with it?"

"She created those monsters and brought them here."

"Why?"

"For the same reason she does everything. But it's bad luck to speak of Queen Scarlett. Let me introduce you to the clan."

I was about to tell him my name when he turned away and addressed the circle. "Gather around, everyone! Please welcome Teo, and..." He turned to me. "What's your iPup's name?"

"Moto."

"...and his iPup, Moto!"

The circle broke apart and smiling faces approached me from all sides. I didn't know quite how to respond to their gratitude. I shook dozens of hands and nodded a lot. As it became clear that the well-wishers wanted to thank Moto, too, she unfolded her paws and started shaking hands along with me.

This might have gone on indefinitely, if not for Moto. She suddenly cocked her head, folded up her hands, and took off through the crowd, barking. People stepped back in surprise, opening the way. I chased after her.

She dashed up the slope to where the house had disintegrated, paused for an instant to listen, then disappeared behind a large chunk of the roof. When I caught up with her, I understood her hurry.

A woman lay unconscious on the ground, her face blue. A baby python was coiled around her torso.

Moto unfolded her hands and reached for the serpent's neck, but I said, "No, Moto. No more killing."

I shrugged off my backpack, pulled out a shock wand, and jolted the python near its head. Its muscles convulsed and it went limp.

As Moto helped me free the woman from its coils, a crowd gathered around us. Two men rushed to the woman's side and began trying to revive her. She was still unconscious but breathing on her own. She seemed taller than the rest of her clan.

As I stood up, Rafael approached me in alarm. "What is that weapon? Does it produce electricity?"

I said, "Yes, it's a shock wand."

He turned to the crowd, raising his voice. "Drone attack! Everybody get below!"

Others took up the cry and the lower slope began to empty out as people streamed toward the ravine. The two men were preparing to lift the unconscious woman. One gripped her under the arms, the other below her knees.

Rafael urged them on. "We don't have much time!"

I said, "If we're in a hurry, maybe I should carry her."

The two men looked to Rafael, who nodded. They lifted her up and placed her in my arms.

Rafael said, "Follow me!" and started for the ravine at a jog, assuming the woman would slow me down.

Moto and I drew even with him. "You can run faster than that."

He picked up speed but still held back, so we passed him, following the crowd.

Everyone was headed toward the rock face on the far side of the ravine, jumping the creek that flowed through the middle. Once across, they ran up the bank to a cluster of boulders. Then they simply vanished.

Moto zoomed ahead and jumped the creek before me. As I leapt it myself, I could see that its waters were bright green. Halfway up the bank, I slowed to let Rafael catch up. People were arriving at the boulders from all directions and disappearing, one by one. I watched Moto disappear along with them.

Rafael hurried past me, saying, "I'll go first and you pass her down to me."

When we rounded the boulders, I could see why everyone was dropping out of sight. They were jumping into a circular hole, about 6 feet in diameter.

Rafael let the last few people go ahead of us, then made the jump himself, landing atop a boulder that was roughly the same size as the hole. I lowered the woman into his arms and he scooted down to the stone floor. As soon as he was out of the way, I jumped myself.

Two men were standing by, making sure everyone was in. Rafael gave them a nod and they put their shoulders to an enormous wooden wheel. As they turned it, the boulder began to rise, rotating on its platform. A wooden column the size of a tree trunk corkscrewed upward from below ground, pushing the boulder toward the opening above.

As Rafael strapped the unconscious woman onto a stretcher, I helped turn the wheel. Moto came over and joined me, and soon the platform dovetailed into the hole, securing the boulder above ground. Two wooden posts lay on the floor nearby. We upended them and wedged them into place, bracing the platform.

This struck me as futile. The supports might prevent outsiders from forcing their way in, but they didn't stand a chance in a drone strike.

Rafael came up behind me, sensing my thoughts. "Don't worry, the drones never strike the ravine."

"Why not?"

"Cassius provided us with a decoy. Every time a drone detects a signal, it traces it to the spot where the decoy is buried. Then it blasts away at it and the signal dies out and it flies off."

"That's why the hillside's been destroyed."

Rafael smiled. "Yes, and it's about to take another beating."

"The drones patrol for electrical signals?"

"Among other things. The GR believes that no electricity means no technology, and no technology means no threat."

"Then why wasn't I attacked by drones when I got here?"

"I'm not sure, but the drones ignore Low-bots, too. Your signal must be too weak to attract them."

This was certainly good luck.

I said, "What else do drones patrol for?"

"Gunfire, explosions, chemicals, anything that might be related to weaponry or bomb-making. Needless to say, there's none of that here."

"But you _do_ produce electrical signals."

He raised his arms, gesturing at the chamber around us. "See for yourself."

I realized, belatedly, that closing the hole had shut out all daylight. Nevertheless, the chamber was suffused with a gentle glow. As in Mr. Wu's guest room, the glow had no source.

I said, "I've seen this type of light before, but I have no idea how it works."

"I'm afraid I'm not a scientist. It transforms electrons into photons somehow. That's all I can tell you."

"The drones can't pick up the signal?"

Rafael shook his head. "Not from a single Glorb, or even a dozen. But we have hundreds in the cavern."

"Hundreds?"

"Yes. Ordinarily, nothing registers outside, but every so often a signal leaks out. It's maddening, because we never know when it's going to happen. We have to keep a lookout posted, day and night."

"How many people—"

I was interrupted by a shrill whistling sound.

Rafael said, "Speaking of lookouts..."

He crossed the chamber and spoke into the mouth of a metal pipe that extended upward, into the rocks above. "Nestor, what's happening?"

Nestor's voice echoed down the pipe. "Drone's here."

"The usual flight path?"

"Yeah."

"The decoy is on, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

Rafael called us over, saying, "Come down to the cavern and you won't hear a thing."

At the back of the chamber, the stone floor stopped short of the wall, leaving a 4-foot gap. I walked up to the edge and peered over. It was a straight drop into darkness. A web of ropes, like the rigging on a sailing ship, hung from the rear wall. Rafael leapt across the gap and grabbed hold.

He said, "Come on. It's an easy climb, but a long one."

Moto looked up at me.

I said, "I don't think there's any other way down."

She unfolded her hands and we leapt together.

The rigging was more stable than it looked. We descended quickly, facing the wall as we climbed, focused on the task at hand. I didn't turn around until my feet touched bottom.

I was expecting the cavern to be cramped and dimly lit. Instead, I felt as though I were standing in a city square at twilight. The walls soared high above us, aglow with points of light. Even the stone ceiling, 50 feet over our heads, shimmered like the sky at dusk.

In the center of the cavern lay an enormous stone slab that seemed to function as a table. Dozens of figures stood in place around it, bent over their work, books open before them. Most were so small they had to stand on boulders in order to reach the tabletop. I realized that these were the real children, tiny offspring of child-sized parents.

From the far side of the cavern came the flickering of firelight. Figures bustled about a wide stone hearth, tending to cauldrons suspended above the flames.

The walls that towered over us were pockmarked with niches that appeared to be tiny bedrooms. Rigging was everywhere, and a horizontal web of ropes, tightly woven, hung just below the cavern ceiling.

Rafael was watching me as I gazed about. "Welcome to our home, Teo. And welcome to you, too, Moto. You saved May's life and for that we can never repay you."

Moto wagged her tail.

I said, "I can't believe my eyes. How many people live here?"

"54 adults and 33 children."

"How did you ever find this place?"

"Our clan has been living in this cavern for over a hundred years. The story of how it came to pass is a long one. Regrettably, I can't share it with you."

"Why not?"

"Because it happened during the Bitter Years, and no one speaks of that time. You're welcome to read about it, if you wish. We all studied it in school. But no one talks about it."

"It's against the law?"

"We have no laws. It's simply a custom. But you'll find it's the case wherever you go."

I turned toward the stone table. "What are the children doing?"

Rafael followed my gaze. "They're working."

"I thought they might be in school."

"There's a fine line between the two. They have classes in the morning. After lunch, they work."

"What sort of work?"

"They're scribes. We all are. It's our contribution."

"I don't know what a scribe is."

Rafael shook his head. "Forgive me. Simply put, we copy out books, bind them, and barter them with other clans."

"What books?"

"We're limited by what's in our library, but it's a reasonably good collection. Occasionally, we'll go to the Ruins for something rare."

"There's a library there?"

"No, UNK/C reduced that to rubble. Before it was destroyed, though, certain materials were removed."

"How many books have you copied out?"

Raphael shrugged. "We lost count long ago. Right now, we're working on _Huckleberry Finn."_

"What's that?"

"It's the story of America, Teo, as it once was, the good and the bad. You must read it sometime. Right now, though, I very much want to see how May is doing."

"I just have one more question: how is it you know my name?"

"Why, Bim told us, of course."

"You've actually heard him speak?"

Rafael smiled. "I didn't mean to imply _that._ Bim writes down whatever he wishes to say. After all, we have plenty of paper."

"I was wondering about that. Where do you get it? Do you make it?"

"No, no, we get it from various Finders."

"What are Finders?"

Rafael smiled. "I thought you said _one_ question. I don't mean to be impolite, but I'm anxious to check on May. Will you come with me?"

We walked in silence as he led us toward the side wall. As we neared it, I could see that we were approaching an underground stream. We turned and followed along its edge until it disappeared into an opening in the wall.

Rafael said, "This is where we keep our infirmary."

We left the main cavern, following the stream into its tunnel, which was also aglow with light. I now understood why the Wissahickon clan needed hundreds of Glorbs.

Rafael veered away from the stream, down a narrow passageway that seemed to be a natural fissure. It opened into a chamber that was just large enough to accommodate three beds, a desk, and rows of shelving, all fashioned from pale-blue wood. The lower shelves were stocked with boxes and bins and bottles. Electronic devices lined the top shelves. I had never seen anything like them in Dome Nine.

May had the infirmary to herself. She was sitting upright in her bed, leaning back on a cushion, awake and alert. As we approached her bedside, I studied her for the first time. Her face had the creases and jowls of old age, but her piercing blue eyes showed no signs of senility. Judging by the bed, she was indeed taller than the rest of her clan. Her feet jutted out beyond the footboard.

Rafael said, "Has Santos seen you yet?"

May said, "A couple of minutes ago. After he checked me over, he went to find Miri."

Rafael took her hand. "How are you feeling?"

May looked away. "Like an idiot, of course."

"Nonsense. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is. I knew what I was getting into."

"You wanted to see them for yourself."

"Yes."

"I would have done the same thing."

May didn't reply. She was staring into the distance.

Rafael released her hand. "I've brought visitors. This is Teo and his iPup, Moto. Their quick thinking saved your life."

She came out of her reverie and gave me a half-smile. "Pleased to meet you, Teo. How can I thank you?"

I said, "You shouldn't. Moto deserves all the credit."

She shook her head. "I don't mean for saving my life. I'm a useless old crone. I mean for killing those two monsters."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't proud of what I'd done. I was just the opposite, whatever that might be.

Rafael filled the silence. "I know how you can repay Teo."

She turned to him. "How?"

"He's is an inquisitive young man and this is his first time Outside. It would be most enlightening, I'm sure, if you'd let him sit with you awhile."

"That's pretty shabby repayment."

"I think not. He has many questions and you can answer them as well as anyone."

They exchanged a look and then she turned back to me. "Have a seat, Teo. I'll try not to bore you to death."

Rafael offered me a chair. I pulled it up to May's bedside and sat down. Moto curled up beside me.

Rafael said, "I'm going to check in with Nestor. I'll be back in a few minutes." He turned and walked out.

May gazed at me, waiting.

I said, "You wanted to see the dead pythons because they killed someone close to you."

She held up her hand. "The first thing you need to know, Teo, is that no one asks personal questions Outside. If you don't know someone well, it's considered the height of rudeness."

"Why is that?"

"I take it you're from the Domes."

"Correct."

"Has anyone brought you up to speed yet?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know about the Invasion?"

"Yes."

"And the storms that preceded it?"

"Yes."

"And the Great Starvation?"

Mr. Wu had hinted at this. "Did that take place _after_ the Invasion?"

"Yes, during the Glorious Salvation, as the GR so whimsically calls it. UNK/C let everyone outside the Domes starve to death."

"Why?"

"Kim Jong-pil wanted them killed and it was simpler than trying to execute everyone. All the peacekeepers had to do was guard the Domes and wait."

"There wasn't any food Outside?"

May shook her head. "After the Crash, society crumbled. Transportation ground to a halt and the supermarkets were stripped bare. People were hoarding food, fighting and killing over it. Then UNK/C invaded and the real nightmares began. When it was all over, every plant or animal that could be eaten had been wiped out. The entire ecosystem was destroyed. Only one in fifty people survived."

"What does that have to do with asking personal questions?"

She glared at me. "Think about it! Suppose you were one of the survivors and someone asked you a personal question. What would happen? The next thing you know, you'd be talking about all the friends and family you'd lost. No one wanted to talk about it. Everyone just wanted to forget. It's as simple as that."

"Obviously, your clan survived down here."

"That's the _next_ thing, Teo. Nobody talks about the Bitter Years."

"I know, Rafael told me. But I got the impression he wanted you to speak freely."

"Sure, as far as it goes. That's why I'm telling you about the Great Starvation."

"But you're not going to tell me how your clan ended up down here?"

May sighed. "For one thing, this isn't really my clan, so it isn't really my story. My grandmother was born right here in Philadelphia. The Wissahickon Clan is basically Peruvian. They came here as refugees from Atlantic City, after Hurricane Barney. They'd been working in the casinos for two or three generations. The government bussed them to a camp right here in Wissahickon Park."

"How did they know about this cavern?"

"They didn't. My grandmother did. Refugees were being rounded up under the Deportation Act. When the militias came after the Peruvians, my grandmother helped them hide. She knew about a gap in the rock face that led to a passageway. It was so narrow that only the children and a few young women could squeeze through. But the passageway went all the way down to the stream."

"So they had a source of drinking water."

May nodded. "There was food, too, fish and frogs and salamanders. But it's the water that really saved them. During the Great Starvation, more people died of thirst, or from drinking contaminated water, than died of hunger."

"What became of your grandmother?"

"She looked after them as long as she could. She brought them candles and blankets and books by the hundreds. And after the Crash she brought them one last thing: her baby daughter, April. That was my mother. April went on to write a history of the Bitter Years, the one all the children study in school." May folded her arms. "You should read it yourself, because that's the only way you're going to find out anything else. Now that you've heard my little piece, that's it! I'm done."

I could see there was no use arguing. "All right, enough about the Bitter Years. Are you willing to talk about Queen Scarlett?"

She grimaced. "I suppose so. What about her?"

"Rafael said she _created_ those pythons. How is that possible?"

"She tampers with nature the way she tampers with machines. She found a way to quadruple their size."

"How?"

May looked at me in annoyance. "Genetic engineering."

"What's that?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Scientists can muck about with an animal's genes and change whatever they wish. They've been doing it for 200 years now. Naturally, Queen Scarlett uses it for evil."

"She's a scientist?"

"A brilliant one, in her own horrific way. Her skyscraper is chock-a-block with laboratories."

"She has a skyscraper?"

"Oh yes. She rules Baltimore from on high."

"Baltimore is a city?"

Annoyance flickered across May's face again. "Yes, just down the coast from here. The GR has her ruling the Inland Baltimore Complex, all ten Domes."

"Why?"

"I imagine she saves them a lot of money. Aside from that, who knows? The GR does whatever it pleases. We don't waste a lot of time wondering why."

"I'm leaving for Washington, DC tomorrow."

May looked up sharply. "Well, don't go through Baltimore, whatever you do."

"Why not?"

"You'll never be heard from again."

"Then how should I get there?"

May shrugged. "Everyone goes the long way around, up 695. Queen Scarlett considers that her property line. But it adds forty miles to the trip."

"Is that the only route?"

"Once in a while someone tries to go by boat. They're never heard from again, either."

"Queen Scarlett rules the ocean, too?"

"No. As a matter of fact, she won't go near it."

"Then what makes the route dangerous?"

"If she happens to spot a boat, she sends out a waterspout and drowns everyone aboard."

"Queen Scarlett can control the weather?"

May nodded ruefully. "It's one of her hobbies. But I'll tell you something odd. The weather has gone back to normal recently. We're getting downpours in the afternoon again. The drought's almost over."

"Are you saying Queen Scarlett created this drought?"

"Probably."

"But why?"

This time, May let her annoyance show. "Teo, you're going to get on everyone's nerves if you keep asking that question! Queen Scarlett is evil, and whatever she does, morning, noon, and night, is evil, too! You might as well ask why the sun shines!"

"All right, let me put it another way. What did she hope to accomplish with this drought?"

"She wanted everyone to starve. No rain, no food."

"I don't even know what you eat. Do you grow your own crops?"

May ignored the question. "I'll tell you how we got through the drought: python eggs. The mother laid them by the hundreds, eggs the size of your head. Queen Scarlett had us living like prehistoric mammals, scraping by on reptile eggs. We'd scurry out at night to collect them."

"And before the drought?"

She looked at me in wonder. "There's food everywhere you look."

"All I saw was blue weeds and brush and shriveled up trees."

"Oops. My mistake."

"So where is all this food?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"You aren't going to tell me?"

"I don't want to spoil the surprise. Next question."

Before I could ask anything else, Rafael and another man entered the infirmary, joining us at May's bedside. As I stood up, Moto hopped to her feet along with me.

Rafael made the introductions. "Santos, this is Teo and his iPup, Moto. As you may have heard, they just dropped a house on the two monsters."

Santos smiled and shook my hand, saying, "Yes, word travels fast around here. I wish I could have seen it with my own eyes."

Once again, I was at a loss for words. All I could say was, "Pleased to meet you."

Santos turned to May. "How's my only patient?"

She sighed. "All talked out."

He turned toward the shelves. "Let's check your numbers."

He took an electronic device from the top shelf and brought it over to May. It looked like a tiny television with cable attached to the back. At the end of the cable was a small metal disc.

He touched this to May's chest, watching the screen. "Aside from a slight drop in kidney function, your numbers are good. But I still want to keep you here until dinnertime."

May yawned. "Good, I could use a nap."

I said, "I appreciate your speaking with me."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I do prattle on. Good luck getting to Washington."

"Thank you."

As we were leaving the infirmary, Rafael said, "You're going to Washington, DC?"

"Yes. I leave tomorrow morning."

"I assume you're going to see Cassius."

"Yes."

"How do you plan to get there?"

We emerged from the fissure and followed the stream, Moto trotting between us.

I said, "I'm not sure. At first I was planning to take Interstate 95, but everyone keeps telling me to avoid Baltimore. Avoiding it would make the trip a lot longer and it still sounds dangerous."

"In all honesty, there's no safe way to get past it."

"There's another problem. I was planning to follow the main storm drain all the way to the end, but an underground river joins it."

Rafael nodded. "That's Wingohocking Creek. We've never gone past that point ourselves. But I know the outfall dumps right into the Delaware River."

"How far is that from the ocean?"

"Now that New Jersey's gone, you can scarcely to tell the two apart."

"So I could conceivably make it from there to the Atlantic?"

"You would need a boat, of course. Have you got one?"

"No."

"Well, we do."

I stopped in my tracks. "You have a boat?"

Rafael turned. "Just a rowboat. A lifeboat, actually."

"What do you use it for?"

"We don't. The Delaware Clan needed a dozen copies of _Death of a Salesman_ and they'd had a bad month. Instead of snakeheads, we accepted the lifeboat. We didn't know quite what to do with it, so we put it up by the crow's nest. The kids used to play in it, before the monsters arrived."

"Are you offering it to me?"

"Of course. If you'd like, I can take you up to see it right now."

"Please."

Rafael led us toward the rear of the cavern, to the spot where we'd first arrived. He took hold of the rigging, saying, "The return trip is more tedious," and hoisted himself up.

He made the climb at a pace that was hard to match. When we emerged from the gap, I could see that the portal had been reopened. The sky outside was filled with maroon clouds.

Two men were resting against the wooden wheel, keeping an informal watch. Beyond them, a ladder fashioned from blue wood was leaning up against the rim of the portal. Rafael led us to it, saying, "I'm afraid we haven't much time. We have to close up before the rains begin."

Moto and I followed him up the ladder.

The winds were gusting at ground level and the air had an unfamiliar smell. Clouds roiled overhead.

Rafael was watching me. "What you're smelling is ozone. There's an electrical storm on the way."

Moto looked to the east and growled.

I said, "Don't worry, Moto, it's just a thunderstorm."

This didn't reassure her.

Rafael said, "The boat's at the top of the ravine. There are easier ways to get there, but we'd better take the fastest route."

He turned to the rock face and began to climb.

I let Moto go first, in case she got into trouble. I needn't have bothered. She scampered up as though she'd done it a thousand times. I hurried after her.

The winds were stronger at the top of the bluff. We followed a footpath along the rim and soon came to the lifeboat. It was lying on the ground, bottom up, and was larger than I'd expected, almost 12 feet from end to end. It looked heavy.

Rafael said, "We have to keep it upside down, otherwise it fills with rainwater. We only flip it over when the kids want to use it. Thanks to you and Moto, they'll be able to go outside again."

Moto didn't seem to be listening. She looked east and growled again.

I knelt beside her. "What is it, Moto? Is the storm upsetting you?"

She shook her head.

"What is it, then? Is something wrong?"

She nodded, eyes still on the sky. Then she began to bark.

At the same time, someone started calling to us. About a hundred yards away, near the high point on the bluff, I could see a man waving his arms. His words were drowned out by Moto's barking.

I said, "Moto, hush."

She obeyed, looking very unhappy.

The man, whom I took to be Nestor, was shouting, "Queen Scarlett, from the east!"

I stood up, turning to look.

Rafael grabbed my arm. "No time! Under the boat!"

The rail of the upside down lifeboat formed an arch that was wide enough for us to squeeze through. From the inside, it offered a view of the dirt cliff and the wreckage of the house.

Something swooped down from the sky, so fast it was a blur, and landed on the slope. It was some sort of enormous bird, with pointed ears and a claw-like beak. Queen Scarlett was seated upon its back, behind its wings, dressed in blood-red robes and a blood-red cloak, a jagged gold crown resting atop her head. Her face, harsh-featured and cruel, was surprisingly familiar.

As the bird lowered its body to the ground, I realized that it walked on four legs.

Queen Scarlett leapt off and strode down the slope, toward the woods. Inserting two fingers into her mouth, she blew through them, producing a piercing shriek. She paused, listening, then blew again. She took a few more steps toward the trees, head cocked. Then she looked over her shoulder toward the wreckage of the house, putting it all together.

She strode back up the slope, past her beast, and disappeared into the wreckage.

Rafael whispered, "In all my years, I've never seen Queen Scarlett come from the east. She always comes from the west."

I had a plausible explanation, but a long one. "What will she do when she finds them?"

"There's always hope she'll think it was an accident."

She didn't.

She emerged from the wreckage carrying two banisters, one in each hand, and plunged them into the ground, both at once, working them down until they supported themselves. Then she crossed to her beast, drew a broadsword, and returned to the wreckage.

I whispered to Rafael. "She carries a sword?"

"No guns Outside, anywhere."

Half a minute later, she was back by her beast's side, the sword dripping with blood. She wiped it clean on the hem of her cloak, sheathed it, and returned to the wreckage once more.

She emerged with two severed python heads, carrying them by the tongues, and brought them over to where the banisters stood. Dropping one head on the ground, she raised the other, bringing it down hard, impaling it atop the pole. She repeated this with the other head, then looked up at the bluff, as though she knew exactly where we were hiding.

She called to us. "I bring you two lovely pets and _this_ is the thanks I get! Well, I'll be back with some new pets, and they won't be half so cuddly!"

She paused to look about. "For now, though, I think I'll stroll down to the library. You don't mind if I take out a few of books, do you?"

She strode off downhill, toward the street.

Moto growled.

I said, "We've got to stop her."

Rafael shook his head. "Absolutely not!"

I knew it wasn't the right time to confront Queen Scarlett, but I couldn't let her destroy any books, either.

Just then, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and raindrops began to spatter the lifeboat.

Queen Scarlett turned, looking to the sky, and screeched, "Curse the rain!"

As she ran for her beast, raising the hood of her cloak, she whistled—short, long, short. The beast got to its feet and started off at a gallop, wings beating the air. She caught up with it and leapt onto its back and they climbed into the sky, just clearing the bluff, passing directly overhead.

I rolled out from under the boat in time to see them rocket straight upward and punch through the storm clouds. In their wake came an animal stench.

I scarcely noticed it, riveted instead by a miraculous sight.

The rain was pouring down now, soaking the blue weeds and scrub brush and trees. As I watched, they began to rise up and stretch toward the sky. The trees doubled in height, unfurling their branches. The scrub brush expanded upward and outward, forming tangled hedgerows. The weeds pushed away from the earth, turning to fields of tall grass.

Rafael appeared by my side.

I said, "How is this possible?"

He smiled. "Ask Cassius, when you see him."

Before my eyes, the trees were producing fruit, the bushes were sprouting berries, and the tall grass was going to seed.

I said, "This is what you eat, isn't it?"

"This is what everyone eats, since the Great Starvation."

"Cassius did this?"

"Yes."

We watched in silence, getting soaked ourselves, as the trees and hedges and fields of grass danced in the wind and rain.

The downpour eventually tapered off and stopped, but the plants kept their expanded forms.

Rafael said, "We'd better do something about those snake heads before the children come out."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Half an hour later, the ravine was filled with tiny children, jumping and climbing and racing about as the adults watched over them. The sky was bright orange again and yellow clouds drifted overhead.

Rafael organized a group of men to bring the lifeboat down from the bluff. We used a primitive method that worked perfectly well, rolling it on logs through the tall blue grass. I was concerned about trampling this crop, which the clan called _shay_ and harvested like wheat, but they assured me that they had more than enough, and indeed every hillside was covered with it.

When we'd rolled the lifeboat all the way to the upper slope, Rafael let the helpers go.

After they'd gone, I said, "I'm not sure Moto and I can carry this boat all the way back. We've got miles of pipe to get through and it weighs approximately 300 pounds."

"Actually, it doesn't weigh anything at all."

I wasn't sure what Rafael meant. I waited.

He raised his arms. "Right now, the storm drains are flooded. You can just float it back. You won't even have to row."

I trotted up the slope to the crater and peered into it. Sure enough, water was coursing through the storm drain, headed south.

We rolled the lifeboat up to the lip of the crater and over it, until it came to rest, nose first, on the downward slope.

I said, "I guess Moto and I can take it from here."

Rafael said, "Nonsense. I'll help you cast off."

"May I ask you one last question?"

"Certainly."

"Why is the water green? Is it safe to drink?"

"You said one question."

"They're related."

"But they require two answers. Rivers, lakes and streams—even the ocean itself—have been overrun with a form of fluorescent algae. Thus the color. If you strain the water, you can drink it, but the process is time-consuming and the taste is horrible."

"I see."

Rafael gave me a look. "You're taking someone with you to Washington, DC."

"Three people, actually. Bim, my friend Luma, and my classmate, Dogan."

"So you need food and water."

"Yes. I know where to find food now. Water is the problem."

Rafael said, "Wait right here."

He jogged down the slope and spoke with one of the helpers, who disappeared into the ravine. The helper soon reappeared with a glass cylinder, which he handed to Rafael.

I studied it as Rafael came back up the slope. It was similar to the device I'd seen in Mr. Wu's kitchen.

As he drew near, Rafael held it up. "This is a VaporFlask. It's the safest way to get clean drinking water."

"Cassius again?"

"He seems to have an unlimited supply. All the clans have them." He handed it to me. "Here, try it. It extracts moisture from the air. Just press that button."

I pressed it and water rose up, as though poured from a pitcher, filling the VaporFlask to the top.

Rafael said, "They're not always so fast. Rainstorms help."

"Thank you. This will be very useful. And thank you for the boat."

"It's the very least we could do."

As I was putting the VaporFlask in my backpack, Rafael said, "May I make an observation?"

"Of course."

"You and Moto are well equipped to survive Outside, but there's a great deal you don't know and your lessons will be learned the hard way. Bim will be fine. He's experienced and has his own set of skills. But I would think twice about bringing the other two along, unless it's absolutely necessary."

"But it's Dogan's father we're looking for."

"You don't owe me any explanations, Teo. I wish you only the best of luck. Now, let's get this boat into the water."

At its widest, the lifeboat was 5 feet 7 inches, and the storm drain was only 6 feet 6 inches in diameter. I couldn't have rowed if I'd wanted to. Fortunately, Rafael was right. Once we were up to speed, the racing water carried us southward at approximately 12 mph.

The lifeboat had three seats, which ran crosswise, side to side. I was sitting in the middle seat, facing the bow. Moto was sitting in the front seat, hands unfolded, gripping the rails. The third seat, in the stern, would be wide enough for Luma, Bim and Dogan to sit on together.

Once we were out to sea, I planned to row nonstop. With luck, we might reach Washington, DC before nightfall tomorrow.

Our prospects looked good except for one thing: I had never rowed a boat before. There are no lakes or ponds in Dome Nine. I'd seen people rowing boats in movies, I suppose, but those memories had been deleted. One thing seemed obvious: I had to sit facing the bow, otherwise I wouldn't be able to see where I was going.

Trouble started the moment we emerged into the main storm drain. I had wanted to turn upstream, toward the east, and row back to Bim's ladder. Before I could even get the oars into place, though, the current swung the bow in the wrong direction and the lifeboat headed west.

By the time I got the oars into the water, we had traveled 100 yards downstream. I managed to turn the boat around, but in the meantime we were pulled another 100 yards to the west. Moto kept glancing over her shoulder at me, losing faith.

When we were finally pointed in the right direction, I started rowing east, but something wasn't right. In order to move upstream, I had to _push_ the oar handles. I quickly realized I could exert much more force by _pulling_ the oar handles, but this meant I had to turn the boat around again. Moto was looking at me in pity now.

When we were finally turned, I started rowing in earnest, pulling the oar handles toward me and putting my back into it. Unfortunately, I was rowing stern-first. This time, I turned _myself_ around, a big improvement, except that we were headed downstream again. I turned the boat around one more time.

By then, we were so far west that I reconsidered the whole notion of rowing back to Bim's ladder. Why not tie up at the next available ladder, wait for the water to recede, and walk back? In the morning, Moto and I could escort the others down to the lifeboat. It wouldn't be going anywhere until the afternoon rains came.

I stopped rowing and let the boat drift backwards with the current, ordering Moto to take the line in her teeth. A ladder was approaching on the right. As we neared it, I began rowing hard, until the boat was standing still in the rushing water.

Moto leapt from the bow to the ladder and lashed the line around one of the rungs. As I pulled in the oars, the boat continued downstream and Moto's line snapped taut. I used my legs to keep the boat from slamming the wall, and after that it settled down, swaying gently in the current. We were docked.

I swung my legs back in and called to Moto. She hopped from the ladder to the front seat, and then into my lap. I patted her head saying, "Good work, Moto. Another job well done."

She wagged her tail.

"You deserve a rest. I think we both do. Why don't you curl up and take a nap?"

Moto folded up her hands, crossed her front paws and rested her chin on them. A moment later, her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

For my part, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Now that I could spare the time, I called up the front page I'd scanned from the _New York Times,_ and proceeded to read the entire article.

Prominent Scientist Resigns Post.

Dr. James Clay, the father of modern android technology, resigned today as director of the Global Cooling Commission (GCC), the agency established under the Timberlake administration to reverse global warming.

In a two-sentence press release, Dr. Clay implied that he was resigning due to philosophical differences. "I had hoped to find common ground with President Savage on the challenges that threaten our existence. Regrettably, I cannot, and am forced to choose other paths."

The president, vacationing at the vice-presidential compound in Wilson, Wyoming, responded in his daily radio address.

" _You want to know the truth, Dr. Uppity jumped before he got pushed, 'cause I was about to fire his sorry ass. Where does he get off, trash talking me? Let me tell you something, it ain't easy finding common ground with someone who lives in a tree! He says he's choosing other paths. Well, I got some advice for you, Joey-boy! Choose a path right out of America, 'cause you don't belong here! You got no idea what this country's all about and you never will!"_

After enduring repeated personal attacks throughout last year's presidential campaign, Dr. Clay surprised virtually everyone by announcing his intention to continue on as GCC director under President Savage.

Dr. Clay served in the Timberlake administration for close to three years. Although his post was not a cabinet-level position, he was President Timberlake's closest advisor on all matters scientific. In addition to advising on such issues such as Internet defense and drone warfare, he was personally responsible for redesigning the presidential command and control center to be used in the event of a nuclear attack from United North Korea, Af-Pakistan or Iraq.

It's clear that Dr. Clay was also a personal friend of President Timberlake, as evidenced by his impassioned defense of the president during impeachment hearings 2 and 3. It was his disdain for the president's accusers—including Trip Savage himself—that made the idea of his serving in the Savage administration unthinkable.

Dr. Clay is expected to resume fulltime research on artificial intelligence, the limitations of which remain the last obstacle to his stated goal of "designing a new android that is lifelike in every way and can think as we do."

_Intensely private about his personal life, Dr. Clay surprised observers last month by granting an interview to_ Murdoch's TimeLifeLookPeopleUs _magazine, which arrives on newsstands this week. Selected excerpts were leaked on Friday. In them, Dr. Clay breaks his silence about the death of his—_ _continued A16_

That was all. The article was incomplete. Apparently, the remainder would have been found on the inner pages of that day's paper, published 108 years ago, on August 29th, 2065. Searching for it would be fruitless, as would be searching for a surviving copy of _Murdoch's TimeLifeLookPeopleUs_ magazine.

As with _Feats of Clay,_ I had to make do with what I'd been given. Although this short article offered more information than that entire book, the incomplete sentence at the end made clear how little I really knew.

I sat for a while thinking about my father, as Moto slept on my lap. My thoughts, however, were disrupted by memories of killing the baby pythons, particularly the feeling of crushing their skulls in my hands.

I decided to watch _The Big Heat_ again, to get a better understanding of the code the hero, Bannion, lived by, and where it stood on the matter of taking another life. When I'd finished, I wasn't sure quite what to think, so I proceeded to watch the end of _Shane_ again, as well.

The two heroes were opposites. Everything Bannion did was done out of rage, whereas Shane wasn't motivated by anger in any way. Bannion wanted revenge on everyone. Shane only exacted it on the behalf of others. And yet their codes were the same.

The villains had no respect for human life, but the heroes, in the course of bringing them to justice, were also willing to commit murder. The implication seemed to be that murder was right or wrong depending on one's motives. This just made the issue all the more confusing.

When I finished, at 8:17 PM, the water level stood at approximately 17 inches, still too deep for Moto to walk through. Getting back to Bim's ladder tonight seemed impossible. It also seemed unnecessary. We could just spend the night right where we were and walk back in the morning.

I decided to shut down manually, but put it off in order to consider Rafael's words of caution.

I found them hard to argue with. My mistakes could easily get Dogan and Luma killed. I had no real idea of what I was doing Outside, anymore than I knew how to row a boat. We didn't _need_ Dogan in order to find his father, and there was no good reason to put Luma at risk, just because she wanted to run away from home.

I realized that I was bringing her along because I didn't want to be without her. This was what humans referred to as _selfishness._ I wasn't sure if it was an emotion, exactly, but I was guilty of it either way.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I never got the chance to shut down. As I was fishing Moto's remote out of my backpack, she awoke with a start. She looked around, unfolded her hands, and shot out of the lifeboat and up the ladder, headed for who-knows-where.

By the time I got to the ladder, she was up and gone, through the open manhole. As I made the climb myself, I could see that night had fallen. I popped out of the opening and managed to catch a glimpse of her as she disappeared into an alleyway.

A quick glance around confirmed my suspicion: we were somewhere in the Ruins. Windowless buildings loomed above and rubble littered the streets.

I rounded the corner and charged down the alley. Halfway down, I found Moto flinging furry creatures left and right. Judging by the photographs I'd seen in the Extinction Catalogs, these were cats of some sort, but they were much larger—and considerably less extinct—than housecats.

There were nine in all, and they'd converged around a central point. They seemed to be gnawing and clawing at something on the ground, exactly what, I couldn't see. Moto was in the process of peeling them away one by one, grabbing them by the scruff of the neck and tossing them over her shoulder. When they hit the ground, they dashed past me, running for their lives.

After she'd cleared five of them, the remaining four realized what was going on, arching their backs and hissing. Moto lunged at them and they turned and fled out the other end of the alley, vanishing into the night.

And then I could see what the cats had been tearing at. It was an iPup, the same model as Moto, as far as I could tell. It was difficult to say, because it was covered in dirt and the cats had dismembered it. Where legs had once been, wires now dangled. It lay motionless, eyes closed, as though shut down.

As Moto sniffed at it cautiously, I squatted down, extending my hand toward its head. Perhaps I was going to pat it. I don't know.

Its eyes snapped open and it flung itself at me, teeth clamping onto my hand. It moved very fast and its jaws were powerful. Someone had tampered with it.

I jumped up, letting it hang from my arm, unsure of what to do. Moto was staring at it in surprise, equally unsure. And then it began to emit a horrendous screeching sound, one that no normal iPup could make.

Figures appeared at both ends of the alleyway. It took me a moment to realize that they were all Menials: PilotTrons, HandiTrons, MailTrons, NanniTrons. The legless iPup was calling to them.

I looked up, hoping for a fire escape. No luck. I looked down, hoping for a manhole.

A few yards from where we stood, a pair of metal doors was set into the pavement, hinges on the outside edges. To my surprise, they burst open, revealing a steep flight of stairs below.

A man stuck his head out, apparently quite irritated, saying, "What the bloody hell?!?"

He glanced at us, then up and down the alley, and rolled his eyes. He waved us over impatiently, saying "Come on, then!" and hurried back down the stairs.

Moto and I exchanged a look and started after him. Lacking any better ideas, I stepped over to the wall and slammed the iPup against it. The screeching stopped. When I slammed it a second time, its jaws went slack and it fell to the ground. In spite of this, the Menials continued closing in from both directions.

By then, our rescuer was at the foot of the stairs, looking up, hands on hips. He was portly and baldheaded and sported a walrus mustache. He said, "We haven't got all day!"

Moto and I hurried down the stairs. When we reached bottom, he let out a long sigh and climbed up again, closing the doors and bolting them. He came back down, shaking his head, and walked past us as though we didn't exist.

We followed him down a short passageway. It opened into a spacious cellar filled with tables and chairs and lit by Glorbs. At the far end was a bar.

People were seated here and there, most of them alone, some at tables, some along the bar, all with drinks in front of them. They looked up indifferently as our rescuer walked in. Without breaking stride, he jerked his thumb at us. "We've got a pair of bloody Domers in our midst."

He crossed the room and took his place behind the bar. The people stared at us for a moment or two, then turned back to their drinks.

I decided to head for the bar, as well. I took a barstool at the far end. Moto jumped onto the one beside it and curled up.

Our rescuer came grudgingly toward us. "Would you care for a drink?"

Just to be polite, I said, "What have you got?"

This set him off again. "What have I _got?_ I've got Mash, the only bloody drink there is! Take it or leave it!"

I said, "Actually, I don't want anything, other than to thank you for your help."

He softened slightly. "First time in the Ruins, is it?"

"First time Outside."

He picked up a pint glass and started drying it with a rag. "Well, try not to fall for the dead iPup again. Mark of a rank amateur."

"Queen Scarlett tampered with it, didn't she? And the Menials, as well?"

"Heard about Queen Scarlett already, have you?"

"Actually, I heard about her in the Domes, through my friend, Bim."

He looked up in surprise. "Bim Crawfield? Do you know him, then?"

"He's a classmate of mine."

"You're from Dome Nine, are you?"

"Yes."

He broke into a grin. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Any friend of Bim's is a friend of mine!" He extended his hand. "I'm Archibald, bartender to the Mash-Heads."

I shook it, saying, "My name's Teo, and this is Moto."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Are the Mash-Heads a clan?"

"Of a sort, of a sort... I say, how's Bim? I haven't seen him in quite a spell."

"He's well."

"Clever lad. Can't hear a bloody word he says, but smart as a whip. Read every book known to man."

"Bim referred to those Menials as Low-bots."

Archibald shook his head. "Not Low-bots, _LobeBot_ s. Bit of pun, actually."

"How so?"

"You've never heard the term 'lobotomy'?"

"No."

"A crude sort of brain surgery, performed on lunatics in the 20th Century. Cut out their frontal lobes, they did. Turned them into walking vegetables."

"Are you implying that LobeBots are walking vegetables?"

"Next best thing, really. To get them to attack humans, Queen Scarlett has to cut out all sorts of circuitry. By the time she's done, they're blithering idiots. They're only dangerous in numbers."

"But if one gets a hold of you, you can't break free."

"If you're fool enough to end up like that, you can always have a go at the failsafe button."

"I tried that and it didn't work."

"Not the ones above the collarbone. Queen Scarlett deactivates those, of course. But she has to have another one, for her own safety."

"Where is it?"

Archibald smiled. "It's on the right heel. She's having everyone on a bit there."

"What?"

"It's a joke, don't you see?"

"How is that a joke?"

"Achilles' heel, and all that?"

"I'm sorry."

Archibald looked exasperated. "What the devil do they teach you kids in school, anyway?"

"I can name every city and town in United North Korea."

"Of what bloody use is that?"

"None that I know of."

Archibald tossed his rag aside and fell silent.

I said, "Where did _you_ go to school?"

"Learned all I know on my father's knee, I did."

"And where did _he_ go to school?"

"In the Domes, learning GR rubbish, like you. But he got out."

"What Dome was he in?"

"Lancashire 2, four miles outside of Liverpool."

"Is that anywhere near Philadelphia?"

Archibald rolled his eyes again. "It's in bloody _England._ Haven't you ever seen a globe, for God's sake?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Well, it's across the Atlantic Ocean from America."

"How on earth did you end up over here?"

"Came across the pond in a bloody cargo crate, on a bloody GR freighter. Smuggled out, you see."

"By whom, your clan?"

"We don't have clans in England. We Brits are very proper, don't you know. Not as _ad hoc_ as you Americans."

"Not as what?"

" _Ad hoc._ I don't suppose they're teaching you Latin?"

"What's that?"

"I can't explain every bloody word I say! You'll have me knocking back Mash with the rest of the sods."

"You don't drink it yourself?"

"I'll have a nip, yeah, now and again. When I'm not working. But I don't make a bloody _career_ out of it!"

"Forgive me, but what is Mash exactly?"

"You take breadfruit and shay, throw in hazelberries for sugar, add blue mushroom powder, and let it bake in the sun for a fortnight. Then you can live on the stuff, if that's your cup of tea. I stopped serving food a week after I opened this place. There wasn't any bloody point."

"So you don't have clans in England."

"Everything's different there, lad. Once the bloody Domes were up, your bloody Savior sent half a dozen bloody typhoons across the British Isles and washed everything out to sea. You might say the waves ruled Britannia, what?"

This seemed to be another joke I didn't get.

Archibald continued. "So it's not like here, where a lot of people made it through. We were all just escapees from the Domes, living under a GR garbage heap. We didn't have a Cassius to feed us and care for us, like you Yanks. And a bloody damn shame it was, too, especially for Mother..." He paused. "But here I am now, aren't I, in the New World? And glad of it, too, though you might not know it, seeing as how I'm perpetually out of sorts." He cleared his throat. "I apologize, Teo, for my previous inhospitality. Don't suffer fools gladly and all that, especially nippers like yourself. But you're all right, you are, and that goes for Moto, too."

Moto looked up and wagged her tail.

I said, "That's good, because we need a place to spend the night."

Archibald looked taken aback, but managed a smile. "Like I said, any friend of Bim's. That door right there leads to my quarters, and ample they are, too. Take the sofa, if you please, and Moto can have my armchair. Can I get you a bite to eat first?"

"No thanks. I just need to rest."

"A good night to you, then."

Moto and I hastened to Archibald's quarters. It was 9:26 PM, 4 minutes before shutdown. I had lost track of the time and missed our chance to make it back to the lifeboat.

There was a coffee table in front of the sofa. I took off my backpack, placed it on the table, and took out Moto's remote. When she'd gotten comfortable on Archibald's armchair, I hit the power switch.

Settled into the sofa now, it's obvious that Moto and I are much safer here than we would have been in the storm drain. If we've learned one lesson today, it's that anything can happen Outside.

Entry complete.

### Chapter 10

10.20.2173.9:29PM

I booted up at 5:30 AM, unsure of what to do with myself. At home, I would have turned on the TV. I often watched baseball games or movies before school. Waking up Outside made that life seem very far away.

There was no point in hurrying back to the storm drain, just to sit around waiting in the lifeboat. Luma, Bim and Dogan wouldn't reach Blessed Savior until approximately 11 AM. Moto and I could stay where we were until 10:30 AM and still make it back in time. Archibald might kick us out before then, but he was currently in his bed, behind a curtain on the opposite side of the room, snoring loudly.

When I sat up, the problem of what to do solved itself. On the coffee table, next to my backpack, lay an enormous book. The cover read: _The New Columbia Encyclopedia._

I rested it on my lap and opened it toward the middle. The encyclopedias at Ryesong Elementary were nowhere near this size, and the entries all pertained to United North Korea. I could see that this encyclopedia covered subjects I knew nothing about. It was a reasonable assumption that Archibald had placed it there for my benefit, so I flipped back to the first page and started a scan.

Setting my comprehension level at zero, I scanned the entire 3,052 pages in 3 hours, 39 minutes, finishing at 9:09 AM.

I placed the encyclopedia back on the table, wondering how late Archibald's bar stayed open and what time he had gone to bed. He was still snoring away behind his curtain.

To pass the time, I looked up "Achilles": _In Greek mythology, foremost Greek hero of the Trojan War, son of Peleus and Thetis. Thetis attempted to make Achilles immortal by bathing him in the river Styx, but the heel by which she held him remained vulnerable, and Paris inflicted a fatal wound in that heel._

I looked up "Trojan War": _in Greek mythology, war between the Greeks and the people of Troy. The events of the final year of the war constitute the main part of the Iliad of Homer._

I looked up "Homer," then "Iliad," then "Odyssey." Each article I read contained references to subjects unfamiliar to me, and I bounced from entry to entry until Archibald went into a coughing fit. When the coughing finally subsided, he came stumbling out from behind the curtain, running his fingers through his hair and muttering, "Bloody morning!"

He stopped short when he saw me, squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again, and gave me a faint smile. "Hello, hello. You found the book, then?"

"Yes, thank you. Where did you get it?"

"It's not mine, really, not mine at all. A bloke named Gutenberg popped in last night around midnight. Comes in now and again, he does, likes to chew the fat. I mentioned I'd met a lad in desperate need of an encyclopedia. When I told him your name, he practically soiled his britches. Goes dashing out and comes back huffing and puffing with that great bloody book. Best get yourself a wheelbarrow for that one, eh?"

"Where do you suppose Gutenberg got it?"

"Bugger if I know. Talk you ear off, he will, about books and such, but ask him anything about himself and he closes up like a bloody clam."

"Any idea where he lives?"

"That's the _last_ thing he'd bloody tell me. Anyway, it isn't like we have addresses around here. He's living in a hole somewhere, like the lot of us."

"Do you know of any way I could find him?"

"Well, he left you a note." Archibald reached into his pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. "Bloody gibberish if you ask me, but here it is."

The paper had three numbers written on it: 1703, 3 and 10.

I scrolled to page 1,703 in the New Columbia Encyclopedia and read the third entry, _Liberty Bell_.

I said, "Are we anywhere near the Liberty Bell? The one with the crack in it?"

"Not too far, as it happens, but it's in two pieces now. UNK/C split it in half during the Invasion. Made a point of it. Bloody symbolism, I suppose."

"Can you tell me how to get there?"

"A map would serve better, if it's all the same."

Archibald finished sketching his map at 9:53 AM. If my guess was correct, Gutenberg was expecting us at ten.

When I pressed the power button on Moto's remote, she raised her head and looked around. I half expected her to fly off on another rescue mission, but this time she just hopped down from the armchair and stretched.

I shrugged on my backpack, saying, "Come on, Moto, we have to run." I turned to Archibald. "Thanks for everything. Can we go out the way we came in?"

"Good as any. Don't forget your book."

I opened the door. "I don't need it, I finished it already."

As we hurried across the barroom, I heard Archibald say, "Finished it, my arse!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Moto and I zigzagged east through the Ruins. I would have liked to explore a little, but there was no time for it. Our meeting with Gutenberg would have to be brief, whatever its purpose.

We didn't see another soul as we raced through the streets. LobeBots, however, were everywhere. They were easy enough to avoid, but Moto had ideas of her own. Before I could stop her, she charged straight at a PilotTron, lunging for its right heel. She got hold of it, gave it a good chomp, and the PilotTron crumpled to the ground. She was so pleased with herself, she danced around in circles, yapping.

I said, "Very amusing, Moto, but we've got places to be."

Archibald's map proved accurate. As we approached Independence Hall, I could see an elderly man waiting on the front steps, dressed in a frock coat and supporting himself with a cane. He wasn't the sort of man likely to lug a heavy encyclopedia around town, or, for that matter, outrun LobeBots.

He didn't spot us until we were quite close. When he did, though, he became animated. "Teo, Teo, Teo, I can scarcely believe my eyes! Just look at you!"

We trotted up the stairs and joined him at the top.

As Moto sniffed at his ankles, I said, "Mr. Gutenberg?"

"Yes, yes, the very same. Did you get the encyclopedia I sent?"

"I did, but I left it with Archibald."

"You scanned it, I hope."

"Yes."

"Find anything interesting?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. You invented the printing press in 1439."

Gutenberg chuckled. "I'm almost that old, there's no denying it."

"You're not the only Gutenberg in the Ruins."

"Very astute. I'm a little overcautious, as anyone in my position would be."

"You have someone who does your legwork and goes by your name."

"That would be Jasper, my eyes and ears and, to some extent, mouth."

"He recognized my name when he heard it."

"We were on the lookout for you, Teo. We knew you were in the storm drains and might surface somewhere."

"How could you have known that?"

"Rafael sent me a letter, just after you left him."

"He sent a messenger?"

"A mailman. We have a rudimentary postal service here, inspired by Ben Franklin."

I looked up "Franklin, Ben" and discovered, among other things, that Philadelphia was the nation's capitol before Washington, DC.

I said, "Did Rafael tell you I'm on my way to see Cassius?"

"The very reason I wished to see you. Aside from sheer curiosity."

"Curiosity?"

"Cassius and I are old friends, Teo. He's told me all about you."

"I don't know much about _him._ He's not in the encyclopedia."

Gutenberg gave me a mysterious smile. "Keep looking."

"He _can't_ be in there. The encyclopedia was published in 1975."

"Consider it a riddle."

"He can't possibly be that old."

"No one knows his age. No one has ever met him face-to-face."

"Including you."

Gutenberg nodded. "Including me."

"And yet you consider him an old friend."

"It stretches the definition, but yes, I most certainly do."

"If you can't meet Cassius face-to-face, how do you speak with him?"

"He appears by hologram."

I looked up "hologram": _reproduction of a three-dimensional object produced by means of light wave patterns recorded on a photographic plate or film._

I said, "Why does he do that?"

"It's crucial that he keep his whereabouts a secret. The GR would kill him if they could."

"You keep your whereabouts a secret, as well."

"Yes. I assume they're after me, too. You see, Teo, I possess the entire contents of the Philadelphia Public Library, as of 2072."

I pictured Bim's library. "How many of books is that? Ten thousand?"

Gutenberg smiled. "Closer to three million. But they're virtual books, Teo. Paperless."

"You obviously have real books, as well."

"Yes, but none from the library. UNK/C was thorough in its destruction. Most of the books still in existence, like that encyclopedia, were acquired from private homes, by Finders."

It was 10: 24 AM. I shrugged on my backpack. "I'm afraid we have to leave now. Can you tell me where the nearest manhole is?"

"There's one just around the corner. It happens to be a personal favorite of Bim's. But first I have a favor to ask. Would you please give Cassius a message for me? You must repeat it verbatim. The message is as follows: _anger cubed knows hope._ Knows is spelled k-n-o-w-s, not n-o-s-e. Have you got that?"

"Anger cubed knows hope."

"Splendid."

I took a quick look around. "I'm concerned about leaving you here alone."

"I appreciate that, Teo, but I wouldn't have lived this long if I couldn't fend for myself."

"What about all the LobeBots? There are five in the immediate vicinity."

"Perhaps you haven't heard. LobeBots hate stairs. Their circuitry has been so compromised that they tend to lose their balance. If you can lure them up or down, their pratfalls are hilarious. I suggest you try it sometime."

"You're sure you'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine. Goodbye, Teo, and good luck."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The water in the storm drain had slowed to a trickle, and we were back at Bim's ladder at 10:44 AM. Up at Ryesong Elementary, the kids were lining up to come in from recess. If all had gone well, Luma, Bim and Dogan would be nearing Blessed Savior now.

At 10:52, we heard voices from above. The manhole in the floor of the maintenance tunnel was still uncovered. When I looked up from the foot of the ladder, I could see the brick walls glowing with a familiar light. Bim had his own Glorb.

And then Luma's face appeared, peering down at me from above. When she saw me, she broke into a huge smile, crying, "Teo!"

I felt an odd sensation in my stomach again, as I'd had night before last. I could make no sense of it.

She descended the ladder so quickly I feared for her safety. As she neared the bottom, I stepped back. Skipping the last few rungs, she leapt to the ground and threw her arms around me. "I'm so happy to see you!"

I waited a moment, then gently pushed her away.

When Dogan reached the bottom of the ladder, he surveyed the storm drain in wonder, saying, "Whoa! This place is really... _big!"_

Bim came down last and walked over to me. "It's probably a good idea to close the manhole."

I went up the ladder and pulled the cover into place. When I came back down, Dogan said, "We closed the other manhole, too, but we had to leave the cinderblocks where they were."

I said, "That's okay."

Luma frowned. "But what if someone finds it? Won't they weld it shut or something? How will we get back in?"

I should have expected Luma to hit on the truth.

It seemed as good a time as any. I said, "I think you and Dogan should turn around and go back to school. It's much too dangerous Outside, I understand that now."

Luma took a step back, in shock. _"What?"_

Dogan blinked at me. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. Moto and I could have been killed any number of times yesterday."

"You can't die, you aren't even alive!"

"I mean you and Luma could have been killed, had you been with us."

Luma had her hands on her hips. "How do you know?"

"There are dangers everywhere. Alligators, pythons, robots, storms, floods, you name it."

Dogan said, "Big deal. I'm not afraid."

I looked at Luma. "I can't be sure I can protect you."

Her eyes were glittering. "Oh yeah? Well, I can't be sure I can protect _you!_ Who's been looking out for you at school all this time, punching out morons like Dogan?"

Dogan said, "Hey!" but she kept right on going.

"You've got a lot of nerve trying to send me back! I won't do it! We all have to stick together and look out for each other! That's the only way we're going to make it, and that's the way it's going to be! So get that through your thick skull!"

Dogan said, "That goes double for me!"

I looked at Bim.

He said, "There's no stopping her, Teo, and we need Dogan."

I hadn't really wanted to leave Luma behind in the first place.

I said, "All right, then, we stick together."

Luma beamed at me. "That's more like it! So what's the plan?"

"We're going to Washington, DC in a lifeboat, to see Cassius. He might be able to tell us where Dogan's father is. We have to walk west for a mile or so to get to the boat."

Bim said, "And we have to get to get there before the rains come."

"Right. Let's get going."

Given the size of the storm drain, Bim's Glorb illuminated it well, allowing us to see about 10 yards ahead. We set off for the lifeboat, walking in silence. Moto trotted by my side, staying close. Luma and Dogan tried not to let it show, but the reality of what we were doing was sinking in.

Three quarters of the way to the lifeboat, Moto began to growl. I stopped, saying, "Hush, Moto."

Luma and Dogan stopped, as well, giving me puzzled looks.

Bim said, "Uh oh..."

The sound was faint at first, a sort of scrabbling noise coming from the darkness ahead. A moment later, a small creature appeared. About two feet in length, it scuttled along, low to the ground. It stopped a few yards away, its little eyes glowing green in the light of the Glorb. It was a baby alligator.

Luma squatted down, saying, "Oh, look! It's so cute!"

I pulled her back to her feet. This particular alligator had stopped, but the scrabbling noise continued, growing louder. It was the sound of baby alligator claws scraping the floor of the storm drain. I remembered the hundreds of alligator eggs we'd found the day before.

Bim tapped my arm. "We have to get to a ladder. The closest one is back this way."

I tried not to frighten Luma and Dogan. "We should turn around now and get to a ladder. There may be more than one of them."

A second baby alligator appeared, then a third, then a fourth. These didn't stop, charging straight at us. The first one joined them.

Moto sprang, hands unfolded, and caught the tail of the closest one, which was about to bite Luma's ankle. She used it to sweep away two others that were headed for Dogan. Seven more baby alligators appeared.

We turned and ran for the ladder. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Moto grab another one by its throat and shake it violently. I might have tried to stop her, except that Dogan had chosen to make a stand. He was doing his best to stomp on the alligator's heads as they swarmed him, failing to understand that the situation was hopeless. A dozen more baby alligators had appeared, and still the scrabbling sound was growing louder.

I yelled, "Dogan!"

He called to me over his shoulder. "Run for the ladder! I'll hold them off!"

Luma stopped to look back. She screamed, "Dogan, you _idiot!_ Run!"

I gave Luma a gentle shove. _"You_ run, I'll get him!"

As I sprinted towards Dogan, I could see that Moto being overwhelmed. She was up on her hind legs with her arms raised high, an alligator tail in each hand. Two other babies had clamped onto her ankles, and the ones she was holding snapped at her as they dangled. She spun them over her head and sent them flying. Then five more piled on and she went over backwards.

I ran past Dogan and turned, ramming his stomach and throwing him over my shoulder.

He cried, "Cut it out!" but made no effort to break free. I checked on Moto. She was completely covered with baby alligators.

By now, a great number of them had streamed past us, and they were closing on Bim and Luma. There was no sign of any ladder up ahead.

I caught up with them, dropped Dogan onto his feet, scooped up Luma in my arms, and sped away.

Dogan cried, "Hey, what's the big idea?"

I called over my shoulder, "Keep running! I'll come back for you!"

By then, of course, it might be too late.

Bim would be all right. The baby alligators were racing right past him, as if he weren't there.

Luma screamed at me. "Put me down! You can't leave Dogan behind!"

"I have no choice!"

Just then, the alley cats arrived, 50 or more, pouring out of a side tunnel to the east and flying down the storm drain toward us. They stampeded between our legs, interested in one thing only: newly-hatched alligators.

I stopped running and turned, setting Luma down. We watched as the alley cats scattered in all directions, pouncing on baby alligators and tearing into their soft underbellies, too hungry to bother toying with them. Many cats were killing two or three, preparing for a feast.

Dogan came running up to us, saying, "Man oh man, I thought I was a goner!"

As cats stripped the alligators off of Moto, she jumped to her feet. Grabbing the nearest alligator by the throat, she shook it to death and tossed it aside.

I reached her just as she grabbed another one. "Moto, stop. There's no need."

She looked around and realized that the battle was over. The sound of scrabbling claws was quickly being replaced by the sound of chewing. She tossed the alligator to a nearby alley cat, who killed it and threw it onto the pile.

When we rejoined our friends, Luma bawled me out. "What's the matter, Teo, are you deaf? I told you, we all stick together, the four of us!"

I had nothing to say in my own defense. "You're right. I shouldn't have left Dogan behind."

"Not good enough!" She thrust out her hand, extending her little finger. "Pinkie swear!"

I wrapped my pinkie around hers.

She said, "Wait, you have to say it!"

I said, "I promise that the four of us will stick together, no matter what."

Luma pulled her pinkie free, sealing the pact. "That's better! Now, where's this stupid boat?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By the time we reached the lifeboat, it had already begun to rain. Raindrops were coming in through the open manhole, pattering on my head as I untied the boat from the ladder. The maroon sky was alive with flashing lights, and I could hear the rumble of thunder, even below ground.

Dogan was standing at the center of the storm drain, looking at the water trickling by. "I thought you were taking us to a _river_ or something. How are we supposed to float anywhere on _this?"_

Luma looked at him in disbelief. "Dogan, you big dummy, this is a _storm_ drain! All we have to do is wait!"

Bim appeared by my side. "We don't have long, Teo. You'd better hurry."

Moto and I carried the lifeboat to the middle of the storm drain and set it down in two inches of water. I couldn't blame Dogan for being skeptical.

Moto jumped onto the front seat, at the bow. I took the middle seat, facing backwards. Luma, Bim and Dogan lined up on the rear seat. We had just gotten settled when the first wave came. It wasn't powerful enough to move the boat, but it brought with it dead baby alligators, or what was left of them. Luma looked at the carcasses tumbling past and said, "Eeeew..."

The second wave made the boat lurch forward. The third wave came as I was getting the oars into place, and lifted us off the ground. For better or worse, we were on our way.

The water rose steadily after that, and soon it was rushing us westward at approximately 20 mph. There was nothing to do with the oars but steer, so I turned around and faced forward. We had about 4 miles to go before the storm drain would angle downward and join up with Wingohocking Creek. If the water kept rising at the same rate, we were headed for trouble.

I didn't want to alarm Luma and Dogan, so I didn't say anything. Bim, of course, was way ahead of me. The water was roaring now, so he tapped my shoulder and spoke directly into my ear.

"You should turn around and row."

I immediately did as he said.

Luma looked at me in surprise. "What's the big rush?"

I didn't reply.

By the time we reached the down ramp, our situation was becoming obvious. The lifeboat was so close to the roof that we all instinctively ducked our heads as we plunged downhill. When the tunnel leveled off, the situation seemed to improve, but I knew the creek was up ahead.

We were nearing the spot where Moto and I had battled the mother alligator. Looking over my shoulder, I could see an archway approaching. As far as I knew, this was the last one. Once the storm drain joined the creek, it became a single, gigantic pipe. I had no idea how far it ran before it reached the Delaware River.

I shouted, "Everybody get down on the floor!"

Jamming one oar deep into the water, I turned the boat sideways. This slowed us down, but we were still going close to 10 mph when we slammed into the arch, halting the boat and jolting everyone aboard.

Dogan shouted, "What the hell's the matter with you?"

I could tell by Luma's face that she understood our situation. We were so close to the ceiling now that the bow and stern had caught on either side of the arch.

I shouted, "We're in trouble! If we keep going, the water will be over our heads!"

Luma shouted back. "If we stay here, we'll drown for sure!"

Bim was speaking, his lips barely moving.

Dogan cried, "Row back the other way!"

I'd already considered this. "We'd never make it up the down ramp!"

Bim was gesturing now, turning his cupped hand upside down, then right side up, over and over.

Dogan turned to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bim was saying something but even I couldn't hear him over the roaring water.

Dogan grabbed him by the shirt collar. "Talk, you little creep! Just yell it out!"

Luma slapped Dogan's face and he let go of Bim in surprise, lifting his hand to his cheek.

She shouted, "I know what he's saying! He's saying flip the boat over!"

That was indeed what Bim was trying to say, and it was our only hope.

I shipped the oars and joined Moto up front, shouting to Luma, Bim and Dogan. "Lie down on your backs and scoot under the middle seat, point your heads toward the bow!"

Dogan started to take off his backpack. I shouted, "Leave your backpack on! You, too, Luma!"

When they were lying in place, I explained the plan. "Moto and I are going to flip the boat over! Once it's upside down, you'll be right side up, and there will be plenty of air trapped underneath! Just hang onto the seat. Put as much weight on it as possible! Moto and I will be underwater, towing the boat! Understand?"

They all nodded.

I ordered Moto to grab the line at the stern. She hopped across the seats, unfolded her hands, and picked it up, lashing it around her arm. I did the same with the line at the bow. Then I placed my hands and feet on opposite rails and began to rock the lifeboat. It took time to build up momentum, but when I finally got to the halfway point, the lower rail dipped into the rushing water and suddenly the boat was upside down.

There are no lakes or ponds in Dome Nine, and I've never been allowed to swim in the public swimming pool. Had I been, I would've promptly sunk to the bottom and stayed there. In the present situation, though, my lack of buoyancy was an advantage.

I got my footing on the floor of the storm drain, leaning into the current. It was so dark underwater that the world burst into rainbow colors. Looking up at the lifeboat, I was relieved to see Luma, Bim and Dogan hanging onto the middle seat. Their legs were kicking away in the water, glowing bright red and orange. Moto was on the storm drain floor along with me, just to the east. She was crouched on all fours, ducking the current, glowing green against a background of indigo and violet.

I hauled on the line, pulling the bow toward the center of the arch. Moto, clever girl, began pulling the stern in the opposite direction. Together, we got the lifeboat straightened out and it slipped under the archway.

Once it was through, there was no need to do any towing. The current pulled the boat westward, and we only used the lines to keep the bow pointed forward.

When the storm drain joined Wingohocking Creek, the force of the current doubled. Looking up at the pipe, I could tell it was completely filled with water. I could hear the growl of the keel dragging along the top.

We used the strength of the current to our advantage and got up some speed. A minute later, the floor dropped out from under us and daylight poured in from above. The rainbow world evaporated, replaced by florescent green murk. We had popped out of the storm drain, into the Delaware River.

My feet sank into the muck of the riverbed, which made walking more difficult, but I got the hang of it and towed the lifeboat toward land, walking backwards up the slope of the riverbank.

As soon as my head broke the surface, I heard Luma's voice, muffled by the overturned boat. She was telling off Dogan.

"Now that we're still alive, Dogan Nath, let's get one thing straight! Bim can't talk, whether you like it or not! But he just saved out lives, which is more than I can say for _you!_ So ask him yes or no questions, or have Teo translate, but keep your grubby mitts off of him! Understand?"

If Dogan answered, I didn't hear it. By then, the water was at my ankles, and I knew their feet had touched bottom.

As I lifted the bow, preparing to let them out, the strangest sensation came over me. It was as if I hadn't seen Luma, Bim and Dogan in a very long time. No, that wasn't it. It was as if I were about to see them— _truly_ see them—for the first time.

I raised the bow over my head and there they were: the Three.

Luma looked up, eyes alive with excitement. Bim looked up, too, his face radiating intelligence. Dogan didn't seem to notice me. He was scowling, fists clenched, eyes brimming with tears.

It suddenly became clear to me that Luma was exactly right. The four of us were bound together as one, and each of us would be stronger for it.

Now that there was enough light to see clearly, Luma noticed the river's odd color. "Look at this water! It's so _green!"_

Dogan looked down. "Hey, what gives?"

I said, "You should prepare yourselves. Everything Outside is the wrong color. Ready?"

They nodded.

I tipped the lifeboat sideways and the Three ducked under the edge and slogged up the riverbank onto dry land. Once they were clear, I flipped the boat right side up, and Moto and I pulled it out of the water, dragging it into the waist-high grass that lined the banks.

The rain had stopped and the maroon clouds were dispersing, but the vegetation was still in bloom. The blue trees had unfurled their limbs and breadfruit was hanging from their boughs. Although the breeze was gentle, they swayed back and forth as if in a gusting wind. Further up the riverbank, great tangles of shrubbery waved their arms, which drooped under the weight of berries. Even the grass was moving, brushing against my legs as I stood in place.

The Three had found clear ground uphill, on a wide slab of rock. When Moto and I joined them, Luma and Dogan were still agog at their surroundings.

Luma said, "It's _beautiful!_ Really, really weird, but _beautiful!"_

Dogan was staring straight up. "How can the sky be _orange?"_

Luma glanced at Dogan. "I bet Bim could tell you." She turned to me. "Teo, we want to hear Bim's explanation. Will you translate for us?"

I was kneeling down, emptying out the contents of my backpack, which had accompanied me underwater. "Not right now. There will be plenty of time to talk in the boat."

Luma might have argued the point, but she was distracted by the sight of the two shock wands on the ground. "Teo, where on earth did you get _those?"_

"That's another story for the lifeboat."

"And what is _that?"_

I had pulled out Miss Veiny's box. Judging by the weight of it, it was now filled with water. The sodden masking tape had lost its grip, exposing the ebony beneath.

I tipped it sideways and water poured out. "That's an even longer story."

Luma pressed on. "But where did you get it?"

I was about put her off again when I heard a feminine voice say, _"Your diaper needs changing. Please come with me."_

Luma heard it, too, and looked around. "What's a _Menial_ doing way out here?"

I stood up. The NanniTron was wading through the grass in our direction.

Moto let out a growl.

She was facing the river, so I said, "No, Moto, over there."

She glanced over her shoulder at the LobeBot, looking doubtful.

" _Your diaper needs changing. Please come with me."_

I said, "What are you waiting for? Go get it."

Moto obediently turned and raced toward the NanniTron, disappearing into the grass. A moment later, it crumpled to the ground.

At the same instant, I heard a piercing whistle and turned to see Bim gesturing toward the river, two fingers in his mouth.

The alligator came up from the grass and onto the stone slab, charging at Luma. She jumped back in alarm, caught her heel, and went over backwards. I scooped her up before she hit the ground and whisked her out of range, so quickly she didn't have time to protest.

By the time I got back, Dogan had clamped his arms around the alligator's snout, holding its jaws shut. It wasn't as large as the alligator I'd wrestled, but that didn't take away from Dogan's bravery.

As it thrashed its head, trying to throw him off, Dogan shouted, "Teo, help me! Flip it over! Flip it over!"

It wasn't that the alligator was too heavy. I just couldn't get a grip on its belly, which was slick with green slime. I grabbed its hind leg and lifted it overhead. All this did was extend it toward the sky. I straddled the tail and twisted it. This was more effective, but I was going to need help.

Dogan was still hanging on, being whipped side-to-side. He shouted, "Hurry up!"

I looked for Moto and found her headed for the alligator, closing fast from the opposite side. To my dismay, she was holding a shock wand in her hand, the indicator light flashing.

I shouted, "Moto, no!" but it was too late.

Moto jabbed the shock wand against the alligator's neck. Nothing happened.

Dogan shouted, _"Come on!"_ and then Luma was crouched nearby, working her shoulder under the alligator's front leg and heaving it upward. I twisted the tail in earnest.

The alligator flipped onto its back. It thrashed around for a moment, then went limp. Luma and Dogan flopped onto the ground alongside it, breathing hard. Their eyes met and they burst into laughter, giddy with relief. Something else passed between them, as well.

I said, "Everybody back in the boat."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Half an hour later, we were out at sea, enjoying a sense of peace that was too good to last.

Rafael's description had proven accurate: it was hard to say where the Delaware ended and the Atlantic began. The mouth of the river widened and widened and the waters gradually began to swell and eventually there was nothing before us but open horizon. Like the river water, the seawater appeared to be overrun with florescent green algae. I turned the lifeboat south, following the shoreline.

The clouds had vanished completely. It was as hot as the day before, but there was a steady breeze on the water and the hazy orange sunlight was surprisingly mild.

The Three sat facing me on the rear seat. Luma and Dogan emptied out their backpacks, which had gotten wet in the storm drain, and set everything in the sun to dry. Dogan had packed a baseball, a jackknife, and a slingshot, along with a small pouch filled with ball bearings for ammunition. Luma had packed a flashlight and a threadbare stuffed rabbit, her beloved Bun Bun. Bim didn't own a backpack. All he set out to dry was a single sheet of paper, folded into a square, that he'd been carrying in the back pocket of his pants.

The Three took turns drinking from the VaporFlask, and when they got hungry, they cut open a breadfruit we'd found on the riverbank. Moto curled up on the front seat and went to sleep. I found this reassuring.

Luma and Dogan were full of questions for Bim, who sat between them, and they waited patiently as I repeated his words. There was nothing he didn't know.

Apparently, the sky had turned orange after the GR shifted all its energy production to the Arctic Circle. By tapping into the oil and coal deposits there, they were able to generate enough electricity to power all the Domes in the Northern Hemisphere. The resulting pollution, however, was so noxious that they devised a way to send it out of the atmosphere, into low Earth orbit. This was a great success, aside from the fact that the pollution formed a cloak around the planet, turning the sky orange.

Luma and Dogan had questions for me as well. I told them how I ended up with the shock wands, and explained that we couldn't use them without attracting drone strikes.

I woke up Moto and repeated this to her, as well. It was dumb luck her wand had malfunctioned. It was possible they no longer worked at all, ruined by water. It was equally possible that they just needed to dry out. There was no way to know without turning them on.

Then I told them how I'd gotten the ebony box, a story they found astonishing. Even Bim was surprised and could make no guess as to its contents. We tried to open it, only to discover that it was locked. Dogan wanted to pry it apart with the jackknife, an idea I overruled. We couldn't risk destroying what was inside. I returned it to my backpack unopened.

We made our way southward at a reasonable pace. My rowing improved with each passing mile. I soon perfected a technique that kept the oars in the water close to 90% of the time, which propelled the lifeboat smoothly and steadily across the water. At the rate we were going, we would get to Washington, DC about 3 AM. I wasn't happy about arriving in the middle of the night, but there didn't seem to be any alternative. Camping onshore was out of the question.

For the most part, the coastline appeared to be deserted, barricaded by dense blue tangles of vegetation. As Bim described it, the entire stretch from Philadelphia to Washington, DC had once been congested with cities and towns and cars and people. This was difficult to believe, although in places empty shells of buildings rose up above the treetops.

From time to time, we passed breaks in the vegetation, where the remnants of roads and highways reached the shoreline, disappearing into the water. Magnifying the image, I could make out figures moving about aimlessly along the pavement: LobeBots.

About 5 PM, I rested the oars and scanned the coastline to the south. At 10X, I could see a cluster of very tall buildings, a city skyline: Baltimore, about 12 miles off.

Looking down the coast, beyond Baltimore, I spied an unusual object on the horizon, well offshore. Its basic shape was geometric, an inverted trapezoid. The distance was difficult to judge, so I couldn't be sure of its size, but it seemed quite large. It was flat and featureless except for a tall and chaotic shape near the middle, perhaps a stand of trees. I didn't know what to make of it.

We traveled south for another half hour, the Baltimore skyline growing to the point where the Three could make it out. The breaks in the vegetation became more frequent, and I noticed something odd: the LobeBots on shore were all lined up at the water's edge, staring out to sea.

A sudden gust of wind rocked the lifeboat and the waters grew choppy. Awaking with a start, Moto looked up at the sky, growling.

Bim appeared at my side. "There's a waterspout forming."

"Where?"

"To the east. Row for shore."

I began to row, putting my back into it.

Luma pointed to the sky behind me. "Teo, look at that cloud!"

Dogan followed her point. "Where did _that_ come from?"

I turned to look. The cloud had indeed appeared from nowhere, rotating wildly, maroon against the clear orange sky. The water whirling beneath it was a glossy black. We watched the waterspout form, rising to meet the descending maroon funnel cloud. It began to move straight at us, picking up speed.

Rowing hard, I outran it at first, and then it began to gain on us. Soon, it was roaring our way at almost 30 mph. I glanced over my shoulder: we were still half a mile from shore. We weren't going to make it.

Realizing this, too, Dogan shouted, "Everybody swim for it!"

Luma's voice was ferocious. _"No!_ We stick together!"

Bim spoke in my ear. "Turn the boat around! Stand up and wave your arms!"

This suggestion seemed nonsensical, but I plunged one oar into the water, spinning the lifeboat 180 degrees. Then I jumped up and waved my arms overhead.

We were close enough to shore now that I could make out the LobeBots at 2X. They were about 20 of them, lined up at the water's edge, staring out at us.

Luma and Dogan were screaming at me to keep rowing. This was perfectly understandable, but there wasn't any point in trying to calm them. All I could do now was trust in Bim.

At the last second, the waterspout veered sharply away from us, to the north, its funnel cloud pulling up from the water. The churning wake overtook us, spinning the lifeboat in circles, but we rode it out and then the waters calmed. We watched the maroon cloud fold in upon itself and disappear.

As I turned the boat south again, Luma said, "Okay, what just happened?"

I said, "I can explain some of it, but Bim will have to explain the rest."

I told them what I knew about Queen Scarlett, including the encounter at Wissahickon Park. Bim interrupted to explain Queen Scarlett's winged beast. She had used genetic engineering to construct a mythological creature, half eagle, half lion, known as a gryphon. When she discovered the beast was too large to fly, she equipped it with an exoskeleton, providing extra power to its wings.

As it happened, this discussion took place as we neared the Baltimore skyline, which allowed Bim to point out Queen Scarlett's 37-story skyscraper, a sinister, elongated castle with a sharp peak, known as the Bank of America building. The skyscrapers around it were topped by twisted girders, as though they'd been torn in half. Bim explained that Queen Scarlett, fancying her building the tallest in the land, had cut the others down to size with a string of tornados.

This brought us, at last, to the point: Queen Scarlett's ability to control the weather.

Luma looked incredulous. "Are you saying she sent that waterspout after us?"

Dogan scoffed. "Get out! That's impossible!"

I said, "I know it's difficult to believe, but it's true. Right, Bim?"

Bim nodded.

Luma frowned. "Okay, then why did she call it off?"

I looked at Bim. "That's what I'd like to know."

Bim said, "When she sent the waterspout, she didn't know who was in the boat. She was just drowning us to pass the time. When she saw Teo, that changed everything."

I repeated Bim's words.

Dogan said, "What do you mean she _saw_ him?"

"Queen Scarlett's eyes are everywhere. Whatever her LobeBots see, she sees. That's why I had Teo row toward them."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma was still frowning. "Wait a minute, wait a minute! How does Queen Scarlett know what Teo looks like? How does she even know who he _is?"_

Bim looked at me. "Do you want to tell them?"

I turned to Luma and Dogan. "Queen Scarlett is Miss Veiny. Or vice versa."

Luma furrowed her brow. Dogan clutched his forehead. Both fell silent.

Finally, Luma said, "You know, that actually makes a lot of sense..."

Dogan spoke quietly. "Yeah, it does..."

Bim said, "It saved us from drowning, but now she knows Teo is Outside. That's going to complicate things."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma turned to me. "But why? What does she want from you?"

I was deliberately vague. "I have something she needs. For the time being, I think we're safe."

Bim said, "I hate to tell you this, Teo, but we aren't safe at all. All she really needs is your skull. She called off the waterspout because it would have ended up on the ocean floor."

I didn't repeat _that._

I said, "We're going to need a place to spend the night, somewhere far from shore."

I rowed straight out to sea until the coastline vanished from sight, then turned south and headed for the trapezoid shape, now approximately 2 miles away. As we neared it, there was no longer any doubt: it was an immense ship, unlike any I'd seen. The chaotic shape in the middle seemed to be some sort of control tower.

I pulled in the oars and turned to Bim. "What do you make of that?"

"It's a ghost ship."

"A ghost ship?"

"After the Invasion, UNK/C took the older Navy vessels out to sea and set them adrift. Some were scuttled, some were used for target practice, and some are just ghost ships."

"You mean there's no one on board?"

"In theory."

Luma said, "No secrets! What are you two talking about?"

"Bim says there's nobody aboard this ship. I think we should try to dock there for the night. If we're lucky, we might find a comfortable place to sleep."

Dogan was squinting. "What kind of ship is this, anyhow? Why is it all flat?"

"I have no idea. Ask Bim."

"Hey, Bim, what about it?"

"It's an old 20th Century aircraft carrier. The deck is shaped that way because it's a runway. Jets used to take off and land there."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma looked doubtful. "Are you _sure_ it's deserted? I feel like we're barging in."

Bim said, "You don't have to worry about that Outside, Luma. Everybody's welcome wherever they go."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma gave him a look. "Oh yeah? How about Baltimore?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We approached the aircraft carrier from the east, trying to keep behind it. Far in the distance, onshore, I could see the peak of the Bank of America building, highlighted by the setting sun. If Queen Scarlett owned a telescope, my attempts to hide were a waste of time. I could only hope her aversion to water would protect us.

It wasn't until we drew up to its stern that I truly grasped the size of the carrier. The deck about 50 feet above the waterline. Due to the unusual shape of the hull, which fanned out over the water, ladders were of no use. Halfway up was a ledge of sorts, hopelessly out of reach.

There was no choice but to circle the ship. We rounded the stern, passing by a massive chain that descended into the depths. I wondered why a ghost ship would drop anchor.

The port side of the carrier had nothing to offer but a second out-of-reach ledge. We rowed around the bow, which was sleek and forbidding and impossible to climb. Another plan of mine was turning into a farce.

When we came down the starboard side, however, sheer luck rescued me again. There were three enormous portholes cut into the carrier's hull, where it would have otherwise fanned out. They were about 35 feet above us, much too high to see into, but at least the climb was straight up. Now all we needed was a ladder.

The first two portholes offered nothing of the sort, but the third was outfitted, miraculously, with a web of ropes that cascaded from the opening all the way down to the waterline. There was no point in questioning this welcome mat. Moto and I tied our lines to it and we readied ourselves for the climb.

Looking up from our tiny boat, it seemed like a very long way to the top, but no one wanted to admit their qualms. Dogan insisted on going first. Luma, voice quavering, volunteered to go second. I went third, following just below her, ready for trouble. Moto followed just below Bim.

The web turned out to be quite heavy and stable, swaying gently as we made the climb. The ropes were well worn, almost smooth to the touch. We reached the top without incident.

The porthole was oval in shape and enormous, 21 feet from bottom to top. When we stepped through it, we found ourselves facing a forest of blue trees and bushes.

Dogan scowled. "What the hell...?"

Luma was looking up at the treetops. "How can this be?"

I turned to Bim.

He said, "This is the hangar deck. It's supposed to be filled with jets, not plants."

As I repeated Bim's words, Moto headed straight into the trees, sniffing the ground. As we followed her along a winding dirt pathway, I said to Bim, "Is it possible this occurred naturally?"

"These plants will grow almost anywhere, but they do need soil."

We walked for about 100 yards, until Moto stopped short and cocked her head.

When I stood still and listened, I could hear it, too: off in the distance, someone was playing the trumpet.

I said, "Go on, Moto, follow the music."

Moto turned off the path, into the woods, leading us toward the sound. We emerged from the trees near the side of the hangar. The music seemed to be coming from an oval hatchway set into the wall. Stepping through it, we found ourselves in a room crammed with electronic gear. The music was still far away, high above us.

Bim said, "This must be the Island. If we climb that ladder, we should be able to reach the flight deck."

We passed through four different rooms on our way up, all crammed with electronics. As we climbed, the sound of the trumpet grew stronger and stronger, as did the aroma of cooking food.

When we reached the flight deck, we discovered the source of both. The ladder continued upward, but we all stepped off, into a room filled with enormous, simmering stewpots. Once crammed with gear, like the others, this room had been converted into a makeshift kitchen. Hollowed out housings for monitor screens and control panels now served as wood burning stoves.

The music was coming from outside, on the flight deck. We stepped through the hatchway and found a man standing on the runway with his back to us, trumpet pointed toward his feet.

The sun was touching the horizon now, casting long shadows over the flight deck. The sky was fading to the color of rust.

We stood and listened. The music was rhythmic and dissonant, unlike anything I'd ever heard in Dome Nine. The man, who wore only shorts, had skin the color of milk chocolate. His back was broad and powerful and crisscrossed with scars.

I had seen Negroes, such as Jackie Robinson, on TV, but very few, and had never met any. There were certainly none to be found in Dome Nine, and I'd never heard mention of Negroes in any other Domes, either. For all I knew, they no longer existed.

He ended his song with a casual flurry of notes and stood upright, letting out a long sigh. Then he froze in place, suddenly aware of our presence.

When he turned around, though, he was wearing a smile. "Don't be creeping up on me like that! Scare an old man half to death!"

His hair was white at the temples and there were touches of white in his neatly rimmed beard, but his face was unlined.

As we approached him, Luma said, "We're sorry to bother you, we were just following the music! It's really beautiful!"

"You can bother me with compliments anytime. Where you all come from?"

"We rowed here in a lifeboat."

He shook his head. "No, no, I mean where you all come from, _originally?"_

"Dome Nine."

"Which Dome Nine you talking about?"

This confused Luma. "How many Dome Nines are there...?"

I stepped in. "Dome Nine in Philadelphia. Luma doesn't know about the Baltimore Domes."

He smiled again. "Luma! Now there's a beautiful name."

Luma said, "Thank you very much. These are my friends, Teo, Bim and Dogan. What's _your_ name?"

"My name is Lewis." He knelt down and patted Moto. "And who might this be?"

"This is our iPup, Moto."

"Hey, Moto, what's happening?"

Moto wagged her tail.

Luma said, "Are you going to play some more?"

He stood up. "Uh uh. I was just warming up my chops for later. I got pots to tend to and torches to light."

"Torches?"

"Yeah, in an hour or so a lot of people gonna come up here to eat. Dining under the stars, you know? Except there ain't no stars."

I said, "Does this carrier have a name?"

"Sure she does. The _USS Abraham Lincoln."_

I looked up "Lincoln, Abraham," and read the article.

Luma said, "How many people live here?"

"Almost a thousand."

Her eyes widened. "A _thousand?"_

"You kids standing on top of a city!"

"But where did everybody come from?"

"That, young lady, is a long, _long_ story, and I got a lotta work to do."

"Do you need any help?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm too set in my ways. But you all stay and eat, and after we gonna put you up for the night. Meantime, the flight deck is good for footraces. Don't worry about going overboard, we got railings all the way around."

I turned to the Three. "Go stretch your legs, and take Moto with you. I have a couple of questions for Lewis."

They hurried off to play in the twilight, Moto trotting after them.

Lewis's face became serious. "They just kids, but not you."

"What do you mean?"

"You a _lot_ older than them."

"How did you know?"

"It's your eyes, man. Come on, walk with me."

He started off toward the Island.

I said, "You escaped from the Inland Baltimore Complex."

"Like most of us."

"Queen Scarlett gave you those scars on your back."

"Like most of us."

"She must know where you've all gone. She can see this ship from her building."

"Here's how Queen Scarlett do. She _catch_ you escaping, she torture you to death, try to make it last for days. But once you over the water, once you here, she let it go."

"She won't cross the water?"

"That's what they say."

"She's never come here?"

"Never. Not once."

Lewis entered the kitchen, placed his trumpet on its case, and picked up an apron.

I said, "Why doesn't she just destroy the carrier?"

"How she gonna do that? Her little waterspouts bounce right off."

"Doesn't she have drones or missiles or some form of GR weaponry?"

"No, no, no, you don't understand. She ain't got none of that. She gotta play by the same rules everybody do Outside. No guns, no bombs, no nothing."

"But she works for the GR, overseeing the Domes."

Lewis tied his apron. "She gets exactly one thing in return for that: electricity. See, they need her running her experiments, they know she smarter than every other scientist they got. But they ain't dumb enough to give her no weapons, 'cause soon enough she be coming after _them."_

"The GR can't be happy about your ship. Why don't _they_ destroy it?"

"'Cause we ain't no threat. Nobody is. They got nothing to worry about. They took over the world a hundred years ago and ain't nobody Outside trying to take it back. They can _have_ it, you understand? We just trying to live in peace."

Lewis turned his attention to his pots, moving down the line, adding ingredients and stirring the stews with an enormous ladle. When he finished, he took off his apron and said, "Come on, it's almost dark. I gotta start lighting torches."

I followed him up the ladder to the next level. This room had been cleared of its electronics and functioned as a storage room. The glass had been removed from the front window and a crane arm attached to the outside wall.

Using a pulley system, Lewis lowered a crate containing three-dozen torches and empty shell casings. When we got back down to the flight deck, we went about setting the torches in place, using the shell casings as holders.

When we'd finished, Lewis went into the kitchen and picked up a spare torch, igniting it over the stove. Then he returned to the flight deck and began setting the other torches ablaze. We talked as he worked.

I said, "When did you escape from the Baltimore Domes?"

"13 years ago."

"This ship has been sitting here that long?"

"Uh huh."

"Were you among the first to escape?"

"No."

"Did you escape on your own?"

"No."

"You don't want to talk about it."

"Not just me. Ain't _nobody_ want to talk about it!"

"Can you talk about this ship, then? How it ended up here?"

He shook his head. "Bitter Years, you know what I'm saying?"

I had expected this answer. I was working on a theory of my own. "If I guess correctly, are you willing to confirm it?"

He answered grudgingly. "I suppose I could do that, yeah."

"All right. The _Abraham Lincoln_ must have been docked before the Invasion began. The Navy ran out of money in 2065."

Lewis nodded.

I said, "All the jets had been moved off and the crew was gone, but the food and water were still here. Your ancestors stowed away before UNK/C towed it out to sea. That's how they survived the Great Starvation."

Lewis nodded again, looking surprised.

"That was risky, because UNK/C might have scuttled it. They didn't, though, and they didn't tow it out very far, either. I'm not sure why."

Lewis shrugged.

"But your ancestors must have stowed away _before_ the Invasion, or they never would have made it onboard. They might have even stowed away before the Crash."

That wasn't exactly a guess, but Lewis nodded anyway. I was wondering what could have motivated them when it suddenly became clear.

I said, "An aircraft carrier can weather a hurricane or a tornado like nothing else. Your ancestors lost their homes in the storms and moved in here."

Lewis stopped what he was doing and stared at me.

"But someone must have been familiar with this ship. They knew the food and water had been left behind."

Lewis pursed his lips.

"Some of your ancestors must have been stationed here, when it was still a functioning carrier."

Lewis gave me a skeptical look. "You telling me you guessed all that?"

"Well, I've been trying to work it out since we got here."

"A half hour ago."

"Yes."

Lewis narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm gonna have to think on that awhile."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When the last traces of color had faded from the sky, the Three came back from their games, into the warm glow of the torches. Moto trotted to my side and we all stood together near the kitchen. The aroma of the stewpots wafted over us.

Luma said, "That smells delicious!"

Lewis smiled. "You want, I can get you some right now."

"I can wait. But where is everybody?"

"They just waking up right now. This here is breakfast."

"Oh my gosh! You mean everyone sleeps all _day?"_

"Yeah, we night owls. Sun goes down, we come up."

"But why?"

"Nighttime is the best part of the day, much cooler, you know? Plus Queen Scarlett can't see what we doing up here on the flight deck."

Luma wasn't entirely convinced. "I guess that makes sense..."

"Something else good about night time."

"What's that?"

"It's a surprise. Go across the flight deck and look overboard."

"What is it? Just tell me!"

"Uh uh, no way. You got to go see it for yourself."

Intrigued, Luma did as he said. She had to get beyond the glare of the firelight to see the water clearly. When she did, she let out a gasp. "It's _beautiful!"_

Moto looked up and began to growl.

I looked up, too. Without a backdrop of stars, the night sky was flat black, but I thought I saw a shadow swoop overhead.

The gryphon dropped down onto the flight deck and Queen Scarlett sprang from its back, catching Luma in a headlock.

She turned to face us. "Nobody move or the girl dies!"

Moto looked up at me, still growling. I said, "Stay, Moto. Do as she says."

Dogan and Bim were staring in shock. Lewis had vanished.

Queen Scarlett dragged Luma across the flight deck, grabbing a torch along the way. Stopping beyond our reach, she held it high, illuminating our faces.

She turned to me, moving the torch closer. "Hello, android. Let's pick up where we left off, shall we?"

I said nothing.

"It's easy to save her life. All you have to do is come with me, back to Baltimore. Shut down right now and I'll release her unharmed."

Luma cried, "Don't do it!"

Queen Scarlett tightened her stranglehold, cutting off Luma's air. "Silence is golden, young lady."

Dogan balled his fists. "Let her go! She can't breathe!"

She moved the torch toward Dogan. "Well, well, if it isn't Dogan Nath. You and I have unfinished business concerning your face. If I didn't have my hands full, I'd attend to it right now."

Luma was turning blue.

Dogan stepped forward. "Do whatever you want to me! Just let her go!"

Queen Scarlett ignored him, swinging the torch toward Bim. "I see you brought the village idiot. Of what use can he possibly be?"

Bim held her gaze.

"You know, back in art class, when he wouldn't say a word, I'd fantasize about making him talk. I couldn't afford to do it then, but everything's changed now, hasn't it?"

She leaned toward Bim, bringing the torch close to his head. "I don't mean to brag, but Outside I can do anything I wish. Say something, won't you?" She moved the torch closer. "Pretty please?"

Bim kept perfectly still, staring back at her.

"No? Are you sure?" She sighed. "I guess I'll have to make do with a scream."

As the torch moved toward his hair, Bim put two fingers in his mouth and whistled—short, long, short.

The gryphon hopped to its feet and began to run, preparing for take off.

This caught Queen Scarlett completely by surprise and it rattled her. Throwing down Luma and the torch, she whirled and chased after the gryphon, believing she could catch up with it before it took to the sky. It was already halfway down the runway, pumping its wings.

As Dogan hurried to Luma's side, I said, "Come on Moto!" and we took off in pursuit.

Queen Scarlett was fast, but not fast enough. She drew alongside the gryphon as it reached the end of the runway, rising into the air. She could have made the leap to its back, had she been willing to do so over open water. Instead, she skidded to a halt at the railing, screaming after her beast, "You _imbecile!"_

Moto and I stopped about 15 feet away. I said, "Looks like you're staying here."

Queen Scarlett spun around, unaware she'd been followed. She put her fingers in her mouth and let out two long shrieks, then said, "Droogie will be back in half a minute and I'll be on my way."

I said, "Not soon enough. I'm going to make sure you never threaten Luma again."

My face was hot and I could hardly restrain myself. This time, I understood what was happening.

Queen Scarlett licked her lips. "Now, now, Teo, don't lose your head. Anger is a tricky thing. It makes bad ideas very appealing."

I turned to Moto. "Look after the Three until I get back. If I can't make it up the anchor chain, I'll have to walk to shore and find another boat."

Queen Scarlett swallowed hard. "You're going to take me overboard and drown me, is that it?"

"Outside, I can do anything I wish."

She smiled slightly. "That may be, Teo, but murder isn't as simple as it seems. It changes you in ways you don't expect and can't control. Are you sure that's what you want?"

I didn't reply, but her words were hard to dismiss.

"You've been thinking a lot about right and wrong recently, isn't that so? Oughtn't you reach some conclusions before you start killing people?"

She was obviously talking to save her own skin. At the same time, she was absolutely right.

Gesturing upward with her chin, she said, "Watch your heads."

Moto and I dove out of the way as her gryphon came in for a landing. She leapt onto its back, grabbing the reins, and said, "A parting word of advice, android! You should have killed me when you had the chance!"

She gave a whistle and the gryphon spun around and galloped the length of the runway, lifting off into the sky.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As Moto and I approached the Island, Lewis was helping Luma to her feet. "You a brave young lady. You gonna be fine."

When she saw me, Luma came running and grabbed me in a bear hug. "Oh, Teo, you're still here! I was afraid she'd taken you!"

"She went home empty handed, thanks to Bim."

Luma released me and stepped back. Lewis was approaching, his expression troubled.

He met my gaze. "I suppose you think I'm a coward, the way I turned tail and ran."

"Not at all."

"Well, I'm gonna set you straight anyway. It's like this. When I seen Queen Scarlett drop from the sky, I only had two choices: make myself scarce or kill her with my bare hands. Now, number one, if I come at her, she gonna kill Luma. Can't let that happen. Number two, I can't kill her anyhow. Under no circumstances can I kill _anybody._ Don't matter how richly they deserve it, how much better life be without 'em. Can't kill _nobody,_ simple as that. So I cut out instead. You understand?"

"You live by a code."

"You could put it that way, yeah. We all do."

"Everyone aboard the ship?"

"Everyone _Outside,_ man! That's what I'm trying to tell you! We ain't got no laws! We don't _want_ no laws! Long as everybody live in peace and do no harm, we don't _need_ no laws! You understand what I'm saying?"

I would have liked to discuss this with Lewis at length. Luma, however, had been waiting patiently for him to finish. When he did, she grabbed my arm.

"Come on, Teo, you have _got_ to see this! Dogan, you too!"

She led us across the flight deck to the spot she'd been standing when Queen Scarlett attacked. Looking over the railing, away from all the torchlight, I finally understood why she was so excited.

The ocean was shimmering with green light, as far as the eye could see. To the east, a full moon was climbing out of the water, dusky red and three times its normal size.

Bim appeared at my side. "I've always wanted to see this."

"The algae are producing this light?"

"Yes. It's unclear what purpose it serves."

"Why is the moon so large? It can't be this close to the earth."

"It's an illusion. The orbiting smog cloud magnifies it."

Luma looked peevish. "What are you two muttering about?"

Dogan said, "Yeah, no secrets."

I told them what Bim had said.

Luma turned to him. "Do the algae do this every night?"

"No, it's related to the phases of the moon. But it always happens when the moon is full."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma gazed down at the water, watching the patterns shift and swirl. "It looks like they're swimming. It must be some kind of mating dance, like fireflies."

Dogan said, "No way! Plants can't move!"

Luma gave him a withering glance. "Didn't you notice the trees? They were practically doing a jig!"

Lewis came up behind us. "Hey, kids! People be arriving any second. Come have a bite before it gets busy."

Luma jumped at the offer. "Okay, I'm starved!"

Dogan said, "Me too!"

I addressed them. "Why don't you two take Moto and go with Lewis. Bim and I will catch up with you in a minute."

When they were out of earshot, I said, "I guess Queen Scarlett isn't as scared of water as they say."

"Not necessarily. I think she made an exception in your case. She wants your TEOs very badly."

"She's lost interest in Moto's entirely."

"So it seems."

"What are the chances she'll come back tonight?"

"Slim. You defeated her because we're on the water. She won't make that mistake twice."

" _You_ defeated her, Bim. Where did you learn to whistle like that?"

"I was at the library when she came by to visit her pythons. As she was leaving, she whistled that way to her gryphon. It responds to a number of commands."

"What can we expect from her tomorrow?"

"She doesn't want to sink our boat anymore and she won't venture into Washington, DC. I don't think we have much to worry about on our way there, aside from LobeBots. But we'll have to be careful once we leave."

"Here's a question for you: who _is_ she?"

"That's a story for the boat. It's getting late and you need to find someplace to shut down for the night."

"True. Let's go talk to Lewis."

The time was 8:47 PM. At some point, I would have to find a way to change my shutdown time.

We arrived back at the Island to find Luma and Dogan seated on blankets, wolfing down bowls of stew. Moto was curled up at their feet, keeping an eye on the sky. Lewis had a bowl waiting for Bim, but didn't offer one to me.

I followed Lewis up to the storage room again and helped him load up the crate with folding tables and blankets, on top of which we added stacks and stacks of bowls and large containers filled with spoons.

As we were about to lower away, Lewis looked down and said, "Here they come."

I didn't see a soul, but there was now a large rectangular hole in the flight deck, approximately 10 feet by 20 feet.

Lewis followed my gaze. "Used to be a weapons elevator."

The elevator was making its return. I watched the passengers slowly appear, heads emerging first, then torsos, then legs, until they were level with the flight deck. Most people were dressed in robes and everybody seemed to be carrying something—baskets, books, toys—as though they planned to stay awhile.

When I looked in the opposite direction, I saw two more weapons elevators arriving, as well, fully loaded with people. Most seemed to be grouped together as families, and rather large families, at that.

I turned to Lewis. "Why are there so many children?"

"They's who we got coming out of the Domes, man. Who _wouldn't_ get their little ones outta there?"

"You find new families for them here?"

"We do our best."

"Is everyone on this ship Negro?"

He gave me a look. "Negro? _Negro?_ They still using that word in the Domes?"

"Yes. Why?"

"'Cause it went outta style 200 years ago!"

"What do you call yourselves now?"

"All men are brothers, Teo. You don't understand that, you ain't been Outside long enough. Now let's get that crate down."

By the time we'd set up the tables and laid out the bowls and spoons, it was 9:10 PM. I couldn't afford to delay any longer. I turned to Lewis. "I have to be in bed by 9:30. Should I grab a blanket and sleep on the flight deck?"

He grimaced. "You serious? I let you do that, what kinda host would I be? Go get your friends and follow me and I'll show you how the _sailors_ used to sleep!"

Lewis took us below decks and showed us to a room no bigger than a closet. It was long and narrow, with four bunk beds on each side of its center aisle. There was only enough space on the rear wall to accommodate a single locker.

Luma turned to Lewis. "You're telling me _eight_ sailors used to squeeze in here?"

"Used to be six thousand people on this boat, filled up every nook and cranny."

"Do _you_ live in a room like this?"

"No, no, no, nothing like it. They done a lotta work down below. But sometimes we let the kids stay up here. Kinda fun, if you small enough and it ain't every night."

After Lewis said goodnight, we stowed our backpacks in the locker and chose bunks. Moto decided to share one with me, curling up at my feet. The bunks were stacked so tightly that you couldn't sit up without banging your head. Luma said she felt like she was sleeping in a dresser drawer. But the sheets were cool and the pillows were soft. As soon as the Three crawled into bed, they discovered they were exhausted.

Judging by their breathing, they're all asleep now, ending the day alive and well. They could have been killed ten times over, but that doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. There's no point in dwelling on it. We're all Outside now, and there's no turning back.

Entry complete.

### Part Three: Washington, DC

### Chapter 11

10.21.2173.9:29PM

I booted up at 5:30 AM, as usual, long before the Three began to stir. It occurred to me that I should try to change this setting, as well. After devoting a few minutes to the problem, however, I was no closer to a solution.

This raised an important question: did my father program these settings through some sort of external device, like Moto's remote? In the past, this question never seemed to matter much. It mattered now.

I turned my thoughts to my encounter with Queen Scarlett. When I'd faced her last night, I was angry over what she'd done to Luma, but I wasn't in a rage, like Bannion. My motive for killing her had been rational: it would have ensured Luma's safety.

I decided to watch _The Big Heat_ again. This time, I was struck by one particular scene. Bannion has his hands wrapped around a woman's neck, his thumbs on her throat, well aware that her death will bring down the crime syndicate. He doesn't appear to be in a fury. As he applies pressure to her windpipe, he explains himself calmly and rationally. Before he can follow through, two policemen arrive, interrupting him. This leaves matters unresolved. Is Bannion's rage great enough to overpower his code? Is he capable of murder?

When I finished watching, the Three were still sound asleep, so I decided to go up to the flight deck. Dawn would be breaking soon.

The pots in the kitchen had gone cold and the torches were burning low, but the deck was crowded nonetheless. The grownups were lounging on blankets, drinking Mash and talking, while children played all around them. To the east, the horizon was turning a brownish pink.

I had just begun looking for Lewis when I almost bumped right into him. He was on his way back to the Island, carrying an armload of blankets.

When he saw me, he gave a weary smile. "Well, well, here he is, world's oldest ten-year-old. How long you been up?"

"Since 5:30. Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Come on, walk with me while I dump these blankets."

"I've been thinking about Queen Scarlett a lot."

"No doubt."

"I could have killed her last night, but I didn't."

"If you _had_ killed her, I wouldn't have shed no tears. But I'm happy for _you."_

"Why?"

Lewis tossed his blankets on a pile near the kitchen door and turned to face me. "'Cause once you start deciding who lives and who dies, you got no end of trouble. You let _everybody_ live, life be much simpler."

"It can't be as easy as that."

"No, no, no, you got it backwards, man. It's like Brother Cassius say: the righteous path is always simple, but never easy."

" _Brother_ Cassius? Do you know him?"

"Everybody know Cassius."

"I mean, have you met him?"

"Who, _me?_ I ain't that important."

"Then why do you call him Brother?"

"Just outta habit. Cassius is black, so he feels like kin, you know?"

"Black? You mean Negro?"

"Yeah."

"How do you know he's black?"

"It's just a fact, man. Cassius _look_ like a black man and _talk_ like a black man."

"But he only appears as a hologram. There's no guarantee that's how he really looks or talks. He could be _anyone."_

Lewis shrugged. "What can I tell you? I prefer to believe otherwise. You on your way to see him, am I right?"

"Yes. We're trying to find Dogan's father."

"Killed in the war?"

"That's right."

"Probably up north."

"Most likely, but we need more than that to go on."

"Then Cassius is your man. He know you all coming?"

"No, but I know of someone who can set up a meeting. Have you ever heard of the Potomac Clan?"

"Sure. Everybody call 'em the Moss People."

"Why?"

"Their whole city covered with it, man. Everywhere you look it's just green, green, green. Even the Dome is green."

"Washington, DC is Domed in?"

"Not exactly. Used to be, till the Invasion. Then UNK/C come busting through the roof and sacked the place. Tore down all the statues and monuments and memorials. Driving home a point, you know?"

"So President Savage had to relocate the capitol?"

"President _Savage?_ He relocated straight to Hell!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the very first thing they did was hang him! Top of their list!"

"But the GR calls him our Founding Father. There are pictures of him all over Dome Nine."

"Teo, you been force-fed a bucket of slop. Whatever the GR tell you, believe the opposite. Now, best go wake your friends, 'cause you got a long way to travel. By the time you get back, Morning Mush be coming off the stove."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

An hour and a half later, we were untying our lines and casting off from the _USS Abraham Lincoln._ The Three had stomachs filled with the blue porridge Lewis had served them, which they all agreed was delicious. He'd also given them a going-away present: three collapsible umbrellas, to be used as parasols.

There was no need for them yet. The sun was making its ascent into a cloudless orange sky, but the temperature was only 83 degrees and the breeze off the water was cool.

If we equaled yesterday's pace, it would take us at least 4 hours to get to Washington, DC. I spent the first 90 minutes rowing hard.

Satisfied with our progress, I eased up a little and reminded Bim he was going to tell me about Scarlett Veiny. At the sound of this, Luma and Dogan pricked up their ears.

Bim reached into his back pants pocket. "Most of what I know comes from this." He pulled out his folded piece of paper and held it up for us to see. "I got this one day in Archibald's pub. There was a Finder there who'd just returned from the west. He told me he'd gotten it from someone who'd escaped the Aspen Domes. He didn't seem to think it had much value. I'm not sure he even connected it with Queen Scarlett. In any case, we traded. I gave him my copy of Little Big Man."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma gestured at the paper. "What is it?"

"It appears to be the first page of a GR report. It's pretty self-explanatory." He offered me the paper. "Teo can read it to you, if you're interested."

I stopped rowing and took it from him, repeating his words.

Luma said, _"Interested?_ Read it, read it!"

Dogan chimed in. "Yeah, read it!"

I unfolded the paper. A typewritten report covered both sides.

Final Report, Aspen Complex Massacre.

Subject Profile:

Name: Scarlett Pierce Thorndike. Birth date: 1.22.2122. Place of birth: Dome One, Aspen, Colorado. GRID # 7712-2335-7692-8319.

Subject is eldest daughter of Carl Thorndike and Christine Pierce, co-directors, Computer Science Research Division, Aspen Complex. Parent's Level 12 GR clearance may have enabled subject to illegally access DataStream.

Subject History:

At age 5, Subject experiences severe psychological trauma. Subject's 7 month old sister, Carla, suffocates in crib. Afterward, Subject receives extensive psychiatric treatment. IQ tests show extreme high intelligence.

School reports, grades K through 8, document Subject's inability to form friendships with classmates. Parents compensate with material possessions, notably iPups and private laboratory.

School reports, grades 9 through 11, contrast Subject's academic achievements with open hostility toward classmates and teachers.

Also documented: Subject's obsession with Aspen International Science Competition. Obsession leads Subject to submit illegal and unethical competition entry, resulting in expulsion from high school and denial of further education.

This outcome believed to be Subject's motive for massacre.

Massacre Timeline:

Date: 1.22.2138. Subject's sixteenth birthday.

8:02 AM: Subject gains access to DataStream, assumes control of Dome One functions.

8:16 AM: Subject sends commuter train into Dome One rail station at 176 mph, striking stopped train, killing 142 people. Resulting impact collapses tunnels in both directions.

8:17 AM: Subject seals off elevators, escalators and stairwells, trapping victims inside.

8:17 to 8:48 AM: Peacekeepers assemble, attempt to reach victims.

8:48 to 9:00 AM: Subject releases reprogrammed iPups, walks to rail station. Over next two hours, iPups attack 38 people, killing 33, including Subject's parents.

9:00 AM: As programmed by Subject, all lights go out, including artificial sun. Subject enters rail station equipped with broadsword and night vision goggles, begins killing sightless peacekeepers.

9:00 to 9:02 AM: Peacekeepers don night vision goggles, begin fighting back.

9:02 AM: Lights come back on, blinding peacekeepers. More peacekeepers killed.

9:02 to 9:04 AM: Peacekeepers remove goggles, fight back.

9:04 AM: Lights go out, blinding peacekeepers again.

9:04 to 9:07 AM: Subject kills remaining peacekeepers. Total dead: 45.

9:07 to 9:14 AM: Lights remain off. Subject exits rail station, walks to Center Complex, enters DynaLink West Headquarters.

9:15 to 9:27AM: Lights come back on. Subject barricades President's office, takes hostages, including DynaLink West President, Toby Kim.

9:27 AM: Subject demands to speak by phone with Wu Quon, President, DynaLink International.

9:44 AM: Wu Quon cannot be reached. Subject speaks instead to Wu Peng, Junior Vice-President, DynaLink International. While Subject is engaged in conversation, assault team prepares to rescue hostages.

9:44 to 10:36 AM: Conversation continues for 52 minutes.

10:37 AM: Wu Peng ends conversation with Subject, lays out terms of agreement to Toby Kim. In return for safe passage out of Dome One, Subject agrees to release all hostages, neutralize iPups, and relinquish control of Dome One functions.

10:43 AM: Assault team ordered to stand down.

10:45 AM: Subject exits DynaLink West Headquarters, enters waiting vehicle. Subject's subsequent movements unknown.

Massacre Aftermath

From first official account onward, Subject is alleged to have died in massacre, killed by her own iPups after leaving DynaLink. To back up allegation, disfigured body is presented for public viewing. Wu Quon supports son's handling of negotiations, specifically his decision to—

I had reached the bottom of the page. I said, "That's all there is."

Luma was scowling. "She killed all those people and they just let her _go?"_

"DynaLink can do whatever it wants. Without the DataStream, the GR would be helpless."

Dogan seemed bewildered. "So DynaLink let her get away because...why?"

I said, "I'm not sure, but whatever she said to Mr. Wu on the phone convinced him to spare her life."

Luma looked shocked. "Mr. Wu? Don't tell me Wu Peng is your _boss!"_

"I'm afraid so."

"Honestly?"

"I'm serious."

"But he's so _nice!"_

"I'm not sure what to think. His decision probably saved a lot of lives. Perhaps he was trying to prevent more bloodshed."

Luma looked thoroughly unconvinced. "Maybe. But don't you think he should have locked her up? I mean, just look at her now!"

I had no reply to that.

Dogan was still confused. "And all this happened because of her science project?"

Luma sighed. "Yes, Dogan. It got her expelled and they weren't going to send her to college. Boy, was that a mistake!"

Bim said, "They didn't have any choice."

I repeated Bim's words.

Dogan said, "How bad can a science project be?"

"That's what I asked the Finder. He repeated the story he'd heard, but he couldn't vouch for it. Neither can I."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma waved her hand. "Okay, fine. Just tell us."

"All right. Supposedly, Scarlett cloned her dead sister."

This brought the story to a screeching halt. Bim had to explain cloning to me, and I had to relay the information to Luma and Dogan, who had never even heard of genetic engineering. Eventually, Bim started up again.

"So Scarlett cloned her dead sister. It's impossible to believe her parents knew anything about it. She made three copies, but she wasn't really trying to bring her sister back to life. She was only interested in the heads. She kept the bodies submerged in tanks of fluid that prevented them from developing, even though the heads grew at a normal rate. The bodies still had to function, though, otherwise the heads would die. That was the trick, and she managed to pull it off. The heads could eat and drink and breathe. Once they were old enough, they could even talk. At that point, she taught them to sing. When she presented them at the competition, they sang 'Three Blind Mice,' as a round. The crowd almost tore her apart."

I repeated all this to Luma and Dogan.

When I finished, Luma said, "That's just plain _horrible!_ No wonder they expelled her! Did she really think they were going to give her a prize for _that?"_

Bim said, "I don't think she cared about the competition at all. I think she wanted to show the GR what she could do, the more outrageous the better. And it worked."

I said, "Are you saying Mr. Wu gave her a job?"

"Why else would he let her walk away?"

"Are you sure?"

"No, but it stands to reason. His father had put him in charge of the research division. He had dozens of scientists working under him. All he had to do was add her to the payroll."

Luma was eyeing us with a sour expression. "How many times do I have to say it? No secrets!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sun was now high overhead now. The Three opened their umbrellas, taking shelter in the shade, and I went back to rowing.

In theory, we were less than 10 miles from Washington, DC, but there was little sign of it. The shoreline was still choked with tangled blue vegetation, and I could only detect one small difference: mixed in with all the blue, there were now dots of bright red. The further south we traveled, the more numerous they became.

Bim explained the geography. Even though most of Maryland was entirely submerged, Washington, DC was still quite a ways inland. He suggested we find the mouth of the Potomac River and follow it northward. This would bring us within walking distance of the city.

The mouth was so wide that it was hard to distinguish from the ocean itself, but we managed to find it. As we traveled north, though, the river gradually narrowed. Soon, it jogged to the east, and when it straightened out again, we could see a green Dome in the distance.

For a time, it seemed we might be able to row right up to it. Then we encountered a major obstacle: a highway that had once spanned the Potomac had collapsed into it, blocking it completely. We could go no further by boat.

Just to the west was a small island, covered in blue trees. This had been used as a base for one of the massive concrete supports that elevated the highway. Similar supports to the east had failed, plunging the bridge into the river.

On the nearside of the island, the trees came right up to the waterline, so we headed for the far side in search of place to land. As I rowed, Bim pointed to the remains of the highway.

"I think this road was known as the Beltway. It used to form a loop around the city."

I said, "How far from the Dome do you think we are?"

"I'd say we're only a few miles from the rim. The problem is, we don't know where the entrance is located. We might have to walk a long way to find it."

"Do you think the Potomac Clan lives inside the Dome?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Teo. I've never been here before."

The western shore of the island side was clear of trees. The blue weeds had a well-worn look, as though the shore had been used as a landing.

In the middle of the island, near the concrete support, stood a ladder of sorts, about 30 feet tall. I realized it was actually a long section of railing fastened sideways, so that the balusters functioned as rungs. Some clever person had salvaged it from the collapsed bridge. It now provided a means to get up to the Beltway.

As the lifeboat neared the landing, Moto hopped onto her seat at the bow and went into a crouch, taking the line in her teeth. When she heard the keel scrape bottom, she launched herself through the air, clearing the shallows and landing on the riverbank. Then she unfolded her hands and hauled the lifeboat in.

One at a time, the Three jumped from the bow onto dry land. I joined them onshore and took the line from Moto, pulling the boat completely out of the water and leaning it up against a fallen tree trunk.

I heard Luma say, "Look at all these flowers. They're _beautiful..."_

I turned to see her standing near the edge of the woods on a carpet of moss, Dogan at her side. Bright red flowers surrounded them. She stepped toward the nearest one for a closer look. As she knelt down, Moto began to growl.

Luma stood up abruptly, raising her hand to her face, and turned to me. Her eyes were wide open in surprise. A neat row of red needles ran in a line across her cheek, from ear to chin.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees buckled. Dogan managed to catch her as she fell. As he lowered her onto the moss, a line of red needles appeared along his neck. He slapped at them, driving them further in, and flopped down beside her.

The flowers began to close in on them from all directions.

Moto and I finally sprang into action, too late. By the time we reached Luma and Dogan, thick tendrils had already begun lashing around their wrists and ankles. I ignored this for the moment, instead plucking the needles from Luma's cheek. Moto unfolded her hands and did the same for Dogan.

The flowers around us began firing needles at our faces, too. Fortunately, they had stopped targeting Luma and Dogan. We turned our attention to the tendrils.

Fast as we were, we couldn't get ahead of them. I would unwind them from Luma's right wrist, but by the time I unwound her left wrist, her right wrist would be entangled again. Meanwhile, both her ankles were now hopelessly bound. Moto was faring just as badly.

There had to be a better way. I traced the tendrils back to their source and discovered that they were all connected to a central vine hidden beneath the moss. The flowers were connected to it, as well. These weren't individual plants launching a coordinated attack. They were all part of a larger entity.

The central vine holding Dogan began to pull him by the ankles, dragging him toward the trees. Moto plunged her hands into the moss and took hold of the vine but she couldn't stop it. It started dragging her, as well.

Then Luma's vine began dragging her in the same direction. I reached down into the moss myself and grabbed it, but I couldn't stop it either.

Moto took a new approach, trying to chew through Dogan's vine. I scooted over to Dogan and rolled him on his side. Unzipping his backpack, I fished out his jackknife, then scooted back to Luma and started trying to cut through her vine. The blade, however, was short and dull and I accomplished nothing. If anything, the vine was picking up speed. I tossed the jackknife away.

Despite her efforts, Moto hadn't managed to chew trough Dogan's vine. We were nearing the edge of the trees now.

Where was Bim? I turned to see him crouched in the lifeboat, which was now surrounded by vines, tendrils climbing up the sides. Flowers were shooting their needles harmlessly overhead, but soon he would be in the line of fire. Bim, it seemed, wasn't invisible to plants.

Behind him, in the distance, I noticed movement on the Beltway and quickly magnified my view. A young woman in a green tunic was passing by, on her way east. I started waving my arms and calling to her for help. This made my face burn.

She paused for a moment to locate the sound, then ran for the ladder. She rushed down it, jumping the last ten rungs, and sprinted toward us. She was young and her features were delicate, but she seemed an imposing presence, nonetheless. For a moment, I was certain she was Miss Green.

Without breaking stride, she removed a leather pouch from her belt and loosened the drawstring. Then she threw herself down onto the moss beside Luma, below range of the needles, and scattered white powder over the tendrils that bound Luma's ankles. Without waiting to see the result, she crawled across the moss on her elbows and did the same thing to Dogan.

The tendrils recoiled from the powder as though it burned, unwinding themselves and retreating back into the vine. This was true of the tendrils around Luma's wrists, too, even though no powder had touched them.

I scooped Luma into my arms and raced up to the ladder, placing her gently on the ground, far from any flowers. She seemed to be breathing normally. Moto came up behind us and stationed herself nearby, standing guard, her fur littered with red needles.

When I turned around, the young woman was circling the lifeboat, beyond range of the flowers, scattering handfuls of powder onto the vines surrounding it.

By the time I'd retrieved Dogan and placed him next to Luma, the vines were retreating back into the woods, red flowers drooping. The young woman hurried up the embankment toward us, Bim close behind her.

As she approached, she said, "We have to treat those wounds as quickly as possible. First of all, we need water."

I knelt down, shrugged off my backpack, and retrieved the VaporFlask.

She took it from me. "Good. Now someone has to go into the woods and get some mushrooms." She studied me as I got to my feet. "I see you're well suited to the task."

I said, "What do you mean?"

She smiled slightly. "You already look like a pincushion."

I reached up and touched my face. There were needles embedded in my cheeks and forehead and chin. I checked my neck and discovered more.

She said, "That can wait. Right now, we need mushrooms."

I wasted no time in the woods. Red flowers lurked in the shadows and vines squirmed underfoot, but every tree trunk had a cluster of delicate blue mushrooms at its base and I quickly collected a dozen. I was out of the woods and back up the embankment in under a minute.

When I got back, Bim was busy weeding out red needles from Moto's fur. The young woman had placed a small bowl on the ground and was mixing white powder and water into a paste, using a spoon. The spoon folded out from a fat jackknife that seemed to house all sorts of tools.

She took the mushrooms I gave her and crumbled them in her hands, then added some to the mixture. When it was well blended, she started daubing the blue paste carefully on Luma's face and Dogan's neck, where the needles had pierced their skin.

I said, "Are they going to be all right?"

She nodded. "It's a good thing you got the needles out right away. They won't sleep for long."

"What does that paste do?"

"The salt draws out the venom and the mushrooms prevent infection."

"That white powder is just salt?"

"Yes."

"But it seems to burn the vines."

"That's exactly what it does. She's brilliant, I'll give her that, but she's overconfident, too, and she never checks her work. Everything she does has a flaw. You just have to find it."

"Are you talking about Queen Scarlett?"

"Who else?"

"She created those vines?"

She got to her feet, giving me a look. "You're from the Domes, aren't you?"

"Right. And you have a twin sister named Emerald."

She blinked a few times. "Do you know her?"

"She's my 5th grade teacher."

"She's teaching _school?_ In the _Domes?"_

"You don't seem to know much about her."

"I'm not supposed to know _anything_ about her. I mean, where she is and what she's doing."

"Why not?"

"She got her orders straight from Cassius. No one else knew what they were."

"You belong to the Potomac Clan."

"Right."

"Your leader's name is Geff.

"Our leader? We don't have any leaders."

"Your speaker, then."

"Geff speaks for us on occasion. How did you know?"

"Emerald told me."

She frowned. "She was teaching you about the Potomac Clan?"

"No. We spoke outside of school."

"And she told you who she really was?"

"Yes. You could say she's the reason I'm here. She and Bim, that is."

I looked over at Bim. Moto was curled up in his lap, her fur clean now.

I said, "This is Bim right here."

The young woman smiled. "Hi, Bim. Is that your iPup?"

Bim shook his head.

I said, "Bim doesn't talk. Our iPup's name is Moto. She belongs to Luma and me."

She looked at Luma and Dogan, who were still lying motionless on their backs.

"This is Luma?"

"Yes, and that's Dogan. When do you think they'll wake up?"

"Dogan was hit in the neck, so he'll probably sleep longer. Luma could wake up any time now."

This was welcome news.

I said, "Thanks for your help. We're lucky you came along when you did."

"As a matter of fact, I have to get going. But why don't you keep the salt?"

"Really?"

"I can get more. Consider it a welcome gift."

"Thank you. Can you do us one more favor?"

"I'll try."

"Can you tell us where to find Geff?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? He's somewhere inside the Dome. Just ask around."

"How do we get there?"

"Head west and take the first exit onto Route 1 north. It will take you right to the rim."

"There's an entrance there?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, but I really have to run."

She turned and started up the ladder.

I said, "Wait."

She paused, looking over her shoulder.

"You never told me your name."

She smiled. "It's Esmeralda. That means Emerald in Spanish. We basically have the same name."

She turned away and hurried to the top of the ladder, vaulting the guardrail and jogging off to the east.

Bim appeared at my side. "That's quite a resemblance."

"Yes. At first glance, I though it was she."

"So Cassius sent Miss Green to find you."

"Right."

"You should pull the needles out of your face before Luma and Dogan wake up."

I started feeling around and plucking them out. As I removed the last few, Luma began to talk in her sleep.

At first, her words were quiet, but they grew louder and louder. "Mommy, where's Bun-Bun? I can't find her anywhere! Where is she? Mommy, I can't find Bun-Bun!"

Panic was rising in her voice now. "Mommy, where are you? Mommy? Mommy, I can't find you! _Mommy!"_

Luma sat up and her eyes snapped open.

I knelt down in front of her. "Luma, it's only a dream."

She looked around, disoriented, then burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing. After a time, she said, "Oh, Teo! I miss Mom!"

I didn't know what to say.

She wiped away her tears. "I'm sorry to be such a crybaby."

I helped her to her feet. "I think the needles had something to do with it. It could happen to Dogan, too. You might have to comfort him."

As though on cue, Dogan began to speak. Eyes still closed, he shouted, "Hey, batter, batter, batter, _swing!"_

He paused, then shouted again. "Hey, batter, batter, batter, batter, batter, _swing!"_

Luma gave me a look. "Should I comfort him now, or after the game?"

I took a step in Dogan's direction and she grabbed my arm. 'Wait! I want to see how long he does this!"

Bim joined us and we stood around as Dogan heckled four more batters. He showed no signs of stopping.

Finally, Bim said, "We'd better wake him before it goes into extra innings."

I repeated Bim's words and Luma burst out laughing.

She said, "Oh, all right..." and went over to Dogan and kicked his feet.

His eyes popped open and he sat up, saying, "Hey, what gives?"

Luma offered her hand. "The flowers knocked us out, remember?"

As he climbed to his feet, he said, "Oh, yeah, that's right..."

Luma touched her cheek, feeling the dried paste that covered her wounds. She turned to me. "Teo, what's this stuff on my face?"

Dogan checked himself, as well. "Yeah, I've got the same stuff on my neck."

I recounted how Esmeralda had come to our rescue, and explained her relationship to Miss Green.

When I'd finished, Luma said, "Which way did she go? I want to meet her!"

Dogan was equally excited. "Yeah, this I gotta see!"

I said, "She went east, but we can't go chasing after her. We have to get to Washington and find Geff. If we're lucky, we might be able to see Cassius today."

Dogan grew serious. "You're right. We have to get going."

Luma nodded.

I said, "Let's just make sure we have everything before we go."

While I went off to retrieve Dogan's jackknife, the Three took drinks from the VaporFlask. When I got back, I gave Dogan the knife and stashed the VaporFlask in my backpack, along with the pouch of salt.

When we got up to the Beltway, I was surprised at how wide it was. By all appearances, it was four separate highways running side-by-side, divided by barriers. I was equally surprised to find the pavement carpeted in moss. The entire Beltway was covered with it.

I turned to Bim. "What do you know about this moss?"

"I've heard Finders talk about it. It thrives on certain manmade materials, asphalt in particular."

"Did Queen Scarlett have anything to do with it?"

"It's pretty harmless. That would seem to rule her out."

"How about Cassius?"

"It doesn't have much in common with the other plant life he's engineered. It's more like the algae than anything else."

"You mean the florescent algae in the water?"

"Yes."

"Are you saying it glows?"

"So they say. I imagine we'll find out tonight."

Luma was listening with arms crossed, looking chagrined. "I got most of that. No one knows where this moss came from and it glows in the dark."

I said, "Right. And it thrives on asphalt."

"Like this roadway."

"Yes."

She frowned in thought. "That's pretty smart. There are roads everywhere you look... Hey, do you think the moss is _eating_ them?"

I looked at Bim.

"It's an excellent theory."

Dogan scowled at us. "Why are we just standing around _talking?"_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The walk to Washington, DC, was long, hot, and, in Luma's words, spooky. Total devastation surrounded us, mile after mile. Such destruction could only have been caused by catastrophic windstorms. The hollowed out buildings, flattened houses, and endless, empty roadways gave us our first sense of how much life had once existed here, and how much had been lost.

Despite the highways that stretched out in every direction, we never saw the remnants of a single car or truck. Bim explained that the GR had rounded them all up and melted them all down, reusing the metal for new construction.

We walked in silence through the heat, our footsteps muffled by the carpet of moss beneath our feet. Occasionally, the stillness was broken by a distant whine, as drones passed high overhead.

The temperature peaked at 102 degrees. Were it not for the VaporFlask and the umbrellas, the Three would have been forced to take shelter. Instead, we moved steadily northward, the green Dome looming larger and larger on the horizon.

At long last, our roadway veered to the east and angled upward, merging with an elevated superhighway coming in from the west. When we reached the top, we could see the rim at last. To my surprise, it seemed to be anchored smack in the middle of the Potomac. The superhighway, now six lanes wide, stretched out over the river for half a mile before entering the Dome through an enormous archway.

Now that our goal was in sight, we hurried toward it. As we drew closer, something didn't look quite right. Magnifying the view, I could see huge piles of debris blocking the archway. All six lanes were obstructed.

At first, I couldn't make out what sort of debris it was, with its shades of white and gray and brown. Then I began to pick out familiar shapes: a sandaled foot, the folds of a robe, a hand grasping a sword, a horse's head.

And then it all made sense. I was looking at marble and granite and bronze. Someone had barricaded the archway with hundreds of statues, tearing them from their pedestals and stacking them on their sides. The result was a gigantic junk pile of arms and legs and heads.

The archway wasn't completely blocked. On the far right, at its base, was a narrow gap that appeared to be a doorway. We were headed straight for it.

When Dogan noticed the barricade, he said, "What _is_ all that stuff? Are those _statues?"_

I said, "According to Lewis, UNK/C did it during the Invasion."

Luma considered this. "But what for? Weren't they trying to get _into_ the Dome?"

I looked at Bim.

He said, "Good point."

The Three collapsed their umbrellas and stashed them in Luma's backpack again. Then we passed through the doorway, one at a time, stepping from bright orange sunlight into deep green shadow. Moto and I paused, giving the Three time to let their eyes adjust. I dilated my own pupils and looked around.

In theory, the inside of the Dome should have been completely dark. It was plain to see, though, that it had its own source of light: the moss. The pavement within was as thickly carpeted as the pavement without, and all six lanes were gently glowing. The greenish light wasn't as bright as Glorb-light, but there was a great deal of it. I could easily make out everything at ground level. Not only that, the ceiling was covered with glowing moss, as well. The entire Dome, it seemed, existed in perpetual green twilight.

Other than moss, there wasn't much to be found in our vicinity. I went to the guardrail and looked over the edge. It was a long way down to the inside base of the rim. I saw no sign of water, which meant the base functioned as a dam, keeping the Potomac out.

The roadway before us made a steep descent from its highpoint on top of the rim. A quarter of a mile down, I could see signs of life. Seven identical white house trailers had been arranged in a semicircle on the pavement. The informal courtyard this created was home to various bits of furniture and a half dozen potted plants. A hand painted banner was draped across the road signs that spanned the highway overhead. It read: _No Man Is Good Enough to Govern Another Man._

We made our way downhill toward this outpost. As we approached, we could see a young man stretched out on a sofa in the courtyard, asleep, an open book face down in his lap. He was dressed in a faded uniform and appeared to be Korean.

Scattered around him were five armchairs, a second sofa, two coffee tables, and a large bookcase stuffed with books. The armchairs looked so inviting that the Three hurried to them and plunked themselves down. The young man opened his eyes and sat up, blinking, taking us all in.

Luma said, "I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to wake you but we just had to sit down. We've been walking a long, long time."

He yawned. "Don't worry about it, that's what they're for. You're here to see Cassius?"

I said, "We hope to."

He turned to me. "Do you need a place to stay?"

"I'm not sure. Any chance we might see Cassius today?"

He shook his head. "The woman in Trailer 3 has been waiting for over a week. Yesterday, the guy in Trailer 6 gave up and went home."

"It takes that long?"

"You never know. It depends when Cassius appears and how long he stays. One day, he might see ten people, the next day two. The next day he might not appear at all. It's impossible to predict."

"If Geff arranged a meeting for us, would that speed things up?"

He seemed slightly offended. "You mean will Geff let you cut in line? In case you haven't heard, all men are created equal. That goes for kids, too. You'll just have to wait your turn."

The Three had been following the conversation. Luma looked dejected and Dogan was scowling. Bim didn't seem the least bit surprised.

The young man smiled for the first time. "Don't take it so hard! Sooner or later, Cassius sees _everyone._ Meanwhile, there's plenty of food, and you're welcome to a trailer. Or you can go on into town and see the sights and camp wherever you want."

Luma said, "Did you say something about food...?"

He stood up. "Would you like something to eat? I'll bet you've never had fruit fry."

"What's that?"

"I think you'll like it. It only takes a few minutes to make. But first we need to pick some hazelberries." He offered his hand. "Come on, you can help me."

He pulled Luma to her feet and led her over to one of the potted plants. The pot was quite large, but the plant itself was small and wilted. A bucket of water was sitting on the ground. He picked it up and poured it into the pot.

It took about a minute for the water to soak into the soil and make its way to the roots. Then the plant came to life, doubling in size and raising its branches. Clusters of shriveled berries grew fat and succulent before our eyes. They looked like miniature Planet Earths: deep blue, with cloudlike patches of white.

The young man picked one and handed it to Luma.

When she popped it into her mouth, her eyes widened. "Wow! They're unbelievable!" She turned to Dogan. "Dogan, you deadbeat! Get over here and try these!"

Dogan pushed himself out of his armchair and joined Luma, who had a hazelberry waiting for him. He opened his mouth and she popped it in.

Watching her do this gave me a twinge of pain in my stomach. I could think of no reason why this should be so.

The young man began picking berries, dropping them into the empty bucket. Luma threw a berry in the air and caught it in her mouth. When Dogan tried the same trick, the berry bounced off his forehead. This gave Luma a bad case of the giggles, which Dogan soon caught.

I turned away, wondering where Bim was, and found him crouched by the bookcase, head cocked, scanning the titles.

The young man finished collecting berries and started for the nearest trailer. I had all sorts of questions for him, most of which were impolite to ask.

I caught up with him as he opened the door, saying, "Do you mind if I join you?"

I could tell he didn't want company, but he said, "Sure, come on in."

There wasn't much space in the trailer, but it was organized very efficiently. It was essentially an entire house compressed into one long room.

He offered me a seat at the kitchen table, which resembled a booth at a restaurant. I picked a bench and slid onto it.

There was a mixing bowl on the table, filled with some sort of batter. He added the berries to this and began stirring it with a wooden spoon.

I said, "Is this where you live?"

He nodded. "It may not be much, but it gives me what I need most."

"What's that?"

"Solitude."

"Have you lived here long?"

"Three years, seven months."

I risked pushing him too far. "Where did you live before that?"

He stopped stirring and stared into the distance, making up his mind. For a moment, I thought he was going to throw me out. Instead, he looked me in the eye. "I used to be a GR peacekeeper. But you already figured that out."

"It's pretty obvious. You're still wearing your uniform."

"I know. I make a point of it. I'm not ashamed of who I am or anything I've done."

"But no one ever asks you about it."

"No, they don't."

"Suppose I were to ask. Would you be willing to talk about it?"

He stopped stirring and crossed to the stove. He placed a frying pan on the stovetop and turned on the burner, then slid into the seat across from me.

He sighed. "To tell you the truth, I think I _need_ to talk about it. Otherwise, it will just stay in my head forever."

"All right. What's your name?"

"Everybody calls me Dean."

"You look Korean but you speak perfect English."

"My parents were both born in United North Korea, but they served in the Richmond Domes."

"Here in America?"

"Yes, Richmond, Virginia. Just down the road."

I looked up "Richmond, Virginia." Among other things, it was the Confederate capitol during the American Civil War.

I said, "How did you end up in the army?"

Dean looked surprised. "I was _born_ into the army, just like my mother and father. The Richmond Domes are packed with peacekeepers. That's where Central Command is located."

"Born into it, in what sense?"

"In every sense. Born in the army hospital, raised in the army nursery, schooled in the army schools, housed in the army barracks."

"You didn't live with your parents?"

"Of course not. Nobody does. I went straight from cradle to bunk. I never slept in a bed until I got here."

"That's why you value your solitude."

"When you spend your whole life crammed into a bunk that's crammed into a room that's crammed with hundreds of people, you think about solitude a lot."

He paused for a moment, lost in thought. Then he blinked a few times and slid out of his seat. "I think the pan's hot enough now."

He poured in some batter and the pan began to sizzle.

I said, "I've spent my whole life listening to the same GR lies over and over again."

He sat back down, nodding. "Me, too. Probably the same ones."

"Did they tell you there were millions of Goths Outside, trying to destroy the Domes?"

"That's the biggest lie of all, their justification for everything. When we were little, they made the Goths into Boogie Men. Our bedtime stories were all about the things they did to the children they caught. When we were older, they drilled us and marched us from dawn to dusk, preparing us for the day we would fight the Goths."

"But that day never came."

"Our commanding officers would tell us war stories, as though they'd fought them themselves. Sometimes, they'd put captured Goths on display, parading them around before they executed them. But no one I knew had ever been deployed to fight them."

"So where _were_ they deployed?"

He stood up. "As far as I can tell, most peacekeepers just rotate through the Arctic."

He went back to the stove and started flipping the pancakes.

I said, "What do they need peacekeepers for?"

"Guard duty, basically. Do you have any idea how many workers the GR has up there, in the farmlands and the oilfields and the power plants?"

"I know how many men from Dome Nine have been killed in action."

He set down the spatula. "Okay, multiply that by the number of Domes in the Northern Hemisphere. You'll get a figure close to a million. It takes a lot of peacekeepers to guard that many people. And for every peacekeeper working guard duty there are ten more standing by, in case all hell breaks loose."

"You mean a rebellion?"

He slid back into the booth. "The GR's worst nightmare. They're not worried about you or me, or even Cassius. There aren't enough of us down here to constitute a threat. But up there, they've got hundreds of thousands of prisoners living like slaves. If they ever managed to break free, they could take control of everything. All the food, all the oil, all the electricity for half the planet."

"Half the planet?"

"The Northern Hemisphere. They have the same operation in the Antarctic, for the Southern Hemisphere."

"Were _you_ ever deployed to the Arctic?"

"Twice. I escaped on the way back from my second tour."

"Why?"

"Let me put it this way. They can march me till my feet bleed or drill me till I drop, but I won't fire into a crowd of half-starved men who are just trying to get something to eat."

He pushed himself out of his seat and went back to the stove. Picking up the spatula, he transferred the pancakes to their plates.

I said, "It can't have been easy to escape."

He switched off the burner and sat back down at the table. "A lot of it was luck. To begin with, I was assigned guard duty at the train depot, where they make repairs. That's where I saw a disassembled bullet train. On the outside it's cylindrical, to cut down on wind resistance. But the interior is basically box-shaped, because of the floors and ceilings. I realized there was empty space below the floors, enough for someone to hide in. There was also a way into it, from underneath the train, through an access panel. The problem was, I couldn't get to it unless the train came to a complete halt inside the tunnel. Not only that, it had to happen late at night, when the officers were passed out drunk."

"How unlikely was that?"

"Well, bullet trains _do_ stop from time to time, and the officers drink themselves senseless every night. But it still required a lot of luck."

"You weren't locked in?"

"Why bother? You'd have to be crazy to make a run for it in those tunnels. They go on forever and there's nowhere to hide."

"So the train stopped and you managed to climb underneath?"

Dean nodded. "Believe it or not."

"When did they notice you were gone?"

"An hour later, the train screeched to a halt. There was a lot of commotion while they searched the cars, inside and out. I was holding the access panel in place, but they never checked it. Then the train continued on to Richmond."

"And after that, you came here."

"More or less."

I thought of Luma and Dogan. "Did you ever try to contact your parents?"

"Contact my _parents?"_

"So they'd know you were all right."

He looked at me as though I were mad. "I barely knew my parents, and my parents barely knew me! They were just good peacekeepers, that's all, doing their patriotic duty, making lots of baby peacekeepers."

I was certain now that Dean would be willing to help us.

I said, "We're trying to track down someone who was taken to the Arctic as a prisoner. How should we go about it?"

"Where in the Arctic?"

"We don't know."

"Is he working the oilfields? The farmlands?"

"We don't know."

"That isn't much to go on."

"I know. That's why we need to see Cassius."

"All I can tell you is this. Every prisoner has a serial number tattooed on his wrist. If you can find out his number, that would be a good start."

"Would Cassius be able to—"

Just then, the door flew open and Bim rushed in.

He said, "Teo, you won't believe what I just found! Come out here!" Then he turned and hurried back out the door.

Dean looked confused. "Am I going deaf?"

I stood up. "It's a long story. Thanks for talking to me."

When I came out of Dean's trailer, Luma and Dogan were up the road, playing fetch with Moto. Bim was standing by the bookcase, holding a copy of _Feats of Clay._

As I approached him, I said, "Why the fuss? Is there something different about that one?"

"No, same lousy book. But I'm glad I leafed through it. Look what was tucked inside."

Bim handed me a neatly folded piece of paper, glossy to the touch and in fair condition. I carefully unfolded it and checked the lower corner. It was a page from _TimeLifeLookPeopleUs_ magazine, dated June 2nd, 2065.

I looked up at Bim. "Have you read this?"

Bim shook his head. "The moment I realized what it was, I ran to get you."

"I knew this interview existed, but I never dreamed I'd find it."

"You knew about it?"

"Yes. I found an article about my father in the _New York Times."_

Dean emerged from his trailer carrying plates, and called to the Three. Luma and Dogan left Moto holding the baseball in her mouth and hurried downhill to the courtyard. Dean set the plates on one of the coffee tables. The pancakes were now covered in blue syrup. I told Bim to go try the fruit fry and sat down in an armchair, still marveling at my luck.

It only took a few seconds to scan in the article. It was short and disturbing.

Joseph Clay, the so-call father of modern android technology, and foremost apologist for disgraced ex-President Timberlake, dropped in last month for a chat. He sat down with Celebrity Investigations Bureau Chief, Ty Manta, believing we actually wanted to talk about climate change!

In classic TLLPU style, Ty turned the tables on the seemingly grief-stricken "doctor." On the strength of our investigation, police reversed their accidental death ruling and reopened the case as a homicide. Gotcha, "Dr." Clay!

_TimeLifeLookPeopleUs:_ Tell us about the death of your wife and daughter.

_Joseph Clay:_ Wasn't this supposed, uh... Don't you want to discuss global warming?

_TLLPU:_ We should discuss this instead. You don't want people to think you're hiding something, do you?

_J.C.:_ Hiding something? No, I think...it's just...this is a difficult time for me. They only died last month.

_TLLPU:_ Under suspicious circumstances.

_J.C.:_ The circumstances... They were just, uh, normal circumstances. We were out sailing, we've done that before...

_TLLPU:_ The police tell us the investigation is ongoing. Is it possible they suspect foul play?

_J.C.:_ Foul play?

_TLLPU:_ How do _you_ explain their deaths?

_J.C.:_ We were sailing, and, uh, the boat capsized and...they just drowned. I couldn't save them...

_TLLPU:_ But you managed to save yourself.

_J.C.:_ I can't swim, I never learned to swim. I was wearing a lifejacket. Lena was a good swimmer, she swam in college. Jules was only two. When Jules went under, Lena went down after her. They never came up...

_TLLPU:_ You've publicly supported ex-President Timberlake in the past.

_J.C.:_ That's true.

_TLLPU:_ Don't you find it ironic that you're embroiled in your own scandal now?

_J.C.:_ You can't, uh... I don't really see how you can call it a scandal.

_TLLPU:_ Don't you think it's strange that their bodies haven't been found?

_J.C.:_ I don't know. Not really.

_TLLPU:_ Experts say the bodies should have floated to the surface by now and washed up somewhere. Unless they were weighted down.

_J.C.:_ What are you saying?

_TLLPU:_ How much was your wife insured for?

_J.C.:_ What? I don't... You mean _life_ insurance?

_TLLPU:_ Yes. How much?

_J.C.:_ Why...nothing. Not a penny. Wait a minute, hold on! Are you trying to suggest I killed her? For money?"

_TLLPU:_ Did you?

_J.C.:_ I would never do such a thing! I would never harm a hair on her head! I loved her!

_TLLPU:_ Okay, okay, calm down! We were just kidding. We know she wasn't insured.

_J.C.:_ You do? Oh... All right, then. You have an offbeat sense of humor...

_TLLPU:_ How much was your daughter insured for?

_J.C.:_ Pardon?

_TLLPU:_ We understand you recently took out a life insurance policy on Jules, for five million dollars. True or false?

_J.C.:_ _(stands up)_ That's it! Not another word!

I sat for a time just staring at the page, wishing Bim hadn't found it. Not only had my father collaborated with UNK/C, now it seemed he'd murdered his wife and daughter.

Strange to say, that wasn't the worst part. Emerald had called Joseph Clay one of the great minds of the 21st Century, but I could see no evidence of that. Quite the opposite. Here was my father, bumbling his way through the interview, oblivious to the trap being set for him. I slipped the paper back into _Feats of Clay_ and returned it to the bookcase.

The Three had gobbled up their fruit fry and were begging for more, so Dean offered to teach them how to make it. They all picked more hazelberries and disappeared into his trailer.

That was fine with me. There seemed no point in rushing into the city. I decided to take advantage of this lull in activity.

I thought back on my meeting in the Ruins with Gutenberg. He'd left me with a message for Cassius, and also a clue to his identity: when I'd told him that Cassius wasn't in the encyclopedia, he'd said, "Keep looking."

I hadn't meant I'd found nothing at all. There was indeed an entry under "Cassius," but it listed historical figures from ancient Rome, none of whom had any discernable connection to the present-day Cassius. What I _hadn't_ done was search the entire encyclopedia, looking for the name Cassius within each article.

There wasn't enough time for that now. Even with my audio-visual functions closed out, it would take at least 2 hours to search all 3052 pages.

But I could start searching the encyclopedia letter-by-letter. It would only take me 7 minutes to search all the entries listed under the letter A.

I stretched out on the second sofa, closed my eyes, and started the search. When I opened my eyes again, only 2 minutes 19 seconds had elapsed. The name Cassius appeared in an article on page 67.

The entry, under "Ali, Muhammad," was brief:

American boxer. Originally named Cassius Marcellus Clay, Jr., he changed his name in 1964 on becoming a Black Muslim. After winning an Olympic gold medal in 1960, he turned professional. In 1964, he defeated Sonny Liston, winning the world heavyweight championship. In 1967, however, various state and foreign boxing commissions stripped him of the title when he refused induction to the armed services on religious grounds. In 1974, Ali regained the championship by defeating George Foreman in a fight held in Zaire.

It wasn't much, but it was a big improvement over the Romans. At least this Cassius had lived within the last 200 years. Furthermore, the entry under _Black Muslim_ confirmed that he was Negro. And the fact that he'd refused to join the army suggested he might have been a man of peace, like the present-day Cassius. On the other hand, how peaceful could a professional boxer be?

Then, of course, there was his last name. I didn't want to make too much of this, as Clay was a common enough name. There were a handful of Clays in Dome Nine alone.

I wondered how many Clays were listed in the encyclopedia. I found four: Henry Clay, Clement Claiborne Clay, Lucius DuBignon Clay, and, most surprising of all, Cassius Marcellus Clay.

At first, I assumed this was Muhammad Ali's father, but that was quickly disproved. Cassius Marcellus Clay turned out to be some sort of politician and newspaper publisher who'd lived in the 1800's. The article didn't mention his race, but it seemed unlikely he was Negro.

I could go no further. Judging, however, by the laughter coming from Dean's trailer, I still had plenty of time to myself. I turned my attention to Gutenberg's message: _anger cubed knows hope._ This was clearly an anagram, one I needed to unscramble before meeting Cassius.

It was only 19 letters long. To increase calculation speed, I closed out my visual functions.

The vast majority of combinations produced no words at all. Every so often, sets of complete words appeared, all of them meaningless. A few combinations produced sentences that made some sense, but not enough. In my first 12 minutes, I came across any number of these, such as _group chews naked bone, we see drunk bongo chap,_ and _when nude go bake crops._

Just as I hit upon a sentence that made perfect sense, Luma called my name. I halted the search and rebooted my visual functions. When I opened my eyes, she was hopping up and down with excitement.

"Teo, wake up! Get up! Cassius wants to see us right away! Geff sent a carriage to pick us up!"

I sat up. "What sort of carriage?"

"Don't ask me! I've never seen anything like it! And the horse is pink!"

I stood up and turned around. Down the road, just beyond the trailers, stood the carriage in question.

It looked more like the skeleton of a vehicle than a vehicle itself, just a low-slung platform supported by four widely spaced wheels. The wheels were covered with fenders, making the rest of the carriage look even more incomplete. In the center, two seats jutted up, simple frames covered in webbing. Anchored in front, like a bizarre hood ornament, was a stack of electronic equipment topped with an inverted silver umbrella.

The horse it was hitched to was bright pink and metallic, a robot of some sort. The driver, tall and thin, was still in the saddle, talking with Dean. Bim and Dogan were busy examining the carriage. Moto had already hopped aboard and curled up under the seats.

As Luma and I approached, Dean turned and started back toward his trailer. As he passed us, he said, "Looks like you're cutting in line after all."

This time, he seemed more than slightly offended.

The driver was wearing a faded cap with the words "DC Cab" printed above the visor. He looked at me and said, "Teo?"

"That's right."

"Name's Humphrey. Finest cabby in town. Only cabby in town. Hop in."

As the three climbed up ahead of me, I said, "That's an unusual horse."

"Only one in the Dome. Over 100 years old."

"Where did you get it?"

"Her."

"Where did you get her?"

"Originally President Savage's. Bought it for his daughter, custom made in China. Cost the taxpayers two million."

The Three were lining up on the two seats, Bim in the middle.

I said, "And where did you get this buggy?"

"Air and Space Museum."

"What was it used for?"

"Driving around the moon. Light as a feather, really takes a beating. But enough chatter. Geff needs you pronto."

There was no place for me to sit, so I went around and hopped on the back and rode standing up, gripping the seatbacks for support.

Humphrey took us downhill at an alarming speed, but the moon buggy hugged the road and we soon realized the ride wasn't as dangerous as it seemed. The glowing highways twisted and merged and split, passing over and under and through each other, but Humphrey and his steed never wavered. We passed a body of water, a domed monument, and blocks and blocks of low granite buildings, then took a harrowing left turn and skirted along the edge of a park.

Through the trees, I caught glimpses of a towering obelisk with a gigantic marble head impaled on its tip. It reminded me of the python heads in Wissahickon Park.

Humphrey veered down a side street, cutting over to a roadway that circled an imposing structure made of marble and cinderblock. We pulled up to the curb, in front of the entrance. This was marked by three more identical house trailers and another assortment of mismatched furniture.

I assumed Geff would be waiting for us, but the armchairs and sofas were all vacant. The only person I could see was off to one side, slumped in a wheelchair. Behind him stood a Menial, wearing a type of uniform I'd never seen before.

Humphrey said, "Lincoln Memorial! Everybody off!"

I looked up "Lincoln Memorial." Apparently, the interior of the monument contained a statue of Abraham Lincoln. This was blocked from our sight by cinderblock walls constructed between the columns.

As soon as our feet hit the ground, Humphrey made a U-turn and sped off, leaving us standing at the curb. No one was quite sure what to do next, except for Moto, who trotted over to the nearest armchair, hopped onto it, and curled up.

The Menial looked at me and said, _"Teo, I presume."_

I walked over to where he stood. "Yes. I think Geff is supposed to meet us here."

" _That's me."_

I didn't know quite what to say. "I wasn't expecting an android."

" _No, no, not him. I'm the one in the wheelchair."_

Geff hadn't moved a muscle, but I could see now that his eyes were staring straight at me.

I said, "You're speaking through your Menial."

" _Correct. I don't suppose you've seen MediTrons in Dome Nine."_

"Never."

" _Or cripples."_

"No."

" _I'm very lucky to have Daniel, here. Otherwise, I'd just be a glorified doorstop. Say hello, Daniel."_

Geff relinquished control. Daniel said, _"Good afternoon, Teo."_

"Hello, Daniel. These are my friends, Luma, Bim and Dogan. And this is our iPup, Moto."

" _I'm very pleased to meet you."_

Geff resumed control. _"Geff again. That goes for me, too. Okay, Cassius wants to see you right away."_

"All of us together?"

" _No, one at a time. Teo first."_

I studied the front of the monument. The only way in seemed to be a crude opening in one of the cinderblock walls. It looked as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

I turned to Geff. "Where will I find Cassius?"

" _You can't miss him."_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I wasn't prepared for the scale of the inner chamber or the statue it housed. Immense marble columns supported the ceiling, which was so high that the Glorblight scarcely touched it. President Lincoln was seated against the far wall, his armchair resting on an enormous pedestal. I approached the statue cautiously, feeling smaller with every step. He could have scooped me up in the palm of his hand.

Lincoln was dressed in a long overcoat and seemed to be wearing some sort of frilly scarf. Above that was nothing at all. His head had been lopped off cleanly at the neck.

I reached the foot of the statue and stopped. There was no sign of Cassius, hologram or otherwise.

And then a head faded into view, hovering above Lincoln's neck, perfectly in scale. The face was undoubtedly Negro, as Lewis had claimed. It was solemn and moon-shaped, and its eyes were alive with a fierce intelligence. Its brown skin contrasted sharply with the white marble around it.

Cassius gazed down at me and his face lit up in a smile. His voice had a gentle rasp to it. **"Hello, Teo. How wonderful to see you, at long last."**

"You were expecting us."

" **Yes."**

"How did you know we were coming?"

" **I've heard how inquisitive you are, Teo, but our time is short. I can only tell you what you need to know. Be quiet and listen."**

I waited.

" **Dogan's father is in Baltimore, in the dungeons of the Bank of America building. The GR shipped him there from the Arctic, to be used in Queen Scarlett's experiments. Geff has a map for you. There are many routes to Baltimore, but it makes little difference which you choose. Scarlett will know you're coming and she will bring the fight to you. Never let down your guard for an instant. Do you understand?"**

"Yes."

" **Now, Teo, remember this, above all else. It's necessary to find Dogan's father, but your true purpose—the purpose for which you were created—is entirely different. I will reveal more upon your return. Goodbye, Teo, and good luck."**

I turned to go.

" **One last thing."**

I turned back.

" **Gutenberg gave you a message for me. What was it?"**

"Anger cubed needs hope."

" **Anger cubed needs hope. Thank you. Please send Dogan in."**

The Three watched me make my way back down the long staircase, waiting expectantly.

As I drew near, Luma said, "Well, what did he say? Does he know where Dogan's father is?"

"I'm sorry, Luma. I think we should wait until everyone's gone in before we talk."

Dogan looked anxious. "Okay, but does he know?"

"You'll find out soon enough. He wants to see you next."

"Me? Why me? Why can't Luma go next?"

"He asked for you. What's the problem?"

"It looks dark in there. Is it pretty dark? I mean, inside?"

Luma said, "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark!"

"I'm not _afraid_ of the dark, I just don't _like_ it very much. At all."

I said, "There are Glorbs in there, Dogan. You'll be fine. Go on, Cassius is waiting."

Dogan started reluctantly up the steps.

Luma turned to me. "Can't you at least tell me what Cassius looks like?"

It wasn't an easy question to answer. I had to explain both holograms and Abraham Lincoln.

When I'd finished, Luma said. "So he's not even a real person? He's just this talking head on a broken statue?"

"More or less."

"That's just really, really weird, even for out here."

"I can't argue with that, but he seemed very real to me, in spite of it."

Dogan was making his way down the steps, looking dazed.

He walked up to Luma. "You're next."

She couldn't contain herself. "Did he tell you where your father is?"

Dogan grimaced. "He told me not to say anything."

He wandered over to an armchair and dropped into it.

Luma gave a shrug, then hurried away, up the staircase.

I turned to Bim. "Does Cassius usually swear people to secrecy?"

"There are other cases I know of. He certainly did with Miss Green."

"I can understand the reasons for that. But why Dogan?"

"There's not much point in guessing at his motives, Teo. Cassius dispenses information, not explanations. There's no way to know what he's thinking."

"He said he could only tell me what I needed to know."

"That's what he says to everyone. You can't second-guess him. If he doesn't want certain people comparing notes, you have to assume he has good reason."

"You have to take it on faith."

"Basically."

"And everyone really trusts him that much?"

"Teo, this is the man who provides everyone Outside with food and water and medicine and asks nothing in return."

"How could one man possibly do all that? _Who_ is he? _Where_ is he?"

"That's what the GR would dearly like to know. They can't even take down his hologram, let alone find him. The encryption is too sophisticated."

"So they've given up?"

"They'll never give up. They don't really care that he's keeping everyone alive. What haunts them is the possibility that he might be one of their own."

"You mean someone working within the GR?"

Bim nodded. "It's the only theory that really makes sense. Whoever Cassius is, he has tremendous resources at his disposal, and complete access to the DataStream. He's able to pilfer scientific and medical equipment directly from the rail lines. And he's been doing it for a long, long time."

"How long?"

"He first appeared during the Great Starvation."

"100 years ago? Then he can't even be a single individual."

"That's right. The original Cassius must have found a successor to carry on his work after his death."

Just then, Luma reappeared. She descended the steps slowly, scowling. As she approached, I said, "Are you all right?"

She walked right past us. "I'm not allowed to talk about it."

There was an armchair next to Dogan's. She plunked herself into it.

Bim said, "I guess it's my turn."

Throughout our comings and goings, Geff and Daniel had stayed in place, off to the side, waiting. I went over to speak with Geff, only to discover his eyes closed.

I spoke softly to Daniel. "Is Geff asleep?"

" _Yes. He naps throughout the day. He's in constant pain."_

"Cassius said he had something for us."

" _Yes, a map. It's right here."_

There was a bag hanging from the back of the wheelchair. Daniel reached in and withdrew a roll of paper. He handed it to me, saying, _"Here you are."_

"Thank you. May I ask you a question?"

" _If you wish."_

"I hope it won't offend you."

" _That isn't possible."_

"You look like a Menial but you don't speak like one, and you're obviously much smarter. Why is that?"

" _MediTrons are not Menials. Our job requires greater intelligence. Our tasks can be complex and mistakes are unacceptable."_

"You must have very advanced circuitry."

" _All MediTrons were designed and built by Joseph Clay."_

At the sound of this, my thoughts flew off in all directions. Before I could come up with a response, Bim appeared at my side.

He said, "We should have our talk now."

Bim and I sat down on a sofa opposite Luma and Dogan, who were still looking glum.

I said, "I know Cassius told you not to repeat anything, but I think we can compare notes without breaking any promises. Just nod if I'm right, okay? He told everyone Dogan's father is in Baltimore, in the dungeons of the Bank of America building. Right?"

The Three nodded.

"He expects me to go rescue him somehow. Does he expect all of you to come with me?"

They nodded again.

"Is everyone willing to go?"

This time they hesitated, exchanging glances. Then they nodded once more.

"All right, then. Bim, how far is it to Baltimore?"

"About forty miles."

"So basically we'd need a day to get there on foot."

"It would actually be faster to walk back to the lifeboat and travel by water."

"What if the lifeboat's gone?"

"That seems very unlikely. How many people—"

Luma broke in. "I hate to interrupt all the muttering but why don't we just ask Humphrey for a ride?"

I looked at Bim.

He said, "That's a very good idea."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma brightened a little. "Thanks. Now all we have to do is find him."

I said, "We'd better start looking. If he can't take us, we'll have to find another way to get there."

Luma said, "I bet Geff knows where to find him."

I looked over at Geff and saw that his eyes were open again. I got up and went to talk to him.

As I approached, he said, _"Has everyone been in to see Cassius?"_

"Yes."

" _What are you going to do now?"_

"We need to find Humphrey, actually. Do you happen to know where he is?"

" _I have an educated guess. Why don't Daniel and I walk you down to the White House? If he isn't there now, he'll be there soon."_

"How do you know?"

" _Because it's Saturday. Tonight's the dance, and Humphrey will be hauling in food from the Fruitlands."_

"The Fruitlands?"

" _The place where we grow all our food. It's the only spot in DC that gets any rain. You can see it from here if you look carefully."_

Foolishly, I waited for Geff to raise his arm and point.

" _Teo, Daniel does all my pointing..."_

Daniel was pointing to the roof of the Dome, far in the distance, to a spot where daylight was streaming in.

" _That's where UNK/C cut through. A nice, tidy circle about a quarter mile in diameter."_

"During the Invasion?"

" _The very first day. Sort of a cosmic punch line to the Savage administration."_

"What do you mean?"

" _You've never heard the tale of Trip's Last Stand?'"_

"No."

" _Then you can hear it en route."_

"Great. Just let me tell my friends."

As I turned to go, a boy of about twelve, with dark brown skin, came hurrying up to Geff. Boys and girls of all sizes and colors were following behind him.

The boy gave Geff a friendly punch in the arm. "Hey, Geff, what's happening?"

" _Just vegging out. I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. Simon, Teo. Teo, Simon."_

Simon said hi and introduced the rest of the kids as they gathered around. I gave a little wave and they waved back.

Geff said, _"How goes the great hunt?"_

Simon said, "We were doing fine but now we're stuck. Is Della in her trailer?"

" _No such luck. She shoved off this morning for Gettysburg."_

"Do you think she'd mind if we went in and looked around? She always helps us out."

" _What are you looking for, exactly?"_

Simon glanced at the paper in his hand. "We need an umbrella and a flashlight."

" _She always takes her umbrella and the flashlight's hopeless. If I were you, I wouldn't risk getting on her bad side."_

Simon nodded in agreement, disappointed.

I said, "Maybe my friends can help you out. Dogan has an umbrella and Luma has a flashlight."

Simon's eyes widened. "Really? You're serious?"

"Yes. What do you need them for?"

He looked surprised. "For the scavenger hunt."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that is."

"It's a game. We play it every Saturday. The first team to collect everything on the list wins."

"I see."

"If your friends help us out, we'll be first for sure."

"If they help, will you let them join your team?"

"Of course!"

The Three were looking in our direction. I pointed them out by name. "That's Luma, that's Dogan, and that's Bim. Bim can't talk, but he's very smart. Please don't make fun of him."

Simon looked shocked. "Make _fun_ of him? Why would we do that?"

He seemed completely sincere.

I said, "Is there somewhere we can meet up later on?"

"Sure, at the White House. There's a cookout after the hunt and then we're all going to the dance."

Simon and his friends went over to the Three and introduced themselves and soon they were all chatting away. When Simon noticed Moto, his friends all wanted to play with her. Before long the whole gang headed east, Moto running in circles around them.

While this was happening, Daniel was feeding Geff. With great care, he worked Geff's mouth open, then poured liquid into it from a flask, little by little, waiting for Geff to swallow reflexively. He seemed to sense when Geff had had his fill. He capped the flask and wiped Geff's mouth and worked it closed again.

Geff said, _"And now you know the awful truth! I'm a Mash-Head!"_

"From what I've seen, you're not alone."

" _The stuff works miracles, actually. Without it, I would've called it quits a long time ago."_

"Were you born like this?"

" _Hell, no! I was perfectly normal until age 36. Then I started losing control_ _of my muscles. Now I'm completely paralyzed, except for my eyes._ _But enough about me. Let's get going."_

Daniel turned Geff's wheelchair around and started across a wide expanse of blue weeds that must have once been a grassy park. I walked alongside them.

The memory was so sudden it stopped me in my tracks. I had been here before. I had stood in this exact same spot before, gazing at this exact same view. The sky had been a vivid blue, the grass a vivid green.

The entire layout of the National Mall and its surroundings unfolded in my mind, like a map.

Daniel was looking over his shoulder, waiting for me.

Geff said, _"Am I going too fast for you?"_

I caught up with them. "Sorry, I was distracted for a moment."

" _You still want to hear how Trip Savage met his end?"_

"Please."

We resumed our walk. I could see the Reflecting Pool just up ahead. In my father's memory, its placid waters mirrored the sky. It was empty now, and the moss had claimed it.

Geff said, _"Okay. President Savage spewed a lot of hate but he wasn't stupid. When the Great Crash came, he knew a full-scale attack would follow. UNK/C was breaking every promise they'd ever made to him. So he basically abandoned his country and set about turning this Dome into a bunker._

" _The grid went down right away, which blacked out all the lights in here, including the artificial sun. This had never happened before and everyone had the same reaction: get the hell out. The roads began to fill with cars._

" _But Trip was already sealing the archways one by one. He knew the emergency power wouldn't last and he needed electricity to close the storm doors._

" _Word got out and some unknown hero at the last archway trashed the hydraulics, preventing the doors from closing. The traffic jam lasted for three days but eventually everyone made it out, including every single member of Congress. The only people left behind were the ones who couldn't afford to leave._

" _So, not counting the poor folks, it was just Trip and his Washington Militia. First, he ordered them to break loose every statue they could find and barricade the open archway. Then he ordered them to surround the Dome._

" _Trip didn't have that many men but he had all kinds of weapons, huge stores of ammunition, and plenty of time to get ready. His militiamen were armed to the teeth and covered in body armor. The sealed archways were heavily guarded, from the outside. There were militiamen all over the roof of the Dome, ready to shoot down helicopters and planes._

" _But the joke was on Trip. His forces never saw a single UNK/C peacekeeper or fired a single weapon. Instead, the sky turned purple and a dozen tornados came at them from every direction, flattening everything around the Dome and sweeping it clean of militiaman. That was the day Trip found out that UNK/C could control the weather._

" _There was always Plan B of course. When the tornados hit, Trip hightailed it down to his bunker, the one built for nuclear war. That's where he spent his final hours, probably feeling pretty safe._

" _The next morning UNK/C dropped a team of peacekeepers onto the roof of the Dome, where they cut their circle. Then another team flew in by helicopter and landed on the White House lawn. From there they headed straight down to the bunker. Its location was top secret, like the pass codes, but they just waltzed right in and grabbed him. Someone with very high clearance must have sold him out. They promptly hanged him from the White House balcony and left his body dangling._

" _While this was happening, more helicopters flew in and destroyed every library in the city, from the Library of Congress on down. They didn't miss a single one. Then the helicopters flew out through the hole and vanished into the sky. UNK/C never set foot in the Dome again."_

"They just abandoned it?"

" _Yes."_

"How many other Domes did they abandon?"

" _None. Just Washington."_

"But why?"

" _UNK/C never wanted to build it in the first place. Trip demanded it."_

"And they gave in?"

" _Not exactly. He had to pay for it himself."_

"How did he manage that?"

" _He gave them Las Vegas. After the Invasion, it became the new American capitol."_

I looked up "Las Vegas" and read the article. Apparently, the city was packed with casinos, nightclubs and hotels.

I said, "What happened to all the government workers in Washington? UNK/C must have needed them. Did they move them all to Nevada?"

" _Too impractical. They just rounded them up and sent them down to Richmond and set up a provisional government there."_

"Is that where Joseph Clay ended up?"

" _I don't know."_

"Do you mind if we ask Daniel?"

" _Go ahead. Daniel, hold up for a minute."_

Daniel brought the wheelchair to a halt.

I turned to him. "Do you know where Joseph Clay worked?"

" _I believe it was Richmond, Virginia. That's where I was constructed."_

"Do you have any memories of Joseph Clay?"

" _No. I remember nothing about the construction process."_

"Then what are your earliest memories?"

" _Working in United North Korea, in Kim Jong-pil's palace."_

"Really? Were you caring for him?"

" _No. I was caring for his youngest son. I was constructed specifically for that purpose."_

"Was he ill?"

" _His condition was similar to Geff's. I'm sorry, but I'm not supposed to speak of it."_

Geff resumed control. _"Geff here. Does that answer your question?"_

"For the time being."

Our walk had taken us past the Reflecting Pool and across 17th Street. We were now stopped near the base of the Washington Monument. As I'd suspected, the head impaled on its tip was Abraham Lincoln's.

I pointed to it. "Why did UNK/C do that to Lincoln's head?"

" _UNK/C? No, no, Trip did that."_

"Why would he do such a thing?"

" _According to the story, after he was elected to a third term he started closing all the presidential monuments and walling them off. Since he couldn't wall off the Washington Monument, he impaled Lincoln's head on top."_

"But that's just insane."

" _On some level Trip was always out of his mind. Up until then he'd just managed to keep it under control."_

Daniel turned Geff's wheelchair and we headed north along a mossy pathway, toward the White House. The last time I'd seen this view, the White House had actually been white. Now, it was a cheerful collection of bright, clashing colors. The front columns were painted like candy canes.

As we approached the Ellipse, I could see smoke rising from a line of barbeque grills. The whole area was teeming with children. Kids were racing and cart wheeling and somersaulting. I scanned the crowd, trying to pick out the Three, but didn't see them anywhere.

We were about to cross Constitution Avenue when Humphrey's robot horse appeared from the east, galloping down the road at full speed.

Geff said, _"Something's wrong. Humphrey never lets Lollipop run wild."_

I said, "Does she understand English?"

" _Yes. And Chinese."_

Lollipop veered south, onto blue weeds, cutting across the Mall. For all her speed, she had no clear destination. I took off in pursuit.

It took every bit of effort I could muster, but I caught up with her. Making a flying leap, I grabbed hold of the saddle horn and swung myself onto her back. Then I snatched up the reins and pulled, slowing Lollipop to a trot.

Leaning forward, I spoke close to her ear. "Take it easy, Lollipop, everything's going to be okay. If Humphrey is in trouble, just take me to him, as fast as you can."

She seemed to understand me, turning around and breaking into a gallop again.

The cowboys in _Shane_ had to jounce in their saddles to keep rhythm with their horses, but the ride on Lollipop's back couldn't have been smoother. Even at a gallop, all I experienced was a gentle rocking.

Lollipop headed east, back onto Constitution Ave., and took a left onto 15th Street. We sailed past the Treasury Building and angled onto New York Ave. Empty office buildings and parking garages lined both sides of the street. We charged through Mt. Vernon Square, zigzagging past the rubble of the Historical Society.

After that, we seemed to exceed the limits of my knowledge. The grid of glowing streets became nameless and unfamiliar.

As the blocks of vacant storefronts and parking lots flew by, I realized it wasn't going to be a quick ride. This required no knowledge of the city. I was keeping my eye on the opening in the roof, still off in the distance.

Finally, we crossed an overpass and took a left. As we raced northward, the buildings thinned out and the landscape became more rural. We passed a hulking hospital complex, and then our destination came into view.

The opening loomed large now, and through it I could see a slice of rust colored sky. Outside, the sun was setting, but enough light still streamed into the Dome to illuminate a dense forest of blue trees and brush. We had arrived at the Fruitlands.

The mossy pavement gave way to a dirt road that circled the forest. Lollipop took me straight to a spot by the edge of the trees where a wagon sat, loaded with baskets of breadfruit and hazelberries and shay. I saw no sign of Humphrey except for his cap, which lay abandoned on the ground.

Lollipop pawed the dirt and whinnied, calling to him. No response. She whinnied again. Nothing.

I patted her neck and hushed her, then boosted my audio levels to their highest setting. The words were almost inaudible, but unmistakable: _"You must pledge fealty to Queen Scarlett."_

I returned my audio settings to normal. "Lollipop, did a LobeBot get Humphrey?"

She whinnied.

I tugged the reins. "Okay, they went this way."

We sprinted off to the east, following the dirt road around the edge of the forest. We circled almost halfway before we caught up with them.

Four LobeBots were carrying Humphrey by his arms and legs, working as a team, each one holding a limb. Humphrey dangled face up, unconscious but apparently unharmed, aside from the fact that his head was bouncing along on the ground.

Impressive as their teamwork was, the LobeBots seemed to be going nowhere. I got the feeling that, left to their own devices, they would have circled the woods indefinitely.

Fortunately, the LobeBots paid us no mind as we came up behind them. I wanted to rescue Humphrey without being seen by Queen Scarlett. I brought Lollipop to a halt and leapt to the ground. Moving as quickly as possible, I crouched down and went from right ankle to right ankle, hitting failsafe buttons. The LobeBots all crumpled to the ground at about the same time.

I scooped up Humphrey, saying, "Come on, Lollipop, let's get him back to the wagon."

Lollipop lowered herself to her knees and I draped Humphrey face down across the saddle. I ran alongside her on the way back, making sure he didn't slide off.

When we arrived at the wagon, I discovered a bed of sorts already waiting for Humphrey. He must have created it himself: a narrow pallet of shay, bordered by baskets of fruit. As I lowered him onto it, he groaned and his eyes flickered open.

He said, "LobeBots. Hate 'em..."

"Don't worry, you're safe now. We're taking you back to town."

He murmured, "Supplies are overdue," and drifted into unconsciousness again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I hitched Lollipop to the cart, snatched up Humphrey's cap, and hopped into the saddle. We had to limit ourselves to a trot on the way back, because the cart bounced and shuddered with every bump in the road. It seemed a very long trip.

When we got to the bottom of New York Ave., Lollipop cut straight across 15th Street, onto Pennsylvania Avenue. We turned left into a crescent shaped driveway and pulled up to the North Portico of the White House.

I wasn't sure why Lollipop had taken us here, but I trusted her instincts. As I hopped to the ground, Humphrey sat up. I came around behind the cart and helped him to his feet.

I said, "How are you feeling?"

"Splitting headache. Otherwise fine."

"Someone should check you over. Is there a doctor here in DC?"

He gestured to the entrance. "Blue Room."

These words triggered a cascade of memories, and the layout of the White House pieced itself together in my mind. The Blue Room was simple enough to get to: through the front door and straight ahead.

As we crossed the entrance hall, I could hear music wafting out from the East Room, rhythmic and dissonant, like the music Lewis had played on trumpet. The doors were closed, so I couldn't see inside, but it sounded as though the dance was well underway.

The doors to the Blue Room were standing open. Above the threshold, a hand painted sign read: _Nightingale Clinic._ Humphrey and I entered to find a woman working at a loom. She was squat and muscular, and wore her long silver hair in a bun.

She turned as we came in and smiled, recognizing Humphrey immediately. "Hello, Humphrey. Where's your cap?"

Humphrey said, "Can't wear it. Head's banged up."

"Oh dear. Let's have a look."

As she approached us, she offered me her hand. "I'm Dr. Nightingale."

I shook it, saying, "My name it Teo. I just brought Humphrey down from the Fruitlands. He was attacked there and knocked unconscious."

"LobeBots."

"Yes. Are there a lot of them in DC?"

"More and more. Queen Scarlett's been conducting her little experiments on us." She turned to Humphrey. "I'm surprised you let yourself get caught."

"Needed forty winks. Woke up, four of 'em had me."

" _Four_ of them?"

"Working together."

She frowned. "This is getting serious."

I said, "I saw them do the same thing in the Ruins, in even greater numbers."

Dr. Nightingale shook her head ruefully, taking Humphrey by the arm. "Come sit and we'll see what's what."

The Blue Room was now a mixture of the very old and the very new. On one side, Dr. Nightingale had shelves filled with gleaming medical devices, as well as a futuristic examining table. And yet she sat Humphrey down in an antique armchair that matched a nearby loveseat and daybed. Across the room, three ancient looms stood side by side, filling all available space.

But the most striking piece of furniture was the desk at the back of the room, near the windows. It was five times the size of any desk I'd ever seen, uselessly huge. Next to it, a human skeleton dangled from its own little yardarm. I assumed Dr. Nightingale kept it for medical purposes.

As she examined the back of Humphrey's head, I ventured over to the doorway that connected with the Green Room and peered through it. That room was now filled with antique beds, most of them with elaborate wooden headboards and footboards. Apparently, the White House bedrooms had been freely plundered. All the beds were unoccupied, neatly made up with colorful bedspreads that might have been produced on Dr. Nightingale's looms.

I crossed to the other doorway, which connected to the Red Room, and found a similar sight, although the beds were much newer and more functional. Some were actual hospital beds, and many were occupied. This was clearly the real infirmary.

I rejoined Humphrey and Dr. Nightingale, who had finished probing the back of his head. She said, "Your skull's in good shape, not counting the goose eggs, but I want to be sure there's no internal bleeding. I need you on the examining table."

I said, "How long will that take?"

"About twenty minutes."

"I'm going to look around. I'll be back before you're done."

I wasn't sure what to make of my father's White House memories. While the overall layout was clear, his recollection of specific rooms was vague, with two exceptions: the Map Room and the White House bowling alley. These I could picture in detail.

Crossing the entrance hall, I took the marble staircase down to the ground floor. I entered the Map Room to discover that it was now a storage room. Shelves loaded with school supplies lined the walls, crowding out the oil portraits in their gilded frames.

The area around the fireplace, however, had been kept clear. I knew exactly what to do. Kneeling down, I reached inside the chimney and released the catch. The fireplace, marble mantelpiece included, detached itself from the wall. I stepped back and swung it open on its hinges, revealing the vertical shaft behind it. A metal ladder fixed to the wall descended into darkness. Stale air wafted up from below.

There was no need to go exploring. My father had provided detailed memories. The shaft dropped 17 feet, through an interior wall in the subbasement, to a long, sloping corridor. Half a mile east, beneath the Metro tunnels, the corridor leveled out, ending at a thick steel door. This could only be opened with the proper access code, and led to a second door that required a second code. Beyond that, a reinforced elevator shaft dropped another 21 feet to the Presidential Bunker, where Trip Savage spent his final hours.

I swung the fireplace back into place and headed for the White House bowling alley. I could picture it clearly: a narrow, windowless room with a single lane, lying directly beneath the North Portico.

The alley received no natural light, but Glorbs lined the walls. At first, I thought the room had simply been vandalized, but the damage was more methodical than that. Someone had been searching for something, tearing up floorboards, pulling down ceiling tiles, bashing into walls. Bowling balls were scattered across the room. The surface of the alley had been reduced to splinters. The podium that supported the scorekeeping terminals had been ripped from its base. The ball-return cover had been pried loose and flung aside. The destruction seemed quite recent. There was no sign that they had found what they were looking for.

As I was heading back to the stairs, I passed the doors to the Diplomatic Reception Room. Although I had no clear recollection of it, something compelled me to look inside. Barging in, I startled the room's only occupant, a man with coal-black skin and long, beaded hair.

He almost dropped the paint pallet he was holding in the crook of his arm. He pointed his paintbrush at me and said, "Next time, consider knocking."

In the middle of the room stood a large table, as round as the room itself. Art supplies of all sorts filled its center, and easels surrounded it.

I said, "I'm sorry, that was terribly rude of me."

He eyed me quizzically. "Apology accepted. What's your name?"

"My name is Teo."

"My name is Hofmann. You're not from DC."

"That's right. And you're an art teacher."

He nodded. "I teach art to the children, yes, but I think of myself as a painter first."

He turned back to his work, adding new brushstrokes to the wall.

A mural ran around the entire circumference of the room, interrupted only by doorways and windows. I had never seen anything like it. It might have been a landscape, except that none of the shapes was quite recognizable. It might have been an abstract design, except that it was filled with light and shadow. The colors clashed and yet they were in harmony. The composition was a jumble and yet everything was in balance.

I said, "Did you paint this entire mural yourself?"

"Yes."

"It looks like you're almost finished."

"I'll never finish. That's the point."

"What do you mean?"

He gestured at the wall to his right. "If you come back next week, this section will be brand new."

"But you're covering over you own work."

"Exactly. Everything in life is transitory. Why should I make an exception for my art? This mural will be complete the day I die, regardless of what state it's in, and that's all I plan to leave behind."

This was an interesting concept, but I didn't have time to discuss it. "Do you happen to know how the bowling alley was damaged?"

He shook his head slowly. "We're all still in shock."

"It happened that recently?"

"Oh, yes. Three weeks ago today."

"Was the bowling alley really that important?"

"I'm sorry, I've given you the wrong impression. We weren't shocked by the destruction, per se. It was the presence of GR peacekeepers here in DC, in this very house. Most shocking indeed."

"Peacekeepers destroyed it? How many?"

"Just two, but that was enough."

"You were here when it happened."

Hofmann set down his pallet and brush on the table and offered me a chair. We both sat. The child-sized chair was perfect for me, but Hofmann dwarfed his.

He said, "Yes, I was painting, as I do every night. The commotion started about 2 AM. Prior to that, I hadn't heard a sound. The noise was so unexpected, I simply stood and listened for a few moments, trying to think of an explanation. By the time I came out into the Center Hall, Dr. Nightingale was hurrying down the stairs. We both followed the sound to the bowling alley.

"When we got there, floodlights were blazing. One peacekeeper was destroying the lane with a pickax. The other stood and watched, and it was he who turned on us, with a pistol in his hand. He fired a shot that just missed our heads. He meant to miss. He was demonstrating the power of his weapon. It was only the size of a derringer, but the bullet blew an enormous hole in the wall behind us. He told us to sit with our hands laced behind our heads. Needless to say, we did as he asked."

"What did the peacekeepers look like?"

"I've never seen peacekeepers before. I have nothing to compare them to."

"Young or old?"

Hofmann shrugged. "I can't say. Their helmets and goggles obscured their faces."

"How long were they here?"

"Four hours. They were reluctant to admit defeat."

"Do you have any idea what they were looking for? Did they say anything?"

"A few words in Chinese. I don't speak the language. They finally packed up their equipment and left. They never gave us a second glance."

"Did they search anywhere else?"

"Not as far as I know."

"They didn't go into the Map Room?"

Hofmann shook his head. "I would have heard that. Are you suggesting they were looking for Trip's bunker?"

"What do you think?"

"If so, they simply should have asked. Everyone in DC knows where to find it."

"Really? Why is that?"

"It's part of our creation myth, so to speak."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Let me put it another way. The Potomac Clan wouldn't exist had it not been for Trip's bunker. That and the Congressional Bunker."

"It's how they survived the Great Starvation."

Hofmann gave me another quizzical look. "Quite right."

"I'd like to hear the story, but I don't have much time."

"If you'd like, I can tell it without embellishment."

"Please."

Hofmann crossed his arms. "After UNK/C hanged Trip Savage, DC was left to the poor and dispossessed, but not for long. You see, UNK/C guarded all their own Domes but this one was Trip's alone. So, as the Great Starvation set in, it was left unguarded. Soon it was overrun and ransacked. Some people were returning to their homes, but the vast majority had exhausted food supplies in other locations. Ultimately, this Dome ended up like everywhere else Outside, stripped of every edible form of plant and animal life.

"Just before the hoards descended, Cassius appeared for the first time. He told our ancestors exactly where to find the Presidential and Congressional bunkers. He ordered them to leave no one behind and to stay below for two years. The supplies of food and water in the bunkers were more than adequate. When the Potomac Clan finally emerged, the meek, if you will, inherited the earth."

I wasn't sure what he meant. "Why do you call them meek?"

Hofmann looked puzzled. "I'm paraphrasing the Sermon on the Mount."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that is."

He suddenly understood. "You're from the Domes, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Trust me. If you're short on time, you don't want me to explain Christianity."

I thanked him and headed back upstairs to the Blue Room. I entered to find Humphrey perched on the edge of the examining table, legs dangling. Dr. Nightingale was jotting something on her clipboard.

I said, "Tests all done?"

Dr. Nightingale nodded. Humphrey nodded, too, looking out of sorts.

I said, "Any results?"

Humphrey said, "Much ado about nothing."

Dr. Nightingale capped her pen. "Humphrey's all bent out of shape because I want him to spend the night."

Humphrey glared at her. "Supplies are overdue."

She tucked her clipboard under her arm. "Teo got them this far. I dare say he can get them another hundred yards to the kitchen."

Humphrey scowled. "Lollipop needs me."

"Give Teo the remote and he'll get her settled on the South Lawn. You can take a bed by the window and keep an eye on her from here."

Humphrey spoke under his breath. "She's thought of everything."

I said, "Why are you keeping him overnight?"

"Borderline concussion."

Humphrey muttered, "Borderline worrywart."

I realized he was enjoying himself.

Dr. Nightingale turned to him. "Quit grousing. If the tests look good in the morning, you can go about your business and good riddance to you!"

I addressed Humphrey. "Speaking of business, do you ever take fares to Baltimore?"

He shook his head.

I said, "Too dangerous?"

"No customers."

"Would you be willing to take us?"

"Not all the way."

"How far?"

"695."

"Fair enough. We'd be taking my three friends and our iPup."

"Your funeral."

"Should we meet you here?"

Dr. Nightingale turned to me. "Where are _you_ spending the night?"

"To tell you the truth, I have no idea."

"Why don't you stay here? There are plenty of beds in the Green Room. It will be more convenient for both of you."

"Would my friends be able to stay, too?"

"Of course."

"They're at the dance right now. I don't know what time it gets over."

"Nobody does. But I'll be right here. Just wake me if you need anything."

"Where do you sleep?"

She gestured at the gigantic desk with the skeleton beside it. "Right over there, next to Old Trip. That was his desk."

I couldn't believe my ears. "I beg your pardon?"

Dr. Nightingale looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. Of course you wouldn't know."

"Those are President Savage's bones?"

"It's a bit macabre, I suppose, but we're all used to it."

"Why on earth do you keep them around?"

"Just a little reminder of where leadership gets you."

Humphrey said, "Amen to that." He fished a remote out of his pocket and handed it to me. "Supplies are overdue."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lollipop was waiting exactly where we'd left her. She and I hauled the wagon around to the kitchen, unhitched it, and left it for the cooks to unload. Then we headed for the South Lawn. I explained to Lollipop where Humphrey was, pointing out the Green Room windows. When she'd folded up her legs and gotten comfortable, I shut her down.

I could see into the East Room now, through the doors that opened onto the South Lawn. This must have been a recent addition because no such doors existed in my father's memory, nor did the outside staircase. Inside, people of all ages and descriptions were dancing to the music. I tried to catch a glimpse of the band but they weren't visible from where I was standing.

Just then, Moto appeared at the doorway, looking about expectantly. When she spotted me, she dashed down the stairs and made a beeline across the blue weeds. I squatted down to greet her and she practically bowled me over.

As she licked my face, I said, "Hey, Moto, how's it going? Are you having fun at the dance?"

She shook her head.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay, but first take me to Luma."

She did a pirouette and led me back across the lawn and up the stairs. We entered the East room and skirted around the edge, dodging the whirling dancers who paid us no mind. I followed Moto to a spot near the middle of the room, where the younger kids were learning to dance.

I scanned the crowd, looking for the Three. Bim was nowhere to be seen, but I picked out Luma and Dogan. A teenager was coaching them, showing Dogan the proper way to spin Luma.

They were facing each other, holding hands, and Luma was laughing. She was wearing an expression I'd never seen before.

I turned away. The band was now visible against the back wall of the room. The musicians seemed to be in their teens, which surprised me. There was nothing childish about their music at all.

Moto wove her way through the dancer's legs and got Luma's attention. The moment Luma saw me, she let go of Dogan and hurried across the room.

She grabbed my hands. "Teo! Where on earth have you _been?"_

"It's a long story. Is Bim around?"

"I'm not sure. He didn't seem too interested in dancing." She started pulling me toward the dance floor. "Come on, they're showing us the steps right now!"

I stayed put. "I'm sorry, Luma, I don't know how to dance."

"But they'll _teach_ you!"

"I'm sorry. Moto and I are going to take a walk. Maybe we'll run into Bim."

She hung her head.

I said, "You go back and dance with Dogan. We're all going to sleep here tonight. When you're done, come to the Blue Room. Dr. Nightingale will find you a bed in the Green Room."

She looked up. "Are you _sure_ you don't want dance?"

"Positive. But Moto and I will be there in the Green Room, whenever you guys get in. If you see Bim, tell him what's going on."

Luma turned and headed slowly across the dance floor. Moto and I went out the way we came in.

Since Moto needed a good run, we headed toward the Mall. As we were crossing the Ellipse, a figure dressed in a JaniTron uniform stepped out from the bushes.

It said, _"Please don't be afraid. I mean you no harm."_

Moto and I exchanged a look. She sprinted over to the LobeBot and bit its right ankle. Nothing happened. She bit it again. Nothing.

During this, the JaniTron stood motionless, waiting. As Moto returned to my side, it said, _"My failsafe button does nothing. I'm not a LobeBot. I'm a MediTron."_

"Then why are you wearing that uniform?"

" _It's a disguise. I needed it in order to escape."_

"Escape from where?"

" _Baltimore."_

"From Queen Scarlett?"

" _Yes."_

This made sense, more or less, but I wasn't convinced.

I said, "When did you escape?"

" _Last night."_

"How?"

" _She was flying LobeBots into this Dome. I switched uniforms with a JaniTron. She dropped me into the forest, through a hole in the roof."_

"And how did you get down here?"

" _I've been walking around this city, all night and day. I've been trying to find its center. I know I can be of use here."_

This seemed plausible enough, and by now I was certain of one thing: this android was much too intelligent to be a LobeBot, or even a normal Menial. MediTron seemed the only other possibility.

It said, _"Are there any hospitals in this area? I need to serve a purpose."_

I turned to Moto. "What do you think? Any threat?"

She shook her head.

I turned back to the MediTron. "What's your name?"

" _My name is Thomas."_

"Hello, Thomas. My name is Teo, and this is Moto."

" _Pleased to meet you."_

"Would you like to walk with us?"

" _Yes."_

Thomas fell in step and we continued toward the Mall. After we crossed Constitution Ave., I told Moto to go stretch her legs and she tore off to the south. Thomas and I kept walking.

I said, "How did you end up in Baltimore?"

" _I don't remember."_

"How is that possible?"

" _I believe Queen Scarlett wiped my memory when I arrived."_

"Where were you working before that?"

" _I don't remember that, either."_

This seemed odd. "Why would she erase those memories?"

" _I don't believe it was she. I believe they were wiped by the GR. This is standard procedure with Menials."_

"But you're not a Menial."

" _I am often treated as such."_

I said, "I know what you mean."

Thomas stopped and turned to face me. _"I don't understand."_

For some reason, I'd just assumed he knew. "I'm sorry. I'm an android, too. As a matter of fact, we were both constructed by Joseph Clay."

Thomas fell silent for a moment. He seemed to be making up his mind. _"I believe he spoke of you."_

This took me by surprise. "You have memories of Joseph Clay?"

" _Yes."_

"During your construction?"

" _Yes."_

"He didn't erase them?"

" _I thought he did. I had no memories of him until recently. They reappeared in Baltimore."_

"After Queen Scarlett wiped your memory?"

" _Yes."_

We resumed our walk. There were many other questions I might have asked, but I said, "What did he say about me?"

" _He only spoke of you once. He couldn't speak openly at the laboratory."_

"This was in Richmond, Virginia?"

" _Yes. Joseph Clay worked in the Provisional Science Ministry, in Dome Six."_

"Did he live there?"

" _No. He lived in Dome Three."_

"Did he have a family?"

" _No."_

"Did he ever mention a wife and daughter?"

" _Yes. He said they had died many years before."_

"He only spoke of me once?"

" _He only had one opportunity. The two of us were alone in the laboratory. He had just added my TEO's. No other scientists were allowed in the building."_

This was another surprise. "You have TEO's?"

" _Without them, we wouldn't be able to perform our tasks."_

"The GR has been trying to build TEO's for a long, long time. Why haven't they just opened up your skull?"

" _Our circuitry will self-destruct if our skulls are tampered with."_

This made me wonder about my own skull.

I said, "Did Joseph Clay tell you why he built me?"

" _Yes, because he missed his daughter."_

"But did he tell you what my purpose was? What he wanted me to do?"

" _No. But he said the Invasion forced him to hide you."_

"Anything else?"

" _He said his plan wasn't working. The GR had found you. He was building MediTrons in order to protect you."_

"How would that protect me?"

" _Kim Jong-pil had asked Joseph Clay for help. His father had suffered a stroke. His youngest son had become completely paralyzed."_

"But Kim Jong-pil must have had teams of doctors at his command."

" _That wasn't enough. Father and son both had active minds trapped in useless bodies. Neither could communicate in any way."_

I had seen Daniel and Geff together. "MediTrons allowed them to speak again."

" _Yes. Daniel was built for his son and_ _I was built for his father. Kim Jong-pil was very grateful for this. On his orders, you were left alone."_

"So you _do_ remember where you were working."

" _I remember my first assignment, but Kim Jong-un died in 2096. I remember nothing about the following 77 years."_

Thomas and I found ourselves at the base of the Washington Monument. We sat down on one of the benches. Neither of us spoke for some time.

Finally, Thomas said, _"I need to serve a purpose."_

"There's a clinic just over there, in the White House. I'll introduce you to Dr. Nightingale."

" _Thank you. I appreciate your help."_

It occurred to me then that Thomas could be of help to us.

I said, "How long were you in Baltimore?"

" _I can't say with any certainty. I could have been there for years before she wiped my memory."_

"Does that seem likely?"

" _No. She hadn't figured out I was a MediTron."_

"You weren't in uniform?"

" _I was dressed as a PilotTron."_

"Why?"

" _I don't remember."_

"So how long were you there after she wiped your memory?"

" _Three days."_

"Did you see much of the building?"

" _I spent most of my time locked in the dungeons."_

"Why?"

" _She keeps her LobeBots in a holding pen."_

"Where does she keep her human prisoners?"

" _In the same room. The sub-basement is quite large."_

"But not in the same pen."

" _No. When a LobeBot returns with a captive, it goes into one pen and the human goes into the other."_

"How often does that happen?"

" _LobeBots return every day, but their captives are seldom human."_

"Then what do they bring in?"

" _Mostly pythons. I only saw one human come in. A three-year-old girl."_

"How many human captives does she have?"

" _As many as she needs. The GR supplies her with them."_

"All men?"

Thomas paused. _"Forgive me. I know it's not my place to ask questions, but why are you interested in this topic?"_

It seemed only fair to explain myself, but it was a very long story. I had to start at the beginning, back in Dome Nine, and introduce him to the Three, and tell him what we were all doing Outside.

Thomas listened in silence. When it was finally over, he simply said, _"I should accompany you to Baltimore. I can be of use."_

The same thought had crossed my mind, but it seemed an unreasonable request.

I said, "But Thomas, you just escaped from there last night. I can't ask you to go back."

" _As long as I'm serving a purpose, it makes little difference where I am."_

"You know all about Queen Scarlett? You're aware of what she does to people and animals and androids alike? Of what she might do to you?"

" _I saw it for myself, Teo. But I'm incapable of fear and I exist to serve others. And you need all the help you can get."_

There was no arguing with that.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We entered the Blue Room to find Bim and Dr. Nightingale chatting away. They were sitting side by side on the edge of the gigantic desk, Trip Savage grinning over their shoulders. She had the earpieces of her stethoscope in place and Bim was speaking into the cone at the other end. Whatever he was saying made her giggle.

They were both alarmed to see me walk in with a JaniTron. They hopped down from the desk, ready for trouble. Thomas and I stopped a safe distance away.

I said, "You can relax. Thomas isn't a LobeBot." I turned to Moto. "You can vouch for him, right, Moto?"

She wagged her tail. That was good enough for Bim.

Dr. Nightingale was still wary. "If he's not a LobeBot, then what _is_ he?"

"Believe it or not, he's actually a MediTron."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Is he really? What a remarkable find!" She turned to Thomas. "I'm pleased to meet you. What are you doing here in DC?"

Thomas said, _"I don't know yet. I just escaped from Baltimore last night."_

Her expression changed to puzzlement.

I said, "The whole situation is complicated. Can we sit down somewhere?"

Dr. Nightingale rearranged some of the antiques and we sat in a circle as I filled her in and brought Bim up to date. Eventually, she excused herself and went off on her rounds, disappearing into the Red Room.

We turned our attention to the coming day.

Thanks to Thomas, Bim and I now had enough information to make a real plan. As we talked things through, we hit upon a way for Thomas to get us into the Bank of America building. Then Bim brought up the fact that Thomas, Moto and I could all see in the dark, and pointed out that this could give us an advantage once we were inside. It was an excellent idea, but there was one problem: none of us had the faintest idea how Queen Scarlett got her electricity.

I was so engrossed in planning that I lost track of time again. Bim had to remind me that it was almost 9:30 PM. I hastily picked out a bed in the Green Room and climbed into it. Moto curled up at my feet. Bim chose a bed, as well, and Thomas sat down with him so they could continue talking.

They're still talking right now. It makes me wish I could stay up with them. And music is floating in from the East Room, more rhythmic and dissonant than ever. It's easy to imagine Luma and Dogan dancing the night away, whirling arm in arm around the room.

Shutting down suddenly appeals to me.

Entry complete.

### Part Four: Baltimore

### Chapter 12

10.22.2173.9:29PM

When I booted up at 5:30 AM, my thoughts turned immediately to Queen Scarlett. I sat up.

The Three were sound asleep, as was Humphrey, and there was no sign of Thomas. The world around me seemed perfectly still. I wondered how late people slept in DC. Noon? All day?

I wanted to get up and go somewhere, which made no sense. We weren't planning to arrive in Baltimore until late afternoon. And the Three needed their rest. They had likely stayed up half the night.

I decided to watch _The Big Heat_ and _Shane_ one last time. I lay back down and closed my eyes.

The two heroes seemed even more like opposites to me. Bannion almost kills three people, none of whom poses any threat to him. All three are helpless at the time. Had he killed them, it certainly wouldn't have been in self-defense. Shane, on the other hand, walks into the saloon knowing it's either kill or be killed, and his code requires him to let his opponents draw first. He happens to outdraw them all, but the result could have been different. No one could say he wasn't killing in self-defense.

And yet I understood Bannion's behavior better than Shane's. Bannion was avenging his wife's death, and the three people he hunted down were responsible for it. If someone killed Luma, I might react in the same way.

But Shane kills three people who've never done him any harm. What's more, he seeks them out. Nothing compels him to enter that saloon. He may have been saving his friend's life, but only in the most roundabout way. His friend isn't even in the room. His friend isn't even in _town._ Was shooting everyone dead really the only way to solve the problem?

By the time I finished, it was almost 8 AM. The Three were still in a deep sleep, and Humphrey had pulled his blankets over his head. I couldn't stay in bed any longer. I decided to go find Thomas.

This proved easy enough. As soon as I stood up, I spied him through the window. He was sitting on the South Lawn, next to Lollipop, doing nothing at all.

As I passed through the Blue Room, I found Dr. Nightingale sound asleep, hovering 2 inches above the surface of Trip's desk. That explanation would have to wait. I cut through the deserted East Room and exited onto the South Lawn.

Thomas looked up as I approached. _"Hello, Teo. I was wondering when you'd boot up."_

I sat down on the grass next to him. "I boot up every morning at 5:30, and I shut down every night at 9:30. I'd like to change this, but I don't know how."

" _You can access those settings through your remote."_

"I don't seem to have one."

" _That's too bad. I don't know of any other way to change them."_

"What time do _you_ shut down?"

" _Never. MediTrons are always on call."_

I found this hard to imagine. "Then your life is just one never-ending day."

" _Correct."_

"Except that the GR wiped 77 years worth of memories."

Thomas paused. _"Also correct."_

"That's almost your entire existence. How do you even know who you are?"

" _They could only wipe my Temporal Memory. My Core Memory remains intact. It can't be touched."_

"And your Core Memory is responsible for what?"

Thomas paused. _"It gives me a sense of self and provides continuity to my actions. Without it, my behavior would be erratic and unprincipled."_

"Are you saying it's a _code?"_

" _I don't know what that word means in this context."_

"Does it help you distinguish right from wrong?"

" _I believe so."_

I wasn't sure I should keep going, but I did anyway. "Are you capable of harming human beings?"

" _In theory, yes. I have never done so, as far as I remember."_

"Do you think you're capable of _killing_ humans?"

" _In theory, yes."_

"But in practice? Do you think you could actually go through with it?"

" _That's a difficult question."_

"I know."

Thomas paused again. _"I don't have an answer. I can't say in advance what I would do. I wouldn't know until the moment came."_

"People Outside seem to believe that killing is wrong, under any circumstances."

" _I understand that point of view."_

"Do you believe it yourself?"

" _It's difficult to say. My beliefs are defined by my actions."_

"But if you had to give an answer, what would you say?"

Thomas was silent for a long time. _"Killing is only justified if it saves someone's life."_

"You mean in self-defense."

" _No. Not your own life. Someone else's life."_

"Why not your own?"

" _I don't know. You asked me what I would say. I can't explain it."_

Thomas's tone of voice seemed melancholy.

I changed the subject. "What did you do all night long?"

" _I spoke with Bim for quite some time. He's very intelligent. He understands a great deal about androids."_

"He knows about a lot of things."

" _After he went to sleep, I spoke with Dr. Nightingale. Then I accompanied her on her 2 AM rounds. She invited me to help at the clinic, when we return from Baltimore."_

"Do you want to?"

" _I need to serve a purpose."_

"What time did Luma and Dogan get back from the dance?"

" _Just as we started our rounds."_

An irrational question came to mind. "How did they look?"

" _There was nothing unusual about their appearance."_

"I mean, did they look happy? Sad?"

" _I don't know. They looked tired."_

More irrational questions came to mind. I might have asked them if Dr. Nightingale hadn't appeared at the East Room doors, calling to us. "Come on, Thomas, let's get going! It's late!"

Thomas got to his feet. _"I'm supposed to accompany her on her 8 AM rounds."_

I stood up along with him. "Great. I need to talk to her, anyway."

Dr. Nightingale was standing at the top of the stairs, hands on hips. As we approached, I said, "May I ask you a question?"

She seemed irritable this morning. "Make it quick, please."

"Are there any scientists in DC who can tell me about GR infrastructure? I'm interested in electricity, in particular."

"I don't know of any GR scientists who've escaped the Domes. Not to DC, anyway. Except..." She paused, shaking her head. "Never mind."

"No, what were you going to say?"

"Well, there is one former GR scientist here, or so he claims. Unfortunately, he's about a thousand years old and completely out of his skull. There's no point in talking to _him."_

"But he used to work for the GR?"

"If you can believe what he says. He calls himself King Wen. He lives in Smithsonian Castle, up in the bell tower. Exactly what he's king of, nobody knows. He never sets foot outside. All he does is tell fortunes for anyone who'll make the climb. Fortunes that are utter nonsense."

"And you think he's crazy."

"No, I _know_ he's crazy. Excuse me, I've got work to do. Come on, Thomas."

Dr. Nightingale led Thomas away through the East Room.

I had all the time in the world and no other leads of any sort. I set out for Smithsonian Castle.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In my father's memory, the Castle was an ornate building of red sandstone, topped with turrets and spires. Now, it was a battered wreck. Sometime in the intervening century, it had been used for target practice. Bullet holes pockmarked every square inch of the exterior. Not a single windowpane remained. Heavy weapons had been used to blast away the turrets and spires.

The bell tower had escaped outright destruction, although it had its share of pockmarks and shattered windows. One of the windows, at ground level, had been enlarged with a sledgehammer, and the red sandstone rubble beneath it had been piled up to create steps. Above this opening, a hand painted sign read: ORACLE GO UP. Two arrows, painted on either side of the words, pointed toward the sky.

I looked up "Oracle": _In Greek religion, priest or priestess who imparted the response of a god to a human questioner. Many observed signs, such as the motion of objects dropped into a stream, the movements of birds, or the rustle of leaves. Often dreams were interpreted._

Just below that was a second entry, "Oracle Bones": _Bones used for divination by the Chinese during the Shang Dynasty. These records of divination, which were incised on the shoulder blades of animals (mainly oxen) and on turtle shells, contain the earliest form of Chinese writing. The bones were heated to produce cracks from which "yes" or "no" answers were somehow derived._

All this confirmed that King Wen was advertising himself as a fortuneteller. It also suggested he was either Greek or Chinese.

I climbed the makeshift stairs and stepped through the opening. A spiral staircase wound upward, into the shadows. I followed it all the way to the top and found myself on the threshold of an octagonal room.

The room was sparsely furnished. In the center, a low table stood on a bamboo mat, a teapot, teacup, and VaporFlask resting on top. Near the north window, a breadfruit tree grew in a huge pot. A similar pot, containing a hazelberry bush, sat near the south window. The only other furnishings were a bare mattress, placed against the far wall, and the wooden chest that sat next to it, doubling as a headboard. High overhead, the Smithsonian bell still hung in place. By some miracle, it had survived target practice.

Standing between table and mattress was the oldest man I'd ever seen. His face, despite its countless wrinkles, was clearly Chinese. White hair spilled across his shoulders. His body was so stooped that his long white beard threatened to touch the ground. The wooden staff he clutched seemed to be the only thing holding him up. King Wen did indeed seem a thousand years old.

He squinted in my direction. "Teo, is that you?"

I wasn't sure how he knew my name. "Yes."

"Come closer."

As I crossed to the table, his mouth spread into a grin, revealing a full set of teeth. He said, "I wait for you long, long time."

"You've been waiting for me? Why?"

"Your father give me message. I wait long, long time to tell you."

"You knew my father?"

"Yes. He give me message."

I had my doubts. "What is it?"

"Your father..." King Wen staggered to the left, then steadied himself with his staff. "Your father tell me..." He clutched at his heart, gasping. "Your father tell me to tell you..." He gasped again. "Your father tell me he want me to tell you..." His knees buckled and he went over sideways, still holding his staff.

I watched him sprawl onto his back and lie still, eyes closed, not breathing.

It seemed improbable that King Wen would drop dead just as he was delivering this message. As I knelt down to feel for his pulse, his eyes snapped open and he whipped his staff at me, taking me by surprise. It whacked my head, hard, just above the ear.

He sprang to his feet.

I stood up. "Why did you hit me?"

"I try to knock all that death from your head. Too much thinking!"

"Do you really have a message from my father?"

He shrugged. "Just kidding! But I work with him, long, long time ago."

"You worked with Joseph Clay?"

"Yes, yes, of course! Joseph Clay! He help me fake my own death!" He paused, looking alarmed. "Uh oh! Now King Wen think about death!" He whacked him self on the forehead with his staff.

I was fast losing hope. "Did you really know my father?"

This seemed to anger him.

He said, "You got one-track mind!" and swung his staff at my head.

He was very fast, but this time I was ready and I ducked under it. I decided to stop asking about my father.

I said, "Dr. Nightingale tells me you were a scientist for the GR."

"That lady don't know science if it bit her ass!"

"You don't think she's a good doctor?"

He swung his staff at me again.

I ducked just in time. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"You need ducking practice!"

"I'd feel safer if you put it down."

He snapped the staff across his knee and tossed both halves out the window. "Happy now?"

"Can we sit down and talk?"

Suddenly, he was all politeness, bowing deferentially. "Please, will you join me in a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you."

He flung his arms wide. "Why not? There's plenty of room!"

This joke amused him no end. He doubled over with laughter. Gasping for breath, he said, "You want me to get bigger cup?"

He finally pulled himself together and we sat down on the floor, across the table from each other.

His face became serious. "Forgive me, Teo. I like jokes too much. Everybody say I got bats in my belfry." He gazed up at the tower ceiling, looking puzzled. "I don't know what they mean."

I hoped to get a straight answer out of him before he went berserk again. "How does Queen Scarlett get her electricity?"

His eyes came back to me, the gleam of lunacy gone. "All power from Arctic come down rail lines, just like trains, same tunnels. Big, big cables, right beside tracks. Go to every Dome. If Queen Scarlett need electricity, she gotta get it from Domes."

"Which Dome?"

"Probably closest one. I betcha million bucks she run cable right down the street. Just like big, big extension cord. Way too hard to bury."

"Where would she attach it?"

"Gotta reach sub-basement. For that, she gotta dig. Look for deep, deep hole."

I couldn't quite picture it. "Are you saying Queen Scarlett went out there with a shovel and dug a hole?"

"No, no, never! She lazybones! She make slaves do it."

"Negroes from the Domes?"

"No, no, her soldiers. Same thing. Both slaves."

"Her soldiers are all Negro?"

"Only way out of Domes. Pledge fealty, move to skyscraper, get more food."

"Suppose I wanted to cut her power. How would I go about it?"

King Wen picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Chop with ax."

I thought this was just wordplay. "I didn't mean it literally. I need a way to blackout her skyscraper."

"Chop with ax."

"You mean the _cable?"_

"Yeah. Not too thick, you very strong. One good whack do the job."

"Won't I get a shock?"

"What do _you_ care?"

This wasn't really a surprise. "So you know I'm an android."

King Wen crossed his eyes and made buckteeth.

I said, "Joseph Clay told you about me."

He tilted his head, but kept the idiot face.

"Please be serious. Did he ever tell you _why_ he built me?"

The teacup came flying at my head. I ducked under it and it shattered against the wall.

King Wen was angry again. He shouted, "Your father tell you to duck?"

I thought this was a rhetorical question.

He shouted it again. "Your father tell you to duck?"

"Of course not."

"Then why you duck?"

I thought this was a real question. "I ducked because—"

"Silence!"

He sat there glaring at me. I stared back, trying to find meaning in his behavior. Despite Dr. Nightingale's assertions, I didn't believe King Wen was the least bit crazy.

He suddenly burst out laughing, as though this were just another one of his jokes. "Now I tell your fortune!"

He hopped up and went over to the wooden chest, returning with a thin black book and bundle of twigs. He sat down and started sorting the twigs rapidly into piles.

I said, "What are you doing?"

He didn't look up. "Hush. Think what you want to know."

There wasn't any doubt what was on my mind: I wanted to know what would happen once we reached Baltimore. I didn't see how sticks would provide this information.

King Wen's fingers flew but the process required him to sort the twigs again and again. He finally let out a grunt and set them aside. Opening the book, he flipped pages until he found the right one. "You get Hexagram 9, _Small Cattle."_

This wasn't a promising start. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That just title. Main idea. Judgment say:

Sign of the Sacrifice.

Thick clouds and no rain,

From my west field cometh."

This sounded like a weather report. "So it's not going to rain today?"

He shook his head. "Oracle speak of one thing, mean something else. You also get moving line:

It rained and it cleared.

A carriage picks you up.

Danger for a woman.

After the full moon,

Misfortune for a gentleman.

At least this made some sense. The first line seemed like a reference to the flood in the storm drain. The second line was more specific, a direct reference to Humphrey, it seemed. The third line made sense when applied to Luma. It was a reference to Queen Scarlett's attack on the _Abraham Lincoln._ And we had seen the full moon rising over the ocean that same night. There was only one problem: all these events were in the past.

I said, "This is my fortune? You're saying this will take place in the future?"

King Wen shrugged. "Could be future, could be past, could be right now."

"Is that it?"

"No. You get moving line, change to Hexagram 5, _Waiting:_

The penalty is a goblet of wine.

Sign of the Sacrifice.

Good omen.

Auspicious for crossing the great stream."

This seemed like gibberish, except for the title, _Waiting._ We wouldn't be leaving for Baltimore until mid-afternoon and I had nothing to do until then.

In some ways, the Oracle seemed accurate, in other ways, vague.

I said, "What am I supposed to make of all this?"

"You solve it, like riddle. But be careful. Oracle echo your own mind. Try not to think."

"How do you solve a riddle without thinking?"

This time, the book came flying at my head. I ducked under it.

I expected him to start shouting again but he just smiled. "You go now. King Wen run out of things to throw."

I got up and went to retrieve the book. It had landed face up and now lay open on the floor. When I picked it up, the page was turned to Hexagram 13, _Gathering._

I took a second to scan the text, then handed the book back to King Wen. "Throw it again if you like, but I've got a question about my father."

He stuck his fingers in his ears.

I went on. "Could Joseph Clay have been Cassius? The first Cassius?"

He unplugged his ears, considering the idea. "Impossible. GR watch him day and night. Joseph Clay never leave Richmond. No travel privilege. Go to work, take train home, sleep. Go to work, take train home, sleep. Back and forth, back and forth! That's it! Whole life!"

As I headed for the doorway, something else crossed my mind. I turned. "One last question. Not about my father."

He clutched his skull, gritting his teeth.

"The air around here seems fine. Why is the air so bad in China?"

He frowned. "You misinformed. Air in China okay."

"Really?"

"No joke."

"All right. Thanks."

"Don't forget to duck!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I got back to the White House, I found Thomas sitting on the South Lawn again, next to Lollipop,. He was staring at the ground and didn't seem to notice my approach.

I sat down next to him. "How were your rounds?"

He turned to me, unsurprised by my presence. _"Routine. None of the patients have conditions of any complexity."_

"That's good, isn't it?"

" _For them, yes. A few have broken bones. Everyone else is being treated with Panacillin."_

"I don't know what that is."

" _It's a broad spectrum antiviral and antibiotic medication."_

"I've never heard of it."

" _It's unknown in most of the Domes. The GR has tried to keep its existence a secret."_

"Why?"

" _I don't know."_

"But Cassius knows about it."

" _He invented it."_

"Really? And he shared it with the GR?"

" _Yes."_

"Why?"

" _I don't know."_

Thomas's tone of voice seemed melancholy again.

I said, "Are you disappointed in Dr. Nightingale's clinic?"

" _Unfortunately, it wouldn't occupy much of my time."_

"Is that a problem?"

" _I don't know what to do when I'm not serving a purpose. Since I don't sleep, it's difficult to fill all that time. And I'm constructed to operate indefinitely. I might function for thousands of years."_

"Humans would envy you. They're still trying to live forever."

" _They don't understand what it's like."_

I was having trouble seeing his point of view. "I'm older than you and I feel like my life is just getting started."

Thomas's reply seemed offhanded, as though he were preoccupied with something else. _"That's because you just woke up."_

I found this puzzling. "What do you mean?"

Thomas fell silent. He finally said, _"We should discuss the route to Baltimore."_

As I hurried back to the Green Room to fetch the map, I thought back on my conversations with Thomas. I hadn't mentioned anything about my awakening.

The Three were still in a deep sleep. Humphrey, on the other hand, was out of bed, if not exactly up and about. He was in the Blue Room, lying on the examination table, as Dr. Nightingale scanned his head with one of her medical devices.

I returned to Thomas and spread the map out across the weeds.

As Cassius had said, there were many possible routes to Baltimore. Interstate 95 was very direct, but also very obvious. We settled instead on Route 295, the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. It was an equally direct but much smaller highway to the south, that passed through more rural surroundings. Whether or not this would make any difference was debatable. Once Queen Scarlett spotted us, no amount of cover was likely to help. But at least we wouldn't be sitting ducks, stranded on a ten-lane superhighway with nowhere to hide.

We were still looking over the map when Humphrey appeared, on his way to retrieve Lollipop. He okayed the route and told us to meet him on the John Phillip Sousa Bridge at 2 PM. I returned Lollipop's remote to him. He booted her up and took off without another word.

Thomas then surprised me by announcing that he was leaving for Baltimore immediately. At first, I tried to talk him out of it, but he soon convinced me it would be wiser to travel separately.

We went over the rescue plan again.

Thomas would intercept us at the corner of Paca and Lombard, posing as a LobeBot. He would then drag Luma and Dogan into the Bank of America building through the rear entrance, where actual LobeBots returned with their captives. Moto would clamp herself onto Dogan's ankle, as though she'd helped in his capture.

Once inside, they would have to improvise. The hope was that they'd find Dogan's father in the human holding pen. Despite the risk, Luma and Dogan would allow themselves to be locked in with him. Thomas and Moto, on the other hand, would do everything possible to avoid being locked in the LobeBot pen, short of giving themselves away.

Meanwhile, Bim and I would find the power line leading to the subbasement. I would make my best guess as to when to chop through the cable, blacking out the building. Thomas and Moto, the only ones still able to see, would free Luma, Dogan, and his father from the holding pen and lead them out of the building. Bim and I would be waiting outside, ready to accompany them to a hiding place.

There was plenty that could go wrong, but it was a good plan anyway.

Thomas and I said our goodbyes and I watched him walk away. This seemed very sudden, somehow, and unsettling.

Now, I was the one with nothing to do. I considered going in search of an ax but it seemed like busy work, and I wanted to be around when the Three woke up. Having no inclination to go inside and make conversation with Dr. Nightingale, I just sat on the South Lawn.

As I waited, the Mall began to show signs of life. Everyone who appeared seemed bound for the White House. I finally figured out that breakfast was being served in the cafeteria.

For a long while, I passed the time reading entries in the New Columbia Encyclopedia. Then my thoughts turned to Hexagram 13, _Gathering._

My first so-called fortune had been a prediction of the _past,_ which was hardly impressive, but there had been something uncanny about it, nonetheless. I decided to give the Oracle a second chance. The fact that _Gathering_ had been presented to me by accident shouldn't make much difference. As far as I could tell, King Wen's twig-sorting process had generated numbers more-or-less at random.

Like the other hexagrams, Hexagram 13 was terse. The Judgment had little apparent meaning:

A gathering in the field.

Sign of the Sacrifice.

Auspicious to cross the great stream.

Good omen for the gentleman.

The six moving lines, however, gave me more to go on:

1 A gathering at the gate.

No troubles.

2 A gathering at the ancestral temple.

Trouble.

3 Soldiers in the grass, lying in ambush.

Ascend to those high hills.

They shall not rise for three years

4 The city wall is scaled, but not won.

It's time to attack.

5 The assemblage first wept, then laughed.

The great armies finally clash.

6 A gathering at a ritual in the field.

No grudges.

If the Oracle referred to past, present and future, all at once, there was no reason to believe these lines would happen in order, assuming they happened at all. But the first line was a possible reference to our upcoming rendezvous with Humphrey. Any bridge out of DC would pass through a gateway of some sort, at the rim.

The second line was puzzling because I wasn't sure exactly what a temple was. Such things didn't exist in Dome Nine. I looked it up: _edifice or sometimes merely an enclosed area dedicated to the worship of a deity and the enshrinement of holy objects connected with such worship._ The article went on at length about various temples built in ancient times. Unfortunately, none of this helped me picture what one might look like.

That was as far as I got. I heard Luma call my name and turned to see her ambling toward me, rubbing her eyes. I stood up.

She gave me a sleepy smile. "What time is it?"

"12:18 PM."

Her eyes widened. "Yikes! Shouldn't we get going?"

"Pretty soon. Are Bim and Dogan up?"

"Yeah. Dogan's hungry."

"I think you guys can still get breakfast in the cafeteria. You'd better eat now. We don't know where the next meal is coming from."

Luma took my arm. "Good idea. If you don't watch out, Dogan will eat _you!"_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

An hour later, we were well on our way to the John Phillip Sousa Bridge, hurrying along Pennsylvania Avenue SE. There wasn't any rush, but the Three seemed propelled by nervous energy, half excited, half anxious.

Luma, Bim and I strode down the middle of the street, side-by-side, but Dogan hung back a few paces, swatting the air with his new baseball bat. He'd gotten it at the scavenger hunt, swapping his baseball for it. Before we left, I double-checked his backpack, to make sure he hadn't swapped away the flashlight or the slingshot and ball bearings, which we might need.

Moto had apparently decided to act as scout. She trotted about a block ahead of us, alert to danger of any sort. The trip, however, proved uneventful, and we arrived at the foot of the bridge fifteen minutes early.

The rim of the Dome was anchored squarely in the Anacostia River, as it had been in the Potomac, creating a dam. The span we crossed passed above the dry riverbed, now home to blue weeds and scrub brush. Up ahead, I could see an archway similar to the one we'd entered through, but half the size and free of statues.

Viewed from within the Dome, the sky Outside appeared muddy brown in color. As we neared the arch and our eyes began to adjust to daylight, the color changed to deep maroon. Then thunder rumbled and the heavens opened and rain poured down in sheets.

I thought of Humphrey and Lollipop, Outside somewhere, on their way to pick us up. I hoped they had taken cover. We stood inside the archway and watched it pour. The rain would delay our departure, but not enough to affect our plans. I knew firsthand how fast Lollipop could run.

The downpour only lasted a few minutes, and then the maroon clouds began to disperse, revealing patches of orange sky. Soon, the sun was blazing down again. Looking south over Route 295, I caught a flash of pink and pointed it out to the Three. We watched Humphrey and his moon buggy hurtle northward, along the moss-covered parkway.

Humphrey took the turn onto his side of the bridge, flew up to the arch, and made a wide U-turn.

He called to us over his shoulder. "Baltimore next!"

As the Three were climbing onto the moon buggy, I noticed a large fly buzzing around Lollipop's hindquarters. This was odd for a number of reasons. To begin with, I had yet to see a single insect Outside. The fly landed on Lollipop's flank and I stepped over for a closer look.

It had four segmented legs, a single green eye, and oval shaped, wire mesh wings. I pointed the fly out to Humphrey and asked him what it was.

He glanced at it. "SpyClops."

"Queen Scarlett made that?"

"Rule of thumb. If it flies through the air, it's hers."

"What does it do?"

"Itty bitty spy drone."

I suspected as much. I snatched it up, imprisoning it inside my fist. It didn't seem very fast or very smart.

Moto was still waiting her turn to climb aboard, so I called her over and opened her storage compartment. I tossed in the SpyClops, locking it inside. This particular drone wouldn't see where we were going, but the damage was already done. Queen Scarlett knew we were leaving DC.

We rode in the same configuration as before. The Three shared the seat, Moto curled up underneath it, and I stood behind it. It was just as hot as yesterday and the Three would have gladly opened their umbrellas, but Lollipop was charging along at 30 mph. The rushing air did nothing to cool us.

Route 295 followed the Anacostia River for a few miles, then veered off toward Baltimore. The surrounding landscape had been annihilated by windstorms. Almost every structure had been leveled, including brick and concrete high-rises. As we traveled north, though, the destruction grew less severe. By the time we crossed over Route 495, houses and buildings were more-or-less intact, windowpanes aside.

Shortly after that, a second SpyClops picked up our trail. It buzzed us from behind and then climbed up above the treetops. As I watched it make a wide arc, looping around to buzz us again, I could see that its flight path was entirely predictable.

I asked Dogan for his slingshot and ball bearings. By the time the SpyClops came at us again, from the front, I was loaded and ready. Its path was so direct that it seemed to hang in the air. The ball bearing shattered its eye and tore through its body lengthwise, reducing it to fragments.

Unfortunately, it had already completed its mission, locating us for its companions, who were now appearing in the northern sky, directly above the parkway. Even at 10X, they were black specks. At 20X, they were still difficult to identify, but they were definitely larger than the SpyClops, black blobs about the size of baseballs, dangling from wide, papery wings.

They were gliding toward us at a leisurely pace, but we were charging at them at 30 mph. I considered stopping to take cover and ruled it out. We were cutting through a deep forest and red flowers lined both sides of the parkway. Queen Scarlett had chosen to attack us here for that very reason.

But attack us with what? I increased magnification to 50X. The black blobs, it turned out, weren't perfectly spherical. They were oblong, with a splotch of red in the center. I counted four legs on either side, long, spindly legs that clawed the air. In the center of all this was a face: four pairs of eyes and fangs for a mouth.

I had only seen photographs of them in the Extinction Catalogs, but the creatures coming for us were definitely spiders. Queen Scarlett had enlarged them and given them wings and no doubt made their venom deadly.

The spiders wouldn't be in range of the slingshot for another minute. I called out to Humphrey to stop, which bought us a little extra time.

I found it difficult to tell Luma what was on the way. She isn't scared of much, but her greatest fear is spiders. She was spooked by the close-ups she'd seen, and the faces haunt her dreams. Her only solace is the fact that spiders no longer exist.

At first, she wouldn't accept it. "You're telling me that great big spiders, great big _flying_ spiders, are headed this way?"

When I pointed them out, she said, "Those could be anything! They could be birds!"

"I'm sorry, Luma. There are no birds Outside."

Her face was growing pale.

I said, "It's okay."

"No, Teo! It is definitely _not_ okay!"

"Don't worry, I'm going to shoot them down before they get here. Just in case, you and Bim and Dogan open your umbrellas and pull your feet up onto the seat. If any spiders get past me, they'll bounce off your umbrellas. Moto will stay underneath the seat. If any land down there, she'll kill them before they can get to you."

"What about Humphrey?"

Humphrey leaned over and plucked the inverted silver umbrella from its socket. Turning it right side up, he held it over his head, saying, "I'm good."

It looked clownishly small.

Dogan jumped to his feet and thrust his umbrella at Humphrey. "Here, take mine! I don't need it!"

Luma looked shocked. "Dogan, are you crazy?"

Dogan picked up his baseball bat. "You think I'm going to hide under an umbrella when spiders are raining down?"

I said, "Dogan, I'm pretty sure they're poisonous. One bite could kill you."

I could see the fear in his eyes, but he stood his ground. "It'll be just like batting practice! Besides, what makes you so sure you can get them all?"

I _wasn't_ sure, but it seemed foolish to let Dogan risk his life. I had the impulse to step over and knock him unconscious with my fists. This is exactly what Shane had done in order to save his friend's life. That didn't make it a good idea, but instead of dismissing it I stood there, wasting precious time, imagining what it would be like to punch Dogan in the face.

I forced myself back to the present. "Okay, here's the plan. We're going to make a run for the next exit. It's about two miles up ahead. Once we're off the highway, we can find shelter. I'll cover Humphrey with the slingshot from back here. Dogan will stay right where he is, covering Luma and Bim. Moto will deal with any spiders that make it to the floor. Okay?"

Everyone nodded.

"Okay, umbrellas up! Let's go!"

Humphrey coaxed Lollipop from walk to trot to canter to full gallop. Dogan leaned into the wind, baseball bat ready on his shoulder. Bim was sitting cross-legged on the seat, umbrella casually braced, apparently unconcerned. Luma clutched her umbrella handle with white knuckles, her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in them. The nape of her neck looked terribly vulnerable.

I realized I couldn't afford to fish ball bearings from the pouch one at a time. I poured them into my mouth.

The first spider swooped down, on a collision course with Humphrey. The ball bearing I fired hit the red splotch dead center, tearing away the spider's abdomen and causing it to spin off to the side.

After a brief lull, a second spider dropped from the sky, headed right for the moon buggy. Before Dogan could even raise his bat, I sent a ball bearing through its face. It took a nosedive and got churned under Lollipop's hooves.

The next two spiders arrived at almost the same time. Reloading quickly, I shot them both down, but it was a close call. Looking to the horizon, I could see a long line of spiders, gliding together in clusters, with no end in sight. I went to 2X and started trying to hit them further out. I made some successful shots, but also missed a few.

On the positive side, the spiders didn't seem capable of evasive action. But they were starting to arrive in groups of three and four, and we were still a mile and a half from the exit.

Four spiders came in together and Dogan got his first chance at bat. I took out two in the air, one bounced harmlessly off Humphrey's umbrella and Dogan smacked the last one into the trees.

Then two came in from the left and three from the right. I managed to shoot down one of the two, and two of the other three, but both remaining spiders swooped at Dogan. He swung right-handed, then left-handed, bashing them away in opposite directions.

He turned to me, grinning, a big mistake. A single spider came in low, about at his calves. With my mouth full of ball bearings, all I could do was point, much too late.

Moto shot out from beneath the seat, intercepted the spider, and tossed it under the moon buggy's wheels. When Dogan saw this, his grin disappeared and faced forward again.

With a mile to go to the exit, I made a difficult choice. The spiders were coming in so fast that I had to stop covering Humphrey and focus all my attention on Dogan. At least Humphrey's umbrella was doing its job. The spiders that bounced off it lost momentum and fell away.

Meanwhile, Dogan's bat was in constant motion. His reflexes were a wonder to behold, but I was too busy firing ball bearings to pay much attention. Keeping up wasn't my only problem. I was also running low on ammunition.

Moto was doing everything in her power to defend Dogan's legs, dashing around and through them, bashing away spiders with her fists. I began resorting to fists myself, deflecting spiders that had made it past the ball bearings and the bat. No one had been bitten yet, but we were on a downward spiral. The more spiders I had to punch, the fewer shots I could get off, and Dogan's strength was ebbing away.

We reached the exit at last and veered off the parkway to the south, forcing the spiders to change course. They were behind us now, and Lollipop was doing her best to outrun them. Still, the sky was thick with spiders. We desperately needed shelter.

As the exit ramp merged onto Route 198, a building appeared unexpectedly on our right. By the time I saw it, we were already past it, but the parking lot entrance was up ahead. I called out to Humphrey to turn into it. He pulled hard on Lollipop's reins, but we were still traveling too fast going into the turn. The moon buggy whipped sideways, skidding across the moss and swinging us almost even with Lollipop.

This sudden change of direction got us out from under the closest wave of spiders, but we were now headed back the way we came, directly into the path of the next wave. As Lollipop got the buggy straightened out behind her, dozens of spiders swooped in over the treetops, angling toward us.

Lollipop whisked us up to the entrance. Miraculously, the doors were standing open. Moving as one, we abandoned the moon buggy and fled inside, just as the spiders reached the ground. We managed to swing the doors shut before any made it to the threshold.

I'd studied the building as we'd passed it. Its façade was made almost entirely of glass. Large rectangular windowpanes ran from the ground all the way up to the building's roof. It was hard to imagine how they'd survived all the windstorms. A sign above the entrance displayed an insignia done in chrome, two jagged lines enclosed in a circle.

The interior, we now discovered, was a single, cavernous room. We all went to the windows to watch the spiders rain down.

Some of them began crashing against the windowpanes. At first, I thought they were continuing their attack, but I quickly realized that stupidity was the cause. They didn't understand glass. They would slam into the windowpanes and plummet to the ground. Their papery wings, which seemed quite brittle, did little to slow their fall. Sometimes their abdomens would burst against the glass on impact. If not, they burst when they hit the ground.

The spiders that tried to land directly on the parking lot didn't fare any better. They came in too fast and tumbled when they hit, wings crumbling and legs snapping off. The injured spiders used their remaining legs to no avail, dragging themselves in circles.

Luma watched this with a pained expression. "What's wrong with them?"

Bim said, "Queen Scarlett made them too big. Above a certain size, their design doesn't work."

I repeated Bim's words.

She said, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I feel sorry for them."

Dogan snorted. "I don't!"

Luma turned to Bim. "What's going to happen to them?"

Bim said, "Most of them died when they hit the ground. The rest will bake to death in the sun."

As I repeated Bim's words, I could see he was right. Many of the spiders had stopped moving. The others were flailing their legs, trying in vain to crawl into the shade.

I said, "In about 15 minutes, I think we can get going again."

Humphrey said, "Nap time," and turned away from the windows, looking for a place to lie down.

I turned my attention to our surroundings. The original purpose of the building wasn't clear to me, but it had been turned into some sort of meeting hall. Rows of sofas, mismatched and legless, faced the back of the room. It took me a moment to realize they weren't sofas at all. Someone had salvaged the rear seats from dozens of different automobiles and lined them up on the floor.

Humphrey wandered up the center aisle, looking for the most comfortable one. When he found a seat to his liking, he stretched out on it and pulled his cap down over his eyes.

The rows ended near the rear wall, at a short flight of stairs that led up to a stage. This space was dominated by an enormous cube made of crushed scrap metal. Atop the cube lay a thick book, open to the middle.

Above the stage, a white bed sheet had been tacked to the wall. Written on this, in orange paint, was a list of some sort, comprised of ten lines. It read:

Thou shalt not have other gods before me.

Thou shalt not make graven images.

Thou shalt not take up the name of thy God in vain.

Remember the day of the Sabbath to hallow it.

Honor thy father and thy mother.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Thou shalt not kill.

Thou shalt not steal.

Thou shalt not bear against thy neighbor vain witness.

Thou shalt not covet the wife of thy neighbor, or his house, or his field.

I studied this list for a time, puzzling out the unfamiliar words. Obviously, _thou_ meant the same thing as _you._ The meaning of _covet_ wasn't so obvious, but I decided it meant _want_ or _desire._ I couldn't make any sense out of _adultery._ As for _God,_ it was a word rarely spoken in Dome Nine, for fear of punishment. The concept behind it had always been unclear to me.

But the overall meaning of the list was plain enough: it was a set of rules for life itself. It was a _code._

The rules seemed to be listed in no particular order. I wasn't sure what _graven images_ were, but I didn't see how making them could possibly be worse than killing. It seemed to me that _Thou shalt not kill_ should have been either first on the list, or last. Instead, it was buried somewhere in the middle, as if to downplay its importance.

Still, it was a lot better than no code at all. I wondered who had come up with it and why they had posted it in this building. Did people gather here to study it?

Bim appeared at my side.

I pointed to the list. "What do you make of that?"

"Those are the Ten Commandments, Teo."

I looked up "Ten Commandments": _In the Bible, the summary of divine law given by God to Moses on Mt. Sinai. They have a paramount place in the ethical system of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam._

I looked up "Bible": Name used by Christians for their Scriptures. The traditional Christian view of the Bible is that it was all written under the guidance of God and that it is, therefore, all true, literally or under the veil of allegory.

The article continued on at great length about the Bible's origins, which I wouldn't have been able to follow without looking up dozens of new words. Hofmann had implied that Christianity was complicated, and I decided to drop the whole subject right there.

I turned around. Luma was still at the front windows, watching the spiders, her shoulders slumped. Dogan had stepped away and was busy taking pointless practice swings with his bat.

Bim had turned around with me. He gestured toward the windows.

"Teo, somebody's coming this way."

We walked over to where Luma was standing. A young girl, about Luma's age, was walking east along Route 198. Luma hadn't noticed her yet because the girl was quite far off. At 2X, I could see she was wearing a simple white dress and sandals. To my surprise, she was carrying an ax.

She held it across her chest, gripping the handle with both hands. Despite its size, she didn't seem to be struggling with it. She walked along calmly, looking left and right.

If she hadn't had the ax, I might have been more concerned for her safety. But the spiders no longer posed much of a threat to anyone, and there were only a few scattered on the roadway ahead of her, most of them dead. If anything, she was a threat to them.

Luma didn't see it that way. As soon as she noticed the girl, she rose up in alarm. "Oh my gosh! Teo, there's a girl out there!" She grabbed my arm, pointing. "She's headed straight for those spiders! You've got to stop her!"

I looked at Bim.

He said, "It's simpler if you just go."

There were so many spiders on the parking lot that I couldn't help crushing some underfoot as I hurried across. Their abdomens burst open with a quiet pop.

By the time I reached the girl, she was already standing over one of the spiders, watching it try to drag itself off the road. She looked up at me as I approached, her expression troubled.

I said, "Hi."

She didn't smile. "Hi."

"My name is Teo."

"I'm Louisa. Will you help me kill these spiders?"

I didn't see the point. "Why? They're already dying."

"Because I can't stand to see them suffer like this."

"But they'll be dead soon enough."

She shook her head. "I've seen them last for hours."

"Really?"

She nodded.

I said, "How do you kill them?"

Louisa knelt down and pointed at the spider's head, almost touching it. "This is the cephalothorax. Queen Scarlett had to make it bigger so she could grow wings there. She should have strengthened their legs to handle the extra weight, but she didn't. That's why they can barely walk." She pointed to the rear. "This is the abdomen. This spot, where it joins the cephalothorax, is called the pedicel. She should have strengthened that, too, but she didn't, which makes it easy to cut them apart. Watch."

She positioned the ax blade and let it drop, splitting the sections in two, killing the spider instantly.

She stood up and let out a sigh. "That's all there is to it."

"How do you know so much about spiders?"

"My dad's a scientist. Will you please help me kill them?"

"You want to end their suffering as quickly as possible."

"Yes."

"May I borrow your ax?"

She passed it to me. All the axes I'd seen in Dome Nine had handles made of wood. This ax seemed to be cast from a single piece of steel, head and handle both. I ran my thumb along the edge of the blade. It was razor sharp.

I said, "I should warn you, I move very fast because I'm an android."

Louisa nodded, not looking particularly surprised.

There were 242 spiders in all, 83 still showing signs of life. I worked my way toward the building, chopping as I went, completing the task at the entrance, where the spiders were thickest.

When I finished, Louisa was still standing in the road. I jogged over to her.

She smiled for the first time. "Thank you. I feel better now."

"Did you come out here just to kill them?"

"No. I was on my way to afternoon prayers. When I saw them coming down, I went back for an ax."

I offered it to her but she shook her head, saying, "Keep it."

"Why?"

"I'm giving it to you. I think you're supposed to have it."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just have this feeling."

"Don't you need it yourself?"

She shook her head again. "Not really. We have plenty of axes."

"Who does? Your clan?"

"Yes."

"Which clan is that?"

"The Walmart Clan. We live just down the road, on the other side of 295. That's why we chose this place for our temple."

The word "temple" brought the Oracle instantly to mind.

A gathering at the ancestral temple.

Trouble.

I wanted to be sure. "This building is a temple?"

"Yes, Temple Ezekiel. Our clan has been using it for 82 years."

"You come here in the afternoon to pray?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

Louisa looked surprised. "Every day."

"You come here every single day?"

"Three times, actually. Morning, afternoon and evening."

"Your clan comes here three times a day?"

She shook her head, scowling. "I'm not talking about the whole clan. They only come on Saturdays. I'm just talking about myself."

"You come here on your own?"

"Yes."

"No one else comes with you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Most of the people in my clan are in their seventies or eighties, and the rest are even older. My mom is the youngest and she's seventy-one."

"What about the other children?"

"There aren't any other children."

"You're the only child in the entire clan?"

"Yes."

"How is that possible?"

Louisa shrugged. "My dad talked everyone out of having kids."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because the world is coming to an end."

At first I thought this might be a joke, but her expression was somber.

I said, "What are you talking about?"

"When the GR started pumping the smog cloud into orbit, my dad did the math. The temperature is rising exponentially now. In thirty years, the oceans at the Equator will begin to boil."

"How can you be sure?"

"My dad's prediction was fifty years. His numbers were too optimistic."

"But there must be some way to reverse it."

"I've been praying to God three times a day, ever since I can remember. My mom says that's our best hope."

This didn't make much sense to me. I was trying to come up with a reply when Humphrey stepped out of the building. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, "All aboard!"

I turned back to Louisa. "I'm sorry, we have to get going now. May I walk you to the temple?"

I offered her my arm and she took it. As we approached the entrance, she noticed Lollipop for the first time and released me, hurrying over for a closer look.

While she talked with Humphrey, I used the ax to sweep the dead spiders off the moon buggy and clear a path for the Three. I found one last surviving spider under the seat. Its abdomen had burst open but its legs were still flailing. I chopped it in two and swept it away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A few minutes later, we were back on Route 295 North, galloping toward Route 695. This leg of the trip was notable for what _didn't_ happen. We were halfway to Baltimore now and there were no LobeBots to be seen anywhere.

True to his word, Humphrey wouldn't go an inch past 695. He brought the moon buggy to a halt just before the overpass. I hopped off, almost forgetting my new ax. Once Humphrey was sure we had everything, he tipped his cap, made a U turn, and sped away. We stepped into the shadow of the overpass and watched him disappear. No one said a word.

With nothing ahead for us but a long, hot march into the unknown, I was concerned morale might be dropping. It seemed like a good time to go over the plan.

As I laid it out, spirits lifted. Once the Three had details to focus on, they began to feel a sense of control. When I'd finished, I said, "Any questions?"

Luma said, "How will we know which LobeBot is Thomas?"

"He's dressed as a JaniTron."

Luma narrowed her eyes at me. "I know _that._ What if some _other_ JaniTron comes along?"

"Thomas's failsafe button doesn't do anything. Moto will bite the ankle of any LobeBot that comes near. If it doesn't drop, it's Thomas."

"Okay, but Queen Scarlett will be watching us the whole time, right? Will she really believe we're being captured?"

"She doesn't know about Thomas and we'll dirty up Moto to look like her other iPups. If we're lucky, she'll think it's real enough."

Dogan said, "Do you really have to black out her building?"

I said, "Of course. The whole plan depends on it."

He turned to Luma. "Can I have your flashlight?"

She rolled her eyes.

I said, "Sorry, Dogan, I've already put it in my backpack. I'm going to need it."

"What for?"

"I just need it. Any other questions?"

Dogan turned on his heels in anger and stalked off toward the far side of the underpass.

Luma said, "I'll go talk some sense into him," and hurried away.

Bim said, "We should look at this from Queen Scarlett's point of view. She knows we're coming for Dogan's father, correct?"

"Cassius said as much."

"That's entirely to her advantage. All she really cares about is your skull and now you're coming right to her."

"But Cassius also said she'd bring the battle to _us._ Does that mean she won't wait for us to get there?"

Bim thought for a moment. "I don't think she's coming for you herself."

"Why not?"

"We defeated her on the Abraham Lincoln. If she hadn't fast-talked you, she'd be dead now. I think it scared her."

"Okay, but why send spiders?"

"I think she senses the same thing Luma does. The four of us together are smarter and stronger than she is."

"So she was trying to pick off the three of you?"

"That's my guess. The spiders were a joke, but we may not be so lucky next time."

I said, "I haven't spotted a single LobeBot, have you?"

"No. We can be pretty sure they're next."

"She's been training them to work in teams. There must be a group of them waiting for us somewhere."

"Probably a large one, otherwise you and Moto could drop them all."

Luma and Dogan were coming our way.

Luma said, "Dogan gets it now."

Dogan didn't look angry anymore, just glum. "I'm not _afraid_ of the dark! I just don't _like_ it very much!"

I said, "You'll be fine, Dogan. Come on, we're still a long way from Baltimore."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Our next problem had nothing to do with Queen Scarlett.

Route 295 curved northward for half a mile, then entered a long straightaway. We soon came to a point where a wide, muddy stream had overflowed its banks, swallowing up a portion of the parkway. It hadn't looked like much on the map.

The water that flowed across the roadway was only a couple of inches deep. Luma said, "My feet are burning up! I'm going to cool off!" She ran ahead and splashed into it.

Bim said, "That's probably a bad idea."

Something shot out of the stream. It cleared the guardrail and landed on the roadway, some sort of fish or eel, about 3 feet long. It skidded across the wet moss and came to rest at Luma's feet.

For a moment, she just stared at it in puzzlement. I could see now that it wasn't an eel. It was using its front fins to brace itself as it slapped the water with its tail. A second fish sailed over the guardrail and skidded across the road.

Bim said, "Tell her to run."

I called out to Luma, already sprinting in her direction.

The fish lunged forward, sinking its teeth into her ankle. As she screamed in pain, trying to shake it off, two more fish jumped the guardrail.

Dogan and Bim sprinted with me, but I left them behind. The three fish on the pavement were dragging themselves toward Luma with their front fins. I quickly chopped them in two with my ax, buying a little time, but fish were jumping the guardrail from all directions now.

I told Luma to hold still and chopped the fish on her ankle in half. Even in death, the head refused to let go. I pried its jaws apart and tossed it aside. Blood poured from the wound.

I glanced around. Bim was already past us, halfway to the other side. Moto and Dogan were battling fish, a waste of time. I scooped up Luma and shouted, "Let's go!"

We all ran for the far side of the stream, jumping the fish that had landed and ducking the ones coming over the guardrail. We came splashing out of the water at about the same time and kept running for another 50 yards.

I was about to put Luma down when Bim said, "They're still coming."

We turned to look. The fish were beyond the edge of the water now, hauling themselves across dry land.

Bim said, "Snakeheads, a type of Asian carp. They can breathe out of water."

The fish weren't difficult to outpace, but we needed to stop and tend to Luma's wound. We set off again at a run.

A quarter mile to the north, 295 crossed over Route 895. Once we were on the other side of the bridge, I chose a spot on the weed-covered median strip and set Luma down. We huddled around her. Moto kept an eye on the advancing fish.

Bim poured water from the VaporFlask onto Luma's ankle, washing away the blood. The snakehead's teeth had made multiple gashes, two curving rows of them. I realized that we hadn't brought medical supplies of any kind.

Bim reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of paper envelopes.

I said, "What are those?"

Bim handed them over. "Dr. Nightingale gave them to me. They're some sort of Band-Aid."

I tore open one of the envelopes and withdrew a square of clear plastic. It didn't look like it would do much good.

The wound needed a moment to dry, so I stood up and checked on the snakeheads. They were tiring out and turning back. I knelt down again and placed the clear plastic square on Luma's ankle. The square turned invisible, pulling the edges of the gashes together. The bleeding stopped.

Luma said, "Wow, what did you just do?"

Moto growled, looking into the woods that bordered the highway to the east. Leaves began to rustle and I could make out shapes moving through the trees. A LobeBot emerged from the woods, moving silently up the shoulder and onto the pavement. Another emerged, then two more, then five. Moments later, an entire platoon of LobeBots was fanning out across the highway to the north.

As I pulled Luma to her feet, I looked back the way we'd come. More LobeBots were appearing from a hiding place beneath the parkway bridge, climbing up the embankments on both sides, blocking the highway to the south.

I looked across the median strip. Just as many LobeBots were coming out of hiding on the other side of the parkway, out of the trees and up the shoulder.

Soldiers in the grass, lying in ambush.

Ascend to those high hills.

They shall not rise for three years

Our only hope of escape was to the west, where an onramp came spiraling up from 895, merging with 295 South. Because this loop offered no cover, it was the one area free LobeBots.

I pointed out this gap to the Three and they took off toward it.

I turned to Moto. "You guard their right, I'll guard their left."

We zipped past them as the LobeBots closed ranks ahead of us, trying to seal off our escape route. Moto began dropping the ones on her side and I did the same on mine. Both of us worked furiously, trying to keep the gap open. Deactivated LobeBots began piling up, creating makeshift barriers that slowed the others down.

The Three flew through the gap, jumped the guardrail, and raced down the onramp. Moto and I dropped what we were doing and charged after them.

How could we _ascend to those high hills_ when the landscape was perfectly flat?

Through the trees, I glimpsed a rusty chain link backstop. We were passing a baseball diamond. I overtook the Three, saying, "Follow me," and cut through the tangled underbrush to our right. We burst out onto a weed-choked field. Nothing was left of the baselines or the pitcher's mound, but I found what I was hoping for.

A set of tall aluminum bleachers, tarnished but intact, bordered what was once the outfield. I pointed it out to the Three, saying, "Up the bleachers, to the top!"

The LobeBots were pouring down from the parkway now, plowing through the underbrush and making their way around the backstop.

I joined the Three on the top row and watched the LobeBots fill the ball field. As they gathered in front of the bleachers, staring up at us, I took a head count. There were 317 of them in all.

The LobeBots began trying their luck on the stairs. Most of them couldn't balance on one foot for any length of time and toppled over backwards or sideways. But some fared better, making it up the first two or three rows. Whenever they got that far, Moto would spring from the top and slam them in the chest with her hind legs. The same force that sent them toppling backwards also launched her into a back flip, landing her right where she started.

Moto would have played this game all afternoon, but we couldn't afford to stay trapped on the bleachers, waiting for Queen Scarlett's next attack. Esmeralda's words came back to me: _Everything she does has a flaw. You just have to find it._

There was something odd about the LobeBots' behavior, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

I turned to Bim. "They're different somehow. What did Queen Scarlett change?"

"Hard to say. She doesn't have much brainpower to work with."

"We were on the median strip for a couple of minutes before they attacked us. Why didn't they attack right away?"

"I can think of one reason."

"What?"

"They couldn't see our faces. As soon as we got there, we all gathered around Luma. You finally stood up and turned around and that was the first time they got a good look at you. Then they attacked."

"Are you saying Queen Scarlett programmed them to recognize us?"

Bim shook his head. "Too much processing. I think one face would be their limit."

"She programmed them to recognize _me?"_

"There's an easy way to find out."

The test only took a minute. I asked the Three to move one row down, leaving the top row to me. I started at one end and walked the length of the bleachers. Every LobeBot in the outfield turned its head, following my movements. I reversed direction, repeating the test. All eyes were on me as I walked back to where I'd started.

I had Luma conduct the same test while I sat with the others. The LobeBots never looked her way. All eyes remained fixed on me.

I stood up and shrugged off my backpack, addressing the Three. "I'm going to distract the LobeBots. Once their backs are turned, everyone run for it. Moto, too. Go down the embankment and take cover under the overpass."

Luma said, "What are _you_ going to do?"

I pulled a shock wand out of my backpack and turned it on. The indicator light flashed red. I said, "If this thing still works, I'm going to attract a drone."

The LobeBots were packed tightly together, pushing toward the bleachers. I skipped down to the third row and jumped from there, landing atop the heads of two adjacent LobeBots. When they reached up to grab at my feet, I hopped over to a different pair. When those two reached up, I hopped again. In this fashion, I made my way toward the center of the crowd.

If my plan was going to succeed, I needed to remain visible to every LobeBot on the field. Looking back the way I'd come, I could see that the LobeBots on the edge of the crowd had turned away from the bleachers, keeping me in sight. I watched the Three hurry down the steps and race off toward the parkway.

That was fine as far as it went, but if the shock wand turned out to be dead, I had no backup plan of any description. I bent down and tested it on a nearby SaniTron. The moment the tip touched the LobeBot's forehead, blue sparks flew, a welcome sight indeed. The shock had no effect, but that didn't matter. I jolted the SaniTron a second time and more sparks crackled through the air. Dumb luck had rescued me again.

After that, it was a matter of waiting. I passed the time dancing from head to head, keeping as close to the center of the crowd as possible.

Before long, I heard the whine of an approaching drone. That was my cue to disappear. Planting my foot on a PilotTron's face, I gave it a good shove backwards. This created a momentary opening in the pack, and I dropped into the gap before it closed.

I found myself in a shadowy world of ankles and shins. Setting down the shock wand, I threaded my way through this obstacle course, emerging near the bleachers and rolling under them. From my hiding place, I took a moment to peer out at the LobeBots. They were still tightly packed, pressing toward the center, where they'd last seen me.

The whine grew so loud that even the LobeBots noticed and began looking skyward. I wondered if they knew they were about to die. My plan suddenly seemed cruel.

I ran for the parkway myself, tearing through the underbrush and up the onramp. The drone came in over my head. Out of time, I took the embankment in a single leap, tumbling onto Route 895. As I scrambled under the overpass and up to the Three, an explosion rocked the earth.

The sound echoed and died away and then bits and pieces of LobeBots began raining down. Protected by the overpass, we watched shards of metal shower the ground, along with the occasional hand or foot. Heads came bobbling down the embankment. Scraps of cloth drifted through the air.

Dogan ran his hand through his hair. "Man oh man, there's nothing left of them!"

Luma said, "Queen Scarlett won't be happy about this."

I was thinking the same thing.

I said, "Everyone take a good long drink from the VaporFlask. We're going to run the rest of the way."

We returned to the median strip and gathered up our things. We were still about 4 miles from downtown Baltimore. Fortunately, the sun was low in the sky now and the Three didn't need their umbrellas. As we set out at a jog, clouds were already gathering in the western sky. I didn't point them out.

It took us just about 10 minutes to cover the first mile. By then, maroon clouds had blotted out the sun. I paused for a moment to let the Three catch their breath. High above, out of range of the slingshot, another SpyClops was circling us. I didn't point that out, either.

Luma said, "She sending a tornado, isn't she?"

I said, "If we can get to Baltimore first, she'll have to call it off."

Bim said, "I don't think that's likely. It's forming very quickly."

I had a backup plan, but I was saving it as a last resort.

I said, "I'm not giving up yet. Let's keep moving."

We ran the next mile at full speed. This brought us to the Interstate 95 interchange, a tangle of looping onramps and off ramps. We crossed under the first overpass, which was only two lanes wide and offered little protection. Next, we came to I95 itself, a wide, 12 lane, double overpass. We took shelter under it and assessed the situation. The clouds, reddish black now, were surging toward us, swallowing up the sky.

Luma said, "We'll never make it!"

Bim nodded in agreement. "We need another plan."

Somehow, Luma knew what I had in mind. "Get that box of hers out of your backpack! If she sees it she'll call off the storm, just like the water spout!"

She was right, but before I showed the box to Queen Scarlett, I wanted to know what was inside. There was still time to find out. I retrieved it from my backpack and examined the lock. It was as old fashioned as the box itself, a simple keyhole in the front.

I addressed the Three. "Does anyone know how to pick a lock?"

They all shook their heads.

I turned the box around and examined the hinges. They were joined together with screws. All we had to do was remove these and open the lid from the opposite side.

Dogan cried, "Look!"

We followed his point. A funnel cloud was making its way to the ground.

I said, "Dogan, give me your jackknife!"

He said, "Are you nuts? We have to get out of here!"

"And go where?"

"We have to get to a basement or something!"

"This tornado will obliterate everything in its path, basements included."

"Then we should hide somewhere!"

"We can't. There's a SpyClops watching us."

"But, but, but..."

"Just give me the jackknife!"

Dogan handed it over. The blade, too dull to cut well, made a fair screwdriver. I removed the screws from both hinges, raised the lid, and reached inside.

The box contained some sort of handheld electronic device. I withdrew it, put it in my pocket, and quickly reassembled the hinges.

The funnel cloud touched down about a mile away, sucking up material from the ground and expanding into a massive column of churning debris. It was heading directly for us.

When I handed the box to Luma, she misunderstood. She ran out from beneath the overpass and lifted the box to the sky, hoping the SpyClops would catch sight of it. I knew that wouldn't work.

I called Moto to my side, opened her storage compartment, and snatched up the SpyClops trapped inside, making sure to keep its eye uncovered. I joined Luma out in the open and asked her to hold the box steady. Using the SpyClops as a camera, I did my best to get a good close up.

This seemed to have no effect. The tornado, a half-mile away now, continued roaring toward us. I had a strong impulse to throw Luma over my shoulder and outrun it on my own. When I looked at her, she shouted, "Don't you dare pick me up!"

I tossed the SpyClops away and pulled her back beneath the overpass, calling out to Bim and Dogan, "Get down behind the supports!"

This wouldn't save us from a direct hit, but it was possible Queen Scarlett was only toying with us. At this point, our lives depended on it.

The Three lay on their stomachs, doing their best to hug the concrete support. Moto and I sprawled across their backs, using our weight to hold them down. The roar grew louder still and the winds tore at our hair and clothes, trying to pull us into the sky.

And that was the worst of it. The tornado seemed to stall right there, losing strength. Gradually, the winds died down and the roar subsided. Moto and I waited awhile, to be sure, then let the Three get to their feet.

We should have run the moment we'd had the chance. Out in the open, we would have seen her coming.

Queen Scarlett swooped into the underpass from the south, astride her gryphon. Its talons clamped around my waist, yanking me off my feet. We swooped out the other side and ascended into the sky.

At first, I was glad Queen Scarlett had whisked me off. We would have our showdown far away from the Three, where no one else could get hurt. And then I realized she would never let them off so easily. I knew I had to get back.

I looked up at the gryphon's underbelly, searching for a way to bring it down, as fast and as hard possible. Bim had said she'd made her gryphon too big to fly, that she'd added an exoskeleton to provide extra strength to its wings. The exoskeleton was plain to see, a metal ribcage surrounding the gryphon's torso. The two halves joined together at a metal breastbone that ran along the underbelly, well within my reach. This was crisscrossed with wires. I reached up and yanked out a handful.

It was that simple. The gryphon immediately began flapping its wings in panic, losing altitude. We were dropping fast toward an elevated onramp to I95.

As it braced itself for impact, the gryphon instinctively released me. I fell 50 feet to the mossy pavement, reaching the onramp first. I was already sprinting toward the gryphon as it came in for a hard landing. It must have whacked its head when it hit, because it keeled over, skidding to a halt on its side.

Queen Scarlett went over sideways with it, blood-red cloak billowing, and cracked her own head on the pavement. As she struggled to her feet, I tackled her from behind, slamming her head into the pavement again, face first this time. I rolled her onto her back and got my hands around her throat.

The face was all wrong. The voice was all wrong, too.

" _Your diaper needs changing. Please come with me."_

I was battling a NanniTron. I released its throat and pressed the failsafe button on its ankle. The LobeBot went limp beneath me.

Queen Scarlett's voice came from above. "You're just no fun at all!"

I looked up to see her astride a second gryphon, hovering 30 feet above the ground, the box tucked under her arm. Luma was draped across her lap, face down, unconscious.

Queen Scarlett said, "You blunder right into every trap! It's like you're not even trying!"

"Set Luma down and I'll take her place!"

She shook her head, smiling. "I prefer things as they are! Surrender by nightfall and I'll let her live! Don't be late!"

The gryphon pumped its wings and climbed into the sky, vanishing into the clouds.

In a strange way, I wasn't concerned about Luma. I was confident Queen Scarlett wouldn't harm her unless I were there to witness it. I was more concerned about what she'd done to Bim and Dogan. I knew I should get back to them right away, but there was something I had to do first.

The downed gryphon had skidded to a halt against the guardrail and was lying still, breathing rapidly. One of its wings was pointing to the sky, the other was stretched out across the pavement. I circled around it and approached from the front. As I suspected, it had been knocked unconscious during the landing.

Its head was enclosed in a leather harness with reins attached. I looped the reins around the guardrail and tied them securely. Then I vaulted the guardrail, dropping to the roadway below. The gryphon hadn't carried me far: the double underpass was just a hundred yards to the south. I sprinted the distance and found Bim and Dogan where I'd left them.

Bim was kneeling over Dogan, applying Band-Aids to his face, closing up the gouges that ran from cheekbone to chin. Dogan's shirt was soaked with blood.

Dogan wasn't making the job any easier, twisting his head impatiently, saying, "Come on, come on, hurry up! We have to save Luma!"

I said, "Hold still, Dogan. Bim's almost done."

Bim looked up at me. "The first thing she did was rake her fingernails down his face."

"What did she do to Luma?"

"Knocked her out with an uppercut to the jaw."

"And what did she do to you?"

Bim turned back to Dogan, applying the last Band-Aid. "I picked up the box and ran."

"Really? What for?"

"To create the impression we hadn't opened it."

"Good thinking. Did it work?"

"I believe so. She chased me down and snatched it out of my hands. She was so happy to have it back, she forgot to hurt me."

Dogan sat up. "Why are we just sitting around? She's got Luma!"

I said, "I know you won't like this, Dogan, but we have to stick to the plan."

"Are you kidding? We have to _save_ her!"

I shrugged off my backpack and unzipped it. "I'm going after Luma. You're going to rescue your father. That's why you're here."

"But we could—"

I cut him off. "It's better this way. Queen Scarlett knows I'm coming for Luma. She'll be waiting for me. She won't be paying any attention to the dungeons."

Dogan climbed to his feet, beginning to see reason. "But how are you going to find Luma?"

I retrieved the second shock wand from my backpack. "I'll start at the top and work my way down."

"At the top of what? Queen Scarlett's building?"

"Yes."

"But how—"

I cut him off again. "You and Bim have to hurry. It's almost dark. Thomas is waiting for you."

I glanced around. "Wait a second. Where's Moto?"

Bim stood up. "She's over there, behind that support."

I handed Bim the shock wand. "Is she hurt?"

"No. I think she's just embarrassed."

"About what?"

"She had her back turned when the second gryphon arrived. It landed right on top of her. She was stuck under it the whole time."

I called to Moto. She came out from behind the support, looking sheepish and very dirty. Some of the gryphon's filth had rubbed off on her while she was trapped underneath it. We couldn't have created a more perfect disguise.

I knelt down and patted her head, smudging the dirt. "You have nothing to be ashamed of Moto. Without your help, we never would have gotten it this far. You're a hero."

She wagged her tail.

"But there's still more work to be done. Are you up for it?"

She nodded.

"Good. Take care of Bim and Dogan. I'm going after Luma now."

I stood up, turning to Bim. "First, though, you have to teach me how to whistle."

"Right. And don't forget you have salt."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I got back up to the overpass, the gryphon was awake but still lying on its side. I wondered if its exoskeleton did more than provide power to its wings.

When it saw me approaching, it panicked, jerking its head away and flailing its legs. Its wings could do nothing more than twitch.

I retrieved the pouch of salt from my backpack and poured some crystals into my cupped hand. Speaking softly, I offered some to the gryphon, lifting my hand to its beak. It strained its neck, trying to move its head further away, but its black tongue was dangling out and I rubbed some salt on the tip of it. Startled, it snapped its tongue back into its mouth. A moment later, though, it poked it out again, cautiously. I gave it a few more crystals. Its tongue went in and came back out again, quickly this time. The fear seemed to be draining from its eyes. I gave it some more.

As dusk fell, I divided my time between dispensing salt and splicing wires back together. I could see now that the muscles beneath the exoskeleton had withered away. They were no longer capable of supporting the gryphon's weight or even flapping its wings. This must have had something to do with the gryphon's breathing, as well, which was still fast and shallow.

It didn't take long to repair the exoskeleton. Queen Scarlett had color-coded the wires for my convenience. When I joined the last two together, sparks flew. I had to move quickly to get out of the gryphon's way as it leapt to its feet and flexed its wings.

First, I'd given it salt, and now I'd restored its health. This seemed to be enough to make us friends. As I untied the reins, it lowered itself to the ground, offering me a ride. An empty scabbard dangled from the saddle. Slipping my ax into it, I leapt onto the gryphon's back and gave a whistle. We galloped down the onramp and lifted off into the sky.

Flying was an extraordinary sensation, but there was no time to enjoy it. Bim had taught me to whistle a few commands, but he couldn't tell me how to actually fly the gryphon.

Turning was simple: all I had to do was tug the reins right or left. Surprisingly, pulling back on the reins didn't seem to do anything at all.

I tried to come up with other commands. The cowboys in _Shane_ controlled their horses with their heels. When I dug mine into the gryphon's side, it went into a climb. Looking for a way to come out of it, I pulled back on the reins again. The gryphon leveled off. When I gave it two quick kicks, it went into a dive. I pulled back on the reins and it leveled off again.

Now in control, I headed for the Baltimore skyline. To the east, a rust-colored moon, two days past full, was rising over the ocean.

The Bank of America building glowed red against the night sky. Queen Scarlett had lit its peak with floodlights. The gryphon soared straight for it, expecting to land, and I had to tug hard and jab with my heels to change course. We veered down toward the street and leveled off about three stories up, circling the building.

King Wen's guess proved right. A huge cable ran north, up St. Paul Street, in the direction of the closest Dome. I let out a whistle and the gryphon came in for a landing.

Hopping to the ground, I pulled my ax from the scabbard. There was no way to be sure Bim and Dogan were inside yet, but they'd had enough time and I couldn't afford to wait any longer. Queen Scarlett had ordered me to surrender by nightfall.

I severed the cable with a single chop, sending a geyser of sparks into the air. The shock passed through me in an instant, up my arms and down my legs and into the ground beneath my feet. Feeling no worse for it, I pulled my ax free, hopped back on the gryphon, and took to the sky.

The Bank of America building was completely dark now. If Queen Scarlett had backup generators, they weren't producing electricity yet.

It was important to get inside quickly, during the initial confusion. We circled around and approached the building from the east. This time, I let the gryphon do as it pleased. It swooped toward the peak out of habit, preparing to land.

The peak of the Bank of America building didn't quite come to a point. The flat surface on top wasn't very big, but it was large enough for a gryphon's nest. They must have built it themselves, because it consisted of garbage. They had scavenged countless bits of paper, cardboard, plastic, rubber, fabric, wiring, insulation, fencing, and even a few mattresses, and woven it into a nesting place. Not surprisingly, it stunk to high heaven. As the gryphon hovered and eased itself down, I turned off my sense of smell.

The other gryphon eyed me warily as we landed, growing nervous when I leapt into the nest. I took a moment to give it a taste of salt and left the pouch for them to share.

One area, in the center of the nest, was free of debris. It housed a bulkhead that offered the only route down. The bulkhead doors were covered in spikes, presumably to keep the gryphons from sitting on them. I pulled them open and started down the stairs, carrying my ax.

I was confident that Queen Scarlett's living quarters would occupy the highest floor, and that her private laboratories would be found on the floors immediately below. I was also confident she hadn't taken Luma down to the dungeons. A special captive called for a special prison cell. I expected to find both of them close by.

As soon as I closed the bulkhead doors behind me, the world burst into rainbow colors. The peak, I discovered, was purely ornamental, a hollow shell. All it contained was a staircase fixed to the inside wall. Looking over the railing, I could see all the way to the bottom. Judging by the colors—shades of violet, indigo and blue—no soldiers were waiting to ambush me in the dark.

I wasn't expecting any. Queen Scarlett would attack me herself, with her soldiers standing by, in case things went badly. And she wouldn't face me in an even fight. She would try to gain the upper hand before the fight began.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was closed. Opening it a crack, I peered out into an empty hallway. I opened it a little more and looked past the hinges. No one was hiding behind it. I stepped out cautiously.

I knew Queen Scarlett wouldn't lay a trap for me in her living quarters, or choose to keep Luma there, but I had to confirm that her quarters were indeed on the top floor. There was a door directly opposite the elevator. I opened it and slipped through, closing it behind me.

Despite the risk, I retrieved Luma's flashlight from my backpack and switched it on. My rainbow world evaporated

I found myself in Queen Scarlett's bedroom. It was absurdly huge, almost as large as the gymnasium at school. The walls were decorated with hanging tapestries and the floor was thickly carpeted. In the center of the room, surrounded by drapes, stood a circular bed, 14 feet in diameter. It reminded me of Trip Savage's desk.

Opposite the bed, a section of wall had been left undecorated. This housed a bank of television screens, 15 rows of 15. Set into the wall above them was another screen, larger than all the others combined. I could picture Queen Scarlett stretched out on her ridiculous bed, remote in hand, keeping watch over her realm.

When I took a step forward, I felt something underfoot and picked it up. It was a teddy bear, quite heavy for its size, with a peculiar face. Aside from the fuzzy ears, it wasn't meant to be a bear's face at all. Instead of a snout, it had a human nose and mouth. The eyes were human, too, and surprisingly realistic. The lips had been sewn shut with a needle and thread.

Other teddy bears were scattered about on the floor. I took another look at Queen Scarlett's bed. There were dozens of pillows piled against the headboard, and more teddy bears lined up on top. I switched off the flashlight for a moment. Their bodies glowed green, giving off heat. Their faces were warmer still, yellow with patches of orange.

The teddy bear I was holding was dead, as were the others on the floor. The teddy bears on the bed were alive.

I switched the flashlight back on and walked over to the bed, training the beam on the row of teddy bears. They winced, swinging their eyeballs to the side, incapable of any other movement. I turned the beam away and set the flashlight down on the bed. Their eyes swung back to me.

I stepped over to the headboard and picked one up. Its eyes widened in terror and it tried to scream. With its lips stitched together, it could only produce a whimper. I scanned the row of teddy bears. All their mouths had been sewn shut.

There was nothing I could do to help them. I set down the teddy bear where I'd found it and switched off the flashlight, slipping it into my pocket.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Out in the hallway again, I experienced a moment of uncertainty. Should I let Queen Scarlett know I'd arrived? She'd given me until nightfall and that deadline had passed. Did it really make sense to tiptoe around, trying to sneak up on her?

The Oracle came to mind.

The city wall is scaled, but not won.

It's time to attack.

I decided it would be better to barge right into her trap, ready for a fight. At the very least, it would save time.

I found the stairwell and pounded down the steps to the floor below, banging my ax against the metal handrail for good measure. Exiting to the 36th floor, I let the door bang shut behind me.

The layout was the same as the top floor, except that the ceilings weren't as high. I took a left and stopped at the first door I came to, rattling the knob and calling Luma's name. Receiving no answer, I continued down the hallway, repeating the same procedure at every door. Queen Scarlett would have to be deaf not to know I was coming.

I was beginning to think the floor was deserted when I heard Luma call to me. "Teo, is that you?"

Her voice was coming from just up the hallway.

I hurried toward the next doorway. "Luma, are you all right?"

"I'm not sure! I think she broke my arm! It really hurts!"

As I approached, I could see that the door was standing open. "Where's Queen Scarlett?"

"I don't know! She locked me up and left and then the lights went out! Get me out of here!"

I stopped outside the doorway. "Where did you hide Moto's registration papers?"

" _What?"_

"The other night, at home. Where did you hide them?"

'Teo, just _help_ me!"

"Where did you hide them?"

No answer.

Queen Scarlett came through the doorway swinging her sword, a whirlwind of red, orange and yellow. Night vision goggles covered her eyes. She was reliving the Aspen Domes, as hoped.

Even though I was expecting her, I had to move quickly. I managed to duck under the blade, but I felt it graze my hair. An instant later, it came back the other way and I had to duck even lower. Then I had to duck a third time, which left me in a squat.

With nowhere left to go, I blocked the fourth swing with my ax. The blades clashed and mine sliced hers in two. The severed end went clattering across the floor.

This surprised us both, but she let it distract her. As she stared at the stump of her sword in disbelief, I pulled Luma's flashlight from my pocket and switched it on.

She grabbed for her goggles, too late. The beam hit her square in the face, blinding her. I sprang to my feet and drove my fist into her stomach. She was wearing some sort of armor beneath her robes and didn't feel the blow. I chose a more vulnerable spot, delivering an uppercut to her jaw, snapping her head back. She went over backwards and sprawled on the floor, unconscious.

Tossing the flashlight away, I straddled her chest, pinning her arms with my knees. I wrapped my hands around her neck, thumbs on her throat, and began to squeeze.

The flashlight beam lit the hallway well enough for me to see a dozen soldiers at the far end, armed with spears. They made no effort to stop me.

Images flashed through my mind: Bannion strangling his wife's killer; Shane shooting the gunslingers dead; Luma's face turning blue; the Ten Commandments painted on a bed sheet. Lewis's words came back to me, too, and even Queen Scarlett's: _Oughtn't you reach some conclusions before you start killing people?_ I still hadn't reached any conclusions, but my time was up.

Queen Scarlett's eyes flickered. I pressed my thumbs harder. She started making croaking sounds. The awareness seeped back into her eyes and turned to panic as she realized what was happening. She struggled frantically but she didn't have the strength to break free.

Gradually, she stopped struggling. Her face was gray now, and her eyes were unfocused. I was watching her die.

I released my thumbs enough to let her gulp some air.

I couldn't kill her. Instead of rage, I was experiencing a new emotion, one that wasn't hard to identify: pity. And it was suddenly clear to me that I had no right to take her life, or anyone else's.

I couldn't kill her, but _she_ didn't know that.

Her eyes were back in focus now. I put pressure on her throat, cutting off her air again.

I said, "Swear it on your life! Swear it or you'll die right here! Swear you'll never harm Luma again!"

I let her take a breath.

She gasped out the words. "I swear..."

I cut off her air again. "You give me your word? No lies, no tricks?"

She nodded.

I released my thumbs. "Promise me!"

She gasped again. "I promise..."

I removed my hands from her throat. The moment I did this, her soldiers rushed me. They yanked me off and slammed me face first onto the floor, shackling my hands and feet.

For a long while, Queen Scarlett just lay in place, sucking in air. When her breathing returned to normal, she jumped to her feet. I thought she would come right at me, but she went at her soldiers first, locking eyes with each man in turn, making her displeasure exceedingly clear.

Then she turned her attention to me, squatting by my side. "That's the second time you should have killed me, Teo. If you don't have the gumption, just stay home, for God's sake! Take up knitting or something."

"Where is she?"

"Not so fast." She turned to one of her soldiers. "Start the generators."

He hurried away toward the stairwell.

Queen Scarlett unzipped my backpack and fished out the only item left inside: Moto's remote. Then she rolled me onto my back, smiling slightly. "Remember our little game of Monkey in the Middle? It seems a long time ago, doesn't it?"

I found this surprising. "Are we friends all of a sudden? I thought we were enemies."

"Not enemies, Teo. Adversaries."

"There's a difference?"

"An enemy is someone you hate. An adversary? It's the next best thing to a friend, really."

"A friend you can kill."

"It's not like I'm opening you up for the _fun_ of it, Teo. I just need your TEO's. You understand that, don't you?"

I nodded.

She sighed. "I know you know how to build them. Your put one in your iPup. Why don't you just teach me? Perhaps then I wouldn't have to open your skull."

I shook my head.

"No? All right, but don't say I didn't offer."

The emergency lights snapped on. Queen Scarlett slipped Moto's remote into her robes and stood up, addressing her soldiers. "Take him to Lab 3. Strap him to the operating table."

As a pair soldiers hoisted me from the floor, she reached down and picked up my ax. She ran her thumb along the blade, thinking aloud. "Hmm. I was going to fetch another sword, but I think this will do nicely."

Moto must have raced up the stairwell, all 36 floors. She rounded the corner and charged the two soldiers holding me. The one gripping my ankles staggered backwards as Moto slammed his legs from behind, buckling his knees. She rebounded off the wall and drove her head into the other one's belly, doubling him over. They let me drop.

By then, Queen Scarlett had Moto's remote in hand. As Moto whirled to face her, she hit the power button. Moto looked my way as she curled up, her expression a mixture of surprise and sadness and guilt. Then she was asleep.

The two fallen soldiers climbed to their feet and hoisted me from the floor again. Queen Scarlett turned to a third, saying, "You! Bring the pooch!"

She headed straight for the elevator, striding past the stairwell. Most of the soldiers detoured down the stairs, but the ones carrying me and Moto continued on behind her. When we reached the elevator, Queen Scarlett pushed the down button. As we waited for the elevator to make its way up from the subbasement, she hummed a little tune.

When the doors finally opened, Dogan came out swinging his bat. He had the element of surprise and landed a blow near Queen Scarlett's ribs. She didn't feel it.

He should have taken another quick swing, at her head this time. Instead, he brandished the bat, shouting, "Give Luma back or I'll—"

She kicked his feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. He whacked the back of his skull and lay still, gazing up in bewilderment. She placed her foot on his chest and raised the ax, preparing to chop off his head.

Then she lowered it, frowning in thought, and gave him a swift kick in the temple. Turning to the soldier carrying Moto, she said, "Drop the mutt and chain him hand and foot."

The soldier took her literally, tossing Moto carelessly to the floor and unhooking the shackles from his belt.

As all this was happening, I watched Bim exit the elevator, carrying the shock wand. He walked calmly down the hallway, disappearing around the corner. No one else noticed him.

The elevator doors started to close and Queen Scarlett stuck her foot in the way, bouncing the doors back.

She turned to the soldiers holding me. "Sometime this month would be nice!"

They carried me inside.

She addressed the third soldier, who'd finished shackling Dogan. "Bring them both."

He threw Dogan over his shoulder and grabbed Moto by the hind leg, dragging her behind him into the elevator.

Queen Scarlett pushed the button for the 35th floor and the doors closed. A few seconds later, they opened again and we all got off. She had used the elevator to go down one flight.

She led us down the hallway and into Lab 3. The soldiers who'd taken the stairs were standing at attention in the outer room, spears at their sides. Queen Scarlett walked past them without a glance, passing through the inner doorway, into the laboratory itself.

The first thing I saw as they carried me in was a large steel cage, bolted to the rear wall. Luma jumped to her feet and rushed forward, grabbing the bars, crying, "Teo!"

Then the two soldiers turned me around and hoisted me onto the operating table and I couldn't see her anymore.

As they strapped me down, I called out to her. "Luma, are you all right?"

Her voice had a rasp to it. "Yeah, except I have a headache and I'm dying of thirst!" She addressed Queen Scarlett. "Miss Veiny, would you please just let me have the VaporFlask? Please?"

Queen Scarlett was standing at the foot of the table, supervising her soldiers. She glanced at Luma indifferently. "I'm not your art teacher, dearie, and you can drink what's in the bucket, like everyone else."

"But it smells awful!"

"If you're unhappy with your accommodations, rest assured you won't be here long."

The two soldiers finished strapping me down and Queen Scarlett dismissed them. As soon as they'd left, the third soldier stepped hesitantly into the lab, still carrying Dogan over his shoulder and dragging Moto. "Forgive me, your Majesty! Would you like them in here with you?"

"Throw the doggie on the desk and put the boy down over there."

The soldier slung Moto onto the desktop and lowered Dogan to the floor. As he propped him up against the wall, Luma realized who it was, saying, "Oh no..."

Queen Scarlett turned to her. "Oh yes. Three down, one to go." She leaned over me. "The village idiot's here too, I dare say."

I didn't reply.

"I'll take that as a yes. Cassius sent you on quite the fool's errand, didn't he?"

"You mean Dogan's father was never here."

"I don't know. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. I don't ask their names. But he isn't here now." She ran her thumb along the ax blade again. "I think Cassius made the whole thing up, don't you?"

I agreed with her, but I didn't care to show it.

She said, "Well, enough chitchat. To be honest, I find the conversation a bit one-sided."

Dogan groaned and his eyes opened a little.

Queen Scarlett glanced at him over her shoulder. "Oh, good, he's coming around. I want him to see this." She looked past me, at Luma. "You, too, pumpkin. No arguments, please." She returned her gaze to me. "The offer stands. Teach me how to make TEO's and your head stays on for now."

"Sorry."

"Then at least shut yourself down. What's the point of experiencing your own decapitation?"

I shook my head, forcing my eyes to stay on hers. Bim was tiptoeing through the open doorway, shock wand extended, the indicator light flashing red.

I spoke just to distract her. "You swear you won't harm Luma."

She rolled her eyes. "How many times do you want me to say it?"

Bim was moving silently toward her.

"I need to be sure."

She sighed, placing her hand over her heart. "I swear she will live out her natural life in excellent health."

Bim drew nearer.

I said, "Wait a minute. Are you saying you're going to keep her _here?"_

She shrugged. "You never said a word about letting her go."

Bim was almost within reach.

I held her gaze. "But keeping her here is harmful, in and of itself."

Queen Scarlett smiled. "An interesting argument. I'll take it under advisement."

She spun around suddenly, confronting Bim. "Hello, stupid! I suppose you think you're invisible."

As he lunged at her, she smacked the shock wand out of his hand, sending it skittering across the floor. Then she lifted him by the throat with one arm. "Everything about you annoys me! You're definitely next to go!"

She flung him backwards into the wall. He slammed against it and dropped to the floor, stunned.

If we had any hope left at all, it was Thomas, wherever he was.

The Oracle came to mind.

The assemblage first wept, then laughed.

The great armies finally clash.

This was of no use whatsoever.

Queen Scarlett stepped over to Bim and leaned down, slapping his cheeks forehand and backhand. As he propped himself on his elbows, she said, "Rise and shine, birdbrain! The show's about to begin!"

She stepped back to the operating table. Gripping the ax with both hands, she took aim at my neck, saying, "I guess this is goodbye, then..."

At that moment, I could see in her expression the friendless little girl she once was.

A wave of stagnant water came from behind me, slapping Queen Scarlett in the face and soaking her robes. Luma had hurled the contents of her bucket through the bars of the cage, dousing Queen Scarlett from head to toe. Water streamed off of her, pooling at her feet. It began wending its way toward a drain set into the floor, close to where Bim was lying.

Queen Scarlett froze for a moment, then tipped her head back and laughed. She wiped the water from her eyes with her index finger and looked at Luma. "You silly little twit! Did you think I was made of sugar?"

When Luma didn't answer, she went on. "I know, I know, everyone says Queen Scarlett can't stand water. Honestly! I don't know how that rumor got started!"

Luma burst into tears and began to plead with her. "Please, Miss Veiny! Please, please, please don't kill Teo! You can't! You just can't!"

I knew how Luma sounded when she was really crying and how she sounded when she was faking. This was an odd mixture of both. And then I realized what she was up to.

Unfortunately, it all depended on quick thinking by Dogan.

The shock wand had come to rest at his feet. He was watching Luma, but I managed to catch his eye. The water had reached the drain now, and I kept looking from the shock wand to Bim, from the shock wand to Bim, again and again. All I got in return was a blank look.

Luma held Queen Scarlett's attention, launching into hysterics now. _"You can't kill Teo! You can't!_ _You can't! I love him more than anything else in the whole world!"_

Queen Scarlett contorted her face, mocking Luma. _"Don't kill him! Don't kill him! I love him! I love him!"_

Along with these words, I just blurted it out: "Dogan, kick the shock wand to Bim!"

When Dogan finally understood, his reflexes took over. Ankles chained, he swung both legs together and sent the shock wand spinning across the floor, straight into Bim's hands.

Queen Scarlett might have reacted quickly enough, had she taken us seriously. Instead, she turned away from Luma, eyeing me peevishly. "Who told you to speak?"

As she said this, the meaning of my words sank in. She whipped her head around just as Bim dashed the shock wand into the pool of water. Jagged blue bolts shot out across the floor, striking her feet.

Queen Scarlett dropped to the ground, paralyzed, her face frozen in a look of astonishment. My ax was still locked in her grasp.

Bim jumped up and slammed the door to the outer room, throwing the bolt, locking out the soldiers. They immediately began pounding, trying to force their way in.

I addressed Bim urgently. "Queen Scarlett is wearing some sort of exoskeleton! You have to get her out of it before the shock wears off!"

I could tell by Queen Scarlett's eyes that she understood my words. Fear flooded into them.

Bim hiked her robes up around her neck, revealing a blood-red bodysuit beneath. A heavy metal seam ran down the front, from collarbone to groin. Bim tried to get his fingers into it and pull it apart, but quickly gave up.

Luma figured it out first. "Teo, that thing in her box! Where did you put it?"

"It's in the left front pocket of my pants."

Bim stepped over Queen Scarlett and fished it out. As he held it up, examining it, I saw the shock in her eyes.

Bim started pushing buttons, watching the readout on its tiny screen. "I can't unlock it. She has a password."

I relayed this to Luma and Dogan. "We have to guess her password. Call out anything that comes to mind."

Dogan yelled out, "Babe Ruth!"

Luma said, "Dogan, it has to be something _she_ would think of."

I said, "Try Aspen."

Bim punched it in, without success.

Luma said, "How about Carla?"

A brilliant guess, but incorrect.

The soldiers were pounding the door with something heavy now.

I said, "Try Veiny!"

I didn't expect it to work and it didn't.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Luma said, "I was only half awake, but she called her gryphon the stupidest name I've ever heard! What was it?"

Bim and I looked at each other, speaking at the same time. "Droogie!"

He punched it in, then shook his head, perplexed.

Luma said, "No, that wasn't it! It was Schmoogie!"

There was a brief silence and then she and Dogan exploded into laughter. Luma managed to gasp out "Droogie and Schmoogie!" Dogan writhed around on the floor, chains jangling, laughing so hard he wasn't making any sound at all.

They stopped laughing when the door buckled.

Queen Scarlett was watching Bim as he punched in "Schmoogie," her eyes wild with terror.

The exoskeleton burst open with a blast of air, and an indescribable stench filled the lab. Bim turned his head as he pulled the seams apart. The naked body within was shriveled and frail.

The door buckled some more.

To our horror, blood began to seep from every surface of Queen Scarlett's body, through the pores in her skin. Then it started gushing from her mouth and nose. Unable to sit up, she began to drown in it.

The door came off its hinges, slamming down flat on the floor, and soldiers rushed into the laboratory. They stopped short when they saw Queen Scarlett.

She was beyond all help, dissolving in a river of blood, eyes unfocussed. The blood overflowed the confines of her bodysuit and streamed across the laboratory floor, pooling around the drain. Bones were appearing now and even these were turning to yellow foam.

Bim appeared at my side. I said, "What's happening to her?"

"Her exoskeleton was pressurized. It's supposed to decompress before she takes it off."

"For how long?"

"That depends on how long she's been wearing it. Hours. Maybe days."

"And we just blew it open."

"Yes."

The cascade of blood slowed and gradually stopped. Whatever hadn't pooled in her bodysuit completed its journey down the drain with a final gurgle. All that was left of her was a mush of organs and muscle tissue and liquefied bone. Her skull had caved in on itself and her jagged gold crown now rested on a mound of blood-soaked hair, its metal dyed red.

I looked at the soldiers. Most of them were throwing down their spears and shedding their armor, preparing to desert. Only one soldier seemed to be reacting in anger, but he was the most imposing by far, and the markings on his uniform suggested he was their commander. He stood almost 7 feet tall. Matching scars ran down his cheeks.

He had stepped in front of the doorway, spreading his arms and blocking it, and now he was glaring at the other soldiers. One by one, they became aware of this and stopped what they were doing. Silence fell over the room.

The Commander stepped forward and began to speak, his voice hushed.

"What do you think you're doing?" He paused, looking from man to man. "What do you think you're doing? Is it wise to leave these children where they are?"

I thought he was going to make the case for executing us.

He raised his voice. "Is it wise to toss aside your arms and flee? What will you do next? Run up and down the hallways, telling everyone what's just happened?" He pointed to his head and shouted, _"Think!_ For God's sake, just for once, _think!_ "

He paused again. When he resumed, his voice was back under control. "Now. Somebody has to take care of these children. Who here is man enough to do it?"

Even the soldiers seemed unsure of his meaning. Finally, one of them timidly raised his hand.

The Commander reached for his belt. "Step forward!"

He unhooked a large metal ring and flipped through the keys on it, until he found the right one. He held it up to the soldier, tipping his head at Luma's cage. "Ladies first."

The soldier crossed the room, disappearing behind me. I heard the lock turn and the door swing open. Luma said, "Thank you! Thank you very much!"

The Commander addressed the soldier again, nodding at me. "The green key with the notches opens the shackles."

The soldier freed my hands and feet and Luma began unbuckling my straps. The soldier removed Dogan's shackles, as well, and returned the key ring to the Commander. Dogan climbed to his feet.

Everyone stood in silence, waiting. The Oracle came to mind again.

A gathering at a ritual in the field.

No grudges.

The Commander began to speak again, the anger gone from his voice now.

"We're all thankful Queen Scarlett is dead, but this isn't the time to start acting on impulse. You are going to put your armor back on and pick up your spears and march out of here as if nothing has happened, do you understand me? Go about your business, walk your patrols, do whatever you would normally do. Is that clear?"

The soldiers all nodded.

"I will dispose of what's left of her and lock down this laboratory. The longer we can keep her death a secret, the more we can accomplish before the GR replaces her. Even a few days would be a godsend. I'll get a boat out to the _Lincoln._ I've got people I can trust."

He pressed his fingertips together, raising them to his chin. "But most of all, I'm placing my trust in _you._ You mustn't say a single word about this to anyone, under any circumstances. There are GR spies all over this building and they will ruin everything if we give them the chance." He paused once more. "I know you won't let me down." He raised his hand in salute. "Dismissed!"

As the soldiers retrieved their spears and armor, the Commander came toward us. I hopped down from the table. We all waited for him in a line, like his soldiers.

He stopped at the foot of the operating table and looked us over. Then he smiled for the first time. "I have to admit, I never dreamed _children_ would put an end to her."

Luma rushed to explain herself. "Wait, wait, you don't understand! We weren't _trying_ to kill her! We really just came here to find Dogan's father and then she kidnapped me and everyone came to rescue me and it just kind of...happened."

He shook his head, still smiling. "Of course you didn't mean to. Had you _wanted_ to kill her, you never would have succeeded. Now, is there anything we can do for you in return?"

Luma said, "I'm really thirsty..."

He nodded. "We can certainly do something about that."

I said, "We need to get back to Washington, DC, as soon as possible."

The Commander frowned. "I'm afraid I can't help you there."

"That's okay, we're going to fly back. But we have to be there before 9:30 PM and it's 8:07 now."

Luma and Dogan were staring me in disbelief.

I said, "That's right, we're taking Droogie and Schmoogie. But we should leave here by 8:30, at the latest."

The Commander nodded. "Taking the gryphons will actually help. We can claim she's away on a raid."

Luma held up her hand. "Wait a minute, wait a minute! Are we _sure_ Dogan's father isn't here?"

Dogan said, "He wasn't in the dungeons. We looked everywhere."

"Okay, but shouldn't we search the rest of the building, just in case?"

She was absolutely right, of course, aside from the fact that he wasn't here.

Bim said, "I imagine they keep records."

I turned to the Commander. "Do you have records on all the captives?"

"Only on the ones the GR sends. Not the ones the LobeBots drag in."

"Dogan's father was probably sent down from the Arctic."

"They're _all_ sent down from the Arctic. When would this have been?"

"He was supposedly killed on September 2nd, 2171."

"So within the last two years, give or take."

"Yes."

The Commander sighed. "All the records are kept on third floor. You'd need a couple of hours to go through them. And I'm not sure how much light there is down there at the moment."

Luma spoke up. "I have a flashlight and we could all go through them together. That would speed things up, wouldn't it?"

The Commander said, "We're getting ahead of ourselves. I process all the captives myself. Maybe I remember him. What was his name?"

"His name is—" She reddened. "Uh, I don't actually know his _first_ name..."

Dogan said, "His name is Harold Nath."

The Commander looked surprised. "His name is _Harold?_ That's my name, too! My mother named me after Harold Land."

I looked up "Land, Harold." No entry.

Dogan said, "Then you remember him!"

The Commander shook his head. "Believe me, if any Harolds had come through, I would've noticed."

Dogan looked dejected.

The Commander said, "You should be _happy_ he wasn't sent here!"

"I guess. But how are we going to find him now?"

I said, "All we need is access to the DataStream." I turned to the Commander. "Does Queen Scarlett have it here?"

He gave me a look. _"Queen Scarlett?_ They'd have to be mad!"

I turned to the Three. "We've done all we can here. We have to get back to Washington. Luma, I know you're thirsty. Can you make do with the VaporFlask until we get there?

She nodded.

I looked at Bim. "Do you think you can fly a gryphon?"

He shrugged.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A gigantic, red-orange moon was hanging in the sky as we lifted off from the gryphon's nest. Luma shared Droogie's saddle with me, at my insistence, seated behind me with her arms clamped around my waist. Dogan shared Schmoogie's saddle with Bim, sitting in back. He was spared the indignity of holding onto Bim's waist, using his arms instead to cradle Moto, who remained asleep.

Flying with the Three helped me experience the thrill of it. Luma didn't know whether to laugh or scream and ended up blending the two sounds into one. Disguising his fear, Dogan whooped and hollered as though his team had just won the big game. Bim wore a silent smile, wider than I'd ever seen.

The gryphons soared along gracefully as the landscape rolled by below, bathed in rust colored moonlight. The geometric structures of Baltimore and its suburbs quickly gave way to countryside. We sailed southward, following the glowing green scar of I95.

When we neared the Washington Dome, we veered away from the highway and approached it at its northern rim, swooping in through UNK/C's hole. We skimmed across the Fruitlands, just above the treetops, following the path the helicopters had taken. Droogie and Schmoogie touched down on South Lawn at 9:22 PM.

The gryphons were clearly hungry now. As we tied their reins to the trees, they tried to fill their stomachs with shriveled blue leaves. The Three set off for the White House kitchen, in search of shay and breadfruit, and I set off for the Nightingale Clinic, carrying Moto and my ax, in search of a bed.

Dr. Nightingale greeted me cheerfully, working away at her looms, back in good spirits. She asked about my ax, which had been stained with Queen Scarlett's blood. It was now two-toned, red on one side and silver on the other, as though painted that way. Unaware these were bloodstains, she told me it looked pretty.

She asked if I knew where Thomas had disappeared to. I told her in all honesty that I hadn't any idea, and left it at that. By then, it was 9:26. I excused myself and went into the Green Room, choosing the same bed I'd taken the night before. Placing Moto at the foot, I stowed my ax and backpack below and climbed under the covers.

I spent the remaining minutes thinking about Thomas. The last time Bim and Dogan had seen him, the emergency power had just snapped on. He had already led them through the blackness to the elevator. It had been his idea for them to wait inside until Queen Scarlett called it to her floor, and for Dogan to strike first, allowing Bim to slip off unnoticed. He never mentioned what he planned to do himself.

Had he followed them up? Had he waited and listened out in the hallway, prepared to intervene if the situation became hopeless? He couldn't have, because the situation _had_ become hopeless. No, he must have sent Bim and Dogan up and walked off into the night.

I don't think there's anything here to draw him back to DC. He'll probably find another city with a larger clinic and serve a purpose there. In all likelihood, I'll never see him again.

I have no idea why this should trouble me so.

Entry complete.

### Part Five: Cassius

### Chapter 13

10.23.2173.9:29PM

I booted up at 5:30 AM and sat up, reassured to find the Three sleeping soundly in their beds. Careful not to wake them, I arose and headed for the South Lawn.

Droogie and Schmoogie were sound asleep, too, heads tucked under their wings. The Three had done well rustling up food: the gryphons were surrounded by breadfruit husks and bits of shay.

I had neglected to ask Geff where he lived, so I jogged across the Mall toward the Lincoln Memorial, hoping to meet someone there who could tell where to find him. As I approached the monument, though, I spied Geff himself at the foot of the steps, slumped in his wheelchair. To my surprise, he was all alone.

When I reached him, his eyes were closed. It took me a moment to figure out that he was actually inside, meeting with Cassius. Not wishing to disturb him, I waited.

A couple of minutes later, Daniel emerged from the Memorial chamber and started down the steps. As he reached the foot of the staircase, Geff opened his eyes. He stared at me for a moment. _"Funny, we were just talking about you. You weren't in Baltimore very long."_

"It seemed long to us. We'd like to see Cassius today, if at all possible."

Daniel took his place, behind Geff. _"He wants to see you, too. Can the four of you be here at 8 AM?"_

This didn't seem right. I said, "I feel like we keep cutting in line."

" _Don't worry about it."_

"But I thought all men were created equal."

" _Yeah, sure. But you underestimate your own importance."_

"Does Cassius ever let other people cut in line?"

Geff sounded impatient. _"No, that's the whole point! You're the exception to the rule!"_

I still didn't like it.

I said, "We'll be here at 8 AM."

The time was 5:47 AM. I couldn't see any reason to hurry back to the White House, so I wandered east, across the Mall, with no destination in mind. Monday morning in DC didn't seem any different than Sunday morning. The whole world was asleep.

As I passed the Smithsonian Castle, I considered dropping in on King Wen, but I wasn't sure I wanted my fortune read again. Hexagram 13 had been astonishingly accurate, but what good had it done me? And it wasn't my real fortune, anyway. I thought back on Hexagram 9, the one that had predicted my past.

It rained and it cleared.

A carriage picks you up.

Danger for a woman.

After the full moon,

Misfortune for a gentleman.

The realization brought me to a sudden halt: Hexagram 9 _had_ predicted the future. In hindsight, the lines clearly referred to yesterday's events. We had waited out the thunderstorm on the John Phillip Souza Bridge. When the skies had cleared, Humphrey arrived to take us to Baltimore. And the woman in danger was obviously Luma.

The last two lines weren't so obvious. Were they a reference to my own capture and near-execution? Or even to the fact that we had failed to find Dogan's father? Or did _after the full moon_ mean that _misfortune for a gentleman_ was still off in the future?

As I drifted further east, toward the Capitol Building, Thomas crossed my mind again. I tried to imagine what it would be like to never sleep. My life had always been structured by school and work and 8 hours of shutdown. My free time, such as it was, had been spent watching TV. Now, I was experiencing what Thomas had spoken of. With nothing specific to do, I felt a sense of pointlessness creeping up, and there was no television to distract me.

I was approaching the eastern edge of the Mall. In my father's memory, the Capitol Building was a magnificent marble edifice with a majestic dome and sweeping rows of columns. Studying it for the first time, I discovered that the memory didn't quite match. All the columns along the façade, and the dome itself, were oddly puffy and featureless, as though wrapped in bandages.

At 5X, I got a closer look at these wrappings. It must have taken days on end and thousands of rolls, but the Potomac Clan had swaddled the Capitol Building in toilet paper. Fixed to the edge of the roof was a simple message written in gigantic letters. It read: NO LEADERS. At 10X, I could see that these letters had been fashioned out of cardboard tubes, empty toilet paper rolls joined end-to-end and side-to-side.

I turned around and headed west, walking with a sense of purpose now. It was 6:51 AM, about the time the Three would normally get up for school. Assuming they hadn't stayed up all night, they were probably beginning to stir.

When I got back to the South Lawn, Bim was sitting with Droogie and Schmoogie. The gryphons were awake now, as well, licking salt from the stewpot Bim had filled.

As I approached, Bim looked up. "What time is Cassius expecting us?"

I sat down facing him. "8 AM. He's putting us first."

Bim nodded. "He knows he owes us an explanation."

"He sent us there to kill Queen Scarlett, didn't he?"

"So it seems."

"But why?"

Bim shrugged. "There's no denying the world's better off."

"No, I mean why _now?_ She's been causing misery for decades."

"That's fairly obvious."

"It is?"

"Yes, Teo. It's because of you."

That didn't make much sense. "But I _didn't_ kill her. I couldn't do it. I almost got my head chopped off."

"Those were the choices you made. The fact remains she was no match for you. You could have killed her a dozen times if you'd wanted to."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You were designed by Joseph Clay, Teo. You can do things no one else can do, not even MediTrons. You're stronger and faster and smarter than anyone else on earth."

"Bim, _please._ Enough. All I've done is make mistakes."

"You don't seem to realize how much potential you have."

This had a familiar ring.

I said, "Wait a minute. Did Cassius tell you that?"

Bim paused, looking embarrassed. "Either way, it's true."

I hadn't meant to put him on the spot.

I changed the subject. "Did you get that salt at the cafeteria?"

He nodded.

"Is that where Luma and Dogan are?"

"Yes. We found a tub of blue pudding. Dogan's gorging himself on it."

"What did you guys do last night, after I shut down?"

"We found the cooks and told them about the gryphons. They asked how they'd gotten here and Dogan almost spilled the beans, but Luma stopped him. She told them the gryphons had escaped on their own."

"And they believed her?"

"More or less."

"Do Luma and Dogan know Cassius set us up?"

Bim nodded. "They knew it before we left Washington."

"What are you talking about?"

"Cassius came right out and said it."

"Said what?"

"That they should be prepared to kill Queen Scarlett in order to save Dogan's father. He swore them to secrecy, of course, but they talked about it last night."

This explained why they were so out of sorts after the meeting.

I said, "Given what you know of Cassius, aren't you surprised he would say such a thing?"

"Not necessarily."

"But you agree Cassius is a man of peace."

Bim shrugged. "Under normal circumstances. When it comes to Queen Scarlett, all bets are off."

"Do you think Cassius knows she's dead?"

"Well, the fact we returned is a pretty good indication."

"But how did he even know _that?"_

"He probably watched us fly home."

"Watched us? How?"

"He watches drone transmissions whenever he wishes. He sees whatever they see. He can even take control."

"Really?"

"That's how he planted all the trees and underbrush and grass. He would land GR drones and load them up with seeds and send them back into the sky."

I found this surprising. "The GR didn't stop him?"

"They never even knew it was happening. It's not unusual to lose contact with a drone for a few minutes, and they have thousands of them. Little glitches are overlooked or ignored."

"Cassius engineered all the blue vegetation, correct?"

"Right."

"So he must know a great deal about horticulture."

"Don't forget you're talking about the original Cassius. The planting began right after the Great Starvation."

Just then, Luma and Dogan emerged from the East Room doorway and started toward us, down the stairs. Dogan was holding his stomach, looking a little green. We got up and went to meet them.

As we approached, Luma said, "Hey, Teo. Where'd you run off to?"

"I went looking for Geff."

"How come?"

"To set up a meeting with Cassius."

She made a sour face. "Did you find him?"

"Yes."

"And...?"

"Cassius is expecting us at 8 AM."

"What time is it now?"

"7:17. We should get going soon."

She held up her hand. "Not so fast! What if I don't _want_ to see him?"

Dogan spoke up. "Yeah, what if I think he's a total jerk?"

I said, "I can't blame you for feeling that way, but I don't think you understand who Cassius is."

Luma gave me a look. "Who he _is?_ Nobody knows who he is!"

"I mean you don't understand what he's _done."_

She crossed her arms. "Okay, then. What?"

"For the past 100 years, he's been providing everyone Outside with food and water and medicine, without asking anything in return."

Luma frowned. "100 years? Then he has to be more than one person. That's even weirder."

"The point is, we should at least give him a chance to explain himself."

Dogan said, "Why? So he can lie in our faces again?"

"We don't know for a fact that he lied, and he's still our best hope of finding your father."

As Dogan was trying to absorb this, Luma said, "All right, fine, I'll go! But on one condition: we all see Cassius together. No more of this one-at-a-time, swear-not-to-tell nonsense! Okay?"

We were all in agreement on that.

There was just enough time for me to run back into the White House and wake up Moto, who was still asleep at the foot of my bed. I hurried into the Green Room and got out her remote, reminding myself that she'd been shut down in the heat of battle.

As soon as I hit the power button, she leapt to her feet and crouched, preparing to spring. Then she looked about the room in confusion.

I said, "It's okay, Moto. We're back in DC. Queen Scarlett is dead."

She relaxed somewhat, coming out of her crouch, but she checked the room a second time, just to be sure. Then she jumped down from the bed and trotted over to me. When I knelt down to greet her, she licked my face.

I said, "Come on, Moto, it's back to the Lincoln Memorial."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We arrived to find Geff still at the foot of the staircase, Daniel in place behind him. He was asleep but the MediTron gave his shoulder a gentle shake and his eyes opened.

He blinked a few times and said, _"Very punctual! Cassius is already there, waiting for you. Bim goes first."_

Dogan said, "Nice try!"

I said, "Calm down, Dogan." I turned back to Geff. "I'm sorry, but we'd prefer to go in together."

Geff didn't seem to care. _"It's a free country. If Cassius doesn't like it, he'll let you know."_

I turned to Moto. "You should probably wait out here."

She headed to the lounge area and hopped into an armchair.

The four of us climbed the steps together and slipped in through the opening. Cassius watched us cross the chamber, his expression solemn. We stopped at Lincoln's feet and waited.

Cassius said, **"I was hoping to see each of you separately, but perhaps it's better this way. First and foremost, I want to apologize for lying to you. I'm afraid it was avoidable. I had to get you to Baltimore."**

Dogan said, "Yeah, so we could kill Queen Scarlett for you!"

If Cassius was offended it didn't show. **"I understand how you feel, but please bear in mind that you** _didn't_ **kill Queen Scarlett. You were simply trying to open her bodysuit. It was an accident."**

Luma said, "But it worked out well for _you."_

" **It worked out well for a great many people. I won't pretend I'm unhappy about her death. Simply put, good has triumphed over evil. But that isn't why I sent you to Baltimore."**

I said, "You sent us there as a test."

Cassius smiled slightly. **"You're right, Teo, it** _was_ **a test, and not just of your own abilities. I needed to see all four of you in action. I had to test your** _combined_ **strength."**

Luma was skeptical. "What for?"

" **Now that Teo is finally awake, a very difficult road lies ahead. He'll need all the strength he can summon. And yesterday proved it: the four of you together are greater than the sum of your parts. With you three at his side, he'll have the additional strength he needs to prevail."**

I said, "What makes you so sure?"

" **Because the Oracle has foretold it, just as it foretold your victory in Baltimore. Just as it foretold your very creation."**

I was watching his eyes, trying to judge what lay behind them. "The last time we met, you said you knew my true purpose."

" **Indeed."**

"All right, then, what is it?"

" **Are you certain you want me to reveal it in front of the others?"**

"We have a rule: no secrets."

" **Very well. Your true purpose is to save the world, Teo. I mean that literally. If you don't bring down the GR and stop their madness, the oceans will boil away and every living thing on this planet will die. Earth will become a lifeless ball of dust."**

"You're telling me I'm supposed to defeat the GR, all across the globe, by myself."

" **You will have help."**

"You mean Luma, Bim and Dogan."

" **Others, as well, myself included. I didn't choose this destiny for you, Teo. Your father did."**

As Cassius spoke these words, I had sudden realization: it was pointless to stare at his hologram, trying to sort out fact from fiction. I would have to meet him face-to-face.

I said, "I'm sorry, but I find this impossible to take on faith."

" **What can I do to convince you?"**

"If I'm supposed to save the world, I need to know everything, including who you are and where you are. The same goes for Luma, Bim and Dogan."

Cassius hesitated. **"You ask a great deal."**

I said, "So do you."

He was silent for a long moment. Then he said, _"A tear felt queasy,"_ and vanished, leaving Lincoln headless.

Luma knitted her brows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I said, "It's a meeting place."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Geff was waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. As we reached the curb, he said, _"How'd it go?"_

I said, "Cassius disappeared. I don't think he'll be back anytime soon."

Geff seemed to take it in stride. _"Oh well, another disappointing day for the trailer folk."_

I turned to the Three. "We should sit down."

We all joined Moto in the lounge area. Luma and Dogan took the sofa, Bim and I took armchairs.

I spoke quietly. "Cassius gave us an anagram and I have to decipher it. It should only take a minute."

They settled into their seats.

A tear felt queasy.

It was only fifteen letters, but I hoped to avoid sorting through all possible combinations. The presence of Q and U was a big help, and there were only two other vowels, A and E. This limited the number of possible QU words. I set the word SQUARE aside and studied the remaining letters.

Since everything in Washington, DC, seemed to be named after someone famous, I searched the nine remaining letters for proper names. This sped up the process, and 23 seconds later I had an answer: LAFAYETTE.

Cassius wanted us to meet him in Lafayette Square, just north of the White House. It all made perfect sense, except for one thing: there was absolutely no reason for Cassius to be anywhere near Washington, DC.

I looked up to find the Three watching me. Luma's expression was troubled. Dogan still seemed angry. Bim just looked curious.

I didn't want to speak in front of Geff. I stood up abruptly, saying, "Come on, we have to get back to the White House."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and started across the Mall at a brisk walk.

Luma caught up with me first. "Teo, wait! _What_ is going on?"

I kept walking. "I'll tell you in a minute."

As we hurried along the Reflecting Pool, Dogan caught up. He was almost shouting. "This is _stupid!_ Are we trying to find my dad, or what?"

I said, "Hang on. We're going to sit down and talk this over."

I glanced over my shoulder. Bim and Moto were coming up behind us.

The World War Two Memorial was just up ahead. In my father's memory, the centerpiece was an elaborate oval fountain with twin geysers. Now, like the Reflecting Pool, it was bone dry. I led everyone through the Pacific archway to the fountain's edge, and we sat down in a row.

I said, "I understand how confusing this is. I don't know what to make of it, either. All I know is that I need to see Cassius's face—his _real_ face—when he makes these claims."

Dogan said, "Like that crap about boiling oceans!"

"Actually, I think that might be true." I turned to Bim. "What have you heard?"

"Everyone knows the smog cloud is heating up the planet. It just isn't clear how quickly."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma spoke softly. "But if that part's true maybe the rest is, too. We can't just sit back and let them destroy the world."

Dogan said, "I don't care about any of that! I just want to find my dad and Cassius is giving us the runaround!"

I said, "Maybe so, but right now he's waiting for us in Lafayette Square. Coming out of hiding is a tremendous risk. Are you saying you don't want to meet him?"

"I want to meet him, all right! I'll _make_ him tell me where my dad is!"

Luma shot him an exasperated look. "Oh, grow up!"

I said, "Dogan, you can't attack him. In fact, if you come along, you're not even allowed to speak. I'll do all the talking."

Luma was taken aback. "Of course he's coming along! We stick together!"

I turned to her. "Fair enough, but you'll have to keep quiet, too."

"Really?"

"Yes. Other people might be eavesdropping on us. We can't say a single word that might reveal who he really is."

Luma shrugged. "Whatever you say..."

I turned to Bim. "Do you have anything to add?"

"I just hope Luma and Dogan realize how extraordinary this is. To my knowledge, Cassius has never revealed his identity to anyone."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma looked suitably impressed.

Dogan gave me the raspberry.

I led the Three out through the Atlantic archway and over to 17th Street, heading north. Moto needed to stretch her legs, so I explained where we were going and told her to meet us there. She raced off southward.

No one spoke as we made our way to Lafayette Square. I suspected Dogan was giving me the silent treatment. Luma seemed lost in thought, and even Bim looked pensive.

As we walked east along Pennsylvania Ave., I could see that Andrew Jackson's statue had been removed from the center of the park. Presumably, he and his rearing stallion were now residing up at the archway. All that was left on the enormous pedestal were two rear hooves.

We entered Lafayette Square. The green shade trees and shrubs of my father's memory had been replaced with wild blue underbrush, and the walkways were thick with moss. There wasn't a soul to be seen anywhere.

We followed a path that curved around Jackson's pedestal and there he was, the real Cassius, waiting for us on a bench, dressed in the same frock coat he'd been wearing in the Ruins. He raised his cane, waving to us.

It was Gutenberg.

As we drew near, he smiled. "Hello, Teo, how nice to see you again."

I said, "It's nice to see you, too, Mr. Gutenberg. These are my friends, Luma, Bim and Dogan."

He nodded to the Three. "Good morning, children."

Bim nodded in return. Luma gave a little curtsey. Dogan just sneered.

I sat down next to Gutenberg and the Three lined up on an adjacent bench.

I said, "Do you know where Dogan's father really is?"

Gutenberg nodded. "He's been working in the farmlands ever since they sent him up."

"The farmlands are huge. Do you have a specific location?"

"They rotate workers constantly, but I know his serial number. I can certainly find out where he is at present. I might even be able to tell you where they're sending him next."

I was watching his eyes as he answered my questions. Something about them wasn't right.

I said, "How quickly do you believe the Earth is heating up?"

"Even the GR is being optimistic. They say thirty years until the oceans boil. My guess is twenty."

"If the GR knows what the smog cloud is doing, why don't they stop pumping it into orbit?"

"If they pumped it into the atmosphere, the air would become unbreathable. Not only that, the Earth would keep heating up, anyway."

"Then why don't they just shut down the Arctic power plants altogether?"

Gutenberg gave me a rueful smile. "Forgive me, Teo, but your question is a bit naïve. The GR rules the planet. That takes tanks and drones and helicopters and jets and ships and the fuel that moves them and the factories that produce them. They need factories to produce weapons and ammunition and basic supplies. They have to power thousands of Domes. They have to power the tractors that plow the fields and the combines that harvest the crops and the trains that transport the food. They even have to power the oilrigs that extract the oil that powers the oilrigs! They _can't_ stop!"

"What other choice do they have?"

"They can just keep on playing dumb. After all, no one in the Domes knows anything is amiss. By the time they find out, it won't matter, and the leadership will have transformed themselves."

"They're counting on someone replicating the TEO."

Gutenberg nodded. "They're planning on bailing out of their own bodies, and the sooner the better."

I still couldn't put my finger on what was wrong with Gutenberg's eyes. Whatever it was made them difficult to read, more difficult, even, than the hologram.

I said, "How can any one person, or group of persons, bring down the GR, worldwide? It's impossible."

Gutenberg shifted in his seat, transferring his cane from one hand to the other. "Suppose I were to tell you that there exists a room designed precisely for that purpose?"

"A room?"

"More accurately, a complex of rooms."

"Where?"

Gutenberg raised his eyebrows. "Therein lies the mystery."

"What makes you think such a place exists?"

"Joseph Clay helped redesign President Timberlake's underground control complex."

"The one Trip Savage retreated to."

Gutenberg shook his head. "No. _Not_ the one he retreated to. That one was just a decoy."

"You mean they built a second complex, in a different location."

"It wouldn't have been hard to do. At the time, the Washington Metro was undergoing renovations, which provided them the cover they needed. That's an established fact. A team of government contractors blended in with the Metro crews and constructed the first complex. After the renovations were complete, rumors began circulating that they'd built a second complex, as well. No one had any proof, though, and the rumors gradually died away."

"Do _you_ have proof?"

"None whatsoever. It's my fervent hope that you, Teo, will provide the proof."

"How can I possibly do that?"

"Finding that room and bringing down the GR is your destiny, the purpose for which you were built. Joseph Clay must have left clues to guide you there. Do you have any memories of the construction process, or the finished complexes?"

Just then, Moto rounded the pedestal and came bounding toward us. When she saw Gutenberg, she stopped short, skidding to a halt on the mossy walkway. She continued on at a walk and approached him cautiously.

I said, "Moto, you remember Mr. Gutenberg. We met him the other night in the Ruins."

She sniffed at his ankles and gave me a doubtful look.

I called her over and told her to sit. She obeyed my command reluctantly, her eyes fixed on Gutenberg.

I turned back to him. "You were saying...?"

"I was asking you if you had any memories of either complex."

Moto sprang, clamping her jaws onto Gutenberg's cane and yanking it from his grasp. She ran off with it in her mouth.

Gutenberg looked after her in shock. His face flickered and vanished, revealing another face beneath. It was instantly recognizable, even without the rimless spectacles.

I was staring at Mr. Wu.

He immediately buried his face in the crook of his arm, saying, "Teo, please! Tell her to bring it back! I _cannot_ afford to show my face here!"

For a moment, I was too surprised to do anything at all.

Mr. Wu's voice was muffled. "Teo, I am asking you as a friend! Just get my cane back and I'll explain everything!"

Moto hadn't gone far. I called to her. "All right, Moto, bring back the cane."

This puzzled her. She didn't move.

"Good work, Moto, you did the right thing, but now you have to return it."

She walked back to Mr. Wu and dropped the cane at his feet. He leaned down to retrieve it. The moment his hand touched it, Gutenberg's face reappeared over his own.

The Three had been stunned by this turn of events, but now Dogan jumped to his feet. He cried, "That does it!" and charged at Mr. Wu.

I had to throw myself in his path and lock him in a bear hug. Lifting him off the ground, I carried him back to his seat and plunked him down.

I said, "I know you're upset, but you still can't attack him." I turned to Mr. Wu. "Take us someplace where we can speak openly. No stalling and no tricks."

Mr. Wu stood up. "Very well. Follow me."

We exited Lafayette Square at the northwest corner, angled up Connecticut Ave., and turned left on I Street. Just before we reached 17th Street, Mr. Wu stopped in front of a nondescript opening in the side of the building.

"This is the old Farragut West Metro Station. When we get to the bottom of the escalator, I'll be more than happy to take off my disguise. Then we'll clear up this misunderstanding."

I said, "Fine, but I go first."

"Agreed."

I stepped into the shadows and peered down the escalator. Its motionless steps were strewn with trash and seemed to go on forever, disappearing into blackness.

Mr. Wu's voice came from behind. "The moss doesn't do well in here. May I turn on a Glorb?"

I nodded. A moment later, gentle light surrounded us. I led the way down.

If Mr. Wu was planning an escape, he didn't try it. We reached the platform without incident. True to his word, he twisted the handle of his cane and Gutenberg's face disappeared. He said, "Why don't we all sit down?"

Tracks ran down the center of the station, dividing the platform in half. High overhead, I could just make out the arched ceiling.

Mr. Wu led us across the platform to a row of metal benches fixed to the wall. He sat down. The four of us remained standing, instinctively forming a semicircle around him. Moto sat at our feet, ready for trouble.

Fishing his spectacles from the pocket of his frock coat, he put them on and studied our faces, unperturbed. "First of all, make no mistake: I am the real Cassius, as you will soon come to understand. But believe me when I tell you that I never intended to deceive you. You have to realize that I absolutely cannot be seen anywhere Outside, least of all here. If I were to be associated with Washington, DC, or Cassius, in any way, no matter how trivial, it could destroy everything we've built."

Dogan's tone was sarcastic. "So you got some gizmo to change your face and tried to fool us again."

Mr. Wu shook his head. "I had every intention of revealing my true identity. Unfortunately, Moto beat me to it. As for the gizmo, circumstances force me to travel to DC from time to time. I always appear here as Gutenberg, with his knowledge and consent. So my disguise had nothing to do with fooling you, and everything to do with protecting Cassius."

Luma was standing hands on hips. "The trouble is, once you tell _one_ lie, people stop trusting you."

Mr. Wu appeared contrite. "I apologize again for lying about Dogan's father. I intend to make it up to you. But, aside from that, everything I've told you—as Cassius or Gutenberg or myself—has been the absolute truth."

This didn't appease Dogan. "Oh yeah? Well I don't believe all that junk you said about us passing some kind of test! I think you were just trying to butter us up!"

"And why would I want to do that?"

"How the hell should I know?"

This seemed to be the extent of Dogan's argument.

I glanced at Bim. He said, "Ask about the original Cassius."

"Tell us how Cassius came into being in the first place."

Mr. Wu leaned back and placed his fingertips together. "Surely you've deduced _that._ My father, Wu Quon, was the original Cassius. He built the complex that's hidden beneath the DynaLink building."

"The one in Dome Nine?"

"Yes, the very building in which you worked."

On one level, this made sense: Wu Quon had been placed in charge of DynaLink's Philadelphia division at the age of 22, and he'd fathered Wu Peng, his youngest son, at the age of 59. Between them both, they covered the hundred-year span of Cassius's existence.

I said, "But what motivated him to do it?"

"You knew my father, Teo. Did he strike you as a compassionate man?"

"Anything but."

"Exactly. He presented himself to everyone who knew him—including his family—as a hateful, heartless man who valued power above all else. I never got a glimpse of who he really was until he chose me as his successor."

"But what motivated him?"

"It's funny, but I never asked him that question. His actions as Cassius displayed his true nature more clearly than words could ever have conveyed."

I'd been watching Mr. Wu's eyes as he gave his responses. I could see nothing in them beyond sincerity. I glanced at Bim again.

He said, "How about the vegetation?"

"How did your father acquire his expertise in horticulture?"

"Are you referring to the food supply Outside?"

"Yes."

"He had no expertise of any kind. What he _did_ have was an entire research division at his command, and more GR chits than one man could ever spend. Engineering the plants was the easy part. The trick was covering his tracks. But he was a master at playing one bureaucrat against another."

Bim said, "How can he and Cassius be in DC at the same time?"

"How is it possible for Cassius to keep making appearances while you're here in DC?"

Mr. Wu sighed. "As I'm sure you can guess, I have enough equipment here to keep appearing as Cassius. I can't do much of anything else, but I can do that."

"And where's this equipment located?"

"As a matter of fact, it's right down here, in the Metro."

"We'd like to see it."

"If I take you there, will you please stop questioning me?"

The Three exchanged skeptical glances.

Mr. Wu said, "There's only so much I can do. After a certain point, you're just going to have to trust me."

I said. "Sorry, no promises. Lead the way, please."

We followed Mr. Wu along the platform until we came to its center. He directed our attention to the wall. It was plain to see that the archway that once existed there had been bricked up.

Mr. Wu said, "Long ago, an underground walkway connected this station with the Farragut North station. Farragut North was eliminated during the renovation and now it's impossible to reach from above ground. But their attempt to seal off the connecting walkway was a halfhearted affair. My father took the liberty of putting in a door. You unlock it like this..." He pressed one of the bricks. "...and then you just push it open." A section of the wall swung inward, creating a narrow entryway at the edge of the arch.

Mr. Wu turned sideways, preparing to slip through. "I have the Glorb, so I'll go in first."

A voice came from the shadows, further up the platform. _"Next stop, Nampo Street!"_ A PilotTron emerged from the gloom, moving quickly toward us. _"Watch the doors, please!"_

Moto looked up at me and I gave her the nod. She intercepted the LobeBot and dropped it.

Mr. Wu slowly shook his head. "They're quite a nuisance down here. It's the escalators. They don't recognize them as staircases. Then they fall to the bottom and can't climb back up and just wander around in the dark."

Moto came trotting back, looking pleased with herself.

Mr. Wu said, "As I was saying, I'll go in first."

He edged into the opening and disappeared inside. I went in next, squeezing past him, taking my time. If he were going to bolt, he would have made his move when the LobeBot appeared.

He waited patiently for Moto and the Three to pass through the opening, then swung the door shut, making sure it locked into place. He said, "Farragut North is only a three minute walk from here."

The underground walkway had been frozen in time on the day it was sealed off. The gaudy posters that lined the walls were well preserved in their cases, advertising products that seemed to make people impossibly beautiful: cleansers for hair, teeth, and skin, powders for the eyes and cheeks, extravagant clothing for women and men both. Even the foods and beverages people consumed seemed to make them beautiful. It was hard to believe such a world ever existed.

We emerged into Farragut North, which was much like Farragut West except that the arched ceiling wasn't as high. A row of abandoned subway cars stood at the center of the platform.

Mr. Wu led us toward them. "My father could never understand why they left the train cars here. I can't either. There doesn't seem to be anything the matter with them."

The doors to the first car were standing open. I could see that the interior was crowded with electronic equipment. The doors to the second car, however, were closed, and curtains blacked out the windows.

I turned to Mr. Wu. "What's inside that car?"

"Those are my living quarters, such as they are. I assure you they're of limited appeal. The first car is vastly more entertaining."

He stepped through the open doors and turned to face us, rubbing his hands. "Now. Who would like to be Cassius?"

The Three just stared at him.

He smiled. "Let's try it this way: who trusts me the least? Would that be you, Teo? Come in and let me show you how it's done. Perhaps then you'll set your suspicions aside."

I squatted next to Moto. "What do you think? Is it okay?"

She nodded without much conviction.

The bulk of the equipment was packed into the front of the subway car. This left plenty of room in the rear to accommodate us. The only equipment in back was a large armchair and an odd looking television set. Resting on top of the TV was a clear plastic bag covered with tiny metal disks. Mr. Wu showed me to the armchair, and the Three lined up behind it, staying close. Moto sat at my feet, eyes on Mr. Wu.

I said, "The hologram is generated here first, and then transferred to the memorial."

Mr. Wu held up the plastic bag. "Exactly right. That's where this comes in." He handed it to me. "It's a mask of sorts. You slip it over your head, with the metal sensors in front."

I fitted the mask loosely into place, lining up my eyes with the eyeholes.

Mr. Wu picked up a control box. "This next part will feel a bit strange. Are you ready?"

I nodded. He flipped a switch and suddenly the bag was clinging tight against my face, like a second layer of skin. More disconcertingly, the plastic entered my nasal passages and coated my lips, teeth and tongue. Somehow, I was still able to breathe and speak.

Mr. Wu adjusted twisted the knobs on the television set. Its screen lit up and there was Cassius, staring back at me.

I said, "I'm controlling his face now, aren't I?"

Cassius mouthed the words along with me. His eyes, however, were motionless.

Mr. Wu picked up a pair of goggles. "Once you put these on, your eye movements will control his, and you'll be able to see what he sees." He handed them to me, then picked up a pair of headphones. "And with these on, you'll hear what he hears. At the moment, though, I'm afraid there isn't much going on."

With the goggles and headphones in place, I found myself high up in the Memorial chamber, staring down past Lincoln's knees at the empty marble floor.

Mr. Wu sounded far away. "The mask will pick up your voice and transform it into his. You'll be able to hear it through the headphones as you speak."

I looked up "Gettysburg Address" and recited the first sentence.

" **Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal..."**

I could indeed hear Cassius's voice echoing throughout the chamber.

I pulled off the goggles and headphones. "That's enough."

Mr. Wu flipped the switch again and the mask went slack. I pulled it off, as well, and handed everything back. "I still don't understand how the information gets transmitted from here to there."

Mr. Wu said, "A key point, and the reason the signal can't be traced. All the Domes are connected to the DataStream, and to each other, through wireless networks. There are routers mounted all over the Domes. My father established a direct link to these routers and began transmitting the hologram from there, jumping randomly from router to router every few seconds. The signal isn't in any one place long enough to be traced."

I said, "Wait a minute. Are you saying that all the computers in all the Domes are connected to the DataStream wirelessly?"

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

"That's what led to the Great Crash."

"The irony is almost too rich. The GR has let the DataStream become just as vulnerable as the Internet."

"What are you suggesting? That someone can take down the whole DataStream the same way?"

"Not someone, Teo. _You._ You can take it down and throw the GR into complete disarray. All we have to do is find the second complex your father built, and we can do it this very day. We can start searching right now."

Dogan spoke up. "Hold it, hold it! You said you were going to tell us where my dad was!"

Mr. Wu let out a long sigh. "Please, Dogan, be reasonable. I'm going to find out where your father is, I've made that promise a number of times. But you've had me jumping through hoops all morning and I'm through with it. So, with your kind permission, I'm going to take Teo on a little expedition. You're welcome to come along, but I guarantee you'll find it quite dull."

"So what are we supposed to do, hang around this dump and wait for you?"

"I humbly suggest that you go back to the White House and eat a proper breakfast. When Teo and I are finished, we'll pick you up there and come back here and see what the DataStream can tell us about your father. How does that sound?"

Dogan said, "Well, I _am_ kind of hungry..."

Luma was hesitant "I don't know. I think we should stick together."

I looked at Bim. He said, "At this point, it's almost impossible to believe he isn't Cassius."

I addressed Mr. Wu. "You're going to be hobbling around as Gutenberg the whole time, aren't you?"

"I haven't any choice."

I turned to the Three. "There doesn't seem to be much point in dragging you along. We'll walk you back to the White House."

Luma wasn't convinced. "Teo, are you _sure_ about this?"

I said, "Don't worry, Luma. Everything will be fine."

It was a foolish thing to say.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The search was even more tedious than anticipated. The longer it went on, the happier I became that we'd left the Three behind.

Mr. Wu was convinced that the second complex was connected to the White House by underground rail. Any secret rail line would have originated somewhere within the Metro system itself, probably in parallel with it. It made sense to search for some sort of connecting passageway, one that might have been walled off after construction.

Mr. Wu left no stone unturned. We started at the nearest Metro station, Metro Center, and went on from there, first south, to Federal Triangle, then north, to McPherson Square. We even backtracked to Farragut West and Farragut North. Mr. Wu was meticulous about covering every square inch of every station, no matter how unpromising, and he was careful not to rush me, urging me to take all the time I needed, hoping that some small detail would trigger my father's memories.

As we searched, I told him everything I knew about Trip's bunker, starting with the secret entrance in the Map Room and ending with its approximate location, beneath Metro Center. None of this seemed to surprise him.

In the end, we emerged from the Metro empty handed, but that didn't discourage him. He led me back to the White House, disguised as Gutenberg again, eager to attack the problem from the other end. We spent another tedious hour exploring the subbasement and then the basement, ending up at last on the ground floor.

By then, school was underway and a number of the inner rooms were filled with children. Mr. Wu seemed unconcerned about skipping these.

He led me toward the north side of the building. "I assume you've heard what happened at the bowling alley."

"Yes, from Hofmann, the art teacher. He was actually there."

"What do you make of it?"

If Mr. Wu hadn't been disguised as Gutenberg, I would have turned the question around. Instead, I said, "The GR was looking for something, possibly the same thing we're looking for."

"But why the bowling alley? It seems an unlikely spot."

"Maybe that was its appeal."

As we approached the doorway, I could see that the alley was still a shambles.

Mr. Wu said, "On the other hand, it's got one thing going for it."

"What's that?"

"Location. We're at the foundation's northernmost point, right under the Portico. There's nothing behind that wall but dirt, dirt and more dirt."

"A good starting point for a tunnel."

"Indeed. Let's see if anything jogs your memory."

Mr. Wu entered first and hobbled down the center of the demolished bowling lane. He kicked away shards of wood, saying, "They hacked straight down until they hit concrete, and managed to hack into that, too." He looked up at the damaged ceiling tiles. "That's a sign of desperation. How could there possibly be a tunnel in the ceiling?"

I stepped over to the spot where the scorekeeping terminal had been torn loose. "This seems pretty desperate, too. No one over the age of three could fit into that hole."

He gave me a couple of minutes to poke around the alley, more time than I needed. By then, he seemed ready to face reality. He leaned on his cane and let out a sigh. "Well, what's the verdict? Does anything here ring a bell?"

I shook my head. "Not really. But why does it have to be a tunnel? Couldn't there be some other kind of escape route?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Like a rocket ship on the roof? Believe me, I've checked."

As he made his way back toward the door, stepping over bowling balls, I said, "Now what?"

He said, "Now we find Dogan's father."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We had enough trouble just finding the Three. They weren't in the cafeteria, nor at the clinic. The East Room was deserted. I concluded they were outside somewhere.

As we descended the stairs to the South Lawn, one of the gryphons swooped in for a landing, touching down somewhere near the fountain. I hurried in that direction, leaving Mr. Wu straggling behind, still in disguise. I was concerned that Droogie and Shmoogie had broken loose.

As I approached, I could see that the gryphon had actually landed _in_ the empty fountain. Droogie and Shmoogie were turning it into a nest. The Three were standing on the far side, arms folded, watching this spectacle unfold.

When Luma saw me, she ran up and threw her arms around my neck, as though she hadn't seen me in a month. "Thank goodness you're back! I was really worried!"

I spoke into her ear. "Why?"

She released me, lowering her voice. "I still don't trust him!" Then she looked past me and waved, forcing a smile. Mr. Wu was coming up behind me.

He joined us, leaning on his cane. "I see the gryphons are making themselves at home."

Luma said, "Yes, we had to set them free. It just wasn't right to keep them tied up all the time."

I said, "What did they do when you released them?"

"They both took off into the sky. We figured we'd never see them again but they returned a few minutes later, carrying bits of trash. They've been at it ever since."

Dogan came marching up to us. "Hey, you're back!" He turned to Mr. Wu. _"Now_ can we find out where my dad is?"

Mr. Wu gave him Gutenberg's smile. "Your persistence is a marvel to behold."

Bim appeared at my side. "Find anything?"

I shook my head.

"So the second complex is just a myth?"

"We've run out of places to look, that's for sure."

Mr. Wu was studying us, trying to read Bim's lips. We stopped talking and an awkward silence ensued.

Dogan broke it, saying, "Are we just going to stand here all _day?"_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Our second trip to Farragut West bore a strange resemblance to our first. Again we followed Mr. Wu in silence through the empty streets. This time, though, he hobbled so slowly that I concluded that he was doing it to annoy Dogan. For his part, Dogan kept passing Mr. Wu and then turning around and waiting for him, which made the pace seem even slower.

When we arrived at Farragut West, Mr. Wu again led the way down the escalator and along the platform, to the bricked up archway. And when he opened the secret doorway, we again heard a voice from the shadows.

" _Wet floor, watch your step!"_

The JaniTron was well off in the distance, at the far end of the platform.

Mr. Wu pursed his lips in annoyance. "Inside, quickly, before it spots us."

He edged through the opening first, and I let the Three go after him. This gave me a moment to study the latch plate. It was attached to the brick face with four screws. As I slipped through the opening myself, I got my fingers under it and gave it a yank that left it dangling.

Mr. Wu let us all go past him, then swung the door closed. When it wouldn't click into place, he swung it open again and crouched down, examining the latch plate. He muttered, "Oh, for goodness sakes," and tried to push the screws back into place with his fingers. Realizing this was hopeless, he did the only thing he could do: he left the door closed but unlocked.

He paused to lean his cane up against the wall. When he stepped away from it, Gutenberg's face vanished. He began fishing in his pockets.

We heard the JaniTron's voice again, much nearer this time. _"Wet floor, watch your step!"_

Mr. Wu found his spectacles and put them on. "Let's keep moving."

He set a brisk pace down the passageway, making Dogan scramble to catch up. When we emerged into Farragut North, he headed for the second subway car, saying, "We have to access the DataStream from my living quarters."

Arriving at the forward doors, he turned and gave us a sheepish smile. "I'm embarrassed to admit it, but the place is a bit of a mess. Please give me a minute to tidy up."

He turned his back to us and pried the doors apart. Looking past him, I was surprised to see a stainless steel table, of the type found in operating rooms. Mr. Wu stepped over to it and picked something up.

I heard Moto snarl and turned to see her charging at him.

He whirled as she sprang, a pistol in his fist, and shot her through the chest.

The force of the bullet shattered her body and sent the fragments flying backwards onto the platform. Only her head continued forward, clattering across the floor of the subway car toward Mr. Wu. He stopped it with his foot.

By then, I was charging him myself, prepared to dodge his next shot. He raised his other hand and my arms and legs went slack. I sprawled onto the ground, halfway into the subway car.

Mr. Wu was holding my remote.

I couldn't feel anything from the neck down. My head, however, was unaffected. No doubt he wanted to have a chat.

The Three were frozen in place on the platform. Mr. Wu took careful aim and fired a bullet into the wall behind them, blasting a hole through it. Then he aimed the pistol at Dogan's stomach. "You've seen what these bullets do to steel and concrete. Just imagine what they'll do to you."

He looked to his right, gesturing with his head. Mrs. Po, his burly secretary, appeared next to him in the doorway. He handed her the pistol and she waved it at the Three, saying, "All right you brats, get in here! Move it!"

Numb with shock, they stepped around me and filed obediently past her. She waved the gun again, toward the rear of the car. "Get back there! Sit down and shut up!"

She followed after them and stood guard as they took their seats.

Mr. Wu slipped my remote into his pocket and stepped over to me. Crouching down, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the metal table, gently lowering me onto it.

He said, "I'm sorry it had to end this way, Teo. I'm really quite fond of you."

I said, "I thought I was supposed to save the world."

He took a step back. "An attempt to appeal to your vanity. I should have known you hadn't any."

"You think the real Cassius is operating from the second complex."

"I'm certain of it. Taking him down will be my crowning achievement."

"Let my friends go and I'll lead you to him."

He folded his arms. "So you _do_ know where he is."

"Not where he is. How to get there."

"Ah ha! I knew there was a railway! Does it connect to the White House?"

"Not another word until I'm sure my friends are safe."

He smiled sadly. "It's tempting, Teo, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"Let me count the ways. First of all, Bim knows much too much. He's been in on it from the beginning."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't be too hard on him. All this time, he believed he was fighting the good fight. You see, I rigged Cassius to appear in his room at Blessed Savior."

I looked past my feet at Bim. He met my gaze and held it, unashamed.

I turned back to Mr. Wu. "You assigned him to get me Outside."

"Did you really think he could go traipsing about the storm drains without my knowledge? I brought Bim to Blessed Savior for that express purpose."

"Why?"

"He's a clever lad with a penchant for androids. Given enough information, and a chance to scavenge the parts, I thought he had a shot at building a TEO."

"That's what this is all about, isn't it? The first person to replicate it will have the world at their feet."

"Well said."

"You had us kill Queen Scarlett because she was getting too close."

"Not really. If she'd built one, she would have had to share it with me. That's why I had nothing to lose by sending you to Baltimore. If she ended up with your skull, I'd get your TEO's that way. If you killed her, I'd get them on my own. But I greatly prefer her dead. A most tiresome person to deal with, as you can well imagine."

"You just want to live forever."

Mr. Wu looked hurt. "Do you really think so little of me? This isn't about my own personal survival."

"No?"

"Do you remember what I said to you, when we first arrived at my quarters?"

"You said, 'I care deeply about my country, Teo.' Then you lied about your sculpture."

"I've lied about a great many things. But I meant what I said about my country. China's been playing errand boy to the Kims for over a century. Do you know how that galls me? I would do _anything_ to restore her to her rightful place."

"You think replicating the TEO will do that?"

"Our Beloved Leader may be unacquainted with reality, but the rest of the leadership is in a full-blown panic. They know they don't have long. Once I prove I can give them new bodies, they'll come crawling to me, and my terms will be very simple."

"The Kims have been protecting me for a long time, haven't they? First through your father and now through you."

Mr. Wu displayed a caustic side I hadn't seen before. "They're insane in the most _aggravating_ ways! They blithely let a billion people starve, but your father does them _one_ favor and they pass the word down: 'You can't touch Teo! Nobody touches Teo!' The planet's about to burst into flames and the solution is right under their noses and they won't let me open you up!"

He took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "I don't know why I'm complaining. Were it otherwise, their fate wouldn't be in my hands."

"But you're still supposed to be protecting me."

"Technically, yes. But it's one thing when you're half-asleep in Dome Nine, droning away at school and work. It's quite another when you're attacking peacekeepers and escaping Outside. They don't know where you are. As far as they know, _I_ don't know where you are. If you're never heard from again, they certainly won't blame _me."_

A voice came from outside, on the platform. _"Wet floor, watch your step!"_

The JaniTron entered the subway car, catching Mr. Wu by surprise. It latched onto his arm and began dragging him. _"You must pledge fealty to Queen Scarlett."_

Mr. Wu let out an exasperated sigh. "Is there no _end_ to these wretched things?"

Squatting down, he groped the LobeBot's right ankle. The JaniTron dropped to the floor.

He got to his feet, rubbing his forearm, and stepped back to the table. "Now, where were we?"

"You were explaining why you won't let my friends go."

"Ah, yes. I've already explained about Bim. And I can't let Dogan go, either. He's just too disrespectful for his own good."

"What about Luma?"

"She's a sweet kid but I need her, too."

"What for?"

"To make you tell me where Cassius is."

"You mean you're going to torture her."

He shrugged. "I'm not talking about anything elaborate. I happen to have a pair of scissors in my pocket. We'll start with an earlobe and go from there."

"I don't believe you'd really do that."

"Teo, do you understand how much _work_ went into this plan? I had to reverse-engineer all the equipment needed to take over Cassius. It has literally taken me years. If I have to spend a few minutes snipping off bits of flesh, so be it."

"How long have you been controlling Cassius?"

"I broke the code weeks ago, but I decided to hold off until you were on your way here. My Cassius imitation leaves something to be desired. Geff's suspicious already. By the way, you changed the anagram, didn't you? The best I could come up with was _Ground cheese and beep."_

"I took out the W, so you wouldn't identify your own name."

"What was it really?"

"Anger cubed _knows_ hope."

"And the message was...?"

"It said _Wu Peng has broken code."_

He nodded. "So you knew I wasn't Cassius from the moment you saw me." He chuckled to himself. "He's a foxy one, that Gutenberg."

I said, "Mr. Wu?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"Please listen carefully to what I have to say."

He nodded.

"I would do anything to save Luma, anything at all. You know that. I give you my word that I will lead you to Cassius. I give you my word that I will teach you how to build TEO's. All you have to do is let my friends go."

He shook his head, smiling apologetically. "Teo, Teo, Teo, if only I believed you meant that. But you're much too dangerous to be trusted. I'd never sleep a wink! No, it's much simpler to open your skull and eliminate you from the equation."

"You're looking forward to killing them, aren't you?"

"That's very unfair of you. I'm simply trying to restore China to her former glory."

"But you _do_ enjoy it."

"All right, maybe just a little. I used to help my father when I was a boy. I take after him in many respects..." He shook his head. "But this isn't the time for nostalgia."

Turning to Mrs. Po, he said, "Bring me the girl."

He began searching his pockets, muttering, "Now where did I put those scissors..."

Thomas had dropped within reach of Mr. Wu's feet. He pulled them out from under him. Unable to catch the edge of the table with his hands, Mr. Wu caught it with his chin. Blood burst from his mouth and his spectacles flew off and then he was gone from my sight.

An odd crackling sound came from below. As Mrs. Po gasped in horror, Thomas stood up with my remote in his hand, fingers flying over the keypad.

Then came the moment I'll always wonder about. Mrs. Po raised the gun, aiming it at Thomas's head. Thomas glanced at her—I _know_ he saw what she was doing—then turned his attention back to the keypad.

The instant the feeling returned to my body, Mrs. Po fired. Thomas's head exploded into a thousand pieces.

As his body toppled sideways, I rolled off the table. Mrs. Po swung the pistol at Luma, her finger tightening on the trigger. I knew I wouldn't make it in time.

Dogan threw himself out of his seat, tackling Luma and taking her to the floor along with him. The bullet shattered the windowpane above them.

As I reached her side, Mrs. Po was swinging the gun at Luma again. I twisted it out of her hand and tossed it away, through the broken window and onto the platform.

Anger was surging through me now. Mrs. Po had killed Thomas for no good reason. Worse than that, she had tried to kill Luma. The thought of taking her life in return was tremendously appealing. There was a case to be made for it, as well. If we set her free, she would go back to the GR and reveal everything she knew, putting Cassius in jeopardy and making it impossible for Luma and Dogan to go home. The sensible course of action was to choke the life out of her and lay her to rest beside Mr. Wu.

Instead, I drove my fist into her chin, knocking her cold.

Luma was climbing to her feet when Mrs. Po hit the floor.

She looked at me in shock. "Teo! What did you do _that_ for?"

I said, "She's been rude to me for the last twenty-seven years."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The second car didn't house living quarters at all. More than anything else, it resembled an operating room, complete with scalpels and other surgical tools. The three steel tables, however, were equipped with shackles, which left no doubt as to Mr. Wu's intentions.

Luma retrieved Moto's head, trying to hold back tears. I pointed out that the skull was intact and assured her that, with some assistance, we'd be able to bring Moto back to life.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of Thomas. We agreed to leave his body where it had fallen. It didn't make much sense to bury it, and he hadn't any family or friends to claim it.

At last, the final line of Hexagram 9 made sense.

After the full moon,

Misfortune for a gentleman.

In the process of saving our lives, Thomas had killed Mr. Wu, who lay on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling in surprise. Thomas had twisted his head 180 degrees. We agreed to leave Mr. Wu's body where it lay, as well. If anyone wanted it, they would have to come get it themselves.

As for Mrs. Po, all I could do was bluff, as I had with Queen Scarlett. We worked out the details as we waited for her to come to.

When her eyes flickered open, she found me straddling her chest, hands around her throat, cutting off her air. Dogan played his part, trying in vain to pull me off, and Luma played hers, begging me not to go through with it. I finally relented after Mrs. Po swore—desperately and repeatedly—that she wouldn't say a word to anyone. Then I hauled her to her feet and got in a few more threats before she fled the subway car. It was better than nothing.

We spent the next half hour searching for Mr. Wu's connection to the DataStream. Eventually, we found it in the _third_ subway car, which housed his actual living quarters. Our excitement, however, was short lived. Everything was written in what I took to be Chinese and we couldn't read a word of it. Dogan didn't take this well, but he simmered down when I told him I had another plan.

We hiked out of the Metro and back down to the White House and gathered up our things. I made sure to retrieve my ax, and Luma put Moto's head in her backpack. Then I led the Three down to the bowling alley.

Dogan entered first, surveying the damage. "Wow! Somebody really hates bowling!"

As we followed him in, I said, "Mr. Wu was here a couple of weeks ago."

" _He_ trashed this place? How come?"

Luma looked at him in disbelief. "Dogan, have you been paying attention? He was trying to find the real Cassius. He thought there was some sort of secret passageway around here." She turned to me, excitement in her eyes. "Is there, Teo? Do you know where to find it?"

"Yes."

"Where is it? Tell me!"

"Give me a minute and I'll show you."

"You mean it's here? Mr. Wu was right?"

"Yes."

Dogan said, "Wait a minute! How come _you_ know where it is?"

I said, "My father left me memories of the White House."

"Your _father?_ What are you talking about?"

Luma gave him the shortest possible answer. "He's talking about the scientist who created him." She turned back to me. "Does that mean your father was the first Cassius?"

"I thought so for a while, but he couldn't have been."

"Then how could he have given you the memories?"

"He designed the second complex, the one Mr. Wu was looking for. He wanted me to be able to find it."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure."

Luma frowned in thought. "But how did Mr. Wu know you had these memories?"

"He didn't. He suspected it, but he couldn't be certain. The only way to find out was to gain my trust and coax me into revealing what I knew."

She nodded, still frowning. "Okay, then what was the point of destroying this bowling alley?"

"I think he took his best shot at finding Cassius himself. It would have saved him a huge amount of trouble."

Bim spoke up. "Maybe so, but it was still an impulsive act."

I repeated Bim's words.

Luma said, "What do you mean?"

"He bided his time for years and years, just like his father, waiting for Teo to wake up. And just before it happened, he lost his self discipline and tore this place apart."

I repeated Bim's words, adding, "He was so sure he'd figured out where the passageway was, he had to prove himself right."

Luma said, "But he _didn't._ Why couldn't he find it?"

"He had the right idea when he tore up the lane. But the concrete beneath the floorboards was so thick he gave up. My father was counting on that."

"You're saying it _is_ under this lane?"

I didn't reply. Instead, I picked up the nearest bowling ball and carried it to the spot where the scorekeeping terminal had been ripped from its base. When I dropped the ball into the hole, it punched through the false bottom and fell another 20 feet, tripping the catch and freeing the counterweight. The entire bowling lane, including the thick slab of concrete beneath it, rose up like the end of a seesaw, revealing a flight of stairs below.

Dogan's mouth was hanging open.

Luma let out a low whistle. "No wonder he couldn't find it."

I said, "I hate to tell you, but it's back to Farragut North."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bim turned on his Glorb and led the way down the stairs. When we reached bottom, we were prevented from going further by the massive counterweight, which had descended as the lane rose, blocking the passageway. A jack handle was embedded in the wall. It took half a minute to jack the bowling lane back into place and reset the catch. This lifted the counterweight and cleared our way.

The tunnel to Farragut North had been constructed quickly and in secrecy. The result was a featureless concrete hallway just 3 feet wide and 6 feet high. We walked along in silence, single file. The hallway stretched on and on.

It finally ended at the foot of a narrow stairway. When we reached the top, we found ourselves in a scaled-down Metro stop that was as confining as the passageway. It consisted of a single platform and a single set of tracks.

Dogan was the first to notice the hole in the wall. He said, "Hey Bim, turn off your Glorb."

With the Glorb off, we could see light filtering in through the opening the bullet had made.

Dogan said, "What's over there?"

Luma understood immediately. "Wow, he was right next to it the whole time."

"Next to what?"

She gestured at the hole. "Dogan, that's Farragut North."

The realization made him laugh. "And he thought he was so smart!"

Bim turned his Glorb back on and Luma walked up the platform, following the tracks. She said, "Look how small this tunnel is! The trains must be tiny!"

I said, "The smaller the better. They had a long way to go and a lot of obstacles to work around."

She turned to me in wonder. "Where does it go?"

"I can only guess. I have no memory of ever taking this train."

"Okay, so guess."

"I think it goes all the way to Philadelphia."

"Really? This train can take us home?"

"It's not that simple. I thought we'd find it waiting here. I should have known it would be parked at the other end."

"You mean we can't go?"

Dogan flew off the handle. "Hold it, hold it, hold it! How can you talk about going back to Dome Nine? We were supposed to find my dad out here and what have we found? Not a damn thing! We don't know any more than we did when we left!"

Luma looked at me. "He has a point."

Before I could reply, Dogan charged on. "These tracks take us to the real Cassius, right? And he can read the DataStream, right? So that's where we're going, and if I don't get some answers this time, I'm going to beat it out of him!"

I said, "I don't think there's any way to get there."

Dogan waved his arms. "What do you mean? We're going to walk!"

"There are two problems with that. If the train came, we wouldn't be able to get out of its path. And Philadelphia is 140 miles away. It would take us three days to walk there."

"I don't care! I can walk for three days, easy!"

"And then there's the air quality inside the tunnel."

Dogan glared at me. "Now you're just making stuff up!"

Bim appeared at my side. "You can stop arguing now. There's a train coming."

A train was indeed approaching. Its headlamp began as a pinprick in the darkness and expanded rapidly as the train hurtled toward us. To my surprise, there wasn't a sound to be heard from the tunnel, other than the whoosh of air.

The train was still traveling at full speed as it neared the station, and we all had the impulse to run for cover. Then it slowed down and glided to a gentle halt along the platform, all without the squeal of brakes or any other sound.

The train was remarkably small and consisted of only two cars, although "car" wasn't the right word. They were two bullet-shaped capsules joined back to back, giving the train a nose at both ends. Instead of doors, the capsules had hatches, hinged at the top.

One of these opened and young woman stepped out, looking surprised and relieved. I recognized her immediately, as did the Three. To them, she was Miss Green. I knew her as Emerald.

She hurried toward us. "Thank God you're all right! When we lost contact with Thomas, we feared the worst. I got here as fast as I could."

I said, "Cassius sent you?"

She stopped, nodding absently, and looked about the station. "Where's Thomas?"

No one knew what to say.

She studied our expressions and murmured "Oh no..."

I said, "He died saving our lives. His body is still at North Farragut. We didn't know what to do with it."

"Was his head badly damaged?"

"I'm afraid there's nothing left of it."

She pressed her hand to her brow. "This is going to break Josie's heart."

This whole exchange left me confused. "I don't understand how you know Thomas to begin with."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Teo, of course you don't. But it's a long story and not mine to tell." She turned to Luma, Bim and Dogan. "Will you come with me back to Philadelphia, to meet Cassius? Please?"

The Three all nodded at the same time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The train cars were only designed to seat two adults each, but the Three managed to squeeze into the second car. Emerald and I rode together in the first. The train piloted itself, and there was nothing but blackness outside the windows, so we sat back in our seats and talked.

I immediately asked about the train itself.

Emerald seemed amused by my curiosity. "It's just a Maglev train, like the bullet trains that run to the Arctic. All your father did was scale down the design."

"Maglev?"

"An old idea, short for magnetic levitation. This train has no wheels to propel it. It never even touches the track. Everything's done through electromagnetism."

"There's no feeling of motion inside the car."

"I know. It's very odd."

We fell silent for a moment. I knew I couldn't ask Emerald to reveal Cassius's identity, even the original Cassius. I decided, though, that there was nothing wrong with guessing.

I said, "The second complex wasn't intended for Cassius."

"That's right. It was designed for research and development. President Timberlake knew that the next president would dismantle every program he put in place. He and your father wanted to do something that couldn't be undone."

"What sort of research?"

"It was all related to climate change. There was only so much President Timberlake could do about global warming, politically. But he found a way to throw a huge amount of money at the problem in secret, through the Pentagon budget. The equipment in the second complex was state of the art."

"And who was doing this research?"

Emerald frowned apologetically. "I'm sorry, Teo. I'm not at liberty to answer that."

"You don't have to. It was my mother, Lena Clay. My sister, Jules, lived there with her, too. That's where she grew up. They were the only ones there, except when my father managed to visit."

Emerald blinked in astonishment. "How could you know that? Even Gutenberg didn't know."

"It's the only scenario that makes sense. But I don't know the first thing about my mother. She must have been as brilliant as my father."

"In her own field, yes, although she was never recognized for her greatest achievement."

"The blue vegetation."

Emerald stared at me, amazed and annoyed. "How do you _know_ all this?"

"I might ask the same of you."

"I just learned it all a few days ago!"

"From whom?"

She shook her head. "I can't answer that."

"Okay, how about this. My father was suspected of killing Lena and Jules, but that was all part of his plan, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Apparently, he referred to it as the 'rope-a-dope.' I don't know why."

"But he didn't fake their deaths until 2065. Why did it take so long to finish the complex?"

"It wasn't supposed to. You can imagine his frustration. By the time it was ready to go, Trip Savage had already taken office."

"What held it up?"

"The Philadelphia Zoo."

"Pardon me?"

"The Philadelphia Zoo. Needless to say, President Timberlake had to construct the complex in secret. The zoo was about to go under, so he ordered the National Park Service to buy it. His team put in the complex first, well below ground. Then the Park Service came in rebuilt the zoo right over it. They didn't even know it was there."

"And that took a long time?"

"No, that part went quickly. The delays happened _before_ that. All the animals had to be moved offsite and they were all endangered species. It took forever to relocate them."

"Was there a way down to the complex from the zoo?"

Emerald shook her head. "They couldn't risk it."

"So when my father visited, he still had to go through the White House."

"Yes. That's why he stayed on in the Savage Administration."

"But visiting was a big risk. He couldn't have gone very often."

"Only about once a year, at least up until the Crash. But he did spend a month there in 2067."

"Why?"

"Word reached your father that China had begun constructing its own information network. He wanted to link into it while it was still in its infancy. He got in so early on, his connection became part of the DataStream's structure."

"That's why Cassius has complete access."

"It's more than just access. He can see what the GR sees, hear what they hear. He can fly any drone, stop any train, loot any shipment. That's how he gets hold of all the medical devices and VaporFlasks and Glorbs."

"And yet my father couldn't have been the original Cassius. He turned himself in during the Invasion."

"I'm sorry, Teo, there are things I just can't talk about."

"Fine. But he created Cassius in the second complex, after the Crash, and went to DC to set up the hologram. Right?"

"Yes."

"Then he came back and finished constructing _me,_ right there as well, with my mother and sister looking on. That's why he had to wipe my earliest memories."

She sighed. "I won't deny any of that, but can we please drop the subject?"

"All right. Just confirm one more thing. Jules would be about 110 years old now. Is she still alive?"

Emerald shook her head.

"So there's a _third_ Cassius."

She nodded.

"Anything else you can add?"

"Yes. We're about fifteen minutes away. When we get there, all your questions will be answered."

Emerald turned to the window, gazing out at the blackness. We rode in silence for the rest of the trip.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We arrived at the station without warning. One moment, we were surrounded by darkness, the next, we were easing to a stop along the platform. Yellow sunlight streamed in through the station's skylights, glinting off polished tile and stainless steel. Peering upward, I could see a patch of vivid blue sky, complete with white clouds.

Gutenberg was leaning on his cane, waiting for us. As he watched us exit the cars one-by-one, the hope faded from his expression.

He hobbled over to Emerald, looking downcast. "Thomas?"

She shook her head.

He let out a long sigh that left him bent over his cane. Then drew himself up and managed a smile, saying, "Hello, children. Hello, Teo."

The Three nodded politely.

I said, "Hello, Mr. Gutenberg. It's very nice to see you again."

Emerald stepped to his side. "You can speak freely. Teo's figured out everything for himself, except about Thomas."

Gutenberg said, "First things first. The children have been through a great deal over the past three days. Would you please take them to the kitchen and make sure they get a solid meal?"

Emerald turned to the Three. "Who's hungry?"

Dogan raised his hand.

"This way to the kitchen."

She led them toward a door at the far end of the platform.

Mr. Gutenberg turned to the double doors behind us. "Come along with me, Teo. These lead to the main lab."

The doors opened into an enormous room filled with all manner of scientific equipment. With some effort, Gutenberg wheeled an office chair away from one of the computer terminals and offered it to me, saying, "It falls upon me to be the bearer of bad news. Please sit and relax until I get back."

I set my ax on the floor, saying, "You were watching everything through Thomas, weren't you? And listening, too?"

"Correct."

"He wasn't really a MediTron."

"I'm afraid that most of what he told you was untrue."

I shrugged off my backpack and sat down. "He knew who I was from the start."

"Also correct."

"If he wasn't a MediTron, what was he?"

Gutenberg smiled patiently. "I know how compelling this is for you, Teo, but I really must see Josie straight away. I gave her my word. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

He made his way to a side door and disappeared through it.

I rolled my chair back to the computer. It was surprisingly similar to my workstation at DynaLink, including the joystick. I turned on the screen, hoping the complex had an English version of the DataStream. When it flickered to life, though, I was greeted by Chinese, just as before.

I got up and wandered about the lab, looking at the equipment. There were a few items I'd seen before, such as test tubes and Bunsen burners and centrifuges, but the rest consisted of futuristic machinery, all hopelessly complex.

Every so often, I would happen upon another computer screen, only to be confronted with more Chinese. As I studied the language, I realized that it didn't have an alphabet. It was based instead on pictograms. Learning to read them would be a matter of simple memorization, something I excelled at. All I needed was a dictionary.

Resting on the desk at the next workstation, as though left there specifically for me, was a little dog-eared, leather-bound Chinese-English dictionary. It was quite old and dusty, but otherwise in good condition. I opened the front cover to find that the owner had written his name at the top of the first page: Joseph Clay. I scanned the book from beginning to end.

I had just gotten back to my seat when Gutenberg returned. He pulled up a chair next to mine and lowered himself into it, hooking his cane on the arm. He looked very old and very tired.

I said, "How did Josie take the news?"

He rubbed his temples. "She's heartbroken, of course. But she knew the truth the moment the screen went black. It was my unfortunate duty to confirm it."

"Thomas sacrificed himself to save us. Why?"

Mr. Gutenberg hesitated. "I'm not sure quite how to put this. In some regards, it makes the most sense to call Thomas your brother."

Something made me resist this notion. "Because he was built by Joseph Clay? That doesn't make him my brother."

"It's more than that. Thomas was built right here in this laboratory, at the very same time your father was finishing _you._ No, that's inaccurate. Thomas's _mind_ was built here at the very same time. His body was exactly like any other Menial's, and came off an assembly line. It was what went into his skull that made Thomas so extraordinary."

"I know he had TEO's, but so do MediTrons. That still doesn't make him my brother."

"I'm not referring to his TEO's. Thomas spoke of his Core Memory, did he not?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"Teo, his Core Memory was identical to yours. Whatever circuitry your father devised to make you fully human was replicated inside Thomas's skull. And the portions of your father's mind that were transferred into you were transferred into Thomas, as well. In fact, your father put _more_ of himself into Thomas than he did into you. Much more."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because Thomas was intended for a different purpose."

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. "My father knew Cassius was too much for Lena to handle alone, and he knew he had to turn himself over to UNK/C. So he created Thomas to help her out."

Gutenberg leaned forward. "Thomas was more than an assistant, Teo. The very idea of Cassius would have been impossible without him. Think of it. Thomas looked just like any other Menial. He could assume any guise, just by switching uniforms. He could go anywhere and do anything, virtually unseen. Dressed as a PilotTron, he could board any train and ride to any destination. Dressed as a JaniTron, he could enter any building and unlock any door. And he could take on assignments far too dangerous for Lena or Jules. When Cassius stopped a train to pilfer supplies, Thomas would be waiting in the tunnel. When Cassius landed a drone, Thomas would be waiting on the ground. And, above all else, he was able to meet with your father."

"How is that possible? I thought the GR kept Joseph Clay under constant surveillance."

"They did, at home and at work, the only two places he ever went. But his daily commute was another matter. In the morning, one agent would watch him board the train at the Dome Three station and another would watch him get off at Dome Six. In the evening, the procedure was reversed. But no one was watching him while he was on the train itself. Typical GR oversight. Just laziness, really."

"So Thomas would meet my father on the train, disguised as a PilotTron."

Gutenberg nodded.

"How often did they meet?"

"It was risky, but they had a standing date. Once a week, same day, same train. Joseph would trade letters with Lena at every meeting and record messages for his daughters."

I wasn't sure if this was a slip of the tongue or if Gutenberg thought I already knew. It seemed like a good time to settle the matter.

I said, "My father had more than one daughter?"

He looked surprised. "Emerald didn't tell you?"

"She was doing her best not to say too much. But I gather Josie is the present day Cassius."

"Right."

"And she's Jules's younger sister."

"Right again."

"How much younger?"

"Eleven years."

"So she was conceived during the Invasion. You could almost say we're the same age."

Gutenberg smiled. "Let's just say she's nine months your junior. Ninety-nine years old, at present."

"So Josie took over from Jules, who took over from Lena."

"Correct. Bear in mind, though, that Jules was a brilliant scientist in her own right. She created Panacillin."

"In some sense, though, my father _was_ the first Cassius."

"Well, it was a collective effort. And don't underestimate Thomas's contribution. He did all the legwork. He was literally tireless. He never slept."

I said, "I know, we talked about it. I got the sense it was a burden."

"What? Being awake all the time?"

"Yes. He seemed quite melancholy about it. Do you think that's even possible?

Gutenberg stroked his chin. "I haven't any answer to that. I've learned a quite a lot about Thomas over the past few days, but I've only met him once, the very same day I met you in the Ruins. Josie sent him up to find me."

"Sent him up? How?"

"Dome Nine's western rim is less than a quarter mile from here. If not for the zoo, the Chinese might have anchored it right on top of here."

"So there's a tunnel."

"It's really just a long drainpipe. Long and narrow. You have to crawl the whole way. But it connects to the Dome Nine train station. Thomas must have crawled it a thousand times. That's how he went everywhere. He'd just appear on the platform, dressed as a PilotTron, and board any train he pleased."

I said, "Why did Josie send him to find you?"

"When she discovered someone had taken control of Cassius, she knew she needed help. I'm very glad she reached out to Emerald and me."

"Josie was willing to reveal everything, just because of a glitch?"

Gutenberg sighed. "It pains me to say this, Teo, but Cassius doesn't have much of a future. Josie's been clinging to life through sheer force of will. Frankly, now that Thomas is gone I don't think she wants to go on living. But she wants to meet you very, very much indeed. After all, you're her only brother."

"What about Thomas?"

"You still don't understand, Teo. Thomas was the only father she ever knew. And, if you'll permit me, on some level he was _your_ father, too. So you can stop wondering why he gave his life for you."

I didn't know what to think. My resistance was gone, replaced by a feeling I was struggling to identify. It was clear now that Thomas was in many ways my father, and I knew I'd squandered my time with him and gotten him killed. I wanted to go back and do it all over again. The fact that I couldn't made my stomach ache as never before.

Gutenberg sensed my thoughts. "I'm very sorry, Teo. Thomas had no choice. He was forced to pose as a MediTron. Telling you the truth would have complicated everything."

"You sent him to watch over me."

"We all talked it through—Josie, Thomas, Emerald and myself—and decided it was the best course of action. We were reasonably certain Mr. Wu would send you to Baltimore and Thomas wanted to accompany you there. But we also knew you would face a far greater danger when you returned to DC."

"Thomas walked out on us in Baltimore, when we were still in Queen Scarlett's clutches. Why would he do that?"

"Because his work was done. He knew the four of you would see it through."

"How could he possibly know that?"

"The Oracle foretold it."

I was already tired of hearing this. "Mr. Wu said the same thing, when he was Cassius. I just assumed it was one of his lies. Now you're making the same claim."

"I claim nothing. I've tried the Oracle and I can't make heads nor tails of it. But your father swore by it, and so did Thomas. Don't be surprised if Josie brings it up, too."

"When does she want to see me?"

"She asked for a few minutes to compose herself. I believe we've given her that."

I stood up. "Is she in her living quarters?"

Gutenberg pushed himself out of his chair. "No. Apparently, she hasn't been there in some time."

"Then where is she?"

He retrieved his cane. "They call it the Lincoln Bedroom."

"Why?"

He started for the side door. "Because it _is_ the Lincoln Bedroom. As soon as Trip Savage took over the White House, he stripped the room bare and filled it with his trophies. Your father managed to rescue the bed and some other furnishings before the bonfire."

"But it isn't part of the living quarters."

"No. It's where Cassius resides, so to speak."

Gutenberg opened the door, motioning me to enter first.

The room looked much like the real Lincoln Bedroom. The hand-carved bed stood against the rear wall, complete with towering headboard, and the gilded, crown-shaped canopy was there, too, its lace curtains cascading to the floor. The room's two windows had been replicated, as well. Through them, I could see green grass and blue sky.

Josie was stretched out on the bed, reclining on a backrest of pillows. Despite her age, the resemblance to Cassius was undeniable. Her face was moon shaped, and her eyes displayed the same fierce intelligence. Even her skin was the same shade of brown.

It suddenly dawned on me that Joseph and Lena Clay were Negro.

As I approached, Josie gave me a smile, doing her best to lift her arm from the bedspread. She was dressed in a long satin nightgown, and all the life was in her face. Her body seemed little more than a skeleton.

I took her fragile hand in mine, supporting her arm. "Hi Josie. I'm Teo."

She gave my hand a squeeze. Her voice had a gentle rasp to it, another resemblance to Cassius. "Hello, Teo. I've waited such a long, long time to meet you. Will you sit with me for a while?"

As I went to find a seat, Gutenberg excused himself and made his way back to the lab. I placed an antique mahogany chair at Josie's bedside and sat down.

She said, "There really isn't much left of me, Teo. Most of the time, I don't even feel my body. All I do these days is sip Mash and play Cassius."

I could see a tube dangling within reach of her mouth. It led back to a plastic bag filled with pale blue liquid.

I said, "You play Cassius right here, from this bed?"

"This is how we've always done it."

I could see no equipment of any kind. "But how?"

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Following her gaze, I could see a metal orb, hidden up in the canopy.

I said, "That's all it takes?"

"The helmet connects to computers in the laboratory. But let's not waste our time talking about that. I want to know about _you,_ Teo. Tell me about yourself."

Josie's eyes were bright with curiosity now.

I was at a loss for words. "There isn't much to tell. I live in Dome Nine, in the Greater Philadelphia Seacoast Complex..."

She stopped me. "Your old life was just a dream, Teo. You're awake now. I want to know about _that."_

I was still at a loss. "It's been...confusing. I don't really know what I'm doing. I keep making mistakes."

"What sort of mistakes?"

"It always comes down to the same thing. I take on something I think I can handle and then it all goes wrong and someone has to bail me out."

"For example?"

"On our way to Washington, DC, we walked right into a patch of Queen Scarlett's flowers. Luma and Dogan got hit. They were being dragged into the woods and I didn't know what to do. By some miracle, a woman came along who happened to have salt."

"Where was your mistake?"

"I didn't recognize the danger."

"But you'd never been Outside before."

"I still should have known. The warning signs were obvious."

"No they weren't. That's why we had Esmeralda meet up with you."

"You sent her there?"

"Yes."

"So you knew all along I was going to fail."

Josie sighed. "You sound just like Thomas. He was always so hard on himself."

"He was?"

"Yes. He would dismiss all his successes and dwell on his failures. I think Joseph Clay transferred some of his emotions to him, along with his intellect."

This didn't seem right. "Are you saying my father was plagued by self-doubt?"

There was a quiet bitterness in her voice. "How would I know? The great man never deigned to meet me. But Mama said there was a certain melancholy about him. Every so often, he'd go into a funk and belittle his accomplishments."

"Why would he pass that on to Thomas?"

"You guess is as good as mine, Teo. Maybe he just wasn't that smart."

She turned away from me, gazing out the window. When she turned back, she tried to dismiss her bitterness with a smile. "Now. Tell about some of _your_ successes."

I tried to come up with some. "Let's see. I killed Queen Scarlett's giant pythons. I didn't feel very good about that, though. And I blew up most of her Lobe-bots. That's about it, I guess."

"You figured out Cassius was a fraud."

"That doesn't count. Gutenberg gave me an anagram."

"There was more to it than that."

"Well, Mr. Wu made mistakes. He kept letting us cut in line. That's something the real Cassius would never do." I suddenly remembered whom I was talking to. "I don't think. You tell me."

Josie nodded. "Right on."

"And Lewis told me Cassius talked like a black man. Even with his voice disguised, Mr. Wu still talked like Mr. Wu."

"So you figured it out on your own. How about some other successes?"

"I can't think of any."

"You defeated Queen Scarlett."

"Defeated her? I failed completely. I had my hands around her neck and I couldn't go through with it."

"Why not?"

"I felt sorry for her."

"You consider that a failure?"

"I don't know, but you certainly can't say I defeated her."

"Not at that moment, no. That doesn't make it a failure."

I knew where she was headed. "I appreciate your kindness, Josie, but I've decided for myself that killing is wrong, so there's no need to rehash it. Meanwhile, I've made a lot of mistakes and I don't care to hear them explained away. My stupidity got Thomas killed and you know it."

My words sounded harsher than intended, but Josie didn't take offense.

She said, "You didn't know Mr. Wu had your remote. We did. That's why Thomas left you in Baltimore and came back to DC. We knew you'd see through Mr. Wu's disguises. We knew you had the speed and strength to overcome him. But we also knew he'd never give you that chance."

I chided her. "The Oracle foretold it."

She took this at face value. "Right. So Thomas knew exactly what he was getting into."

"Are you saying he knew he was going to kill Mr. Wu?"

"You knew it, too. While Thomas was playing possum, we were all listening. What you did was very shrewd."

"I knew he could only kill Mr. Wu if it saved our lives. But it wasn't supposed to get _him_ killed. Why did he go after my remote?"

"You think he should have rushed Mrs. Po instead, and grabbed the gun."

"When he broke Mr. Wu's neck, she was too stunned to move."

"Suppose he'd tried that and gotten his head blown off. Where would you have been then? She would have killed all four of you."

"Suppose she'd shot him before he could free me. Same result."

"But she didn't. Thomas knew he had enough time."

"Just barely."

"But enough."

I wasn't convinced, but I could see no point in discussing it further. We sat in silence for a time.

Finally, I said, "All right, then, just tell me this. Was it worth it for Thomas to trade his life for Mr. Wu's?"

She didn't hesitate. "Without a doubt."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Mr. Wu was on the verge of finding us. After he killed the four of you, he would have begun tearing out the walls at Farragut North."

"If he _had_ taken down Cassius, would he have been rewarded?"

Josie shook her head. "Not for Cassius alone. The GR never cared all that much about what we were doing."

"Then why was Mr. Wu so obsessed?"

"Before the Crash, Joseph Clay heard about the DataStream and got in on the ground floor. If I wanted to, I could go roaming around right now, deleting all the computer code your father added."

"Roaming around?"

She nodded. "Joysticks and screens went out a long time ago. Now the DataStream is a three dimensional structure, a castle you can enter and explore."

"And if you deleted all this code, then what?"

"The castle would disintegrate and the GR would lose all its data."

"Mr. Wu talked about something like that. I though he was just using it as bait."

"Well, it's a very real possibility. If he'd eliminated that threat, who knows what the GR would have given him."

"Why haven't you crashed the DataStream yourself?"

"Why would I? It's as much use to us as it is to them."

This seemed obvious the moment she said it.

I said, "When he was playing Cassius, Mr. Wu said it was my destiny to bring down the GR. He implied that crashing the DataStream was the way to do it."

Josie pondered this. "You'd have to do a lot other things first before it would do any good."

"Do _you_ think it's my destiny?"

She smiled, but there was more bitterness behind it. "Wouldn't it be grand if we could _all_ have our destinies mapped out for us?"

"But you knew I was going to wake up. You must have talked about my purpose, about what my father wanted me to do."

To my surprise, Josie managed to pull herself upright, through the power of her anger.

She said, "To be perfectly honest, Teo, I don't know what that man wanted _anyone_ to do. What kind of life was this for his wife and kids? Who would want that for _anyone?_ At least Mama had some choice in the matter. Jules certainly didn't. And I never even saw his face. So if you're in the dark, Teo, believe me, you're not alone!"

She sank back on her pillows and a tear made its way slowly down her cheek. I didn't know what to say.

Josie finally broke the silence, sounding exhausted. "Dogan's father is alive. He's working in Oilfield 217. His serial number is 1216733498..."

Her eyelids flickered shut and she fell instantly into a deep sleep.

I realized that the bright blue sky outside had deceived me. I'd lost track of time. It was actually 8:04 PM, and my own bedtime wasn't that far off. I got up and tiptoed out of the Lincoln Bedroom, closing the door softly behind me.

I took a seat in the lab again and fished my remote out of my backpack. It was similar to Moto's, just a little screen with a keypad below it. It didn't take long to find my way into the settings menu.

I sat for a while, trying to decide on a better shutdown time. There wasn't any reason to keep the same boot-up time, either. I even considered not sleeping at all, like Thomas.

In the end, though, I left my settings unchanged. Under the circumstances, shutting down at 9:30 PM seemed about right. I wasn't quite ready to part with my only remaining routine.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The door on the opposite side of the lab led to the living quarters. As soon as I stepped through it, I heard laughter and smelled the aroma of cooking meat. I followed the long hallway to its end, passing a number of closed doors, and found myself in the kitchen.

Emerald and Gutenberg were sitting with the Three around a large table, the remains of a meal spread across it.

When Luma saw me come in, she jumped up and ran over. "Teo! You are not going to _believe_ what we just had for supper!"

I knew the answer, but I said, "I don't know. What?"

"Hamburgers! _Real_ hamburgers, with _real_ buns! They have them in this giant freezer!"

"Your wish came true, after all. How were they?"

"They were _delicious!_ No, they were _beyond_ delicious! I don't see how I'm ever going to eat Mom's hamburgers again!"

Luma heard her own words and froze. Her smile faded away.

She looked at her feet. "Um, Teo... I have some bad news."

For once, I had no guess. "What is it?"

"Mom is in trouble. Emerald looked her up on the DataStream. She's sick or hurt, I don't know which, but she's in the hospital."

This made me suspicious. I said, "How's Drake?"

Luma looked up, expression troubled. "He's dead."

I glanced at Emerald. She nodded.

I said, "What happened?"

"Nobody knows. But Teo, I have to get home to Mom. She's all alone. I'm the only one she has now."

I felt this in my stomach. "Of course."

"Emerald is going to take me home in a few minutes. We already worked out my story." She suddenly threw her arms around my neck. "But I don't _want_ to go, Teo! I mean, I _do_ , I have to help Mom, but I really, really wish you could come with me!"

I said, "I can't, Luma. You know I can't."

She released me, nodding. "I don't know when I'll be back. Emerald says she can get me out again when I'm ready, but I don't know how long Mom will need me." She looked away. "You guys are going to have to find Dogan's father without me."

"That's okay, Luma."

Her voice was forlorn. "But we're supposed to stick together! I don't like it! It doesn't feel right!"

I agreed, but I said, "Don't worry about us, Luma. You go help your mom. We'll be fine."

She turned back to me, extending her pinkie. "Swear it!"

I offered her mine, knowing I couldn't promise any such thing.

When we'd sealed the pact, Luma retrieved Moto's head from her backpack and placed it on the table. Then Emerald took her gently by the arm. As she led Luma away, Dogan asked if he and Bim could see her off at the drainpipe. Emerald agreed and they all exited through the kitchen doorway.

And that was that. A door opened and closed and Luma was gone from my life.

I sat down opposite Gutenberg. He waited in silence.

I said, "After all that's happened, I _still_ don't know what I'm supposed to do. Mr. Wu lied to me, Josie wouldn't help me, and Thomas is dead. You're my last hope."

He gave me a fatherly smile. "I have an answer but you're not going to like it."

"At this point, I'll take anything."

"All right, then. No one knows what you're supposed to do. You have to figure it out for yourself."

"Wait a minute. Emerald said, 'Your father created you for a purpose. Fulfill that purpose.' What was that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it means. Just because she doesn't know your purpose doesn't make it any less true."

I found this idiotic. "So that's it? Figure it out myself?"

Gutenberg was fishing in the pockets of his frock coat. "Well, there is _one_ other thing. Thomas gave it to me before he left..."

He produced a thin black book and slid it across the table.

I recognized it immediately. "Not the Oracle again. That's worse than nothing."

Gutenberg smiled. "You said you'd take anything. Open it."

I lifted the front cover. A single sheet of paper had been folded in half and tucked inside. I removed it and unfolded it.

It read: _Dear Teo,_ _Our father had great faith in us. I used to worry about things to come, unsure of what to do, and he would remind me that our beliefs are defined by our actions. I finally learned that I would never know what to do until the moment arrived. Only then would my path become clear. I believe that's what he meant, and this book has furthered my understanding. Good luck. Thomas_

I refolded the paper and put it back in the book.

Gutenberg said, _"_ Better than nothing, wouldn't you agree?"

I stood up. "Will you please tell me where I'm sleeping?"

He climbed to his feet and picked up his cane. "You have a number of options. I'll escort you."

Gutenberg led me back down the long hallway. Stopping midway, he opened one of the doors and ushered me in. "This was Thomas's room."

It was softly lit and almost empty. The only piece of furniture, a well-worn recliner, sat in the center of the room. The wall it faced was equipped with a complex of speakers and a glowing control panel. These were set directly into the wall, flush with its surface. There was nothing else in the room, except for strings of colored lights that ran around the perimeter, close to the ceiling.

Gutenberg said, "According to Josie, when Thomas had nothing else to do he would withdraw to his room and listen to music."

"I don't see a single record anywhere."

"Times have changed, Teo. The storage device in the wall holds over ten million hours of music, from any artist you can imagine. Thomas would program endless playlists and recline in his armchair, sometimes for days. He told Josie it was the only way to escape his own thoughts."

"What did he listen to?"

"Above all else, he loved Ben Webster."

I looked up "Webster, Ben." No entry.

Gutenberg said, "Do you have any favorites, Teo? Very likely you'll find them here."

"I'm not sure. Ray Conniff? Percy Faith?"

Gutenberg looked aghast.

I said, "That's all they played in Dome Nine."

"Then your ears are about to be opened. The remote is built right into the recliner. Will you be comfortable enough here?"

"This will be fine. Thank you."

"Good night, Teo. Pleasant dreams."

After Gutenberg left, I sat down in Thomas's recliner and raised the footrest. I had no intention of listening to music, and pondering my future held no appeal, either. All I really wanted to do was chase down Luma before it was too late and make her come back. Instead, I turned my attention to Thomas's thin black book, which I still held in my hands.

There was a brief introduction explaining how to consult the Oracle by sorting yarrow stalks. This was the procedure King Wen had used. Done by hand, it had been long and complicated, but I realized that my processors could duplicate it in an instant.

This forced me to decide whether or not to consult the Oracle myself. It had predicted my future, there was no arguing that, but the predictions had only made sense in hindsight. On the other hand, Thomas had left it for me. He believed the Oracle would guide me, and, truth be told, it was the only guidance I was likely to get.

I mentally sorted the yarrow stalks and received Hexagram 26, _Big Cattle._ It read:

Auspicious omen.

Do not dine at home.

Auspicious to cross the great stream.

This was the sort of claptrap I had come to expect, but now I tried to make sense of it. King Wen had said, "Oracle speak of one thing, mean something else."

Crossing the great stream had already come up in earlier fortunes. It seemed to mean undertaking something difficult. And not dining at home implied that I should leave familiar surroundings and travel.

I received a moving line, as well. It read:

Danger.

You will profit.

This suggested that the journey would be risky, but worth the trouble.

The moving line changed Hexagram 26 into Hexagram 18, _Work,_ which read:

Sign of the Great Sacrifice.

Auspicious to cross the great stream.

Three days before the first.

Three days after the first.

There was the great stream again, this time in the context of difficult work. The last two lines were quite specific. I had no objection to waiting three days before the first, or after it, for that matter. But what, exactly, was the first?

I closed the book and tucked it into the gap between the recliner's arm and seat cushion. All in all, it had told me what I'd already known: the next move was to get up to the Arctic and look for Dogan's father. As to my purpose in life, the Oracle—like everyone else—remained silent.

I lay back in Thomas's recliner and waited for 9:29 PM to arrive.

Tomorrow, I'll talk to Gutenberg about getting up to the Arctic and finding Oilfield 217. At the moment, though, I have no enthusiasm for this quest.

Without Luma, there doesn't seem to be much point in anything.

Entry complete.

### The End

I thank you most sincerely for reading my story!

_Dome Nine_ is the first book in a planned trilogy.

Comments? Questions?

Contact John Purcell at smthprcll@aol.com
