Maya and Gabriel passed through the town of San Lucas around one o’clock in the afternoon and headed south on a two-lane highway. As each new mile clicked on the van’s odometer, Maya tried to ignore her growing tension. Back in Los Angeles, the message from Linden was quite clear. Drive to San Lucas, Arizona. Follow Highway 77 south. Look for green ribbon. Name of contact-Martin. Perhaps they had missed the ribbon or the desert wind had blown it away. Linden could have been tricked by the Tabula’s Internet group and they could be walking into an ambush.

Maya was used to vague directions that led to safe houses or access points, but guarding a possible Traveler like Gabriel changed everything. Ever since the fight at the Paradise Diner, he had kept his distance from her, saying only a few words when they stopped for gasoline and looked at the map. He acted like a man who had agreed to climb a dangerous mountain and was prepared to tolerate obstacles along the way.

She rolled down the window of the van and the desert air dried the sweat on her skin. Blue sky. A hawk riding a thermal. Gabriel was a mile in front of her and suddenly he turned and raced back down the road. He pointed to the left and signaled with the palm of his hand. Found it.

Maya saw a length of green ribbon tied around the steel base of a mileage marker. A dirt road-no wider than two wheel ruts-touched the highway at that point, but there was no sign indicating where it would lead them. Gabriel pulled off his motorcycle helmet and it dangled from the bike’s handlebars as they followed the road. They were passing through the high desert-a flat, arid land with cactus, clumps of dead grass, and cat’s-claw acacia that scraped against the sides of the van. There were two junctions in the dirt road, but Gabriel found the green ribbons that guided them east. As they gained elevation, mesquite and gray oak trees began to appear and there were holly-green bushes with little yellow flowers that attracted honeybees.

Gabriel led them to the top of a low hill and stopped for a minute. What had looked like a line of mountains from the highway was actually a plateau that extended two enormous arms around a sheltered valley. Even from a distance you could see a few box-shaped houses half hidden in the pine trees. Far above this community, at the edge of the plateau, were three wind turbines. Each steel tower supported a rotor with three blades that was spinning like a massive airplane propeller.

Gabriel wiped the dust off his face with a bandanna, and then continued up the dirt road. He traveled slowly, glancing from side to side, as if he expected someone to jump out of the undergrowth and surprise them.

The combat shotgun was lying on the floor of the van, covered with an old blanket. Maya picked up the weapon, pumped a round into the firing chamber, and placed it on the passenger seat beside her. She wondered if a Pathfinder were really living in this place or if he had been hunted down and killed by the Tabula.

The road turned directly toward the valley and crossed a stone bridge that arched over a narrow stream. On the other side of the stream, she saw figures moving in the undergrowth and slowed down.

Four-no, five-children were carrying large stones down the path to the stream. Perhaps they were building some kind of dam or swimming hole. Maya couldn’t be sure. But they all stopped and stared at the motorcycle and the van. A thousand feet up the road, they passed a small boy carrying a plastic bucket and he waved at them. They still hadn’t seen any adults, but the children appeared quite happy to be on their own. For a few seconds, Maya envisioned a kingdom of children growing up without the constant influence of the Vast Machine.

As they got closer to the valley, the road became paved with brownish-red brick, slightly darker than the surrounding soil. They passed three long greenhouses with glazed windows, and then Gabriel pulled into the courtyard of a vehicle maintenance area. Four dusty pickup trucks were parked inside an open pavilion that was used as a repair garage. A bulldozer, two jeeps, and an ancient school bus were lined up near a wooden shed filled with tools. Brick steps led up the slope to a large pen filled with white chickens.

Maya left the shotgun concealed beneath the blanket, but slung the sword carrier over her shoulder. When she shut the door of the van, she saw a ten-year-old girl sitting on top of a brick retaining wall. The girl was Asian and had long black hair that touched her narrow shoulders. Like the other children, she wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a solid pair of work boots. A large hunting knife with a horn handle and a sheath was hanging from her belt. The weapon and long hair made the girl look like a knight’s squire, ready to grab their horses as they arrived at a castle.

“Hello there!” the girl said. “Are you the people from Spain?”

“No, we’re from Los Angeles.” Gabriel introduced himself and Maya. “And who are you?”

“Alice Chen.”

“Does this place have a name?”

“New Harmony,” Alice said. “We picked that name two years ago. Everyone had a vote. Even the kids.”

The girl jumped down from the wall and went over to inspect Gabriel’s dusty motorcycle. “We’re waiting for two possibles from Spain. Possibles live here for three months and then we can vote them in.” She turned away from the motorcycle and stared at Maya. “If you’re not possibles, then what are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for someone named Martin,” Maya explained. “Do you know where he is?”

“I think you better talk to my mom first.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“Follow me. She’s in the community center.”

The little girl led them across another bridge where the stream tumbled over red rocks and swirled around in pools. Large houses built in the Southwestern style were on both sides of the road. The houses had stucco outer walls, small windows, and flat roofs that could be used as patios on hot nights. Most of the houses were quite large, and Maya wondered how the builders had trucked in tons of brick and concrete over the narrow dirt road.

Alice Chen kept glancing over her shoulder as if she expected the visitors to run away from her. As they walked past a house painted pastel green, Gabriel caught up with Maya. “Weren’t these people expecting us?”

“Apparently not.”

“Who is Martin? The Pathfinder?”

“I don’t know, Gabriel. We’ll find out soon enough.”

They walked through a grove of pine trees and reached a compound of four white buildings around a courtyard with a stone fountain placed in the center. “This is the community center,” Alice told them as she pulled open a heavy wooden door.

They followed her down a short hallway to a schoolroom filled with toys. A young teacher sat on a throw rug with five children and read from a picture book. She nodded at Alice, then stared at the strangers as they walked past the doorway.

“Little kids have school all day long,” Alice explained. “But I get out at two o’clock in afternoon.”

They left the school, passed through the courtyard, and entered the second building. This contained three windowless offices filled with computers. In one of the rooms, people sat in separate cubicles, studying the images on computer screens while they talked on phone headsets. “Turn the mouse over,” said a young man. “Can you see a red light? That means…” He stopped for a few seconds and stared at Maya and Gabriel.

They kept moving, passing back through the courtyard and into a third building with more desks and computers. A Chinese woman wearing a white physician’s jacket came out of a back room. Alice ran up to the woman and whispered to her.

“Good afternoon,” the woman said. “I’m Alice’s mother, Dr. Joan Chen.”

“She’s Maya and that’s Gabriel. They’re not from Spain.”