Nick nodded.

She had not wanted to hear more. She had not wanted to know anything about this.

She had run from Nick and not looked back . . . and did not talk to him again prior to Adventure’s launch.

She never heard of anyone seeing a dog in the habitat.

It was after the third—or thirtieth—bump that Yahvi said, “I want to go home.”

They had been confined to their seats for more than an hour, ever since the problems in the back of the cabin with Xavier’s machine, and the bad weather. Yahvi wasn’t sure which had come first, though it seemed as though the sudden turbulence had damaged the proteus.

She was in her seat in the second row, on the left side of the cabin. Chang and Colin Edgely were in the first row, right side, hunched over their stupid datapads.

Pav sat to Yahvi’s left, in the window seat. Rachel was across the aisle to her right. She said, “We’ll be home soon enough.”

“When?”

“A few weeks,” her father said, “maybe less.” Which only made Yahvi more angry; she was arguing with her mother.

“That’s bullshit,” she said.

“Don’t swear at your father,” Rachel said.

“Then bullshit to you.”

Yahvi knew that would ignite her father, but Rachel was fast, holding up her hand and silencing Pav. “I’m going to say that that’s fair,” she said to Yahvi. “We brought you along on this. We knew it might be dangerous—”

The plane bumped again. The little bell that Yahvi had grown to loathe rang again, and the Fasten seat belts sign came on.

Yahvi could feel the plane descending. It went so fast that for a moment she could have believed she was back in Adventure! From Yahvi’s aisle seat, it was difficult to see much through the windows, but it was all dark clouds. God! What were these people doing to her?

She turned to look at Rachel.

And what Yahvi saw on her mother’s face made her anger vanish, to be replaced by total fear.

Rachel was afraid they could die!

And if her mother felt that way—

Yahvi did not want to die in this plane, in this stupid seat.

She began to undo her buckle.

Across the aisle, Rachel said, “Pav!”

A seat removed from Yahvi, her father grabbed her arm. “Stay where you are!”

But she was not going to stay here! She jerked her arm away from her father and lurched out of the seat, heading toward the rear of the plane. Surely that would be safer if they hit something . . . and maybe they would crash-land—

There was considerable noise behind her, Rachel speaking forcefully to Pav, Tea offering to help, none of them moving very quickly as Yahvi reached the middle of the cabin, where she had a clear view of Xavier in his seat, still struggling with his stupid proteus. It was no longer making smoke, thank goodness, but it was still in pieces, and with the plane bumping and diving, Xavier was doing very little good.

But he was at the back of the plane—

Yahvi felt herself lifted off her feet and pulled backward. For a frightening moment she thought it was the plane doing something awful.

Then she realized it was Zeds! The Sentry had grabbed her and pulled her into the seatless space where he had been strapped. Yahvi struggled but only long enough to establish that Zeds was going to hold on to her, and there was nothing she could do about it. He was, after all, forty percent taller and a hundred percent heavier.

And had twice as many arms.

None of this kept her from saying, “Let me go!”

“You shouldn’t be out of your seat,” he said.

“I’ll go back.”

“It’s too dangerous to be moving.”

She struggled again; nothing doing. Zeds was still in his e-suit, though he had shed his gloves. She felt as though she had been abducted by a humanoid machine of some kind . . . a child’s toy. It hurt being pressed up against the straps and tools on the front of the suit.

Yahvi said as much.

“You won’t be damaged,” Zeds said. “Just inconvenienced.”

“Mom!” she called. “Make him let me go!”

But Rachel didn’t answer. It was probably because the plane started shuddering worse than at any previous time. Whether it was because she was not strapped down, or because circumstances were different, she had a sense of real forward motion now, mixed with a stomach-clenching rocking motion and even a bit of side-to-side.

She had heard Pav talk about roller coasters and seen imagery . . . This must be what it’s like, she thought. Only you don’t die on a roller coaster.

She must have made a noise—probably a whimper—because Zeds spoke again. “This is difficult, but not impossible. We are probably descending out of the storm.”

“You don’t know that.”

With one of his free upper hands, Zeds pointed toward the window behind Yahvi. “I have been seeing more clear sky and fewer clouds.”

But he still wouldn’t let her go. So she tried another tack. “Aren’t you afraid?” she said. “This is really not your world.”

“My world is not my world,” he said. Zeds often made joking comments; Yahvi realized, after a moment of confusion, that this was one of them.

It took her so long, in fact, that by the time she realized it, the airplane had stopped bumping and the seat belt sign was off.

And Xavier Toutant was saying, “I think I’ve got it now.”

Day Six

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 18, 2040

NYC REPORTS PROGRESS ON LOWER MANHATTAN LEVEE

PRES GERRY TO VISIT MEXICO CITY RE BORDER ISSUES

SEC DEF: U.S. CONSIDERING MISSION TO KEANU

LILY MEDINA SEPARATED AFTER ONE WEEK! NEW PERSONAL RECORD

PACIFIC STORMS DO NOT THREATEN CALIFORNIA

HEADLINES, NATIONAL TIMES,

7 P.M., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 18, 2040

CARBON-143

SITUATION: Midway through a standard workday, Aggregate Carbon-143 and her units were summarily ordered off the line and instructed to form up on the exit platform. The orders came from the highest branch of the information tree.

As one, each disengaged from her workstation, moved back, then rotated to the right before marching out.

Carbon-143 was curious about the value of the maneuver. According to the countdown to First Light, the program was running behind. Surely no information or somatic improvement session was more important than catching up!

As she and her sisters—to perpetuate the human usage—left the assembly and operations building, Carbon-143 noted that other Aggregates were leaving, too, as if the assembly were being abandoned. She scanned up and down her trees and across their branches for information on a possible mechanical malfunction or possible human attack, these being the only two causes that would seem to require such a drastic, formation-wide movement.

Then they received orders to proceed to the storage and staging area, the collection of newly arrived and outfitted vehicles that seemed to stretch to the far horizon.

NARRATIVE: As other formations joined up as they proceeded out of the assembly area, the number of Aggregates grew from 144 to 1,728. Carbon-143 realized that as a unit she was not authorized or programmed for emotions such as pride, but she found an obscure moment of satisfaction in being part of such an impressive team . . . marching in the bright sun with her sisters, if she were careless enough to use human-centric terms.