“Maybe,” Dale said. “Or maybe Keanu knows it’s nothing to worry about . . . that you already have the ability to evade it or destroy it.”

Jaidev closed his eyes briefly. “This is all guesswork.”

Now Harley slid forward. “And this is what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he said to Jaidev. “Military operations aren’t engineering. There are never any certainties; the figures never add up.”

“‘No battle plan survives contact with the enemy,’” Dale said, surprised that he remembered the old quote from Air Command and Staff College.

“All you can do is make the best plans—which we have—then trust your instincts.” He turned to Dale again. “And my instinct says, go with Sanjay. One thing we can be sure of is that Keanu or the Architects don’t like the Reivers. Why would they bring our man back if not to get rid of them?”

Jaidev stood up. “I’m still not sure.”

“You’ll never be sure,” Harley said. “You want a vote?”

Jaidev snorted. “On the principle that ten average people are smarter than one brilliant one? No, thanks.”

“So what are you going to do?” Dale called after him.

Jaidev turned just long enough to say, “You’ll find out.” Then he pointed to Harley. “And get him out of here.”

“Since when did you become Jaidev’s errand boy?”

Harley was escorting Dale to the passage that led to the tunnel.

“I can see where you might think that,” Harley said, with the smooth, unexcited manner that had served him so well at NASA. “But we voted, and it was unanimous.”

“Get me out of the habitat.”

“Call it taking you back where you really want to be.”

“Even after you picked my brain about Sanjay.”

“I can welcome your opinion, especially when I agree with it, even as I dislike your presence.”

“You’re a complicated man, Drake. Or confused.”

“Cautious.”

They were almost at the exit. Dale knew he could sneak back in any time he wanted; Harley and Jaidev knew that, too. But it would just make it difficult, and given the pressure of time, impossible to take action in a situation like that. “I really need to talk to Sanjay.”

“Not going to happen.”

“He’s a Revenant, goddammit, Harley. And you know I’ve got my own connection to Keanu.”

“Good for you and so what?”

Dale grabbed Harley’s shoulders. “He felt it. I felt it! It means something.”

“It means shit. For God’s sake, one of you is twenty minutes out of the Beehive and the other is . . . dizzy from hunger and not right in the head.”

Rather than slam Harley against the nearest wall, Dale let go of him. “You’re so fucking wrong—”

“No,” Harley said. “You had your say and I listened. But don’t push it. Our whole survival—maybe even the future of the human race—depends on what we do, so it has to be right. You opted out of it a long time ago, and you can’t just walk back in now . . . not with some mumbo jumbo about communion with Keanu. It’s not happening.”

Dale was already walking away. Fuck Harley, fuck Jaidev.

Fuck them all.

It wasn’t until he was a hundred meters down the passageway, headed in the general direction of the Factory, that he was able to stop.

He had to—the noise and imagery inside his head had grown worse with every step. It was the Factory he was seeing, several structures he recognized but had never explored in any serious way. They kept leaping out at him, turning upside down and sideways, like children trying to get his attention—

Feeling that he might faint, he leaned against the wall just as a voice called, “Wait!”

Someone was following him. Who, why? Harley had just expelled him from the habitat, so this could hardly be friendly. Dale turned, prepared to fight.

Sanjay Bhat was jogging toward him. “You are making my new life difficult,” he said, bending to catch his breath.

The images relaxed and settled. Dale felt a calming warmth—a certainty. “Are you doing that?” he asked Sanjay.

“I’m just the enabler.”

“What does it mean?”

“That is still, unfortunately, quite unclear. All I know is, I have been compelled to find you and . . . share this with you.”

“A specific location in the Factory.”

“Apparently.”

“You have no idea why?”

“I hope it will be obvious when you reach it. And you need to reach it soon.” Yes, Dale felt that, too.

“What about you?”

Sanjay glanced far down the tunnel the way he had come. “I am headed back to Earth.”

“Of your own choice—?”

Sanjay laughed. “Since when have we done anything by our own choice?”

“Do you know why, at least?”

Sanjay waggled a finger at him as he turned to go. “Yes, I do.”

Dale couldn’t believe the man was leaving. “Tell me! I need to know!”

But Sanjay disappeared into the darkness. Dale took several steps after him but was stricken by a headache so violent that he vomited.

He wiped his mouth and considered his next move. As Sanjay said, there was no choice. In his many failed or partially successful communions with Keanu’s systems, Dale had learned that the NEO itself had weapons. It was the biggest, nastiest platform around, too, like an aircraft carrier—

For him it was back to the Factory immediately.

What is it like living under the Aggregates?

Most Americans would probably never know the difference. For example, they still vote for their fellow citizens for city council or mayor or Congress or the Senate. And the president. The Aggregates have “representatives” in Washington and most state capitals that parallel bodies of government, but you never see them. (And there is no Aggregate shadow “president,” but rather an entire formation that is in and out of the White House every day.)

Major corporations, and some not so major, also have Aggregate shadows. Again, you don’t see them. (Of course, the fact that the Aggregates shadow every media organization means complete censorship of those images.)

Crime and punishment are a whole different deal, because the Aggregate shadows are particularly active in the penal system, scooping up habitual offenders for work camps and disappearing those who don’t or won’t perform.

What we got: Relatively better national security. Access to new developments in technology. Fewer criminals on the street or in prisons (depending on how loosely you define criminal).

What we gave up: Control of our own destiny as a nation. Free speech and press. Due process.

The horrible truth is . . . a lot of Americans accept the Aggregates. For them, life is sweet and trouble-free.

They just don’t realize that (a) it isn’t theirs any longer, and (b) the Aggregates have a history of using up planets and moving elsewhere, and what’s left behind is usually destroyed.

Personal note: I had a good friend who grew up in the Soviet Union when it was still Communist, so a lot like that.

GERALD MCDOW, INTRODUCTION TO STASIS:

THE HUMAN RACE’S LOST LEGACY POST-2020,

CONTRACTED TO YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS, UNPUBLISHED

YAHVI

“Mom?”

No answer.

“Dad?”

No.

“Zeds? Xavier?”

Nothing.

If Yahvi Stewart-Radhakrishnan disliked Earth based on her experiences at Yelahanka, her arrival at Edwards made certain she would never think of her parents’ home world with anything but loathing. Ever since being hauled up the stairs and shoved into this room by a pair of smiling humans in stupid black suits, she had tried whatever she could: shouting and pounding to start.