Then she had searched for some way to break out of the room. However, with no tools and nothing but a door and a barred window to work on, she had little hope of success. She thought about trying to dig a hole in a wall, but the surface was too hard. Then there were odd little slitted plates at various places—electrical outlets, she realized. (They didn’t have such things in the human habitat on Keanu.) But she had nothing to jam into an outlet but a finger, and she knew that wasn’t going to do her any good . . . and possibly a great deal of harm.

Forced to leave her Beta unit and bag, Yahvi had been taken off the plane with no immediate violence but still found herself separated from her parents to be held by unfriendly humans in stupid black suits. There were also soldiers with guns, and several other people who all acted very concerned, important, and unhappy.

When Edgar Chang was carried out, followed by Colin Edgely, things had just gotten crazy, with shouting and shoving. The Australian had gotten into a shouting match with one of the officials, a dark-haired man in a suit who had identified himself as Mr. de la Vega, and Edgely had been knocked to the ground.

Rachel and Pav had emerged then, adding to the chaos, which ramped up to a whole new level once everyone got sight of Zeds.

The problem was, the “welcoming committee” seemed divided about its behavior. One group was eager to hit and kick Chang and Edgely, while others kept trying to restrain them.

Neither group seemed to know what to do with Zeds . . . the giant Sentry was goaded to an open area and forced to stand at gunpoint, like a trapped animal.

Soldiers had also carried Xavier Toutant out of the plane, and one of them had shouted something about a possible bomb on board—

That was when everything got worse. Shots were fired and Yahvi was pulled toward the nearest building with such force that she had bruises.

Her last sight of Rachel was her mother reaching for her, shouting for her to “be careful!”

Whatever that meant. She had been careful this whole trip, and look where it had gotten her.

Oh, she was pretty sure they had shot Edgar Chang.

As she was hauled inside the building, she saw something she had had nightmares about . . . an entire wall covered with tiny Reivers, the black units oozing and wriggling like bugs and obviously working with another thing Yahvi never wanted to see:

A whole formation of Reiver anteater types. They were buzzing around like mechanical children, each group of three intent on some action, all of them making Yahvi want to grab a soldier’s gun and start shooting.

Now it was night. She had been locked up in a small room with a cot and no furniture or fixtures other than a sink for several hours. She had no idea where her parents were, or Zeds, or Xavier. She was cold and hungry.

And afraid. She had been so afraid for so long she forgot what it was like to be unafraid.

Her room was on the second floor of the building and looked to the east. (With no experience of landscapes and directions, it took Yahvi a few seconds to make the calculation.)

There, in the dark sky, though still lit by the sun setting in the distant west, was a giant cloud rising from the ground. It looked like a fire.

She hoped it was poison gas. She hoped it would kill everyone who took a breath.

“Hello,” a voice said.

Yahvi blinked and saw that the door was slightly ajar. She had fallen asleep sitting on the bed with her back to the window. That had been stupid; now she hurt all over.

She stood up as Counselor Nigel and his two companions, Counselors Cory and Ivetta, entered. Counselor Cory was holding a covered tray. “How are you feeling?” Counselor Nigel said.

“Like shit. How do you think?”

“Hostility is unproductive,” the female companion, Counselor Ivetta, said.

“You started it.”

“You invaded Free Nation U.S.,” Counselor Cory said.

Counselor Nigel tried to smile. Yahvi realized that he was quite awkward for his age. He had dark hair, cut close, a rosy complexion and brown eyes. If he’d been closer to her age, she might have found him appealing. “Argument is unproductive,” he announced, directing it at his companions as well as to Yahvi. “We can offer you food.”

“I’d rather see my parents and the others.”

“Eventually.”

“What did you do to Chang?”

“I have no information about him,” Counselor Nigel said.

“Or you just won’t share what you know,” Yahvi said. “Fine. Give me some food.”

Counselor Nigel nodded, and Counselor Cory set the tray on the foot of the bed. He removed the lid, revealing several packaged items unfamiliar to Yahvi. “What do I—?”

“That’s right,” Counselor Nigel said, “Keanu humans don’t have packaging.”

He reached out to assist, but Yahvi deftly slid the tray away long enough to tear the first two packages apart. The first one held some kind of sandwich, which smelled pretty good.

The second one held a purple drink that spilled all over the bed. “Oops,” Yahvi said, and drank what was left. Then she devoured the sandwich in four bites.

“Now,” she said, offering not a thank-you but rather a belch. “What did you want to talk about?”

Had she not been worried about her parents and other companions, Yahvi might have enjoyed the interrogation by the team from THE. It consisted of each of the black-suited idiots asking her questions about Keanu (“Can’t you just read all the stuff that got published? It’s sort of true”) or the Adventure mission (“We came to free you, is that what you want to hear?”) or what weapons they carried (“Hands and teeth for me”) or would she be willing to submit to THE training (“Do I have to wear those ugly suits?”).

Every answer, no matter how snarky or snide it sounded, had this virtue: It happened to be true.

Before the questioning, Counselor Ivetta had produced a small instrument with a pair of wire leads that reminded Yahvi of her lost Beta unit. Yahvi knew without being warned that it was a lie detector. As the woman from THE attached the leads to Yahvi’s arm and neck, she asked, “When do I get my things back?”

“The plane and its contents have been legally confiscated by Free Nation U.S.” Counselor Cory said.

“But,” Counselor Nigel said, “we might be able to retrieve personal items . . .”

If you cooperate. Yahvi was able to finish the sentence for him. Well, she had, in her fashion.

The last exchange led Yahvi to ask a question of her own: “Don’t you think I’m going back to Keanu?”

Counselor Nigel assumed his more-in-sorrow-than-anger tone. “Given that your ship was damaged and is thousands of kilometers away, it seems unlikely.”

“What would you do if you were me?”

That question seemed to surprise him. “I’d cooperate,” he said.

“What happens if I don’t?”

Now he just looked at her, blinking. Rachel had told Yahvi once that blinking wasn’t a reflexive act, the eyes wetting themselves . . . it was actually the brain’s way of reloading information.

Once he’d reloaded, Counselor Nigel said, “I’m going to be honest with you. You may not like us,” he said, indicating his companions, “but we represent a growing population that has adjusted to the Aggregates and maybe even made them work for us and not the other way around. We think there is a bright, human-dominated future waiting, if we’re smart. It’s time for you and your family and your friends to be smart. Consider Transformational Human Evolution.”

Counselor Cory took that as a cue to deliver the sales pitch: “No matter what you’ve heard, THE isn’t a religion. It’s really just a better way of looking at the way humans and Aggregates can coexist . . . and how we can apply their knowledge to our evolution.”