“It’s a long hike,” Zack said, searching for a counterargument.

“Until going to Houston last week—or was it a hundred years ago?—I was regularly walking one point five miles every day. Or over three kilometers, for you Metric Nazis.” Even with his dirty khakis, ridiculous safari jacket, and smudged spectacles, Williams seemed determined. “I fancy I can keep up with you, Commander.”

“Call me Zack—”

“Besides, saving your experience of the past week, I’m still more familiar with exotic propulsion systems and concepts for alien spacecraft than anyone here. Before I started telling stories for my beer money, I worked at Hughes.”

Zack had no idea what that meant, but it was clear he was not going to win an argument. When in doubt, embrace the inevitable—

“Fine.” To Harley, he said, “Anything else before I go?”

“Just for grins, and since Weldon and Jones seemed unclear on the motivation, what are you hoping to accomplish here?”

“First, I get to see where you guys came from,” Zack said. “Your magic bubble spaceships.”

“You’re going to be disappointed; they sort of dissolved. We’re talking gone with the wind.”

“There must be something left.” Zack couldn’t believe that a vehicle capable of ferrying several dozen people across four hundred thousand kilometers could just vanish.

“Zack, it was nothing but a pile of powder.”

“That just makes no sense to me. Why build something so…so capable, then throw it away!”

Sasha Blaine had been lurking nearby. “Nothing in this place seems to be permanent. I mean, just look at this stuff.” She scooped up a handful of Keanu dirt and let it drizzle through her fingers. “I get the idea that if you just zap it with the right amount of energy, you can turn this into anything you want.”

Well, one shitload of energy…“It isn’t just, you know, add power.”

“I know that,” Sasha said, changing the subject while reminding Zack of every supremely bright, hyperfocused, slightly awkward grad student he’d ever known. “The goo still has to be programmed, doesn’t it? And I have no idea how.”

“From what you told us, Commander,” Williams said, “the Architects seem to be pretty good at managing information.”

Zack stared at him. Surely this pompous ass wasn’t going to use Megan’s resurrection as a debating point. He decided to end this now. “Well, even if all we find is white powder, we’ll have something to start with.”

Harley sensed the looming problem. “Hey, Zack, look at it this way: Human beings have been throwing televisions and computers away for years, rather than repair them or recycle them. Why should your friends the Architects be any greener?”

“Fine,” Zack said. He had a team of three now. He glanced at Scott and Valentina, who were waiting patiently.

“Why do I need them?”

“You don’t. I just don’t want Scott hanging around here all morning, spreading his brand of cheer. And his girlfriend is attached at the hip.” Then he said, for all to hear: “Since Valya Makarova is our exolinguist, it seems that she would be most valuable in your mission. Suppose you gain access to a passage. Suppose you find a message or one of those Keanu Markers. She’s right there; she can translate for everyone.”

Valya immediately protested. “Really, Mr. Drake, how can you promise something like that—?”

“I’m kidding, don’t worry. No one’s expecting you to be a human Baretta Stone.”

“I think you mean Rosetta Stone,” Dale Scott said.

“Either one.”

As they moved off, Zack kept his eyes on Harley. “And what about Dale?”

Harley pulled two Tik-Talks out of the bag on the side of his chair, handing one to Dale. “As you may recall, Zack, Dale here was quite the communicator during his astronaut days. He’s your radio guy.”

“Jesus, we’re just taking a hike.”

“It’s a couple of clicks. You don’t have to go real-time. In fact, given that the batteries can’t be recharged, you should call only if you need help.”

“I think I told some of you—or some of you heard me—that Megan and I made it to another habitat, a much larger one that looked like it contained a whole city of some kind.”

“How far away was it?” Scott said, still sounding reasonable. “From this habitat, I mean.”

“Had to be on the order of a couple of kilometers.” He pointed directly down the length of the habitat. “But it was on the other end there, and as of yesterday, it was blocked just as completely as this one is.”

“So, what, we just turn around and go back to the group?”

“We can’t simply do nothing,” Zack said. “We have no idea how long we can survive here. I want to know if we’ve got resources, and possibly a way out. I just have this feeling that there’s still a way to get everyone back home.”

“Why?” Valya said.

“Because someone brought us here. Someone built all this, adapted it for humans. Believe me, I saw it taking shape right in front of me. If there’s any order to the universe, this has to be some kind of test—we just have to figure out the rules.” His vehemence shocked him as much as it did his companions.

But Makali was saying, “Mr. Williams, what are you doing?”

“Feel that?” Williams said.

Zack realized he had grown aware of a pulsing hum. Troubling…Got it. “I remember now: I felt that same vibration in the Beehive.”

“The what?” Dale was looking at Valentina. Even Makali seemed confused.

“The place where Keanu seems to generate new life,” he said. He quickly explained about the cells and the second skins that covered the Revenants when they emerged.

Makali and Williams looked at each other. Scott and Valya, too. “What is it?” Zack said.

“To hell with the tunnel and the vesicles,” Williams said.

“Yes,” Makali said. “How far to this Beehive?”

RACHEL

“I suppose you were watching.”

Rachel Stewart found Pav Radhakrishnan fifty meters from Lake Ganges. He was hidden in the rocks, Slate in his lap, with his back to the water and the female bathers, but still: He was a boy, he could see naked women by turning his head. He would peek, count on it.

“What?” He pulled the buds out of his ears, startled by Rachel’s sudden vault into his field of view.

“All of us. The gir-ls,” she said, stretching the word to two syllables. “Without our clothes.”

He made a good show of acting surprised when he turned and saw that, yes, Lake Ganges and its current occupants were extremely visible. “Hey, you’re right. I could have seen all of you…the underage and the really old. In all your hotness, too.”

Rachel sat down next to him. She was hungry again. Breakfast had consisted of more crunchy vege-fruit, and not nearly enough. She had the feeling that wasn’t going to change any time soon. “What’s on your Slate?”

“The usual. Music, some school stuff—”

“Porn.”

Pav looked at her. For a moment, Rachel thought he was going to go all red-faced and defensive…but no. He blushed, yeah, but he also grinned. “Got my needs,” he said.

She took advantage of his momentary relaxation to snatch the Slate away. “Hey!”

She ran.

Her hair was still wet. In spite of total immersion in water, she felt greasy and dirty. Her flip-flops were not the ideal footwear for a race.

But bolting away from Pav and heading for the farthest wall of the habitat…well, it was the most fun she’d had in days. Her father always told her she was healthier and happier when she worked out—or got any type of physical activity at all. Maybe he was right.

She left Pav far behind as she raced through a stand of reeds so tall they were over her head, but spaced in rows. Which was kind of odd, though not insanely odd by Keanu standards.

Off to her left there was a dead patch. She avoided that, partly because she didn’t want to be seen in the open, partly because it looked…brown and white and spoiled somehow, like mold.