Again, louder this time, Bits said, “Shut up.”

Then the guard’s gun jumped, seemingly on its own, and the free hand yanked at the boy, dragging him back to where the floor was slick with water and the open doorway was close, and Bits squatted, as if trying to hide in Diamond’s feeble shadow.

“I know why,” said the Master.

The teacher’s arms weren’t busy now. He sat motionless, as still as if fixed inside a painting, staring only at the boy. He was plainly, painfully terrified, which couldn’t have been more sensible, except of course his fears had an added dimension. When he finally spoke, his voice was loud enough to be heard over the splintering wood and the crying children and the drumming engines of the blimp. “This is a warning, isn’t it?” he shouted. “The corona’s children are abominations, and all of us are guilty when it comes to ending this scourge.

“Am I right, Bits?”

The gray pistol came up, punching Diamond on his right ear. Then the man told the boy, “Do what I tell you. Do it. Or I’ll shoot your friends.”

Rail was falling fast. The broad black trunk was plunging, nearly vertical, gaining speed by the instant as the brilliant morning sunshine flooded up through the shredded canopy. Light filled the air outside and inside their room, quicker than even Diamond’s eyes could follow, as if the sun was always here and hiding, eager for its chance to blaze.

Everybody blinked.

The walkway from the blimp was almost to the window, but it rose again, seemingly buoyed up by the brilliance.

Seldom was weeping, staring at the Master.

Elata’s infuriated mouth was closed, and she stared at the gun and Diamond as her hands lifted and found one another, fingers meshing.

Diamond squirmed.

A reasonable, nearly calm voice came from some hidden place. Bits said, “Stay with me, and they get away.” He shook the boy’s shoulder. “Trouble and everybody dies with you.”

Diamond remained perfectly motionless.

Nissim was still sitting and Bits was still squatting, and the pistol’s steel barrel was brushing against the boy’s ear when Sophia ran into the room, starting to yell some important words.

Bits turned and shot her in the jaw, shot her from down low, and the woman’s skull was demolished with the brains and frightening red blood mixing into a fountain of shattered bone.

The screams began again.

Children dropped to their knees, throwing hands over their faces, while Nissim remained on his chair. For no apparent reason, one of the teacher’s hands was shoved inside that beautiful chrysalis, bright slick embryonic fluids pouring free. The chrysalis was pointed at Diamond, and Nissim looked sorry and maybe he started to offer an apologetic sound, but then he fired three quick shots.

Two bullets of polished black coral burrowed their way inside the boy.

Bits was turning, still hunkered down, trying to aim for the teacher.

But Nissim’s third shot clipped the boy’s sturdy collar bone, bouncing and spinning sloppily upwards, and another fragile brain was instantly ripped free of its home.

The floor was wet and twin holes had been ripped through Diamond’s chest. He was conscious, miserably aware of everything. He knew who shouted what and who could do nothing but weep and how every person in the classroom acted once the bullets quit flying.

Elata didn’t cry. Standing motionless, hands wrapped together and her pretty face hardened, she let some deep reflex scrape away her emotions and throw them aside.

Seldom was tears and action, rushing toward Diamond, putting his face close when he asked, “Can you hear me?”

Easily, but Diamond seemed empty of words.

Master Nissim shook his arm and the chrysalis fell away, revealing a stubby pistol built from rare woods and coral. His face was even stiffer than Elata’s. Eyes looked at the dead while the pistol nearly vanished inside the big hand, and the students shouted around him, and the walkway finally, finally pushed through the wind, spring-loaded hooks grabbing hold of the window’s sill.

Making no sound, Good jumped high and landed on the teacher’s arm, big jaws crunching down on the gun and fingers.

Nissim cried out sharply.

Diamond tried to shout, “Stop.” But some thick hot and slightly bitter syrup had filled his mouth.

The gun that shot him was dropped, and the Master saved his hand, and the monkey brought the gun straight to Diamond.

The boy coughed up blood mixed with nameless secretions.

Good carefully set the gun in his hand.

Then an adult appeared in the doorway, attached to another gray pistol. Tar`ro looked at the two bodies lying close to each other. His weapon moved like a nose, as if sniffing the air. Then the surviving guard saw Nissim pressing hard at his bloodied hand, fighting to staunch the flow, and he walked around Diamond, staring at the wounds that were already beginning to heal and the coral gun in his hand and the orange-headed monkey that kept every hair erect, ready to battle anyone who threatened what was his.

Diamond saw that much. But his wounds and what passed for adrenalin pulled most of his focus to places inside him. Ribs were shattered and his flesh was shredded, his heart opened wide and both lungs choking, and one of those fat rock bullets had burrowed into his spine. But those injuries weren’t dangerous. He was certain to survive. Every damaged organ had calmly put itself to sleep, and every essential function was replaced by hidden talents, by secret reserves. He couldn’t remember being any way but alive, yet this was a different kind of life. Breath was unnecessary. Blood was just another kind of clothing, and without a heart, he could be naked while the blood was washed. He felt like a fancy new battery fresh from its box, full of sparks, and maybe this was why he ate so much every day. Invisible motors filled his tiniest places, eager for their chance to help. Those motors gave him strength. Even with twin chest wounds, he felt as if he could pick himself off the floor, running to the window and the walkway, escaping this wicked place.

But he remained sitting on the slick floor.

Another teacher had entered the room—a woman followed by the youngest, littlest children.

And beside her was a huge muscled fellow dressed in brown.

Karlan stared at the gore, impressed and maybe fascinated, and compared to everyone else, utterly calm.

Someone shouted from the world outside.

Three of Diamond’s classmates were already on the walkway, crawling forward, while a furious policeman waded over them, offering up a string of curses when he wasn’t telling the others not to come.

“The boy first, the boy now!” he said.

Something about the classroom was changing.

What was different?

Tar`ro knelt close to Diamond and looked at the monkey, but he was speaking to Seldom. He told the crying boy, “Help me lift your friend come on hurry.”

Marduk had changed. Stillness had claimed the long trunk. It had just happened, and Diamond accepted that as very good news. Whatever force or monster had cut Rail away at its roots had failed with Marduk. Diamond’s tree was too strong to die, and Diamond had known that all along. Joy took hold. Joy caressed him, and now he weighed nothing. Seldom didn’t need to help lift him from the floor. Suddenly everybody was as light and insubstantial as gnats, and the walkway was arched high in the middle, and the blimp had decided to yank itself into a very unlikely angle, as if it were trying to cling to the school’s roof.

The policeman guarding the walkway tried to shout directions or curse again, or maybe he just wanted a deep breath before doing whatever was to come. But his next step was clumsy, and the black uniform flapped hard as everybody in the room started to fly.

The policeman lifted off the walkway, and then he was gone, so quickly that it seemed as if he had never been.