“Go now,” she snapped at the boys.

They grudgingly set their baskets on the mat and galloped off.

To her patient, the doctor said, “I have quite a lot to tell you.”

“We heard every word,” they said.

“I know what you heard, and that’s why I won’t repeat their idiot noise. They want me to spell out the possibilities, but I don’t need to spell anything. You understand their plans. Their plans look awful to the nine of us, yes. But my impressions and my frustrations aren’t worth much at all.”

The Eight waited, and the woman said nothing.

Then the long mouth opened, each of them trying to move the huge pink tongue.

She saw the struggle, and she laughed sadly.

They stopped moving, still as the coral beneath them.

“First of all,” she said. “You must, must, must change. I know your circumstances are difficult. I can’t imagine how it would feel, sharing my skull with seven brilliant souls. But this is not a natural arrangement. I told you that long ago and every day since. I think each of you were eaten by the corona but not killed. That stomach was an acidic oven, but you survived. I can’t guess how you managed, but you survived as one body, round as a green nut, and after so much time in that awful state, under pressure, in the worst hell, you were joined. And even after all of my work, I still can’t count how many ways in which you are fused into One.

“But you aren’t One.

“Being many might be wonderful, but I don’t see the wonderful standing before me. And you plainly need to be reminded that we aren’t lying inside a hot acid bath. The trap around you is far worse than any corona’s stomach. From this moment on, your existence will be in question, and that assumes just one of you takes charge of the body and your voice.”

“But that can’t be done,” one of the Eight said, and another said, and then several more. “We’ve tried and failed and failed again. Quit demanding the impossible.”

They spoke the same words, but the tongue and mouth created only a gush of angry, slurring words.

“I don’t care which one of you leads,” the doctor claimed, even though they suspected who was her favorite.

The giant body slumped down on the mat, each soul defending its pieces.

“And that isn’t all of my news,” said the doctor.

None of them wanted to listen. They were sick of papios and their noises. But the doctor’s admonishments were followed by silence and a hard stern stare that caught everyone by surprise.

The giant head rose.

One mind asked, “What do you have to tell?”

“I am like you now,” she said.

“Like us how?”

“I’m more than one.” The woman put her weight on her feet, hands lifting, lifting away the clothes around her chest. “A second entity lives inside me. It’s vigorous and enduring. By all evidence, it took root inside my left breast before spreading to other places, and it should outlive me by a moment or two. Or if someone takes these cells and cultivates them, my companion can live forever.”

They didn’t have words or any useful thoughts.

“Cancer,” she said, exposing the rib-rich chest and the surviving breast and the mutilations masked by padding and vanity. “The cancer is killing me.”

In that instant, each one of them loved her.

“I’m going home soon to die, and you’ll be left here inside the world, and the world is a monster’s stomach too.”

A long slow noise leaked out of them.

“And no,” she continued, “I won’t tell you who should rule that body of yours. But if you keep acting like a crazy beast squatting in the shadows, then my people will have no choice but action.”

She covered her wounds, weeping quietly.

“Believing there’s no choice is the same as having no choice,” she warned. “Can any one of you see that?”

The Archon was elsewhere. Diamond asked when she would return, but nobody seemed to know. Good was riding on Diamond’s left shoulder, growling out of habit. Tar`ro had placed himself beside the boy, growling with purpose. When one of his armed colleagues approached, presumably to help protect their charge, Tar`ro said, “You’ll want to give me distance.”

The other guard didn’t understand.

“Bits,” said Tar`ro. “You were friendly with Bits, weren’t you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then get out of my sight.” Tar`ro waved at the other guards, saying, “Believe nothing and watch each other. Agreed?”

Prima had left her aide in charge. Excited by the responsibility, the young woman led the refugees across the landing and into the atrium. The giant room was filled with sunlight and sorry voices. The blackwood statue of a slayer remained in the room’s center, and when they walked past, habit took charge. Diamond stopped and stared up at that magnificent figure.

The aide had a specific destination. She paused to wave. “Hurry up now please,” she said.

“No, we can wait here,” Tar`ro said.

She shook a finger. “Why here? We’re exposed here.”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t feel safe inside any little room.” Tar`ro gave the space a quick, thorough study. “We can see everybody here, and we’ve got escape routes. So this is where we are going to live for next few recitations. Understood?”

The aide was in charge one moment, and then she wasn’t. Her face turned sour, and a matching voice said, “All right, but not for long.”

Merit and Master Nissim were at the back of the group, talking quietly. People were walking past Diamond. Some of the people were strangers, but plenty of faces were familiar. Some people looked straight ahead, thinking dark important thoughts. Some noticed the boy, staring at him until they felt self-conscious, and then their eyes jumped away. People were holding books and folders and critical sheets of paper. Empty hands often made fists. Nervous perspiration made everyone smell. Office clothes were wrinkled and dark with sweat, and there were green-gray militia uniforms not quite buttoned up, and four uniforms made of fancy green silk were walking together, worn by officers in the District Regulars.

The soldiers approached the famous statue and a tangle of lost kids, paying attention only to each other.

“So it was the papio,” one officer said.

“Evidence says,” another said.

The third officer offered up curses, nothing else.

Then the man at the lead said, “I don’t believe it’s them.”

Others didn’t agree, but nobody dared argue the point.

The ranking officer wore corona teeth on his shoulders and a hat made from fancy red fur. “This was a bee bite. This was nothing. If I were the papio, I’d have hit us a hundred times harder, while I had surprise working for me.”

Then the soldiers were past, out of earshot.

Again, Diamond looked at the slayer’s statue. Up close, there wasn’t any face. The blackwood had been attacked with chisels, leaving a lumpy surface that didn’t look like any human being. Only from a distance did the eyes appear, and that stern smart mouth, and the long noble nose worn by every hero in the history books.

Schoolmates stood close to one another. The littlest girl was watching faces. Her expression was very serious, very hopeful.

Diamond stepped close and said, “Prue.”

She didn’t look at Diamond. “Do you see her?” she asked.

“See who?”

“My mother. Don’t let me miss my mother.”

Good had grown heavy. Diamond poked him in the ribs, and he jumped to the floor, pushing between his boy’s school boots.

Elata was behind Diamond. She was crying again, and Seldom stood beside her, looking as if he was going to be sick. Karlan was in the background, his face flat and dry, lips pressed into a scar-colored line, both fists drumming on his thighs.

“Do you see Mommy?” Prue asked.

There was no name to put to his feelings. Diamond was miserable before he talked to Prue, and this was just a different, newer misery. Looking out at the people, his stomach felt as if it had been cut open, and that’s when a piece of him turned curious, wondering if he would throw up and what that would feel like.