Steal Tomorrow

By Ann M. Pino

© Copyright by the author 2008

“The question is not whether we will die, but how we will live.”

– JOAN BORYSENKO

Chapter One

Cassie stood in the devastation of the ransacked kitchen. Others had been here before her — young people who were just as hungry, just as desperate. Even the spice rack was empty, a bad sign, since it meant someone was hungry enough to consider cloves and dill weed food.

On the other side of the room, her friend Leila admired a waffle iron. “I’d kill for a waffle,” she said, rubbing away the dust and examining her warped reflection in the aluminum.

“I say we try Quail Heights. There’s nothing else in this neighborhood.”

“But there’s gangs on the other side of Callaway Road.”

“There’s gangs here, too.”

“But our gangs know us.” Leila examined her rings, avoiding Cassie’s eyes. “Just because we’re safe here on our own doesn’t mean we wouldn’t need to join a group somewhere else. It might be worse in other parts of town.”

Cassie knew her friend was right. They had tried joining a group before, but the violence of the other young people scared her. They had been without food for two days now, though, and it had been over a week since they last ate anything that quelled their hunger for long. “I’m sure they’re just ordinary kids like us,” Cassie said, pretending an optimism she didn’t feel. “Some of our friends from school are probably still there.”

Leila shook her head, more out of worry than refusal. “I’m going to check the closets. Maybe I’ll find something good to wear.”

While her friend headed toward the back of the house, Cassie went into the garage. In some houses, she had gotten lucky, stumbling upon a cache of MREs or freeze-dried camp food. Such items were usually overlooked by other foragers, most of whom hadn’t had the advantage of growing up with an outdoorsy father and an ex-Mormon mother who believed in storing food for emergencies. Cassie sometimes wondered if her parents would’ve survived had they not been among the first to catch the disease. Her family owned a wilderness retreat and had the skills and supplies to survive, had they been able to get there before the roadblocks went up and the virus worked its way into their genes.

Grief and anger were luxuries Cassie couldn’t afford if she was to make good on her promise that she would survive this thing. Now that the power plants, pumping stations and transportation systems had failed, foraging for food and medicine was all that mattered. She searched the dusty garage, finding lawn chairs and a croquet set, a broken exercise bike and a freezer she didn’t dare open since anything in it would have certainly rotted. Nothing suggested the former inhabitants knew anything more about the outdoors than what could be discovered in their own back yard. There was no hoarded camp food here.

The door opened. In a panic, Cassie reached for the canister of bear repellent at her hip, but it was only Leila.

“Size fourteen. The woman who lived here was a cow.”

It occurred to Cassie to point out that Leila’s mother had worn a size fourteen and Leila’s nipped-in waist and curves were the result of their recent privations and not to any lack of pre-pandemic pizza. Instead, she took in her friend’s freshly painted lips and red silk scarf. “Who are you dressing up for? The rats?”

Leila shook her head, and a pair of long earrings jingled. “Maybe in Quail Heights, I’ll find me a boyfriend who has a stash of decent food.”

“And maybe there’s an Easter Bunny,” Cassie said. “We’ll wake up and this will have all been a nightmare.”

* * *

Getting to Quail Heights had been easy in the old days, just a short car trip away. But neither girl had gas for their families’ cars any more, having used it all driving the city for food and medicine in the early days of the Telo. There were no more gasoline deliveries to the gas stations, and they would have done little good anyway, since the pumps needed electricity. Some of the more powerful gangs had hoarded cans of fuel and drove the streets looking for food, liquor and trouble. But most kids went on foot or bicycle.

Cassie and Leila preferred to walk, since it was easier to carry weapons and trade goods that way.

Abandoned vehicles were just one of the hazards of Callaway Road, paling in comparison to packs of stray dogs and semi-feral children hiding in abandoned shops, watching passersby with suspicious eyes. In the burnt-over remains of a strip center, Cassie and Leila saw a gang of younger children poking in the rubble as if some useful treasure might be found in the ruins. A wild-haired boy with a pistol on his hip glared at the girls, daring them to warn him of danger. Leila tightened her grip on her baseball bat, and Cassie eased a hand toward her canister of bear repellant. After sizing them up and deciding they weren’t worth harassing, the boy returned to overseeing his gang.

“That must’ve been what we smelled a few nights ago,” Leila said after they were out of earshot.

Cassie nodded, remembering that night of smoky air. “I guess it’s a good thing the weather is getting warmer. At the rate these kids are going, they’ll burn the entire city trying to cook and stay warm at night.”

“I bet a lot of it’s on purpose. They burn things because they’re mad.”

“Maybe they did at first,” Cassie said. “But it’s probably all accidental any more. Those kids back there looked too skinny and hungry to be destroying things just because.” She frowned slightly. “They burn stuff down because they don’t know how to build and watch a fire properly.”

“You could teach them. Put up a sign on Callaway. ‘Use Fire Safely, Ask Me How. Price: One Can of Food.’”

“I don’t know if I want to teach anything to these wild brats.”

“How else are we going to barter for better supplies? Once we’re out of liquor and cigarettes, that’s it for trade goods, unless we want to offer ourselves like those girls we saw in the Wal-Mart parking lot at Christmas.”

“Don’t remind me.”

They were into the first ring of houses now, but most had burnt months ago. The girls fell silent, walking the empty streets and fighting the creeping sense that ghosts were sheltering in the still and watchful remnants of what had once been a typical subdivision. Here they had gone to birthday parties as children, slumber parties at twelve and thirteen, and here they had met friends for high school football games, dances and pep rallies. They were used to the changes in their own neighborhood, but seeing Quail Heights for the first time since the Telo left them unsettled.

The first intact house had been ransacked, as had the second. “This was a dumb idea,” Leila said, shivering even though the afternoon wasn’t cold.

At the third house, they found a bag of dried beans, overlooked where it had fallen on the pantry floor and been covered by some paper grocery sacks. “It’ll take all night to soak these,” Cassie said. “But at least we’ll eat tomorrow.”

Leila picked up a silver bracelet, dropped and stepped on in some earlier forager’s departure. She held it up to the light, then placed it on her wrist and fiddled with the clasp. “If we go back now and start soaking them, we may be able to eat tonight.”

“Let’s finish the block,” Cassie said. “And then we’ll go back, whether we find anything else or not.”

Two houses later, they did find something, but not what they were expecting.

* * *

“Here, kitty, kitty.”

It was a male voice, on the other side of the closed door of the master bedroom. Leila and Cassie looked at each other.

“Let’s go,” Cassie whispered.

Leila shook her head. “He’s trying to catch a cat. I bet he’s going to eat it.”

“Another week like we’ve been having and we may be doing the same thing.”

“I thought you cared about animals.”

“That was before we were starving. Come on.”

“No. You’re the one always talking about principles, and eating pets is wrong.” Leila threw the door open, and a blur of black and white streaked past her feet.

In the middle of the room, a young man stood up. He was wearing military fatigues and a leather vest. Long brown hair brushed his shoulders and looked surprisingly clean. “What did you do that for?” He took a step toward them, but his expression was more of frustration than hostility.

“Was that your cat?” Leila asked in a tone that made it clear she knew precisely what he had been doing.

“Are you from PETA or something? It was going to be dinner.” He scanned her face, then Cassie’s, lapsing into an attitude of wary patience. “It’s okay, I’ve got others.” He gestured toward a bulging backpack.

While Leila backed away, her lip curling in disgust, Cassie asked why he needed so many. “They’ll rot before you can eat all of them, and it’s not right to kill what you won’t use.”

“Oh, they’ll get used.” The young man held out his right arm, displaying a blue suede gauntlet that had the uneven look of something made by hand. “I’m with the Regents. There’s about fifty of us living on the north side of Main at the Regency Hotel.”

“This is a long way to forage.”

He picked up the pack and slung it onto his back. “It’s hard to keep a big group fed.”

As he walked out the door, Leila called after him. “Eat your own goddamn strays!”

He stopped and took a few slow steps back. “Why? Are you planning to eat the ones around here yourself?”

While Leila sputtered for an answer, he turned to go. Cassie ran after him. “Hey!”

“What now?”

“Is your group going to be here long? You’re not trying to take this place over, are you? I mean. . .” She rested a hand on her canister of bear repellent. “We’re sorry we scared the cat. We don’t want trouble.”

He smiled, and it was a friendly smile. “We don’t mess with girls who don’t mess with us. Regents policy. And mine.”

“What’s your name?”

He hesitated. “Jay Gallard, but they’ve been calling me Galahad. What’s yours?”

“Cassie Thompson.”

“Cassie, like Cassandra? The one who knew the Trojans were going to die?”

“Just Cassie.”

He gave a jerk of his shoulders and adjusted the backpack. “Well, Cassie,” he said, “good luck to you. And to your friend the kitty-lover.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

Leila and I tried Quail Heights today, but didn’t get much. We met a nice-looking guy, though. I saw how he noticed Leila, and it made me jealous. Starvation suits her, whereas I probably look like some old farmer’s scarecrow.

Actually, I have no idea what I look like any more, except I keep getting thinner. Each place we move to, the first thing I do is make Leila cover the mirrors. She hates it when I do that. Now that she’s skinny like her older sisters were, she wants to see herself every chance she gets. I can’t stand to look in the mirror, though. I’m not sure why.

But now I wonder if I still look okay, or if I’m scary, or what. It’s a stupid thing to care about when I don’t know where my next meal is coming from. There’s certainly no point in being pretty for anyone. Not even for Galahad. I’ll probably never see him again, and besides, he’s in a gang that eats pets. I told Leila we might have to do the same if we don’t find real food soon, but I don’t think I would be able to do it for real. Dad used to say to never say never, especially when it comes to survival situations, but I’m pretty sure he never thought I’d have to deal with something like this.

Chapter Two

Two days later, they ran into Galahad again. This time, he and Cassie startled each other in the garage of a house near the freeway. She had found a stash of camp food and clutched a mylar pouch to her chest. “Finders, keepers. I think there’s a tabby around here, though.”

Galahad came closer and looked at what she was holding. “What is that?”

“Please. It’s been twenty-four hours since our last meal. If I give you some cigarettes, will you go away?”

“I don’t smoke.” He took one of the silver packets and examined it. “I had no idea they made these. Is this where you usually find them? In garages?”

Cassie hesitated. Did she want to take a chance he might steal supplies she would’ve otherwise found for herself? The friendliness in his eyes weakened her resolve. “Yes,” she said. “And in campers, basements, places where people keep their wilderness gear.”

He handed back the packet. “My family didn’t do any camping. I would’ve never guessed to look for food in a garage.”

“What were you looking for, then? Pets?”

“Tools. We need another hex set. The last one went missing.”

This was something Cassie didn’t mind helping with since she already had plenty of tools. “Try forty-three eleven across the street. I saw hex wrenches there in all sizes.”

“You actually know what one is?”

“Did you think just because I’m a girl I only know about lipstick? I’m a certified wilderness survival expert and was signed up for a night class in auto mechanics at the community college before . . . you know.”

Galahad gazed at her with renewed interest. “So was that just what you were into, like some girls used to do ballet?”

“My dad was into backpacking, and my mom grew up LDS. She didn’t believe that whole Book of Mormon thing, but she thought they had the right idea about storing things for hard times.”

“Well, you must’ve learned a lot. Your hair and clothes look clean. You don’t even stink.”

Cassie felt her cheeks grow warm. “Basic hygiene isn’t hard. And every house is full of clothes, so it’s no big deal to get clean ones when we want them.”

“Yeah, but my group forages all over the city, and most kids don’t even try to live like humans any more. It’s like they’ve all reverted to the Neolithic.”

“Why do you think I’m not with a group? My parents made me promise not to forget how I was raised. They said I should use everything they taught me and hold on as long as I could, in case someone finds a cure.” She looked away. “As if. Seems pretty stupid to think anyone is left to find a cure.”

Galahad swiped a hand through his hair. “Listen, would you like to join our group? Regents could use someone like you.” When she hesitated, he added, “There’s safety in numbers, and we’re an okay bunch. You’ll at least get to eat.”

“Eat what? Cats?”

“Not always. And there’s enough of us to forage that the others can stay behind and work on safety, heating and things like that. Division of labor. It’s what makes people civilized. Without it, we’re just animals.”

Cassie considered. A lot of the gangs were wild and violent, but that didn’t mean they all were. It was becoming clear that she and Leila didn’t stand a chance as independent foragers. “Can my friend come, too?”

“The kitty-lover? Sure.”

She found Leila, and once Galahad assured her that the Regents’ menu didn’t always feature household pets, she felt a little better about the proposition. “It’ll be nice to have a group to share the work,” she admitted.

“So how do we get to your place?” Cassie said. “And can we stop and pick up some of our things?”

“Our forage leader is at the end of the block. Let’s ask.”

* * *

The forage leader was a wiry young man named David. He wore his greasy hair tied into three separate tails, and his dark eyes were rimmed in charcoal, giving his face the appearance of a skull. It was a look that had been favored by one of the teen gangs that rampaged through the city during the final days of the die-off. Before Cassie could register her concern, Leila gasped in recognition. “You’re not–?”

“KDS?” David’s eyes met hers in challenge. “Yeah, I used to run with the Kevorkian Death Squad, but my friend here,” he gestured toward Galahad, “convinced me to change my ways. At least for awhile.”

Galahad had been rearranging some boxes in the back of the van, and he frowned in annoyance. “Killing people is no way to live.”

“I’ll remember you said that, and I’ll use it against you.” David’s lips twitched, as if he knew a secret.

“So are the Kevorks still around?” Cassie asked. “We heard they disbanded after there were no more grownups to kill.”

“That’s true. Once they ran out of adults, the younger ones started killing the older ones. People dropped out fast, and now everyone who’s still alive is with some other group. Regents are kind of goody for my taste.” His gaze flicked toward Galahad who was still working with his head down, pretending not to listen. “But they suit for now.” Suddenly he smiled, and in spite of his intimidating appearance, it was a boyish grin that made Cassie want to smile, too. “So I hear you’ve got tools, propane and extra water filters.”

“Yes,” Cassie said cautiously. “I have some survival gear from my parents. Can you take us home to pack?”

“Girls with goods can always have a ride.” He waved them toward the shuttle, but from the way his gaze lingered on Leila’s hips, Cassie suspected his words had more than one meaning. She would need to warn her friend not to get too comfortable with these guys.

It was with a mixture of relief and regret that the girls loaded their most necessary items into the Regents’ battered hotel van. It would be good to have the safety of a group and to escape the memories of their suburban neighborhood. Cassie tucked a family photo album into her duffel bag, but it was with the guilty knowledge that she hadn’t opened it in months and would probably be unable to do so ever again.

They settled into the van with David, Galahad and two other foragers, who all wore blue suede gauntlets. The driver, who appeared barely older than fourteen, turned the shuttle out of the cul-de-sac, and soon they were on their way toward the skyscrapers of downtown.

“So have you done any hunting?” David asked Cassie, settling onto the seat in front of her.

“Just target practice.” Having not been into the city in months, she gazed out the cracked window in curiosity at the wrecked and abandoned cars on the sides of the roads. Some had burned, some were stripped of parts, and some looked like children were living in them, or had tried to for awhile.

“We used to hunt dogs and cats,” David went on, “but they’ve been scarce since winter because there’s so much competition from the other groups. We’re starting to consider park squirrels and pigeons. Any experience with that sort of thing?”

“Traps and snares,” she said absently.

“The ones we’ve tried don’t work.”

“I learned to make some in my survival courses. I can show you.” Outside her window, a group of girls ran out of a grocery store, shouting and waving clubs made from mop handles.

David saw where she was looking. “Brats. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten food poisoning or been picked up.”

“They should be careful. It’s sad what some of the older guys are doing to the girls,” Galahad said.

“Sad for the girls, I suppose. For the guys, it’s just a good time.” David turned back to Cassie. “Speaking of food poisoning, do you know anything about food storage? There’s a girl in our group who knows how to use a dehydrator, but since the electricity went out. . .” he shrugged. “We tried laying some dog meat in strips on the deck by the pool, but it went bad.”

“Did you boil and salt it first?”

He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Boiling! Who’d have thought?”

“And you’ll want some kind of netting to keep the flies off.”

While David mulled this over, Cassie noticed a cluster of signs in front of a church. Some were neatly painted, others less so, and they all seemed to be about sinners.

“Christian Soldiers,” David said, following her gaze. “They blame everyone who isn’t one of them for the Telo. They say it’s punishment for our sins.”

Leila had been listening, and now she leaned across the aisle. “But we’re still alive. Why didn’t God punish us, if we’re so sinful?”

“This is our punishment, Galahad said. “To be living like animals.”

“And don’t worry about being alive,” David added. “If they catch you, they’ll fix that.”

Cassie sat back in her seat. “So is the whole city like this? Just a bunch of tribes squabbling over who gets to eat the cats and whose fault everything is?”

Galahad shrugged. “Pretty much. I wish–”

“Back to what you were saying about drying meat,” David interrupted. “I think we can get netting.” He looked at Galahad. “The Thespians will have some. Maybe we can cut a deal, if they can stand to be parted from their petticoats.”

“Who are the Thespians?” Leila asked.

“They live at the theater,” Galahad explained. “They go around in costumes and greasepaint, but they’re basically all right. We’re on friendly terms with them.”

He was about to say more when the driver cursed. “Roadblock.”

While David and Galahad rushed to the front of the van, Leila and Cassie stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“It’s just kids,” David said with relief.

“Should I try to break through?” the driver asked.

“No. We don’t want to damage the shuttle. There’s enough of us to break up their little nursery party. We might even have some fun.” He drew a pistol from the holster at his hip. “Grab your guns, folks,” he said. “And don’t be afraid to use them if they pull any tricks.”

Cassie hesitated. This was precisely the sort of situation she had hoped to avoid. Reluctantly, she reached for her father’s hunting rifle, which she had brought along in its leather case. Beside her, Leila picked up Cassie’s target rifle, even though she had no clue how to use it. “Just pretend like you know what you’re doing,” Cassie whispered as the shuttle slowed to a stop. “Since it’s just a bunch of little ones, they’ll probably be scared and run off.”

Leila nodded, and they moved to the front of the van.

They had stopped in front of a roadblock made of trash cans, furniture and scrap lumber from burnt buildings. Around it, a group of dirty children glared. Two boys started throwing rocks, but their leader shouted at them and they stopped. He approached the van, brandishing a length of pipe. “This is a toll way. Give us some food.”

“Forget it, brat.” David held his gun high so all the kids could see. “Now clear this road before–”

The crack of a rock on the windshield cut him off.

“You little fuckers!” He fired a shot at the leader’s feet.

The kid jumped back with a yelp, and a storm of rocks, bricks and debris rained down on the shuttle, cracking windows and denting metal as the children whooped and shrieked. David opened fire, and Galahad and the other foragers opened the windows and fired, too. Cassie hung back at first, unsure what to do, but when some of the children rushed the shuttle and began rocking it back and forth, she made her way to a broken window.

“No!” David shouted. “Try to get the leader while I reload.”

Dodging rocks and leaning on the side of the door for balance, she raised the rifle to her shoulder. In the distance, she could see the boy who had accosted them doing something with a bottle and a lighter.

“Molotov cocktail!” Galahad called out.

“Shoot to kill,” said David.

Seeing no other option, Cassie fired.

“I said–”

She tried again, and this time her shot hit home. The boy fell to the ground, and the rioting children paused and looked at each other in confusion.

By now, David had reloaded and rushed down the steps, firing into the crowd. “Get out of here!”

The kids scattered, and David grinned up at Cassie. “Nice work.”

* * *

David praised Cassie on the rest of the drive to the hotel, but she could take no satisfaction in what she had done. She didn’t know whether she had killed the boy or merely wounded him, but it would be the same, either way. Blood loss and infection were just as lethal as any bullet, and murder wasn’t something to be proud of. Besides, in spite of David’s instructions, she had aimed to miss. Seeing the way Galahad was looking at her, curious and vaguely critical, she hardened her features and turned away.

The van pulled into the circular drive of the once-elegant downtown hotel. The glass was broken out of the doors and front windows, and crude attempts had been made to patch the gaps with signs, plywood, and heavy curtains. A teenage girl and young boy stood guard under the tattered canopy, so much alike in features that it was obvious they were siblings. Seeing the shuttle, the girl said something to her brother, and he scurried inside, returning with a group of kids of all ages. David threw open the back doors, and Galahad began handing down their scavenged goods.

As Leila and Cassie stepped off the van, the group paused, cans and boxes in their arms.

“Oh, yeah,” David said. “This is Cassie and Leila. They’ll be joining us.”

A redhead appraised the girls coolly. “They’ll need to be voted on.”

“I know.” He turned to Galahad. “You mind taking them to Mundo? He’s pissed at me right now.”

Galahad led the girls into the lobby, where some youngsters lounged on dirty plush sofas and chairs. They looked up at the group’s approach, and a dog near a girl’s feet lifted his head, but no one made any move to get up.

“I thought you were having school,” Galahad remarked.

“Alaina said we were a bunch of stupid ingrates,” a boy said from where he had draped himself over an ottoman. His clothes were damp with weeks of dirt, and grime was embedded in rings around his neck. He didn’t seem at all concerned about the insult or his education.

Galahad frowned but kept walking, with Cassie and Leila at his heels. They passed the hotel restaurant, but saw no sign that any cooking or eating was going on. They wound down another hallway, carpeted in what was still a blue and gold pattern at the edges, but was mostly dried mud and debris down the center. Walls showed hand prints, graffiti and scuff marks, with only token attempts at cleaning. Finally, they came to a door with a brass plate: Conference Suite A.

Inside, a small conference table was littered with dirty cups and plates, and in a clear spot at one end, a powerfully built older teen sat slumped in a chair while a younger boy with glasses and a lab coat wound a bandage around his hand. They both looked up, and two guards who had been playing cards on a sofa under the window grabbed their weapons and jumped to their feet. Seeing it was only Galahad and a couple of girls, they sat down and resumed their game.

Galahad introduced Cassie and Leila to the young man at the end of the table, and Mundo smiled politely. “Sorry I can’t shake hands. Doc here is slow.”

The boy in the lab coat frowned. “Not my fault there’s no more band-aids. You guys need to be more careful. You’re lucky we’ve still got antibiotic ointment. Once that’s gone, we’ll have to cut a deal with the Pharms.”

Mundo waved his other hand. “Gotta get something they want first.” He looked brightly at Galahad. “So how was the foraging? Anything good besides a couple of pretty girls?”

Before Galahad could speak, Cassie said, “I’m not a commodity.”

“She’s a survival expert,” Galahad explained. “She says she knows about fire safety, plant identification . . . things like that.”

Mundo started to lean forward, but Doc’s tug on his hand stopped him. Annoyed, Mundo stretched his arm back out, but kept his eyes on Cassie, sizing her up with greater interest than before. “So tell me what all you can do. Food and water are our big concerns right now. Winter sucked, and we need to do some long-range planning.”

“She says she knows how to make jerky,” Galahad offered.

“We can’t live off jerky,” Doc said. He finished wrapping Mundo’s hand and dropped his scissors, ointment and bandages into a leather bag. “We need to find a new source of vitamins or we’re going have our teeth fall out from scurvy. And don’t even get me started on pellagra.”

“Have you tried rose hips?” Cassie asked. “If you can find some dead roses, you’ll have plenty of vitamin C.”

Doc’s thin face broke into a smile. “Are you sure about that? There’s a florist shop near here. No one’s touched it.”

“If we can find a book on plant ID, we can find a lot of uses for dead flowers.”

Mundo nodded. “I’ll arrange a guard so you can go to the library.”

Galahad cleared his throat. “She still has to be voted on.” Then he indicated Leila. “And her.”

Mundo turned to Leila with interest. “Are you a survival expert, too?”

Leila had been hanging back, silent, and now her cheeks flushed. “No. I’m sorry. I can sew a little. And cook.”

This answer didn’t please anyone, but Mundo covered for it nicely and told Galahad to find the girls a room on one of the upper floors. “After supper, we’ll have you brought to our evening meeting, and we’ll take a vote on whether to let you join.”

After Mundo dismissed them, Galahad led them from the room and down a dark hallway. “I hope you don’t mind stairs,” he said, picking up a common-use flashlight. “Only group members and VIPs get to stay on the lower floors.” He switched on the light and pulled open the stairwell door. “But you’ll be taken care of. And I’m sure they’ll vote you on, even if it’s only provisional.”

As they puffed their way to the sixth floor, Leila said, “Provisional?”

“There’s three possible outcomes to a membership vote: yes, no, or provisional.”

“But what does provisional mean?” Cassie asked.

“Two weeks.” Galahad pushed open the door at the sixth floor and led them to a musty room at the end of the hall. “After that, we vote again. We’ve only had one person not come off provisional status, and it was because he was lazy, and we kicked him out before he could come up for vote a second time.” Galahad opened the curtains so they could see out the window. “Lots of natural light in here, even if it is kind of stuffy. Someone will be up soon with food, water and a lantern.”

“What about our bags?” Cassie asked.

“They’re safe. Unless there’s something specific you need, you’re better off waiting until after the vote. If you get voted on, you’ll be given another room on a lower floor, and it’ll be just another thing to carry up and down the stairs.”

She nodded and was about to sit down, but the way Galahad stood watching her gave her pause. “Was there something else?”

“What you said about rose hips. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why?”

“My cousin is sick. It looks like scurvy, and he needs vitamins pretty bad. The idiot kept giving away his vitamin ration during the winter, something about doing Jesus’ work.”

“If it’s only a deficiency, we can get him well.”

“And another thing. . .”

From the look in his eyes, Cassie could guess what was coming next. “No,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “I didn’t mean to shoot that boy. I just wanted to scare him.” She looked away, blinking so he wouldn’t see her sudden tears.

To her surprise, he touched her on the shoulder. “You did right. Sometimes we gotta do things we don’t want to do. It doesn’t make us bad people.”

Cassie nodded but refused to meet his gaze. She would have to be tougher than this if she was going to survive in a gang.

After he had gone, Leila and Cassie each sat on a bed.

“You were flirting,” Leila said.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“And don’t lie. You killed that boy on purpose.”

“I did not. Besides, we were in danger.”

“Oh, come on,” she scoffed. “It was just a bunch of little kids.”

“They had Molotov cocktails. They could’ve set the van on fire.”

Leila folded her arms across her chest. “No, you just wanted to get in good with them.” Before her friend could answer, she added, “You want to make yourself look special so I’ll look even more useless than I am.” She lay down and pulled a corner of the bedspread over her face.

“You’re not useless,” Cassie said. “I’m sure you’ve got more to offer than those kids we saw in the lobby. A good attitude is all that’s really needed.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” came the muffled voice from the bed. “They’ll vote you on right away, and I’ll be lucky not to end up alone on the streets.”

“No. We’re a two-for-one deal. They vote us both on, or neither of us.”

Leila moved the bedspread away from her face. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. You know I don’t want to run with a gang, anyway. If we weren’t so damn hungry. . .”

“Yeah,” Leila said. “It makes us do stupid things.”

* * *

Dinner was brought to them in their room — an odd meal of questionable meat that Leila wouldn’t touch and some hard flat things that looked like fried oatmeal. They were given a water ration that Cassie sterilized with the UV sanitizer she kept in her pocket, and after they had eaten and cleaned up so as not to provide temptation for rats or roaches, Galahad returned to take them downstairs.

The girls were led before a motley group of children ranging in age from three-year old Bethany, who was related to the girl in charge of housekeeping assignments, to nineteen-year old Alex, a former college ROTC student who was leader of the guards. Mundo asked Cassie and Leila to go before the group and tell about their qualifications and reasons for wanting to join.

Cassie gave a quick description of her survival skills and interest in herbs and plants. When she fell silent, David and Galahad recounted how she had helped defend the shuttle. With their endorsement, she was unanimously voted on.

Leila, who could only muster up a few vague accomplishments and assurances that she was a hard worker, was given provisional status.

“What happened to this ‘two-for-one deal,’” she demanded once they had been shown to their new room on the third floor, a few doors down from the deck and outdoor pool.

“You were voted on,” Cassie said. “They’ll take you off provisional at the next vote. And if they don’t, I’ll quit.”

“That’s not what you promised before.”

“I said I wouldn’t let them kick you out altogether, not–”

“Oh, forget it.” Leila had finished hanging her clothes in the closet and went to wash her face, using nearly half their water ration.

In no mood to argue, Cassie lay down. “The beds are pretty comfortable,” she offered, hoping to change the subject.

“That’s good,” Leila said in a tone that implied she didn’t care one way or the other.

“I wonder what’s for breakfast in the morning.”

“As long as it’s not pets, I don’t care.”

“Think they’ll give us good assignments?”

“Maybe they’ll ask you to kill some more children.”

Cassie resisted the temptation to call Leila a bitch and went to sleep.

Chapter Three

Breakfast was lumpy hot cereal of various types mixed together and set out on the buffet table in the hotel breakfast room for everyone to serve themselves. A guard stood watch, writing names on a clipboard so there would be no second helpings.

True to his promise, Mundo had ordered a library expedition, so while Leila checked the duty roster for her day’s assignment, Cassie gulped her food and hurried to the lobby to meet her group. Doc was already waiting and greeted her with enthusiasm. “I’ve been trying to get permission for a library trip for a month,” he said. “It’s great to have you here. You’re like a catalyst.”

“I’m not trying to be,” Cassie said, noting the embroidered name “Brody” on Doc’s lab coat.

Doc saw where she was looking. “My dad was a biomedical researcher,” he said. “I like to wear his coats. Mom had them embroidered special.”

Cassie nodded, wondering with a sudden pang if it had been a mistake not to bring her father’s heavy down parka. She had left it behind because the shuttle had been nearly full and she didn’t want to take anything she wouldn’t need now that it was spring. But what about next winter? She would miss the warm thick comfort that had reminded her of her father’s arms as she lay alone in her dark room or sat up late with Leila, whispering her fears for the future.

“I think everyone’s here,” Doc said, breaking into her thoughts.

Cassie looked at the assembled group. She had learned a few names the night before, but many still eluded her. “Looks like a pretty big group just to go to the library. It’s only a few blocks away, right?”

“You need a group to protect your barter items,” Doc explained. “You never know what you’ll run into out there.”

“Two girls got attacked by wild dogs last winter,” said Julilla, a rangy high school basketball star. “But don’t worry. I think most of the dogs have become someone’s dinner by now. It’s the other groups you have to watch out for.”

“And loners,” another guard said. “The ones without a tribe are sometimes worse, especially if they’ve been bartering with the Pharms.”

“Who are these Pharms I keep hearing about?” Cassie asked.

“Don’t you have them in the suburbs? I thought they were everywhere,” Doc said. “They took over the drug stores, and their plan is to get control over the entire city. They’ve got a big network, and you can get just about anything pharmaceutical from them, if you can pay their price.”

“They keep slaves,” someone added. “They get kids hooked on narcotics, then make them work for the group in return for their fix.”

“If one of them is ever after you,” Julilla said, “plan on killing him. They’re usually high on something and do crazy stuff.”

“There’s no reasoning with a Pharm,” Doc agreed.

This information made Cassie rest a nervous hand on the pistol she had been given. It wasn’t a weapon she was comfortable with, but she was glad to have it. She had also been given a blue suede gauntlet, made from material cut from a lobby chair. Knowing she was an official group member helped allay her anxiety about wandering the city streets on foot. With Doc, two young boys carrying their barter items, and six guards, they headed out.

Cassie hadn’t paid much attention to the immediate area the day before, having been too upset by the shooting at the roadblock. Now she looked at the streets disfigured with dirt and blowing trash. Sewers had backed up, disgorging muck into the gutters. Intersections were bare of traffic lights and street signs, which had fallen during winter storms or been pulled down by bored and angry teenagers. Dead electrical lines dangled from poles and snaked across the road, ready to trip the unwary. It seemed nearly every window at street level had been broken, and the stench of rotting bodies wafted out of some of the buildings.

“The last grownups,” Doc said, seeing her wrinkle her nose. “And the kids who’ve died since. Suicide, food poisoning, infections, accidents . . . things like that.”

Cassie didn’t need to be told all the ways young people could die. It hadn’t been unusual in the suburbs to break into a house and find infants dead of dehydration, or a teenager who couldn’t bear the devastation, rotting in a homemade noose. “Why hasn’t anyone buried them?”

“Who should do it? And where? Some of us tried at first, but the cemeteries are full, and it got to be too time-consuming to dig graves in the parks. Then winter came, and we had other problems, like trying to survive.”

“Besides,” said a tall blond boy named Zach, “dead bodies keep the strays fed. Fat dogs and cats go good in the soup pot.”

He watched Cassie’s face for a reaction but, getting none, turned his attention to other matters and was soon deep in flirtation with Julilla.

They arrived at the library without incident, and Cassie admired, as she often had in earlier times, the grand stone building with its stately columns. In the sea of glass skyscrapers twisting their modern shapes toward the clouds, the old library represented permanency, something transcendent that linked the present to the past.

The aura of timelessness was ruined by the guard contingent that met the Regents at the door. Several minutes of negotiations followed, culminating in the Regents being allowed up the steps while one of the library guards ran inside, returning with a tall, serious girl in a plain blue dress and glasses, her hair neatly coiled at the nape of her neck. She settled herself behind a table and examined the Regents’ trade offerings. “These will get you about five fiction, maybe three non-fiction,” she said. “The actual books you choose will determine the final cost.”

Doc nodded, having been through this procedure before. “Do we still get to keep them for one week? And can we choose which items you’ll give back when we return them?”

The librarian gave him a stern look over the tops of her glasses. “Did you have a preference?”

“The two cans of green beans.”

One of the Regents guards opened her mouth to protest, but Doc waved a hand and she remained silent.

“We’ll see,” said the librarian. “Pick some books, and then we’ll decide.”

They were allowed to take one guard with them, so Doc selected Julilla. After being informed that they weren’t to speak above a whisper, they were led to the stacks where other people were browsing, each led by a girl in stern librarian garb carrying a flashlight aloft through the dark rooms. Cassie soon found herself among the plant and wilderness books with a girl of ten shining her flashlight on the spines and glaring up at her from time to time through thick glasses that distorted her eyes, making them look as big as dinner plates. Cassie was disappointed with the selection, but she finally found a book that would suit the group’s needs and went in search of Doc.

She found him examining medical texts. “She won’t let me check out the Merck Manual,” he whispered in outraged tones. Before he could say more, his guide frowned and hushed him. With a sigh, he handed Cassie a book, indicating with hand signals that he wanted her opinion. It was an illustrated guide to home remedies for such ailments as colds, coughs and sore throats, and Cassie nodded in approval.

Upon returning to the lobby, they handed their books to a girl whose badge identified her as a circulation clerk. She made some notes, consulted a chart and conferred with one of the older librarians. It was decided that Doc could have back his cans of green beans if he returned the books within seven days. The other goods they would keep as their fee.

“That’s some operation they run,” Cassie said as they walked back to the hotel.

“They’re efficient, I’ll give them that. Smart move, setting themselves up as guardians of knowledge in exchange for food and protection. But I hear the university has a library with better science resources.”

“We should go there sometime.”

“I keep telling Mundo, but he says it’s too far away. He doesn’t like wasting guards and trade goods on this sort of thing. He only authorized this mission to see what you’d come up with.”

* * *

The children who had been sent to the florist shop didn’t do well. Most of the flowers had been in glass coolers, and when the electricity went out, the roses had rotted in their rancid water. There were a few bouquets that had been on display, and the children brought these back dry and nearly perfect. Cassie examined them critically. There were enough to dose the people who were already showing signs of scurvy, but they would need a lot more.

After a lunch of watery soup, Cassie was allowed to use the kitchen, where she showed Doc how to make rose hip tea while Sandra, the head cook, hovered over the operation, jealous of the intrusion on her turf. When Cassie informed her that the rose petals were edible, Sandra gave her a skeptical look but took the dried petals and put them in a plastic container for safekeeping.

The foraging team returned in the afternoon without much food but with several cases of toilet paper, which made them heroes in the eyes of the children who were suffering from diarrhea. Cassie watched for Galahad to have a free moment, then told him about the roses. “Doc went to dose your cousin, but we’ll need a better source. What we have will last about a week, and that’s only if we treat the people who are already sick. There’s not enough to keep everyone else healthy.”

Galahad suggested a meeting, and after the van was unloaded, he and David gathered a small group in the lobby. Aided by a phone book and the foragers’ good memories, they came up with a list of florists’ shops to search. “But it’ll probably be the same at all of them,” Galahad pointed out. “Everyone kept flowers in those big coolers.”

“What about the rose gardens at the zoo?” a girl asked.

“And the rich people’s houses in Washington Oaks,” someone else suggested. “They used to have a rose tour every year, remember?”

“Too many gangs around there,” David said. “But Mundo might approve a trip to the zoo.”

A few of the younger children clapped and nudged each other in excitement, chatting about giraffes and elephants. Galahad frowned and pulled David aside. After a brief discussion, David came back to the group. “We don’t know about the zoo trip, kids,” he said. “Mundo will decide. It might be too dangerous.”

Something about the exchange struck Cassie as odd. She tried to meet Galahad’s eyes, but he shook his head and walked away. As soon as she could make an excuse, she left the rose discussion and hunted him down. “So what was that about? You’re not planning to go there and get all the roses for yourself, are you?”

“I would never put my own family’s needs ahead of the group,” he said. “Paul is a Regent in good standing and will get what’s fair. The hard part is to keep him from giving things away. That’s how he got sick in the first place.”

“So how come you’re discouraging the zoo trip?”

“I’m not. Not for us, at least. Just for the little ones.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Most of those animals died, you know.”

Now Cassie understood. The children would be expecting monkeys and elephants, balloons and popcorn. With everything else they had endured, they didn’t need to see the rotting carcasses of their favorite zoo animals, too.

“Supposedly there’s a Zoo Tribe that lives there,” Galahad went on. “They use the animals for food when they die, or kill them outright if they don’t die fast enough. They use the hides as a uniform. Or so I’ve heard. None of us has actually seen a member of the Zoo Tribe, but if they do exist, it might be upsetting to the little ones.”

Cassie was about to comment when they came around a corner and found Leila, nearly bursting out of a low-cut sweater, lounging on a sofa. She was talking to an Indian teen who was doing something with a motor. Grease was smeared on the carpet, the sofa and on the boy’s hands, arms and clothes. Galahad walked over. “Is that what I think it is?”

The young man looked up and pushed a stray lock of hair off his face, leaving a streak of grease on his forehead. “If you think it’s an alternator, it is.”

“What are you doing with it?” Cassie said. “And why in here?”

Leila looked at her, annoyed, but tried to make a proper introduction. “Cassie, this is Sid. He went to Van Buren High and was planning to go to Rensselaer and study engineering.”

Sid gave a curt nod. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t shake your hand.”

Cassie took a closer look at what he was doing. “I was signed up for an auto mechanics class at the community college when the Telo–”

“You?” Sid’s look of amazement stopped just short of a sneer. “A girl doesn’t need to fix her own car. Some guy will always do it for her.”

“I like mechanical things. And I was planning on a career as a conservationist. What was I supposed to do if my car broke down in a swamp three hundred miles from nowhere? Call Triple-A?”

“It’s kind of a moot point now,” Galahad said.

“Right.” Leila flashed him a smile before returning her gaze to Cassie. “Sid isn’t fixing a car, anyway. He thinks he can convert these alternators into miniature windmills so we’ll have electricity.”

“Only on windy days,” Sid cautioned. “But yeah, that’s the goal here.”

Galahad and Cassie watched in curiosity, asking questions until Sid became exasperated. “How about you let me get one working and then we can talk about what it will do and how to make more.”

Cassie took a few steps back, mumbling an apology, but Galahad said, “If you want privacy, you shouldn’t work in a public area.”

“And where else am I going to get enough light?” Sid waved a hand at the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Outside is cold and windy, and any room with a door will be too dark. Once we’ve got a few of these generators going, there will be plenty of light. But until then. . .”

“We’ll leave you alone, then,” Galahad said. “I was just on my way to make sure the supplies got stored properly.”

He started walking toward the supply room, and Cassie tagged after him, unsure what to do next.

“Think I can help with the cooking?” she asked. “I know a lot about camp cooking. Foil, rocks, box cookers, dutch ovens . . . things like that.”

“You’ll need to talk to Sandra.” Galahad opened a door and let her go ahead. The hall was dark, but there was a flashlight on a shelf, and he turned it on. “She’s in charge of the food. Me and David just forage.”

“She got a little weird when I was in there making tea. But I thought–”

“Mundo lets her choose her own crew,” Galahad said, guessing what she would say next. “But Sandra is reasonable. And she can always use people who can make food that tastes decent and won’t poison us.”

By now, they were at the storage room, which was guarded by a muscular former wrestler who insisted on being called Eleven. “Go relax,” Galahad told Cassie. “There’s nothing you can help with here. Dinner is at six. It’s a little more formal than the other meals, and the planning meeting will be after, so you can mention your assignment preferences then.”

Cassie did as he suggested and went to her room. She hadn’t been there long when Leila came in and threw herself on her bed.

“How was your day?” Cassie asked.

“Boring. They had me cleaning things, and then I had to help the kids with their lessons. When the grownups died, I thought I was done with explaining fractions to fools.”

“Could be worse. The rose-gatherers mostly found rotting flowers, and I had to deal with a weird library cult.”

“Sounds better than cleaning rat and roach droppings from the kitchen. We’ll have to be careful about what they feed us here.”

“It’s mostly stuff out of cans,” Cassie reassured her. “As long as the pots are clean. . .”

“They had me make sure of that.” She flopped onto her stomach and clutched the pillow to her chest. “This place sucks.”

“You seem to have met a nice guy. I know you weren’t hanging around Sid because you’re interested in mechanics all of a sudden. Or are you?”

“Oh, hell no.” She sat up. “But I’m not stupid. I need to make friends. I’m getting off this provisional status bullshit.”

“But if this place sucks. . .” Cassie said.

“Everyplace sucks since the grownups died. I had no idea. . .”

“Yeah.”

Leila looked like she wanted to say more, but lay back down instead and closed her eyes.

* * *

A little before six, the girls were awakened by a pounding of feet in the hall and children’s voices shrieking, “Dinner time, dinner time, come and get it!”

Leila and Cassie combed their hair, straightened their clothes and headed down the stairs. They mingled with the others as they went into the restaurant and then hesitated, unsure where to sit.

David brushed past them. “No assigned seating, ladies. Anywhere is fine.”

Cassie wasn’t convinced. It clear to her eyes that the dining room was as cliquish as any high school cafeteria. Smaller children sat together chatting with their friends while their young leaders held court. The teenagers sat at their own tables, grouped by what appeared to be a combination of friendship and profession. Guards sat together, talking of training and tactics, while Alaina the teacher and some of the more fashionably dressed girls had their own table where they huddled together trading style tips, showing off their stolen jewelry and casting flirtatious glances toward the boys.

One table was set apart from the others, and this was where Mundo sat with two guards stationed behind him, as if he were a world leader in need of protection. He was flanked on each side by a pretty girl, one of them clearly pregnant and each casting hostile glances toward the other.

Cassie had just taken a few uncertain steps toward Alaina and her fashionistas when Doc waved to her. Glad to feel welcome, she hurried over with Leila in tow. But as Cassie slid into a seat, Leila became distracted by something going on at Sid’s table and went to his side with barely a wave of goodbye. Seeing that Galahad was at Sid’s table, Cassie considered following, but Doc’s eager conversation stopped her.

“I’ve been looking through that book,” he said. “And some of it’s pretty bizarre. There’s this one home remedy for the flu that involves a potato and powdered sulfur. . .”

Cassie listened to him ramble for a bit and pretended to be interested. Meanwhile, children in aprons came out of the kitchen with serving bowls. When her table got their bowl, Cassie leaned forward eagerly.

“The rule at dinner is the same as at other meals,” Doc said. “One scoop apiece until everyone has had some. Then if there’s enough, we can have seconds.”

Cassie poured a strange-looking blob onto her plate, concluding it was Spaghetti-Os mixed with whatever else could be poured out of a can. She noticed, though, that the guards’ table and Mundo’s group got extra food, including recognizable pieces of meat instead of little bits mixed into the rest of the food. Mundo’s table even had liquor. In spite of herself, Cassie found herself thinking of how everyone used to eat before the Telo. What wouldn’t she give to be back in her comfortable suburban home with her mother setting out a gourmet salad and plates of grilled salmon, and maybe some roasted potatoes and fresh bread picked up from the bakery that day. It had been so normal to have a table full of fresh food that it never occurred to her to be grateful.

“So what do you think?” Doc was asking. “It would probably taste disgusting, but pine trees are easy to find, and I bet no one else in town is harvesting the needles.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Cassie said, wishing she had been paying attention.

“But honey is a whole other matter. Do you know anything about bees?”

“Not a thing.”

“Damn.”

By now, they had cleaned their plates, and since there was still food in the bowl, they each got another half-ladle.

“Will there be dessert?” Cassie asked.

“For us? Probably not.”

“But you never know,” someone else said. “It’s happened before.”

“True,” Doc said. “It’s all about what David and them were able to scavenge today.”

As it turned out, there was no dessert, except at Mundo’s table where everyone got a few teaspoons of something that looked like vanilla pudding.

“Don’t bother being jealous,” a girl said, seeing where Cassie was looking. “It’s mostly for show and probably not very good.”

“One time, they all got sick,” Doc added. “I don’t know who got in bigger trouble for that — David for foraging bad food or Sandra for letting it get served.”

Someone else leaned forward like he was going to say something, but Mundo stood up and one of his guards took a swipe at a small brass gong. The room fell silent, everyone waiting to hear what Mundo would say.

“Regents! Thank you all for another good day. Our perimeters are secure, our foragers had two successful supply runs to the suburbs, and we have new water filters. We also have some new ideas for how to generate electricity and an excellent lead on a free source of vitamins.”

He continued with an itemized summary of key events and concerns of the day, then asked each of his commanders to give a report. The group heard what goods had been foraged, what security breaches foiled and what plans had been carried out. When all the reports had been given, new plans were voted on and assignments given for the following day. Then Mundo thanked everyone for their cooperation, led them in a chant of “Keep the Faith” and dismissed everyone for the evening. On the way out, they were each given a flashlight with their room number on it and a mark indicating the date the battery had been replaced. Each flashlight had to be returned at breakfast if the owner wanted to eat.

Since food rations would be docked if the batteries had to be changed more than once a month, Cassie kept her light off and followed someone else up the stairs, only turning her light on when she got to her room. Leila arrived a few minutes later, and they agreed to take turns using their flashlights while they washed and changed into fleece and flannel to go to bed.

“I can’t believe I’m on honeybucket duty tomorrow,” Leila said as she washed her face.

“I’m on for Thursday. It looks like everyone but Mundo and the pregnant girl has a rotation, so you can’t say it’s a job that’s not assigned fairly.”

“In the suburbs, we could go outside.”

Cassie nodded. In their old neighborhood, there had been more options for sanitation, even if it had been harder to find food. “I wonder where they dump the buckets?”

“I guess I’m going to find out.”

Leila finished washing up, then Cassie washed, too, and lay down. When she turned off her flashlight, the darkness overwhelmed her. She had become accustomed to it months ago, but now she found herself missing street lights. The dark of the room pressed upon her like a living thing, not malevolent, but not particularly friendly, either. “I’ll be glad when Sid gets those generators working.”

“Yeah,” came Leila’s voice from the other bed. “He’s smart.”

“You should get him to teach you how to make them. It’ll be a good skill and will make you valuable to the group.”

Leila sighed in annoyance. “I don’t want to do stuff like that. I’ve spent my whole life doing math and science things because I was fat and ugly and it was all I was good for. But everything’s different now. I’m better off making one of the important guys my boyfriend, don’t you think?”

Cassie raised herself on an elbow and looked toward Leila’s bed, even though all she could see was darkness. “Don’t be retro. We can be important people all by ourselves if we play our cards right.”

“No. Your way is hard.”

Cassie lay back down. “I think your way would be a lot harder.”

Leila didn’t answer, and after waiting and hoping they could talk frankly like they used to, Cassie closed her eyes to sleep.

Chapter Four

Weeks passed quickly, and Leila got voted on as a full member. Meanwhile, the weather grew warmer and the hotel became stuffy. Since the building had no windows that could be opened, a planning meeting was held to agree on which ones would be broken and how they would be covered when it rained. Galahad found some box fans at about the same time that Sid got his prototype generator to work, and now there were new assignments on the daily roster. Alternators had to be scavenged from abandoned cars, and tools and parts had to be found.

Galahad’s cousin Paul was well enough to get around and spent every afternoon helping make the little windmills. He was slight and pale, with faint rims of red around his eyes and mouth after his bout with scurvy, but Cassie appreciated his quiet company on the afternoons she could take a break from her other chores and indulge her fascination with mechanics. For his part, Paul enjoyed the way Leila hung around their group, pretending an interest in generators, although Sid showed no interest in her and Cassie had begun to suspect he was gay.

One afternoon as they were busy at their work, there was a commotion at the hotel entrance. Curious, everyone abandoned their projects and went to see what was going on.

In the drop-off area, half a dozen guards in white uniforms with red sashes and berets surrounded a group of boys carrying an enormous curtained box on poles. They set the box down, and one of them pulled the curtains apart. There was a scuffling inside, and then a girl stepped out, so heavily swathed in fur, velvet and jewels that for a moment Cassie wondered what century she was in. Paul whispered in her ear. “Thespians.”

By now, the girl was looking around like she expected something to happen. She was thin and compact, with a face powdered chalk white and eyes rimmed with purple all the way to her eyebrows, making her look as if she had been bruised in a fistfight. On top of her brown curls, she wore a tiara that caught the afternoon sunlight in its prisms.

As two little girls scrambled out of the litter to pick up her velvet train, the Thespian guards all bowed. The regal visitor motioned them to rise, her hand glittering with rings. Then a boy in red velvet blew a sour note on a trumpet, and this seemed to be a signal for silence. Cassie and the other Regents stopped shuffling and whispering. Now that he had their attention, the page scanned the crowd with an authoritative lift of his chin. “The Empress Elissa of the Thespian-Operatics is here to speak with your leader, Reymundo Guzman Morales.”

By now, someone had found Alex, and he pushed his way through the crowd. He gave Elissa the briefest of bows, with a smirk that made it clear he was only playing along. In polite tones that just skirted sarcasm, he welcomed Elissa to the hotel and offered to take her to Mundo personally. “But no more than two guards,” he said. “The others have to wait here.”

Elissa scowled. “I never go anywhere without my retinue.”

From the look on his face, it was clear Alex didn’t know what a retinue was, but he covered for this lapse by restating his previous words. “No more than two armed guards. You can take anyone else you like as long as they leave their weapons here.”

This was deemed satisfactory. With her page preceding her, two guards at her sides armed with fake swords and real M16s, and two little girls carrying her train behind her, Empress Elissa swept into the hotel on a mission of importance.

* * *

After the group disappeared into Conference Suite A, Cassie went back to working on the alternators. But in spite of the group’s good intentions and Sid’s patient instructions, no one got much done. Instead, they speculated on the meaning of the unannounced visit.

“Seems like a bad idea to make yourself so obvious,” Paul said.

“And no way can she run away in that dress if something goes wrong,” someone else pointed out.

“Sitting ducks,” Sid agreed. “Now remove that c-clamp. What do you mean you lost your needle-nose pliers? They were right here a minute ago.”

Just before dinner, one of Mundo’s messengers came out of Conference Suite A and ran outside. A few minutes later, the Thespian guards trooped in and headed toward the dining room.

They were going to feed the interlopers! All thought of finishing a generator vanished, and Cassie and her friends put their heads together, wondering if the Thespians were paying and what they should say to Mundo if they weren’t.

They were still discussing the matter when the dinner gong rang.

“Generosity is good policy,” one girl tried to reassure the group as they headed toward the restaurant. “It’s how we maintain our alliances.”

“Alliances don’t mean jack when you’re dead from starvation,” Sid told her. “If they want to show up at dinner time, let them bring some food with them. Or toilet paper. Or something.”

“How do you know they didn’t? Could’ve hidden a whole damn warehouse under that stupid train she was wearing.”

The group entered the dining room, and Cassie noticed Leila was at David’s table, leaning forward to listen while he talked about something that was clearly bothering him. She started to head over in the hope that they were discussing Elissa and she could get some inside information. Galahad was there, too, and caught her eye, but she was waylaid by Doc, who waved her to his table. She slid into the seat Doc was holding for her and asked why Elissa had come and why they were feeding her guards.

“We’re feeding everyone,” he said. “Including the Empress. Elissa and her retinue will be here any minute.” He looked around. “I think they’re just waiting for us all to get here so they can make a big entrance.”

“But what’s it about?”

“I have no idea, but this is only the second time Elissa has come in person. The first time was to ask our help in a joint action to pressure the Pharms to lower the price of vitamins for the winter. This must be pretty big, or she would’ve sent a representative.”

At Mundo’s table, some children were setting out candles, crystal goblets and bottles of wine. “Looks like they’re going all out,” Cassie said.

“Well, she is an empress. Although when they were just the Thespians, she was only a queen. Merging with the Operatics made her figure she deserved a fancier title.”

They were silenced by a fresh banging on the dinner gong followed by a few short notes on a trumpet. With a regal swish of her skirts, Elissa swept in on Mundo’s arm with the page preceding them. Mundo’s two girlfriends followed Elissa’s train-bearers, looking annoyed. A combination of Regent and Thespian guards surrounded the group, creating havoc by blocking aisles and stumbling into things as they protected the leaders from nothing. Everyone pretended their procession was stately, and when they got to their table and found their seats, they paused before sitting. By now, the Regents had figured out they were expected to stand in the presence of the leaders. It wasn’t their usual custom, but with a scraping of chairs on the parquet floor, everyone got to their feet.

“Friends,” Mundo announced, “I’m pleased to introduce Her Excellency, Empress Elissa of the Thespian-Operatics.” He paused for effect, although only the youngest children were impressed. “She and her people are our guests for the evening, and after we’ve eaten, she has some important news to share with us. But for now, please have a seat and enjoy your meal.” Mundo motioned for everyone to sit.

Dinner was unusually quiet and formal. Elissa’s bodyguards stood behind her throughout the meal, tasting new dishes for her and acting like she really was royalty. This made Mundo and his girlfriends Nisha and Kayleen put on airs, too. Cassie thought the meal would last forever, with dish after dish of food going to Mundo’s table while everyone else ate the usual inadequate slop. After their first glasses of wine, the leaders grew more animated, leaning across their table and sharing jokes. By dessert, it seemed they had forgotten they weren’t alone, and the Regents sat in sullen frustration, watching them eat pieces of chocolate off a plate passed around by the page.

It was Alex, the guard leader, who figured out that they had better quit acting like kings and queens and tell the group what was going on. He said a few words to Mundo, who glanced across the dining room, then got to his feet. He didn’t need anyone to bang the gong for silence, although someone did.

“Regents,” he said. “Our honored guest, the Empress Elissa, has news to share with us.”

At these words, Elissa stood. Her page blew a note on his trumpet, and with an arrogant lift to her head, the empress spoke. “I’ve come to tell you,” she said, “of an alarming new development in the city. We have reason to believe that someone is kidnapping children.”

Cassie and many of the older teens suppressed sighs of annoyance. Kidnappings weren’t new, nor were they something anyone could do much about.

Elissa went on to explain that two Operatic children had vanished recently and that the younger brother of one of her consorts had been stolen in broad daylight by an older teen wearing the signs of a tribe unknown to them. “We’ve heard rumors,” she said, “that these children are being picked up by loners and minor groups and traded to a new gang based outside the city. We’ve also heard that this gang, who kids are calling Obits, sometime come into the city to do their own raids. We don’t know the habits of this group and are conducting an investigation.”

By now, the Regents guards were fidgeting with boredom. Doc leaned toward Cassie and whispered, “Someone’s picking up kids for slave labor. Sad, but it happens all the time.”

Elissa picked up the vibe in the room and glanced to Mundo for help.

“These are not typical child-raids,” Mundo said. “The children are being taken by unknown people who have access to diesel fuel. They’re being put into vans and are never seen again. We have reason to think outsiders are involved.” He looked around the room. “The Thespian-Operatics are asking us to join them in the creation of an alliance for the specific purpose of investigating these kidnappings. If this is a new group from outside the city limits, they must be killed or driven out. If the children can be recovered, we must do so. We will tolerate no disrespect.”

By now, the Regents children were wide-eyed with concern, and many teens who had been skeptical were sitting up and paying attention. When Mundo opened the floor for comments, he got an earful.

“How do we know this is being done by outsiders?”

“It could be just a group of outcasts from here in the city.”

“Kids should stick with their groups. If they get picked up, that’s between them and Charles Darwin.”

Elissa listened in increasing annoyance, butting in once to say, “Wait until it starts happening to your kids. See how smug you feel about it then.”

Finally, Alex stood up. “Whether you believe what’s happening is important or not, an alliance will be a good thing. It will increase cooperation and security for all of us.”

This sparked a few murmurs of agreement, and Mundo seized the moment to put the matter to a vote. “All in favor of joining the alliance, raise your hand.”

Cassie and most of the others raised their hands. Elissa gave a regal smile and made a formal speech of thanks, but although her words were cool, there was relief in her eyes.

* * *

To celebrate the new alliance, Mundo called for a movie night. Sid had managed to recharge a laptop computer, and set it up on a table in one of the ballrooms. There wasn’t enough power for a monitor, but everyone was so happy at the prospect of seeing any movie at all that no one cared. Mundo even authorized a glass of wine for everyone sixteen or older.

Cassie sat with the others, sipping her wine to make it last and watching the images on the tiny laptop screen. It had been so long since she had seen a movie that she expected to enjoy it. Instead, she was surprised to find herself bored. The younger children were mesmerized, but many of the older teens were using the occasion to kiss, grope and whisper about each other. Cassie noticed Leila was snuggled up to David, ignored by Sid and oblivious to Paul sitting on the other side of her. Alaina and her fashion-conscious friends sat together, pointing to figures on the screen and giggling about shoes and hairstyles. In the rows behind Cassie’s seat were sounds that suggested a few couples were sufficiently engaged with each other that they would’ve been better off going to their rooms.

With so many distractions, the movie soon lost its appeal, and Cassie tried to sneak away without attracting attention. She was in the hallway and had just turned on her flashlight when someone said her name.

“I never could get into those romantic comedies,” Galahad said, emerging from the darkness. He motioned for her to turn off her flashlight so they could use his instead. “Where you going?”

“To get some sleep. I promised to help Doc make herbal tinctures tomorrow, and I want to do it early since I’m supposed to teach the garden committee how to plant lettuce in the afternoon. Thanks for finding all those seeds, by the way.”

Galahad shrugged and started walking toward the lobby with Cassie tagging by his side. “No need to thank me for stumbling across something by accident.” They were now walking past Conference Suite A and could hear wild laughter from behind the closed door. Galahad shook his head. “Mundo had better be careful. It’s one thing to make alliances, but if he keeps carrying on like it’s pre-Telo times, people are going to get mad. Just because he’s our founder doesn’t mean we can’t vote him out.”

“It’s not every day we get visited by an empress, though.”

Galahad scoffed. “Alex went to college with her older sister and knows all about the self-appointed Empress. She’s just Elissa Templeton, B-student, failed to make the junior varsity cheerleading team so she got into drama instead. She’s nothing special. She never even had a stage role before the Telo. She was the costume coordinator.”

By now, they were at the base of one of the two great spiral staircases that dominated the lobby. They climbed the steps to the halfway point, then sat and dangled their feet over the side. Galahad turned off his flashlight to conserve the batteries, and Cassie took a few cautious sips of her wine. Observing that he wasn’t drinking, she asked, “Finished your wine already?”

“I gave away my share. I drank enough in the first months of the Telo to last me a lifetime.”

“Me and Leila kept all our liquor for trade.”

“A smarter move than drinking it, that’s for sure.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“So who were you before the Telo?” Cassie finally said.

“I told you the day we met. Jay Gallard, ordinary guy.”

“No special interests? No hobbies?”

“A few. But it was my cousin who was the big dreamer. Still is.”

“From the way he was acting tonight, I’d say some of those dreams are about Leila.”

Galahad shifted position. “I don’t suppose you could put in a good word for him?”

“What would I say? She’s looking for a guy with influence. I don’t think Paul fits her criteria. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Leila never thought she had much going for her,” Cassie went on. “She’s smart, but she was fat before the Telo, and what she really wanted was to be pretty like her sisters. Now that she is, she intends to use it as a shortcut. I don’t blame her, I guess. Being smart is hard work.”

“Well, hanging around David will only get her so far. I like him well enough as a foraging buddy, but he’s no one I’d want to see a nice girl get involved with. He takes what he wants and moves on, if you know what I mean.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her.” When Galahad said nothing, Cassie added, “And I’ll put in a good word for Paul.”

Galahad’s hand touched hers in the dark, then almost as quickly drew back. “Thanks.”

In the quiet of the empty lobby, their talk shifted to ordinary things — chores, people and what the new alliance would entail. Cassie found Galahad’s presence comforting, and the gentle timbre of his voice made her think maybe everything in this crazy world would turn out okay. The wine made her sleepy, and she found herself wishing could lean against Galahad’s shoulder, feel his arm around her waist and listen to his quiet words all night. Instead, she heard the sound of banging doors, stomping feet and excited voices as the movie ended and kids began trooping down the hall.

Elissa stepped out of Conference Suite A, her curls and tiara in disarray. As she started across the lobby, her page ran ahead with a battery-powered lantern, and the girls carrying Elissa’s train stumbled over their feet as they tried to keep up. The rest of the retinue filed in, and her guards scurried ahead to open the doors and get her litter ready.

From their perch on the spiral staircase, Galahad and Cassie watched a crowd of Regents follow the Thespians outside to see them off. “Want to go?” he asked.

“I saw the arrival. It was enough drama for one day.”

He laughed softly, and it was a reassuring sound. “I’ll see you to your room, then.”

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Thanks, but I don’t need help.”

“Can’t a guy do something just because he wants to?” He let go of her hand and turned on his flashlight.

As Cassie followed him up the stairs, she fought the urge to tell him that what she really wished was that instead of lighting her way, he would keep holding her hand. Nothing good would come of that, though. He was what, eighteen? The Telo would get him soon, and even if he was interested in her, she wasn’t sure if she could bear another loss. She feigned disinterest and let him walk her to her room where he dismissed her with a wave. “Good night,” he said. “And don’t forget what we talked about.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

We got a visit from the Empress Elissa today. Those Thespians sure love their costumes and makeup! When I first saw them, I thought they were crazy, since all that time spent fixing themselves up could be better spent looking for food or filtering their water. But the more I think about it, the more I think maybe they’re the sanest of us all. They get to be someone different every day.

Maybe I should make up my face and wear a costume. I could pretend I’m just about anyone but me. I think that’s what Leila is doing with her jewelry and sexy clothes. Being someone else helps her forget, which makes it easier to move forward.

Chapter Five

Cassie dressed in the dim glow of her flashlight and splashed some water on her face. She had waited up late for Leila, only to fall asleep until she stumbled in a few hours later. They had both been too sleepy to talk, and from the way Leila collapsed on the bed without bothering to undress, there would’ve been little point in trying, anyway. Now as she prepared to meet Doc downstairs, she played her light across Leila’s face and found her still asleep, oblivious. Cassie decided against trying to wake her and went to the ballroom that served as a clinic.

The room was separated by three partitions that pulled out from the wall. Doors along the back wall led to a corridor that allowed Doc and his nurses to access each of the rooms as needed.

The biggest room was for triage and short stays. Sofas and chairs had been brought in for friends of the patients, and there were mattresses on the floor for the sick.

The next room was for treatment, with a small bed for examinations and a table covered with thick pads and a sheet in case Doc needed to attempt minor surgery — a thought that made Cassie shudder. There were books in this room, a fully charged laptop computer with a stack of medical CDs nearby, a cabinet for medicine and bandages, and a propane camp stove and pot for sterilizing instruments. Two precious high-powered lights were available, although the operating table was placed near the windows to get maximum sunlight so that artificial light would only be needed for emergency surgery, should such be required after dark.

The last room was a ward full of mattresses arranged in rows. Cassie had heard that anyone who had so much as a cold preferred to stay at the hospital if there was a bed available. No one had time to sit with a sick person, and with no television, internet, cell phones or radio, it was boring to spend all day in one’s room alone. At least in the hospital, there were things going on and other people to talk to.

This morning, Cassie found the ward empty except for a little girl sleeping off a case of food poisoning. While she dozed, Doc and Cassie took stock of their materials, found the relevant instructions in their latest herb book and went to work. They started by boiling jars and lids, then went on to set up a primitive distilling process using dried rose hips and the strongest liquor Mundo could give them — Bacardi 151. “It’s not really the right thing,” Cassie said, “so I hope it works.”

“As long as we’re not using anything dangerous like isopropyl or ethyl, it should be okay,” Doc reminded her. “And Mundo has the foragers on the lookout for Everclear.”

“Good luck to them. There’s probably some kid out there dead or brain damaged off the last of it.”

Doc snickered and asked her opinion on the best way to handle the pine distillate and willow bark. Since she wasn’t sure, they consulted the book.

Time passed quickly. The sun came up, and Doc had to treat a sore throat and a sprained ankle. His overnight nurse was replaced by a thin and serious twelve-year-old named Rochelle. She pored over the herb book with interest, then took over the more repetitive tasks of sterilizing jars and breaking up willow bark while Cassie distilled the herbs.

It was nearly noon by the time they finished, and Cassie was surprised to realize she had missed breakfast and was in danger of getting no lunch, either. She hurried to the lounge and helped herself to a scoop of noodles from one of the chafing dishes on the buffet table. To her surprise, there were cookies for dessert, with Eleven guarding them like precious jewels.

“Limit is two,” he said, writing her name on a clipboard as she took her share.

“I missed breakfast. Can I have extra?”

Frowning, Eleven flipped to an earlier page on his clipboard. Not finding Cassie’s name on the breakfast list, he grunted. “Wasteful to not show up when they’ve gone to the trouble to make food available.”

She didn’t answer.

“You can have an extra half-scoop of noodles. But no extra cookies.”

She took her extra noodles and scanned the room for a place to sit. In a dim corner by a boarded-up window, Leila was staring at her plate, sleepy and sullen, while Paul expounded on something of obvious importance to him from the other side of the table.

“Where’ve you been?” Leila asked as Cassie slid onto the banquette beside her. “No one woke me up, and I missed my morning chores.”

“I had to meet Doc. I thought about waking you up but you looked so peaceful. . .”

Leila mumbled something, and Paul leaned across the table. “I said I’d help you get caught up. Sweeping won’t take any time at all.”

“It’s the garbage duty I’m not looking forward to.” She looked at Cassie. “Did you know the first two floors of the garage across the street are almost completely full of trash and bodies? That’s why it smells the way it does.”

“That doesn’t sound very sanitary. It’s going to get worse in summer.”

“We’re thinking of setting it on fire,” Paul said. “We just need a little spare gasoline and a day where the wind won’t blow the smoke this way. That’s what David says, at any rate.”

Cassie noticed a hint of disapproval in Paul’s eyes as he said David’s name, but Leila perked up and sat a little straighter. “Where is he? Have they already gone foraging?”

“Joint forage with some Thespians,” he said. “There’s a rumor that the girls from St. Catherine’s Prep found a warehouse full of stuff. We’re hoping to add them to our alliance and get a few meals out of it, too.”

All Leila said was, “Oh,” but Cassie could tell from her tone and the way her eyes narrowed that she was less than thrilled to hear David was spending the morning with the girls from the Catholic prep school. Cassie was surprised to feel a pang of jealousy, too, thinking of Galahad around all those rich girls with their perfect hair and clothes. She quickly came back to reason, though. The girls from St Catherine’s were probably as dirty and smelly as anyone else, and might not want to parley. Why should they, if they had food?

“I’m leading a gardening group on the deck by the pool after lunch,” Cassie said, trying to change the subject. “If you finish your chores early, drop by. We’re mostly planting lettuce, but if there’s enough soil and containers, we’re going to start some tomato plants, too.”

“I’ll think about it.” Leila pushed her plate away and stood up. Paul started to do the same, but she shook her head. “I don’t need any help. Thanks.”

Paul followed her with her eyes as she walked away. “She seems kind of down about something.”

“I don’t think she slept well.” Cassie decided not to mention how late she came in and what her suspicions were about the reason for it.

“She’s a pretty girl. And she’s funny when she’s not in one of these moods.”

Cassie nodded in agreement, her mind flashing back to neighborhood parties on summer evenings with their fathers barbequing while their mothers set out bowls of beans and potato salad. She remembered how she and Leila splashed in her family’s swimming pool, diving to the bottom to see how long they could stay before the air in their lungs pulled them back to the surface.

“I guess the Telo messed us all up,” Paul went on. “I keep telling myself that God has a reason for everything, but Jay, I mean Galahad, says God has nothing to do with it.” He fixed her with a piercing look. “Do you believe that? That God would let such a thing happen for no reason at all?”

“I have no idea.” Cassie drew back from the intensity in his eyes and reached for a cookie. It was stale, but she scarcely noticed.

“Nothing can happen without God’s knowledge, so he must have had something to do with it. Either he caused it or he allowed Satan to make it happen. We were an evil, materialistic society, which is probably why.”

“Seems like if he wanted to punish humans for the sins of society, he’d take the kids to heaven and leave the grownups to suffer, don’t you think?”

“No, he left us behind so we’d have a chance to redeem ourselves.”

Cassie shifted in her seat. “Well, this is an interesting conversation, but I need to set up some things for the gardening group.” She stood and picked up her plate so she could take it to the dishwashing crew. “If you or your cousin feel like planting lettuce this afternoon, be sure to stop by.”

Glad for the excuse to get away, she went to the third-floor patio to get ready for the afternoon gardening session. They had salvaged some colorful earthen pots full of weeds and dead begonias. The pots would need to be placed in sunny spots on the deck, and Cassie had to make sure there were enough tools on hand for the entire crew. They were short on actual gardening implements, but there were plenty of serving utensils from the hotel’s banquet facilities that would serve well enough for digging and scooping. As a final preparation, Cassie checked that the rain barrels were full and that there were water pitchers to use in place of watering cans. When she finally set the seed packets out and stepped back to admire her tidy garden setup, she felt a surge of satisfaction.

The gardening detail straggled onto the pool deck, and they spent several pleasant hours in the sunshine, digging out the dead plants from the pots, loosening the soil, planting seeds to the correct depth and smoothing and watering the soil over them. It was quiet, relaxing work, and for the first time in months, Cassie had a sense of genuine pleasure. There was something primal and nurturing about digging in the dirt and watering the seeds. In her mind, she could already see pale green leaves reaching for the sun.

She was dragging a pot to a sunny corner when the swing of the patio door made her stand up straight. Seeing Galahad framed in the doorway, she wiped her muddy hands on her pants. Foolishly, she couldn’t think what to do next and watched him step out onto the wooden deck, carrying a burlap sack. He deposited at her feet with a grin so charming that it left her speechless.

“I found you some potatoes.”

She opened the bag and was overwhelmed by a musty odor and the sight of hundreds of tiny potatoes, bristling with eyes.

“We can plant these, right? Isn’t that what you do once they’re sprouting?”

“Yes,” she said, finding her voice and hating herself for being so tongue-tied in his presence. “We need deep soil for these, though.”

“I was thinking we could bring up some dirt and fill in the pool. It’s not like we use it for swimming, and it’ll probably be safer that way. If a kid falls in, they won’t get hurt.”

Cassie looked at the empty pool and tried to envision it a garden. Being on the third floor, it wasn’t very deep, but it was adequate for their purposes. It had drains, which would be good when the rains came, and if they could get enough soil, it might make a terrific garden. “That would be a lot of dirt to haul up the stairs.”

“Mundo will assign a team,” Galahad said. “We just need to tell him our plan, and he’ll make it happen.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Cassie said, envisioning the swimming pool green with the unfurling leaves of potato plants. She thought, too, of the hash browns, baked potatoes, boiled potatoes and bowls of roasted potatoes they would be able to produce. Anyone could cook a potato, and they stored well. “We’ll get a lot of food out of this. Thanks.”

Galahad shrugged. “Just doing my job. The girls at St. Catherine’s are smart about a lot of things, but didn’t have a clue what to do with sprouting potatoes. They thought they had gone bad and were going to toss them. I pretended to agree they were useless, so they cost us nothing.”

Since there was no more gardening to be done that day, they found a place to store the potatoes and went to find Mundo. “So how’d that venture with St. Catherine’s go?” Cassie asked. “Was the warehouse any good?”

“Not as good as we hoped. A lot of stuff had gone bad — really bad, not just sprouting like the potatoes. But the girls are interested in joining our alliance, so something came out of it, at least. They’ve lost a few kids to the Obits and want to put a stop to it.”

“Does anyone know who these Obits are or what they look like?”

“They wear black uniforms and have vans and transport trucks. But other than that, no one knows much. We don’t even know if they have a real name. Kids started calling them Obits because every time they show up, it’s bad news. They work fast, don’t talk to anyone and are only interested in young children. Some of the St. Catherine’s girls think they might be cannibals, since they never steal food.”

“Do you really think kids would eat each other?”

“A lot of weird things are happening out there. Anything is possible.”

By now, they were at one of the spiral staircases and started heading down, dodging a few children playing ball on the steps.

“Don’t tell me there’s no school again,” Galahad told them. “You want to grow up to be a bunch of illiterates?”

A sullen girl with snot caked under her nose glared up at him. “We ain’t going to grow up, so who cares?”

“Yeah,” a boy agreed, bouncing the ball and catching it. “And even if we do, we’ll just die.”

“Everyone dies,” Galahad said. “It’s no reason not to plan for the future.”

The children gave him disbelieving looks and returned to their game.

Once they were out of earshot, Galahad said, “I’m seeing a lot of this attitude in the city. It’s a bad sign when little kids live like they expect to die tomorrow.”

“You can’t blame them,” Cassie said.

“Says who?”

Cassie gave him a look.

“Yeah, I know.” He ducked his head. “I shouldn’t judge, since I was as bad as any of them in the first couple months. I figured what the hell, who cares any more? But we’ve got to move on. We’ve got to at least try.”

“That’s easy for us to say.” They were now in the lobby, heading toward Conference Suite A. “We’re grownups.”

“I guess we are, aren’t we?” He knocked on the conference room door. “Who’d have thought?”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

We planted lettuce and tomatoes today, and Galahad found us a sack of seed potatoes. Mundo is organizing a bucket brigade to bring up soil to fill in the pool, and I convinced Sandra to let her kitchen staff bring their knives out to the deck later this week to cut up the potatoes for planting.

It’s a good feeling to plant things in the ground, and not just because I know it means food later on. There’s something about the sun and dirt that I like. It feels like hope, like we have confidence in the future.

I think all of us felt the same way because we gardeners sat together at dinner and the sadness, anger, and vicious gossip of the other kids didn’t affect us. While children whined and kids my age flirted, argued and flaunted their weird new jewelry made from bits of plastic signs, we discussed our potato garden and felt optimistic for the first time in I don’t know how long.

After dinner, Galahad said I seemed happy. We hung out for a little while near the stairs, and he asked if I wanted more plants. Oh, hell yes, I do! And then I want–

Enough. I’ll be grateful for what I have and not wear myself out wishing for more.

Chapter Six

Dirt collection for the potato garden began after breakfast, and Cassie immediately saw that even if all went well, it would be a long process. The nearest source of dirt was a park several blocks away, and it would have to be brought on foot because the shuttle couldn’t be spared.

“Potatoes in a couple months will be damn useless if we’re dead because we didn’t look for something we can eat today,” David told her.

“We’ll bring back as much dirt as we have room for,” Galahad added. “And if we find some extra gasoline, maybe we can do a separate run.”

“If you can get some soil from a nursery, that would be best,” Cassie said.

David rolled his eyes. “We’ve got no time to be going to anyplace that isn’t likely to have food or batteries.”

“But what about fertilizer?”

“Use shit. There’s plenty of it around here.”

When Leila came to the driveway to see the shuttle off, Cassie raised her eyebrows. “Your boyfriend has a crude sense of humor.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You’ve been out late with him two nights in a row.”

“That doesn’t make him my boyfriend.” Leila jerked her chin in the direction of a utility cart loaded with empty buckets and laundry sacks. “Can we go? I want to get out of here before Paul finds me and starts pestering me about Jesus.”

“He likes you,” Cassie said as they wheeled the cart into the street. “And he’s probably a better long-term bet than a guy like David. Galahad says–”

“What guy wouldn’t put in a good word for his cousin?” Leila maneuvered their cart around a fallen traffic light. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You’ve been spending time with Galahad.”

Cassie felt her cheeks grow warm. “There’s nothing between us. And it’s not like we disappear for half the night. Anyone can see we’re only talking.”

Both girls held their breath as they passed the reeking garage where they and other groups had been dumping their trash, but once they were past, Leila scanned the streets with a purposeful air. Suspecting she was interested in more than the litter, pigeons and occasional kids walking around, Cassie asked what she was looking for. “We’re not in much danger. Things have been quiet lately, and we’ve got no trade goods.”

Leila frowned at the darkened shop windows. “They say the girl who makes that plastic jewelry has her shop around here. I thought maybe we could take a look.”

“Why? You’ve got plenty of real jewelry.”

“But gold and diamonds are common as dirt since everyone looted the jewelry stores. This girl May makes things that are different. Every piece is unique.”

“But why would you want to wear part of a McDonald’s sign or traffic light?”

Leila sighed in annoyance. “It’s the fashion, okay?”

“We’ve got more important things to worry about than fashion.”

“Lighten up, will you? You used to be fun.”

“And you used to give a damn about things that mattered.”

Both girls lapsed into sullen silence, not even bothering to whisper to each other when they passed a bakery that had been taken over by the Pharms and turned into a drug kiosk. They nodded politely at the painted children out front chanting what the store had to offer, turning away when one boy screeched after them, “You’ll be back! You’ll get lockjaw or rabies, and you’ll be back!”

“See?” Leila said once they were out of earshot. “If you don’t have a protector out here, you’ll die. So it’s either find someone with influence or say screw it and have a good time until we all die, anyway.”

“That’s not the right attitude,” Cassie said, remembering Galahad’s words of the night before. “We have a civilization to think of. This is about something bigger than our own survival.”

“Listen to you — you’re becoming an idealist.” Leila was about to say more but suddenly tugged the cart hard to the right. “There it is! Let’s go check it out.”

Cassie squinted at the shop ahead, its bare canopy frame hung with colorful streamers, chains of broken glass that clattered in the breeze and a sign that said, “May’s Creations.” “We haven’t got time. How about we come back once we’ve got the potatoes planted?”

“It’ll be weeks before we get enough dirt to plant potatoes, and this will only take a minute.”

Curious in spite of herself, Cassie consented. It had been a long time since she had been inside a store that was not only open for business but dedicated to selling things of no practical value. Since their cart contained nothing of interest to thieves, they left it under the awning frame and approached the door, pausing to read the sign, which warned in strictest terms that the shop was under guard and troublemakers would be dealt with. Wondering what kind of guards the place had, Cassie opened the door and looked inside.

The shop was small and dim, partially lit by sunlight from the grimy windows and illuminated in the dark corners by solar-charged lanterns and glowing glass bowls, each a different color. It was these bowls that made Leila draw in her breath in delight, and she nudged Cassie out of the way as she took a few tentative steps inside.

Cassie saw no guards or even a shopkeeper. She looked around in confusion, distracted by the lights, the streamers, the chains of colorful plastic beads and the chimes and mobiles that had obviously been made from old street signs and shattered mirrors. She was beginning to wonder if it was an elaborate trap of some kind when a slim Asian girl emerged from a back room. She was dressed in practical jeans and a sweater, but her long hair was tied up in fanciful loops and braids, accented with scraps of colored cellophane. Her face was painted in elaborate designs that included a butterfly on one pale cheek.

At the sight of Cassie and Leila in the doorway, she smiled. “Feel free to look around and ask questions. I make everything here myself.”

While Leila examined necklaces and earrings, Cassie peered at a globe that glowed faintly blue. It was too dim to make a reading light, but in her mind, she saw the dark halls and stairwells of the hotel and tried to imagine what they might look like illuminated with globes glowing red, blue and yellow. “What makes it light up?” she asked.

“Chemicals,” May said.

“How long do they last? And what do they cost?”

“Depends on the color. Some last up to twelve hours, some only four or five. They’re priced at one food can per four hours.” At the look of disappointment on Cassie’s face, May added, “Satisfaction guaranteed. I’ll replace anything that doesn’t work as promised.”

“It’s not that. I was just thinking what great nightlights they’d make, but they’re not much use to us if they have to be replaced every night. Are these like chemical light sticks, then? Any chance you can tell us how to make them?”

Before May could answer, Leila interrupted, holding up an amber plastic pendant. “How much for this?”

May went to take a closer look. “The acid-etchings cost two cans of food. Or four batteries.”

“No chance you’d take a diamond?” Leila held out a ring-studded hand.

May shook her head. “I’ve got diamonds. If you could find me some more chemicals, though, so I wouldn’t be so dependent on the Pharms, that would be nice.”

Cassie had been examining an acid-etched piece of glass, and now she stood up straight. “You have dealings with the Pharms?”

“A girl’s got to finance her creative ventures somehow. You don’t think I’m surviving off selling traffic light necklaces, do you? They give me chemicals and protection; I make some of their simpler compounds, like menthol and extracted iodine.”

“So can we buy medicines from you directly?”

“No way. Me and the Pharms have an agreement. You’re welcome to buy anything you see on my shelves, but that’s it. Nothing else I do is for sale.”

“I understand,” Cassie said. She turned to Leila, who was leaning into a mirror to examine the way a pair of glass-chip earrings glittered in her ears. “Come on. We need to get to the park.”

“But I like these.”

“So buy them, if you’ve got something she wants. Otherwise, let’s go. They’re waiting for us.”

With a frown of disappointment, Leila laid the earrings on the velvet scarf where she had found them. “I’ll find some trade goods,” she told May. “And I’ll come back.”

* * *

When they got to the park, they found the other members of their group huddled under a tree, shovels and half-full buckets of earth abandoned. A few of the younger children were crying, and the older ones were trying to calm them down.

“It’s okay,” a girl named Riley insisted. “It was just your imagination.”

“An ordinary van,” said Parker, one of the guards. “And even if it was them, what do you think I’m here for? Decoration?”

“What’s going on?” Cassie asked. Between the wailing children and Leila’s preference for shopping, they’d be lucky to get so much as a single bucket of dirt collected.

“Brats thought they saw some Obits,” Parker said. “As if they would go driving around in broad daylight or something.”

“But it was them!” a boy insisted. “You just don’t want to admit it. You’re scared, too!”

“I am not. They don’t want me. Just little ones like you.”

“Stop that,” Cassie said. “You’re upsetting them.” She looked at each of the younger children in turn. “There’s no more vans, and we’re here to protect you. Now let’s dig so we can go back to the hotel and plant potatoes.”

Two children picked up their shovels and sullenly poked at the ground, but the youngest ones stared at her, unmoved.

“See?” Parker said. “They’re hopeless. Might as well let the Obits have them. It’ll be fewer people to eat potatoes.”

“You wouldn’t say that if my father was here!” a girl said.

“But he isn’t, is he?” Parker smirked. “He’s rotting in a pit like all the others.” He began walking across the grass, back toward the hotel.

Shrieking, some of the children ran after him while the ones who remained stared at Cassie with big eyes. Although she would’ve liked to have screamed with frustration, too, Cassie forced herself to take a breath. “Let’s get to work,” she said, gesturing toward the shovels. “I promise you’ll be safe.”

* * *

Their first load of dirt was so pitiful in relation to the size of the swimming pool that Cassie wanted to cry. It didn’t help that the youngest children refused to return to the park, fearing Obits. Since they were slow workers and not very strong, Cassie told herself it didn’t matter. She and Leila rounded up the older children, and they made two more trips, not collecting enough dirt to fill even a single corner to the depth that would be required. Discouraged, Cassie sat on the edge of the pool in the late afternoon sunlight, wondering what to do next.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

She turned to see Galahad walking toward her, a plastic bag of potting soil balanced on one shoulder. As he approached the pool and peered in, she watched his face for a reaction.

He stared for a long moment at the inadequate scattering of dirt, then ripped open his plastic bag and tossed in the rich black soil. “I’ve got two more downstairs,” he said. “But it looks like we’ll need a different strategy if we’re going to have a garden before we’re old enough for the Telo to get us.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Too bad we can’t do this in one of the parks.”

“Too dangerous. And someone would likely come along and dig them up, anyway. But there’s got to be a way to make this work.” Galahad squinted at the pool. “Couldn’t we just bring in enough dirt to make rows, with walkways in between?”

“How would we keep the dirt in place? If we pile it up, it’ll erode when we water the plants.”

“There’s all kinds of scrap around. We could make boxes of some kind.”

Cassie considered. “If there was proper drainage, it might work.”

“Maybe Sid could design something for us.” When Cassie hesitated, he added, “I’m sure he likes potatoes as much as anyone else. Since he considers himself an engineer, it should be an easy job for him.”

They went downstairs and found Sid in the lobby doing things with foil and cardboard boxes. “Getting too warm outside to keep building a fire in the kitchen grill,” he explained. “Heats up the whole damn place, not to mention it’s always been a fire and carbon monoxide danger. So we’re going to start testing solar box cookers as soon as I get a few made.”

“My family had one at our retreat,” Cassie said, taking a closer look. “I didn’t know they could be made with foil.” Seeing some plans on a coffee table, she picked them up. “This looks familiar. What are you going to use for the window part?”

“There’s broken glass everywhere,” Sid said with a wave of his hand. “And if it doesn’t suit, I’ll break more.”

“What we actually came here for,” Galahad said, “was to talk to you about our potato garden.”

Sid fixed him with a withering look. “I’m an engineer, not a farmer or landscape designer.”

“And if you want something to cook in your shiny box, you’ll help us out. Consider it civil engineering.”

They locked eyes, and Sid looked away first. “Okay. But if I help you design something, that doesn’t mean I’m going to build it for you, too. And I’ll need some help with these box cookers to compensate me for my time.”

“I’ll help,” Cassie said. “I know what they’re supposed to look like, so it’s no trouble. I’ll even help teach Sandra and them how to use them.”

Reluctantly, Sid got to his feet. “Okay, show me this potato project.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

The potato garden isn’t going to work as planned, but this afternoon, Sid made a sketch of how we could do it with a lot less dirt than we originally thought. It’ll have rows of boxed-in areas with the soil built up to about two feet inside, surrounded by walkways on the concrete floor of the pool. Each box will have drainage holes at the bottom so the roots don’t rot and the water will run down the drain in the pool. The design is a good one, since it means we’ll be able to walk around all the plants to weed and water. And the sides of the boxes will pull away at harvest time so we don’t have to dig.

Galahad says there’s materials in the hotel’s storage areas that we can use to build the boxes, but it got late and we didn’t have a chance to go down there. He’s going to have David and some of the other foragers help him in the morning, and Sid promised to be on hand in the afternoon to guide us in putting the first one or two boxes together. That will give the rest of us time to get more dirt and for me to help finish building the solar cookers like I promised.

Other than that some of the kids thought they saw Obits this morning, it was a good day. Galahad even sat with me at dinner, and Leila was civil to Paul, who can’t take his eyes off her. Poor Paul! He’s so in love, and she’s so not interested.

Chapter Seven

As the days grew warmer, so grew Cassie’s pool garden. Each morning, she walked the rows, rejoicing in the green sprouts poking out of the soil. She and her more dedicated gardeners devised a soil-building area where they added waste and worms, turning the soil as needed to prepare it for when the new boxes would be built, so there would be enough good soil to fill them.

She consulted her latest gardening book, trying not to worry that they were planting many of their seeds too late. Anything was better than nothing, and they had to make the effort. The new solar cookers on the far side of the deck were an asset to their garden, since scraps from meal preparation could be added to the compost pile to enrich the soil.

Of all her plants, Cassie treasured her potted roses the most. Dug up from the zoo gardens and planted in plastic buckets along a patio railing, they were starting to bud again after Cassie had pruned them. She remembered the look of disgust on David’s face as he deposited a rosebush at her feet, saying, “This is so we can grow vitamin C, got it? Chicks don’t get flowers from me.”

“Of course,” Cassie said, knowing from Leila what David would and would not give.

Galahad had given her a rose bush, too, its roots and bundled soil wrapped in a scrap of plaid flannel. “Feel free to enjoy mine when they bloom,” he said. “In fact, I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

Of course, that plant had become her favorite. It was the first she checked on in the morning, it was the one that got a bit of extra coffee grounds or fertilizer when she had it to spare, and it was the last one she looked at before cleaning up for dinner, touching a leaf for luck before going inside.

But this morning, the carrots were of greater concern than the roses. Cassie drew some of the younger gardeners to the planters on the deck and tried to show them the difference between the carrots and the weeds. “We need to thin them out,” she said. “Otherwise, there won’t be room for the carrots to grow big.”

At the sound of footsteps on the wooden deck, Cassie looked up, but it was only Leila, her new earrings of silvered glass glittering in the morning sun. David wasn’t one to give gifts, but he occasionally allowed Leila access to foraged goods, and she took them in trade to May for new jewelry. As always, though, Leila wanted more.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” she said. She looked at the planter and the children crowded around it. “Shouldn’t they be practicing their reading or something?”

Cassie wiped her muddy hands on her new gardening smock. “I’m beginning to think this sort of thing will be a lot more useful to them in the end. They only need to read well enough to understand how-to books. Shakespeare and Tolstoy won’t be much help.”

“What about perpetuating our ‘great civilization’ as you and Galahad like to talk about?”

“There will always be a few scholars to keep the higher knowledge alive, just like in the Middle Ages. But if everybody starves to death. . .”

Leila tossed her head, and her earrings jingled. “Right. That’s why we’re taking May a solar cooker — so she won’t starve or poison herself and deprive us of the civilizing influence of art and jewelry.”

* * *

At Cassie’s insistence, they took a utility cart as well as some shovels and bags for collecting dirt. “It would be stupid to go halfway to the park and not bring back soil for the garden,” she pointed out. “Besides, we can hide the box cooker under the empty sacks on the way to May’s. That way no one will try to steal it from us.”

“Like any of those street kids would know what a box cooker was,” Leila said. But she agreed to the plan, and soon they were off.

The streets were quiet, but the stench of rot and sewage was stronger than usual. “We may have to move to higher floors of the hotel,” Cassie said. “To get away from the smell and the flies.”

“David says they still plan to burn some of it.”

Cassie gave Leila a skeptical look. “If they do, I hope it’s on a day when the wind will blow the smoke away from us. The smell of burning trash and bodies is disgusting.”

“At least it would only be for a day,” Leila pointed out. “Unlike letting everything rot forever.”

When they arrived at May’s shop, they found it in disarray, with May pacing the floor, cursing. “Bastards! I was only gone half an hour!”

“Who did it?” Cassie asked. “And what did they take?”

“It’s not so much what they did out here.” She gestured at the shop, which was untidy but didn’t appear to be missing much. “It’s what they did in back.”

“Did they take your acids?” Leila asked in concern.

“The acids, the bases, some of my catalytic metals, and what they didn’t take they tried to destroy.”

“Who are ‘they?’” Cassie asked, but Leila shushed her and took May by the arm, speaking in reassuring tones.

Cassie followed them into a back room that was equal parts laboratory and art studio. Shattered glass lay everywhere, and strange chemicals spilled over counters and onto floors. One of the liquids had flowed into contact with a gray powder, and together they were fizzling into the countertop. Leila and May were talking chemicals with an earnestness that Cassie found dizzying. It was the first time since the Telo that she had seen Leila use her brain for anything more than fashion, bitterness and trying to find a boyfriend. And until now, Cassie hadn’t fully grasped the depth of May’s knowledge of chemistry.

On the other side of the room were half-finished art projects, including jewelry, paintings and an attempt at a sculpture. Cassie was staring at a mosaic of shattered traffic lights, trying to make these disparate clues about May’s character fit together in her mind, when she heard the word “Pharms” and turned around.

“I told you they weren’t reliable,” Leila was telling May. “David says a lot of them are former KDS — Kevorks. They’re only out for themselves, so if the Obits are offering a better deal–”

“No,” May said. “It’s not like that. The Pharms aren’t deserting to the Obits, they’re working for them. Gang-for-hire sort of thing.”

“Well, what they’re offering must be pretty good,” Cassie said, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation. “You make basic meds for them to sell, and you’d think they’d find that valuable enough to protect.”

“Only thing I can think is that the Obits have a drug connection of some sort,” May said. “Maybe they’re large-scale dealers.”

The girls pondered, looking glumly at the shattered vials and broken equipment.

“So who do you think did all this?” Cassie asked again. “What were they after?”

May shook her head in dismay, and Leila patted her shoulder.

“Could’ve been anyone,” Leila said.

“But crimes don’t happen for no reason. Who knew she didn’t have protection today?”

“No one I can think of,” May said.

“Maybe one of the Pharms tipped off a friend,” Cassie suggested. “Or maybe they want to scare you.”

“Maybe,” May said in a doubtful way. “I think someone just saw an opportunity.” She rubbed her painted cheek, smearing an artistic butterfly into a blob. “I guess I’ll find out if the Pharms were involved when they come back from their mission.” She gave Leila and Cassie a weak smile. “If they care about the work I do for them, they’ll give me back my guard.”

“Where did they go, anyway?” Cassie asked, already suspecting the answer.

May gave a resigned shrug. “They’re kidnapping children for the Obits.”

* * *

When they got back to the hotel, they hurried to tell Mundo what they had heard. A guard let them into Conference Suite A, where the first thing that caught the girls’ attention was something in the center of the conference table that was clearly a cake, even though it was lopsided and lumpy with only a thin scraping of frosting on top. Over stubby glasses of whiskey, Mundo was talking to Alex and a young man in a blue costume that looked like a Civil War uniform. The three looked up as Cassie and Leila stepped into the room, and the soldier touched the bill of his forage cap in greeting.

“We heard some news about the Obits today,” Cassie said.

Mundo motioned for the girls to sit, and after they had settled themselves in stained plush swivel chairs, they related what they had seen in May’s shop and what she had told them.

“Interesting,” said the Thespian soldier, rubbing his chin. “I wonder what the Obits have that’s good enough to tempt a Pharm.”

“Drugs, gasoline, ammo?” Alex offered. “There’s a lot they could be offering.”

“The more important question,” Mundo said, “is where the Obits are getting it, whatever it is.”

“It would be nice to find a new source of goods, that’s for sure,” Alex said.

“Even if it’s not something we want,” the Thespian agreed. “There’s always trade.”

While the boys mulled the possibilities, the girls eyed the cake with naked hunger. Cassie was on the point of asking if she could have just a tiny slice when the door to the back room of the suite opened and Doc stepped out. At Mundo’s questioning look, he said, “Blood pressure is high, but other than that, she’s fine, as near as I can tell.” He shut the door behind him and lowered his voice. “The book listed some possibilities I don’t like, but since we can’t do anything about it, the best thing is for Nisha to rest, take her vitamins and drink plenty of water. She should make sure the water is good. Run it through the filter, even if you think it looks okay.” He glanced at the girls. “I don’t suppose either of you has had a baby or knows someone still alive who has?”

Cassie and Leila shook their heads.

“Well,” Doc shrugged. “She’s young and basically healthy, so we’ll do what we can and try not to let her get too anxious. Worrying would only make things worse. For her and for you.” He was looking at Mundo now.

Mundo nodded in agreement and turned to the Thespian. “Anyone in your group experienced with babies?” When the soldier made a gesture of bewilderment, Mundo said, “Ask around if you get the chance. This will be my first kid and the first Regent baby. I want it born healthy.”

Talk returned to speculation about Pharms and Obits, but Mundo noticed Leila and Cassie seemed bored. “If that’s all you have for us, no need to stick around.”

The girls stood up, still looking at the cake.

“Go ahead,” he told them. “You’ve done good work today.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

Things are getting weird. Somebody trashed May’s lab, but not in a systematic way that would’ve done them much good. It was almost like they were looking for something and, when they didn’t find it, they got mad. May acted like she didn’t know who did it, but there was something about the way she acted that made me think she had a pretty good idea who targeted her and why.

One of Mundo’s girlfriends — the pregnant one — is having complications. Poor Doc! He has no idea what to do and neither does anyone else. Doc just turned fifteen a couple months ago. I bet he’s never even been with a girl, and it must be hard for him to examine Nisha, being clueless not only about pregnancy but about females in general.

I have mixed feelings about seeing a girl my age having a baby. If the human race is to survive, we’re the only ones who can do it, even though we won’t live to see our kids grow up. But is it right to try to carry on? What if the Telo never goes away and life ends somewhere around eighteen for everyone, forever? In that case, it would be best for no one to have babies and for us all to die out. I know it’s a bad thing to think, but I can’t help myself. The only reason to keep trying is in the hope the disease will mutate or we’ll become immune.

That’s what Galahad says, at any rate. He says the reason the Black Death became less lethal was because once there weren’t enough people to spread it easily, the disease couldn’t find enough hosts and the germs died. Of the people who remained, many were immune, anyway, or didn’t get as sick as the first generation who encountered the plague.

So maybe that’s what will happen with the Telo. In that case, we should do what we can to make sure girls like Nisha have healthy babies, even though I still feel like some parent or teacher is going to come swooping down the hall to say how girls shouldn’t have sex until they’re married. Like how would we get married, with no priests or judges?

I know there’s no one but us to say what’s right and wrong, but it’s funny how the grownups still live in our heads. They only taught us what made sense for their world, though. This world is different.

Chapter Eight

Cassie examined her garden boxes, frowning. The potatoes should’ve all sprouted by now, but only half had done so. She had watered and fertilized, and there was plenty of sun. The potatoes had been bristling with eyes when she planted them. There was no reason for them not to have grown.

Annoyed, she dug in one of the boxes with an old spoon. Finding nothing, she dug deeper. Still nothing.

How could this be? She had planted this particular box herself. She dug more aggressively, turning up plenty of loose soil, but no potatoes.

Suspicious now, she turned her attention to another box. Again, nothing. She stood for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. After a few deep breaths to fight her rising anger, she threw off her gardening smock and stomped downstairs.

Ignoring the hostile look from Mundo’s guard, Cassie burst into Conference Room A. “Someone stole my seed potatoes right out of the ground!”

Mundo, Alex and, to her surprise, May all stared up at her. “We’ve got bigger worries right now than potatoes,” Mundo said. “May has been raided again.”

“I’m sorry about your art,” Cassie told her. “But this is about whether or not we eat this fall.”

“And this is about the Telo,” she snapped. “And maybe about the Pharms and Obits, too.”

Mundo motioned Cassie into a chair. “Since you’re here, you might as well stay.”

“It’s not top-secret stuff, anyway,” Alex added. “We’re just trying to connect the dots so we can make a plan.”

“This time she was there when it happened,” Mundo explained. “They tied her up and questioned her about . . . what was it again?”

“Somatropin,” May said. She moved her chair so she could meet Cassie’s eyes. “They wanted to know if I knew how to make it and didn’t believe me when I said no. As if I could make it in that primitive lab, even if I knew how.”

“But what is it?” Cassie asked, noticing the raw patches of rope burn on May’s wrists.

“Human growth hormone,” she said.

“But what’s that got to do with the Telo? Telo attacks the genes.”

“That’s the mystery,” Mundo said.

“One of the guys who interrogated me said his brother had Telo,” May said. “He told me he would die if I didn’t make him some somatropin.” She gave a small shrug. “He could’ve been crazy, of course. Or confused.”

“But it’s interesting,” Alex said. “Why would someone think such a thing would help? That’s a pretty specific request.”

Mundo nodded and was about to say something when there was a perfunctory tap at the door and Mundo’s girlfriend Kayleen entered, pulling Doc along by the sleeve of his lab coat. “I told him it was urgent,” she apologized. “But he was more worried about some brat’s infected foot.” Kayleen threw herself into a chair in disgust.

“I think it’s starting to gangrene,” Doc explained.

“Amputate,” was her answer.

“I’ll remember that’s your solution if it happens to you.”

Mundo waved a hand. “Enough.” He leaned forward. “Your dad was a biochemist, right?”

“Biomedical research,” Doc said. “Why?”

Mundo explained what had happened to May that morning. “So what do you think? A link between Telo and hormones is stupid, right?”

Cassie could see by the stillness of Doc’s features and the distracted way in which he sank into a chair that something Mundo was saying hit home. “My father was an rhGH researcher under contract to Sandoz. He was one of the creators of Omnitrope, a synthetic growth hormone, and he was conducting human-subject testing on a next-gen version of it when the Telo started.”

Mundo frowned in irritation. “Translate that into English, please. Did he know something about the Telo?”

Doc took a breath, and Cassie noticed his hands were clenched as if in prayer. “He got a phone call one night. People were dying, and things were getting crazy. Dad went out in the garage to have some privacy, but something the guy said pissed him off because he started yelling. We could hear him all over the house. He said it wasn’t ethical. He said he’d rather die because at least he’d die with a clean conscience.” Doc bowed his head and stared at the table.

“So can find out more?” May asked. “Like who called him and what the conversation was about? What did his research turn up that was so unethical?”

“I don’t know.” Doc gave a small shrug. “My dad’s papers and laptop were at the lab when he became symptomatic. Security wasn’t letting people leave with company property, in case they died before they could bring it back. All the records of his work are probably still there somewhere.”

“So let’s go to the lab,” Cassie offered.

The others gave her a look that suggested she wasn’t very bright.

“Pharms,” Doc said. “I went there soon after he died, and they had already taken over. They let me have his lab coats and a family photo from his office, but that was it.”

“But that doesn’t have to be the end of it,” Alex said. “We don’t know how hard it is to sneak in and out of a Pharm operation because no one’s ever tried.”

Mundo shifted in his chair. “Sounds like a lot of risk for something we don’t know will be of any use. I don’t want to jeopardize our trade relationship right now. Nisha may be needing pain meds and antibiotics soon.”

“Narcotics aren’t good for her,” Doc said. “And we can trade with one of the other tribes for antibiotics if she develops puerperal fever or something.”

“Besides, with all due respect, this is more important than one pregnant girl,” May added.

“No.”

“Come on, man.” Alex leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “Let me take a team over there and scope it out. For all we know, there might be no danger at all. They could have drugged-up guards, a bad lock, an unguarded fire escape — until we look, we can’t say what kind of risk is involved and whether or not it’s worth it.”

Mundo drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Fine. You can check it out. But don’t go in until we have a chance to talk about this again.” He stood and looked around the table, his gaze settling on May. “Would you like to stay here, or would you prefer an escort back to your place?”

May gave a weak smile. “I’d rather move my whole operation here. But that would make people suspicious, and besides, I seem to be in a good spot to hear things. It would be best if I went back. Alone.”

“That’s stupid,” Alex said. “Let me send someone with you. One of the girls, so it’ll look like you were out delivering jewelry.”

“I’ll go,” Cassie offered.

Alex raised his eyebrows. “You’re not a trained fighter.”

“I can handle a gun and pepper spray.”

“I’ll send Julilla. If you want to tag along and Mundo has no objection, that’s your lookout.”

Mundo shrugged. “If you’re caught up on your chores, it’s all the same to me.” He stretched like a lazy cat, then gave a nod to Kayleen, who was still sprawled in a chair, looking bored. “Let’s go in the other room, babe. I’ve got an assignment for you.”

Without a word, Kayleen stood up and went into the back room, unbuttoning her blouse as she walked. Mundo dismissed the rest of the group and followed her, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Cassie guided May down one of the hallways that led to an emergency exit. Although the halls were supposed to be kept clear, the beam of her flashlight played over mounds of trash, and the reek of urine made her long to not have a nose. Doc said people could become used to any smell, but at times like this, she was skeptical.

She was glad to reach the exit, where she tapped on the door and waited. After a moment, there was an answering tap on the other side, and she shoved the door open and stepped into the sunshine with May at her heels.

“Took you long enough,” said Julilla. She hardly looked herself, dressed in ordinary civilian clothes instead of guard fatigues and wearing three of May’s plastic-shard necklaces. Seeing that Cassie was staring, she added, “Don’t you dare say I look good.”

“Okay.” Cassie stifled a smile and adjusted her bracelets. Dressing like fanatical customers of May’s enterprise was fun, but she worried it might have disadvantages. She patted the colorful, glass-spangled purse slung over her shoulder and felt the reassuring bulge of her can of bear repellent. She could only hope one of her bracelets wouldn’t snag on something if she had to grab it quickly.

“Come on.” Julilla gave a jerk of her chin. “No one saw you come out of the hotel, so we should be clear.”

They headed toward the shop via the less commonly used streets. May and Cassie walked together in front, with Julilla lagging behind, watching for shadows in broken shop windows and keeping her hand on the pistol at her belt.

“I had really hoped Mundo would take on this project,” May said as they walked. “He’s got that whole alliance thing, so it’s not like he can’t find the manpower.”

“He’s worried for Nisha,” Cassie said. “She’s having strange symptoms, which makes it a bad time to piss off the Pharms if the mission fails and our people get caught.”

May waved a hand in disgust. “He doesn’t care about babies. He just thinks having one proves his manhood. And it’s not like he doesn’t have other girlfriends. I’ve heard how he treats Nisha. He’s using her as an excuse.”

Out of a doorway, a thin and dirty dog limped up to them, teats swollen. She paused a few feet away and put her head down in a submissive gesture, whining.

“Poor thing,” Cassie said. “She’s hungry.”

Julilla drew her pistol. “So are we.”

“No.” Cassie put a hand on her wrist. “Can’t you see she’s nursing? She’s got puppies.” When that didn’t move her, she added, “If those puppies grow up, that’s more dogs for us to eat in the winter.”

Julilla put the gun away. “Maybe we should build a kennel and raise some.”

Cassie acknowledged that this would be a good idea and suggested they ask Mundo to put it to a vote. Then, since they had nothing to offer the dog, she shooed it away.

“So if we’re able to get into the lab,” Cassie said as they continued on, “I wonder if those papers will even be there. Or the laptop. What if all the data is on a server?”

“True,” May said. “The only thing we know for sure is that we’ll learn nothing if we don’t try.”

“I hope if we get anything, it makes sense. It would suck to go to all that trouble only to find Doc can’t understand any of it.”

“I’ll be able to read it if he can’t.” At Cassie’s questioning look, May added, “I had pushy parents. They wanted me to be a great scientist and did everything they could to make it possible.”

“But that still–”

“I’ve won national awards and Ivy League scholarships. I entered college at sixteen.” By now, May had ducked her head and was turning red underneath her makeup. “Funny thing was that all I really wanted to do was art. I’ve never been happier than since the Telo. I’m free.”

Cassie thought of her own ordered world and the loving parents who had encouraged her dream of being a conservationist. “Nice to hear it was good for someone.”

“So if we find something, I’ll be able to read it, even if it’s technical.” May tried to catch Cassie’s eye. “But I was very clear with Mundo and Alex. I’m not turning back into a scientist. I’ll explain anything Doc can’t figure out, but that’s it. I’m only in this to make sure I can have peace to keep doing my art.”

“You don’t care that this could mean the difference between doing art for another year or another sixty years?”

“I don’t believe in that ‘rebuild the world’ crap. If we cure the Telo, start holding elections, working jobs we hate and paying taxes, who cares if we get a few extra decades? Better to have a year of heaven on earth than sixty years of hell.”

Julilla, who had been ignoring their conversation, silenced them. “Trouble,” she said as three young men separated themselves from the shadows of a loading dock and emerged into the street. The rest of their group moved to the curb, but made no other move for the moment.

“Nice day,” said the oldest of the boys. He looked each of the girls up and down. “Where you headed?”

Julilla stepped out in front. “None of your damn business.”

One of the other boys, dressed in a filthy cop uniform and with mirrored glasses hiding his eyes, pressed his face close to hers. “Everything’s our business on this street, bitch. Now where–”

“Off your street, if you’ll get out of our goddamn way.”

The first boy made a swipe at Julilla’s ponytail. Cassie fumbled for her bear repellant, but before she could get it out of her bag, May gave a shout and a blade flew past her, embedding itself in the cop’s throat. While he scrabbled at his neck, the other two boys stared in confusion.

“Run!” Julilla urged, and the girls took off down the street. For a moment, the boys were too startled to follow, then Cassie heard shouts, hurried footsteps, another shout, and then nothing but the pounding of her own feet and the panting of May and Julilla beside her.

When they got to the end of the block, they turned onto a larger street in neutral territory. Here they paused to catch their breath in front of the looted remains of a bank.

“That was a close one,” Julilla said, trying to regain her cool.

“Good job with the knife,” Cassie told May. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I didn’t,” May said. “It was that girl in black. Didn’t you see her?”

Cassie and Julilla shook their heads.

May sighed in annoyance. “While you were arguing with those bastards, a girl and guy dressed in black came out of a building across the street. They saw what was happening, and the girl threw a knife.”

Julilla considered. “Are you sure? She’s impressive.”

“I wonder if we can recruit her,” Cassie said.

“If she’s that good, she doesn’t need our protection,” Julilla pointed out. “But I wouldn’t mind finding out who she is and if she gives lessons.”

May rolled her eyes. “Can we just hurry up and get back to my place? I’m beginning to wish I’d never headed out the door.”

“After what happened this morning, I’m surprised you want to go back,” Julilla said, keeping her pistol unholstered as they began walking again. “You should take Mundo up on his offer. Or find some other group for protection. It’s obvious the Pharms don’t think you’re valuable enough to give you what you need to be safe.”

May disagreed. “I like my independence. If I joined a group, I’d be spending most of my time on chores. No thanks.”

“But isn’t that what you do now, making aspirin and menthol for the Pharms?” Cassie asked.

May looked away and changed the subject. “Think you can take a look at the box cooker you gave me? One of the guys who raided me this morning kicked it and bent a reflector panel. I never could get it to heat evenly, anyway, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Cassie said. “No problem.”

* * *

Cassie and Julilla elected to take the most direct route back to the hotel. By now, Julilla had shed her necklaces and seemed more like herself without the cumbersome clicking burden around her throat. “Well, this sure isn’t how I planned to spend my morning,” she said.

“Me, either,” Cassie said, thinking of her devastated garden. “I was going to work on my potatoes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Someone stole them.”

“Probably the little ones. No upbringing at all. They’re more convinced they’re going to die than we are.”

“If they keep eating our seed stock, I’m sure they will. I just wonder how they managed to not get sick.”

“They’re getting to be like stray dogs. They can eat anything. We’re the ones still wishing we had Big Macs and pizza.”

“Or a nice salmon filet.”

Julilla looked at her askance. “Something tells me we grew up in different neighborhoods.”

“I guess it’s all the same now, isn’t it?”

“Sucks that this is what it took.”

Cassie agreed. “Isn’t it funny, though, that we formed new tribes of our own? Makes you think maybe it’s just human nature.”

“Could be,” Julilla said. “I’ve seen some pretty crazy shit since the Telo, but it’s really just the same shit as before, repackaged. You can change a lot of things, but you can’t change the fact humans are pretty fucked up.”

They walked in comfortable silence past some children singing and doing tricks for food donations, past a group of tweens lolling on the curb passing a bottle of vodka back and forth, and past an enterprising young man and his two painted girlfriends selling questionable meat on sticks and even more iffy plastic-wrapped lumps that the girls claimed was caramel. When they came upon a heap of burning trash, however, they paused. The toxic-smelling smoke billowed into the street for most of the next block, and children were streaming out of the area, coughing.

“Damn,” Julilla said. “I’d been hoping we wouldn’t have to take another detour.”

“We could see if there’s anything around to make masks with,” Cassie offered.

“Too dangerous. God only knows what they’re burning. Smells like plastic, and it could contain asbestos and mercury, too, for all we know.” Julilla gave a jerk of her chin. “We’ll go around. Keep your pepper spray out and your eyes open.”

The next block was crowded with other young people who had the same idea, so even though a few toughs lined the sidewalk and suspicious faces peered from broken windows, no one who kept to the center of the street and minded their own business was accosted. Cassie and Julilla returned to their main route with relief, assuming the worst was over. Cassie was about to remark on how much simpler it had been compared to their walk to May’s when a horde of shrieking youngsters poured out of a side street and surrounded them.

“Give it up, bitches. What you got?”

A pair of grimy hands reached for Cassie’s bag. “Hand it over!”

Cassie hit him in the face with a stream of pepper spray, and the boy dropped to the ground screaming and clawing at his eyes.

“What’d you do to him, cunt?” Another boy launched himself at her, only this time the wind was wrong and she didn’t dare press the nozzle of her repellant, for fear of getting a face full of pepper spray herself. Julilla, kicking and slapping at the hands grabbing for her clothes, fired into the air, but it did little to deter the assault. Both girls fought for clear angles of attack before one little girl with broken teeth and evil in her eyes threw herself into Julilla’s line of fire. The report of the gun and sudden gush of blood halted the attack long enough for Cassie to spray a healthy dose of repellant on every child in reach. With shrieks and curses echoing in their ears, both girls took off running.

They wove around trash, feces and broken glass, dodging peaceful street musicians and dirty beggar children. They ran in a panic, attuned only to the path ahead and the sound of footsteps behind them faltering, then dying away, only to be replaced by an engine and the crunch of tires over broken plastic. What now? Pharms? Obits? Some other low-lifes who had managed to acquire a little gasoline and were hunting young women for sport? Their lungs burning with the effort, they picked up their pace, nearly tripping in their effort to get away.

They heard a shout from the vehicle behind them. Someone called their names, and they slowed just enough to glance over their shoulders, hardly daring to believe their luck. It was the hotel shuttle, and Galahad and David were leaning out of the windows, yelling.

The girls stopped, dizzy with relief and fatigue. The van slowed to a halt, and they stumbled up the steps, collapsing onto the ripped vinyl seats. The van started again with a jerk, and Cassie reached for something to hold onto, a sudden cloud of spots before her eyes and a rushing in her ears. Galahad reached a hand to steady her, but his voice was less than kind. “What the hell were you doing?”

* * *

Julilla recovered first and told the foragers of their adventures while Cassie lay back and closed her eyes. When Julilla started telling about the mysterious girl in black who had thrown the knife, David interrupted.

“It wasn’t Thing Two, was it?”

“Who?”

“Thing One and Thing Two,” Galahad explained. “We’ve heard about them, but only seen them once. They dress in black, and no one knows if they’re friends, siblings, lovers or what.”

“We didn’t see them, either,” Julilla said. “We were too busy holding those bastards off. May described them to us.”

Cassie opened her eyes and sat up. David and Galahad had their heads together, talking quietly, but then Galahad glanced at her and their eyes met. Confused and embarrassed at the anger in his face, she looked away.

“What’s weird,” David said, “is that they’re not known for being altruistic. They’re not with a group, and they take what they can get wherever they can get it. I don’t know why they’d help a couple strangers out of a tight spot.”

“You’re sure May didn’t know them?” Galahad asked, looking at Julilla now.

“She acted like she didn’t.”

“You’ll need to give a report when we get back,” David said.

Julilla sat up taller. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence, and when they got to the hotel, Cassie slipped away to her room, too exhausted and mentally sick to go to the kitchen and beg Sandra for something to eat. She needed to clear her head, to forget the dirty hands grabbing for her in the street, the smell of toxic smoke and the anger in Galahad’s eyes.

But instead of sleeping, she twisted the covers and shoved her pillow this way and that, unable to get comfortable. Every time she closed her eyes, the events of the day rushed back, followed by older memories of those first fearful weeks of the Telo, when gangs like the Kevorkians roamed the city, killing adults out of mercy, then in anger and impotent frustration. She remembered, too, the stench of funeral pyres and bodies tossed into pits with no one left to cover them.

She was relieved when she heard the children racing the hallways announcing dinner. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to eat, but anything was better than being alone with her memories. And where was Leila? She usually came back to their room to fix herself up for meals. She must be with David, in which case she already knew about Cassie and Julilla’s misadventures with May. And to think she hadn’t come to check on her!

Cassie didn’t see Leila or David at dinner. She avoided Galahad and sat instead with Doc, who kept her distracted with innocuous chatter about bandaging techniques, methods for dealing with a possible chicken pox outbreak and whether or not Nisha was suffering from pre-eclampsia.

“What worries me,” Doc said, “is that the books say there’s nothing we can do about it if she is. There’s no cure except to have the baby, and she might go into seizures when she does.”

“Well, if there’s nothing we can do about it. . .” Cassie hated to sound callous, but she wasn’t up for discussing babies right now. She also couldn’t stomach the meal of foul-smelling soup. That and the sense that Galahad was staring at her was almost too much. She had been better off in her room. Would this meal ever be over?

But after supper and announcements, she couldn’t get away because Doc wanted her opinion on an herbal tincture, then Alex cornered her in the hallway to get her version of what happened on the trip to May’s. After that, Paul followed her to the garden, where she had hoped to find a little peace among her roses. He wanted to know if she had seen Leila and whether she thought God was punishing May for being worldly when she could be focusing her creative energies on bringing people closer to Jesus in these troubled times.

By this point, Cassie wouldn’t have cared if May was in league with the devil himself. She had to get away from all these people, all these questions, or she would go mad. Even though going back to her room meant she would probably toss and turn like she had that afternoon, at least she would be alone.

As luck would have it, Galahad was waiting in the hallway.

“Please,” Cassie said. “Whatever you have to say, can it wait until tomorrow? I’ve already heard enough for one day.”

“You’re going to have to hear it from me, too,” he said, matching her stride. “What you did today was totally unnecessary. You’re not trained as a guard, and Julilla was already assigned to go with May. I don’t know why you thought you had to be a hero, but–”

“I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I’ve been to May’s lots of times, and it was never dangerous before.”

“You also knew there had been trouble twice this week. You put yourself at risk.”

“So what? Everything we do is dangerous since the Telo.” They were at her door now, and she leaned against it, too tired to stop the words of hurt and anger that had been welling up inside for so long. “Eating is dangerous. Getting a cut, walking down a flight of stairs . . . hell, just waking up in the morning is dangerous. It doesn’t matter what we do because it all comes to nothing, just like the potato garden. It’s pointless. All of it.”

Galahad took a step closer, blocking her escape. “Nothing’s pointless. I know you don’t really want to give up. Not over a bad day.” Softly he added, “Maybe you’re right and a lot of things don’t matter. But you matter.”

He was so close he was almost touching her. She felt the heat of his body and smelled the salt of his skin, and it awakened a primal instinct to press her body against his and see where that would lead. She felt him lean toward her and held her breath, hoping he would kiss her, but to her disappointment, he only opened the door.

“Get some rest. And please don’t go anywhere for a few days. Things are crazy out there right now and . . . just look out for yourself, okay?”

She was wondering what to say when he bent over her again and this time brushed his lips against hers. With a whispered good night, he started down the hall. Cassie stared after him, still feeling his kiss on her lips as she tried to collect her thoughts. When he went into the stairwell instead of his own room, she ran after him. But when she heard his footsteps going up, not down, she paused in confusion. There was nothing upstairs but guest rooms. What was he going up there for?

Oddly, this new mystery was more disheartening than all the others. It was too much for one day. She wasn’t ready to deal with yet another secret. Blinking back inexplicable tears, Cassie went to her room, hoping she would be able to sleep and that she would have no dreams.

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

I don’t know what’s going on, but it seems like a lot is happening below the surface of things. Some of the signs are probably nothing, like the missing potatoes. But May’s attackers and the mystery about the Pharms and Obits has everyone freaked out. How the knife-throwing girl in black fits into it is another mystery.

On top of it all, Galahad is acting weird, sneaking around the upper floors. And I haven’t seen Leila all day.

I wish my parents were here. Or anyone who could tell me it’s all okay and that there’s something I can do to make my life make sense. But it seems like even the smallest things I do come to nothing. I have no idea how a grownup would handle this, but it seems like they had answers for things, even though they weren’t always good ones. I don’t have any answers at all, and it sucks.

Chapter Nine

Cassie carried her cup of lukewarm coffee into Doc’s clinic. She didn’t like unsweetened coffee at any temperature, but it was so remarkable that there was any at all that she was forcing herself to drink it. After a restless night like she had, the caffeine was welcome.

She found Doc bent over little Bethany’s foot, murmuring encouraging words. But when Cassie drew closer and looked over his shoulder, she immediately wished she hadn’t. The wound was oozing pus, turning green and black around the edges. The smell was enough to make her breakfast of cornmeal mush rise in her throat. She stepped back and forced herself to drink some coffee.

“Sorry,” Doc said. “I guess I should’ve warned you.” Bethany squirmed, and he patted her knee. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it better. But you have to be brave. And no more chasing after the older children. This is what happens when you can’t keep up.”

“We must be out of antibiotics,” Cassie said.

Doc got to his feet. “I have some from an earlier trade, but they don’t seem to be helping. Not all antibiotics are good for the same things, and I can’t tell if this just isn’t the right kind or if it’s no good at all. The Pharms sometimes pass off fakes and expired drugs as the real deal.” He went to a cart and selected a roll of bandages made from strips of hotel sheets. “What I’d really like is to get my hands on some sulfa. A lot of these kids have been so pumped up with traditional antibiotics all their lives that things like ampicillin and erythromycin don’t do much good. And we can’t afford the Pharms’ price for Cipro-class drugs.”

Cassie only partially followed this line of discussion and frowned over the last of her coffee. “I wonder if May–”

“Not without a major lab upgrade and some decent supplies.” He went back to Bethany and began wrapping her foot. “At the rate we’re going, we may have to go with Kayleen’s suggestion after all.”

While Bethany looked at him with curious eyes, not knowing what he meant, Cassie considered. “There’s got to be some other way. How about we try sunlight? We could take her to the garden and let the wound get some fresh air and light.”

“Gotta keep stuff out of it,” Doc said.

“But since it’s already infected. . .”

They discussed the matter and finally agreed that sunning the injury wouldn’t make things worse. Since Bethany was so small, Doc had no trouble carrying her to the third floor. Cassie tried to make her comfortable on a chaise lounge in a sunny spot among the rose bushes while Doc went back downstairs, returning a little later with a cup of rose hip tea laced with willow. Following him was the teacher, Alaina.

“Drink it all,” Doc told Bethany, holding the tea to her lips.

The girl scowled at the sour taste, but when Alaina sat beside her and nodded, Bethany did as she was told. Alaina had brought a book and read aloud while Bethany was having her medicine. After the girl had drained her cup, Alaina asked to see the injury.

Doc unwound the already stained wrapping, positioning her foot so it would get maximum exposure to the sun. Cassie expected fashionable Alaina to be repulsed, but she examined the oozing wound with a thoughtful expression, then said, “Sugar.”

“What?”

“Sugar. It’s what they used on soldiers in the Civil War when drugs got scarce.”

“I’m sure they would’ve used snake oil, too,” Doc said, folding the bandage and putting it under Bethany’s foot like a pillow. “It’s not like they had penicillin. They didn’t even believe in germs.”

Alaina sighed in exasperation. “I’m telling you, when the doctors ran out of stuff to put on wounds, some of them tried sugar. And the ones who got the sugar treatment got better. My dad taught history at the university. I know this kind of stuff.”

“And where are we going to get sugar? I couldn’t even get honey for Bethany’s tea.”

“Caramel is sugar, isn’t it?” Cassie asked. When the others looked at her, she added, “There were some people selling some in the street yesterday. That’s all caramel is, right? Burnt sugar?”

“I think so,” Alaina said. “I was never much for cooking.”

“What did they want in trade?” Doc asked. “And do you know if they’ll be there today?”

Cassie shrugged. “Maybe Julilla noticed something I didn’t.”

“It’s worth a try, I guess,” Doc said.

“Hell yes, it is.” Alaina handed the book to Cassie. “You going to be here awhile? Read this to her again. I’m going to find Julilla.”

Alaina strode into the building and Doc ran after her, leaving Cassie in charge of Bethany, hoping all the crazy talk going into the streets for sugar wouldn’t lead to another day of trouble.

* * *

Cassie spent the next hour reading to Bethany and puttering in what was left of her garden. Finally, Doc returned and announced it was time to wrap Bethany’s foot and take her back to the clinic.

“Did Alaina find Julilla and ask about the caramel?”

“Yeah. Turned into a major parley, with those two plus Alex and David. I think Julilla is going to go with the forage team this afternoon to where you saw the caramel vendors and see what their game is.” He finished wrapping Bethany’s foot, then held out his arms for her to grab onto him so he could pick her up.

“Was Galahad at the meeting?” Cassie asked, hating herself for sounding so obvious.

Doc was walking toward the door and didn’t bother looking to see if Cassie was keeping up. “I don’t think so. They couldn’t find him this morning.”

Seeing that Doc couldn’t manage the door with the child in his arms, she opened it for him, following him inside and forcing herself not to steal a glance down the hall in the direction of Galahad’s room. “I guess he had other chores.”

Doc looked at her over the top of Bethany’s head. “I guess.”

Cassie felt her cheeks grow warm and looked away. She helped Doc get Bethany down the stairs and settled into the clinic, then excused herself. “I haven’t seen Leila since yesterday, and since you say David is around. . .”

“She’s not with David.”

Cassie looked at him curiously.

“Alaina and I saw her about half an hour ago in the breakfast room. Paul had her cornered and was reading to her from the Bible.”

“Oh, God.” Cassie gave a small sigh. “But if she’s been doing even half the things I suspect, she probably needs it.”

“Well, tell her to pay close attention. I hear she’s been staying out late at night, and I don’t need another Nisha, if you catch my meaning.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He turned back to his small patient with a sigh. “I knew being a doctor would be hard work, but I never thought it would be like this.”

* * *

Cassie found Leila in the lounge, sitting at a banquette and looking bored while Paul leaned toward her, reading earnestly from a leather-bound Bible. When she saw Cassie, Leila straightened up and waved.

Cassie hurried over as Paul placed the ribbon marker and shut the book. “Too nice a morning to be indoors,” she told him. “You should’ve come out to the garden. Just because the potatoes got stolen doesn’t mean we don’t still have carrots to weed and soil to build.”

“We were discussing God’s plan for us,” Paul said.

“I’m sure God wants us to care for the growing things of his world instead of just talking,” Cassie pointed out. “Tending a garden is God’s work.”

“Well, I’m not interested in God’s work or anyone else’s,” Leila said. “Seems like we’re always having to work for someone.”

“Well,” Cassie said weakly, “that’s just life, isn’t it?”

“Render unto Caesar–” Paul began, but Leila silenced him.

“Haven’t we had enough Bible for one morning? It’s almost lunchtime and we still haven’t finished picking up the trash. And I have to sweep the lobby, too.”

“I told you I’d help,” Paul said.

“But first she has to come help me with something,” Cassie told him. At his questioning look, she thought fast and said, “Girl stuff.”

Paul turned red and reached for his book. “Of course.” He scrambled to his feet.

Just before he could flee, Cassie asked, “Have you seen Galahad?” She searched her mind for an excuse. “Doc was wondering where he was.”

Paul clutched the Bible to his chest. “He was out late last night and up early this morning, saying he had an important errand to run.” He shook his head sadly. “I try to read the Good Book to him, but I don’t know how much it helps.”

As he walked away, Cassie tried to stifle the rising sense that Galahad was up to things she might not want to know about. He didn’t have a girlfriend, did he? Maybe more than one? Or was he involved in some other sort of secret dealings, perhaps with the Pharms, or worse?

“Thanks for getting rid of him,” Leila said. “If it’d been anyone but Galahad’s cousin, I’d have told him to stuff that pious religious garbage a long time ago. But Galahad is David’s friend, and–”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. You sure have been hanging around David a lot, staying out late, acting like . . . well, you know.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. Ask him. He says it to me all the time.”

“Okay. But is he something else?”

Their eyes met, and Leila looked away with a shrug and clatter of her long earrings. “I’m a grown woman. As grown as any of us can be before the Telo gets us and we die.”

“But Leila, is that smart? David used to be a Kevork.”

“Lots of people used to be Kevorks.” Leila fixed her with a defiant gaze. “Even your precious Galahad.”

Cassie grabbed the table’s edge and sat down. “That’s impossible.”

“If you say so.”

“Who told you that?”

“David. How do you think they met?”

Deep breaths. Kevorks were killers. She didn’t need this.

Leila touched Cassie’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She frowned for a moment, considering. “Okay, I did mean to make you a little mad, but you really like him, don’t you?”

Cassie drew her hand away and didn’t answer.

“Well,” Leila said, “Galahad has changed his ways. That’s why they call him that. David said he used to be called . . . well, something else. But when he turned all goody on them, joining the Regents, David gave him the name Galahad. The pure knight from King Arthur, you know.”

“Yeah,” Cassie said weakly. “He’s so pure that Paul needs to read the Bible to him and no one knows where he disappears to at night.”

“I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Leila said. Seeing that Cassie wasn’t reassured, she added, “Let’s forget I said anything, okay? You wanted to lecture me about my evil ways.”

Cassie gave a little half smile. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, come on. If it’ll make you happy again, it’s all right. I know I’m being bad.”

“It’s not about what’s good or bad. It’s about what’s going to help us survive.”

“But what are we surviving for? The Telo will get us anyway, so why not enjoy whatever time we’ve got left?”

“Our parents taught us that’s not the right attitude.”

“And look what it got them.”

“Galahad says it, too.”

Leila grinned. “You do like him!”

“But not if–”

“Don’t be that way.” Leila stood up and tugged on her sleeve. “Come on. It’s almost lunchtime, and I’ve heard it’ll be something good.”

“When did you become an optimist?” Cassie asked, getting to her feet and following her down the hall.

“When David told me what they foraged yesterday. Wait ‘til you see!”

* * *

To Cassie’s surprise, lunch was macaroni and cheese. The noodles were overcooked and sticky, but no one cared. Although Eleven allowed no seconds, his refusal came with a smile. “There’s enough we can all have some for dinner if we’re careful, so mind your portions.”

Cassie had been assigned to lunch cleanup but tried to find Leila afterwards to see if she could help her with chores. Unable to locate her, she rounded up a few children who were disrupting Alaina’s reading lesson and took them to the garden to help weed carrots and water roses. The pleasant lunch and simple task of working in the soil quieted her earlier concerns for awhile, but as the children grew bored and drifted away, the doubts crept back.

Galahad a Kevork? It was ridiculous. The KDS had started with good intentions. Telo was a nasty way to die, bleeding from the eyes and nose while slowly choking to death on one’s putrefying lungs. There weren’t enough drugs and doctors to make medical euthanasia available to all, so many people made their children promise to kill them. The teens of the Kevorkian Death Squad came together to trade duties so that no one would have to kill someone they knew. But as the bodies piled up, they began drinking and doing drugs to mask their trauma. Soon they were taking out their anger on police, government officials, doctors and pharmacists. New members joined the KDS, troublemakers looking for an excuse to kill, rape and rob. Before long, the Kevorks were a menace, killing wantonly, even killing their own, until they fell apart from the force of their own violence.

Galahad was too nice to have been one of them. There was no way it could be true. Nevertheless, when he came out onto the deck in late afternoon, Cassie refused to go to him and instead waited for him to come to her. When he was finally standing over her, she said, “People were looking for you today.”

“I had something important to do.”

Cassie looked away, feigning lack of interest.

“I have something for you.” When she gave him a questioning look, he added, “It’s downstairs. I’ll need a little help with it.” Gingerly, he tugged his left sleeve over his elbow, revealing a bandage spotted with blood. “I got into a little ownership dispute over it, but Doc fixed me up. Still, I don’t want to risk breaking open the stitches, and your present is pretty heavy. Think you can help? I can’t find David or Paul.”

“They’re probably fighting over Leila,” Cassie said. “And I don’t want you stealing things for me. It’s not right.”

“Well, it’s not strictly for you,” he clarified. “I mean, I got it because of you, but — just come with me, okay?”

Skeptically, Cassie followed Galahad to the first floor, down a dim hallway and into the loading bay where they kept the van. He opened the back and jumped inside. From where she stood, she could hear something being dragged across the floor and see the van swaying. Then Galahad jumped to the ground and pulled something to the edge of the doorway. He turned to her with a grin. “Check it out.”

Cassie stepped forward and looked. “Potatoes?”

“And they’re at least as good as the other ones, maybe better.”

“I hope it’s not too late in the season.”

“Don’t say that. Not after I risked my life for these things.”

Cassie smiled. Kevork or not, Galahad came through in a pinch. “I’ll have Alaina bring her students to help with the planting,” she said. “You’re right. These will grow.”

“And I ran into Alex when I was on my way to see Doc, and he said he’ll give us a guard this time. So no worries about these getting stolen.”

“Great,” Cassie said. “To think we’ve come to a point where we need an armed guard to watch over potato plants.”

“Not very civilized,” Galahad agreed. “But neither is starving. So where should we put these? We can’t leave them here, and I don’t want to put them anyplace where they could get stolen.”

Putting them under guard in the storeroom was the obvious choice, but Cassie worried that they might accidentally end up in a soup pot, so after some additional debate, they decided on Cassie’s room.

Getting the heavy sack up to the third floor was no easy task, but once they reached the hall, they could drag it the rest of the way. But when Galahad made to follow her into her room, Cassie hesitated, remembering some of the worst rumors about Kevorks and what they did to girls. Common sense told her she was being silly, but fear had been part of her daily life for so long that it was hard to resist the impulse toward caution.

“Did you forget to make your bed or something?”

“It’s just I don’t need any more help,” she said. “Thanks.”

“I want to help. Save your strength for getting these to the garden tomorrow, in case I’m not around.”

Reluctantly, she let him help bring the heavy bag inside, glad she had emptied the toilet bucket that morning so the room wouldn’t stink. They stood for a moment looking around, Cassie wondering where to put the potatoes, Galahad taking in the colorful scarves and necklaces decorating Leila’s side of the room.

“How come no pictures?” he asked.

“What?” She had been wondering where she would put the chair if she stored the potatoes under the desk.

“That’s your side, right? The one with nothing on the walls? Because the other side is definitely Leila’s style.”

“So?”

“So how come you didn’t decorate? I thought it was something everyone did.”

“I haven’t got anything I want to put up.” At his questioning look, Cassie added, “At home, I had framed posters of endangered species and things like that. But it seemed silly to bring anything with me that wouldn’t be useful, and I haven’t found anything else I want hanging over my bed.”

Galahad didn’t say anything to this and helped her stash the potatoes in a niche near the closet. By now the children were running up and down the hall announcing dinner, so Cassie and Galahad went downstairs.

Doc saw her before she saw him. “We got the sugar,” he said. “Julilla got it for us.”

Cassie scanned the room. From the guards’ table, Julilla gave a little nod of acknowledgement.

“I made a poultice, and we’ll see if it helps. If it does any good, Julilla says she’ll recommend a mission to lay in a proper supply, but for now, we’re going to do a trial run with Bethany as our test subject. I’ve set up a chart, a schedule and everything. It’s important to do this sort of thing scientifically.”

“Of course,” Cassie said.

“So what’s this about sugar?” Galahad asked.

Doc explained as they found a place to sit, and he was still discussing the nuances of wound care when dinner was brought out. To everyone’s delight, it was macaroni and cheese again, this time with a bit of meat mixed in and some canned spinach on the side. Cassie was skeptical about the meat and thought the spinach tasted like the inside of a can, but was too excited to have noodles and cheese again to complain.

“I thought they were going to save this stuff for a holiday,” Galahad said.

“You mean it’s a one-time thing?” Cassie asked.

“Until we find more. Might be tomorrow, might be never. You know what it’s like out there.”

Cassie nodded, remembering all the ransacked houses.

“Well, it’s the nutritionally correct thing to give us the best they’ve got when they’ve got it,” Doc said, then went on to expound on the merits of calcium, iron and B vitamins.

Even with Doc’s tedious conversation, it would’ve been a pleasant supper except for the rumors that were circulating. There had been more child kidnappings, and it was becoming clear that the Pharms were getting in on the act. Even more unsettling, some kids were saying that a few of the Obits looked like grownups.

“That’s impossible,” Doc said. “Telo is a virally transmitted genetic disease that lies dormant until the telomeres shorten–”

“We know,” Galahad reminded him. “But what if–”

“Unlikely.”

They were still arguing over the matter when supper ended and the next day’s assignments were announced. Then while Galahad went to talk to David, Cassie followed Doc to the ward where Bethany lay on a mattress, hugging a stuffed dog to her chest and humming to the songs from an mp3 player. Sasha, the night nurse, was quick to apologize. “She’s still on her fifteen-minute battery allotment.”

Doc was unconcerned. “A kid who might lose her foot before her fourth birthday should be able to listen to more than fifteen minutes of music every four hours.”

Proudly, he showed Cassie his chart and list of abbreviations for common terms. Then he unwound the bandage on the girl’s foot and shone a light on it.

Cassie thought it looked worse, not just greenish with pus and blackening at the edges, but now wet and glistening with a shiny yellow crust in the center. “Well, at least it smells better,” she offered.

Doc bent his face to Bethany’s foot and took a hard sniff. He wrinkled his nose and made a note on his chart. “Maybe a little. It’s a good sign if it does, though.”

“So if this works, do you think it will be easier to get sugar than antibiotics on a regular basis?”

“If we can find some bees, we can use honey for free,” he offered. “But no, I have no idea. Julilla wouldn’t say how she traded for the three caramels she brought me, but I suspect she did some sort of triangulation with May — jewelry or aspirin in exchange for the candy, or something like that.”

“Risky,” Cassie said. “May is supposed to only give meds to the Pharms. It’s the deal.”

“Well, their deal is also supposed to include protecting her, and look what’s been happening.”

They talked for a little longer about sugar treatments, then Cassie read Bethany a Dr Seuss story. She was about to wish Doc a good night when Galahad came into the clinic. He looked at her, but his words were for Doc.

“Just thought maybe you should check my arm one last time before I go to bed.”

Doc looked from him to Cassie. “I told you this afternoon you didn’t need to check back until morning.”

“I’m worried I might’ve broken open one of the stitches, so I thought–”

“Sure.” Doc led Galahad to one of his bright lights and turned it on. “Want to see?” he asked Cassie.

Cassie watched him unwind the stained bandage and sucked in her breath at the long row of stitches, the gash red and puckered, bruised purple around the edges. “No wonder you needed help with the potatoes,” she said.

“He’s lucky he didn’t bleed to death,” Doc said, reaching for a fresh roll of bandages.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Galahad said. He gave Cassie a smile. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Doc started wrapping Galahad’s arm. “Right. It’s worse. You may end up being test subject number two on the sugar treatment.”

“I always did like sweets.”

“Just be careful,” Doc said in annoyance. “I’d prefer you didn’t go foraging for a few days. But I guess that’s not possible.”

“It’s possible, but not likely.”

Doc finished tying the new bandage into place, and Cassie thought she heard him mutter, “Showoff.”

Galahad thanked him, then offered to walk Cassie to her room. She gave a little nod and waited until they were in the hallway to speak. “You didn’t need to go making up excuses to hunt me down like that,” she said. “You’re wasting bandages and Doc’s time.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Yes.” She tried to hurry ahead, but he kept pace.

“I wanted to talk to you before you went to bed.”

“We’ve been talking on and off since this afternoon.”

“And you’ve spent most of that time acting like you’re mad at me. Have I done something wrong?”

Cassie paused. He stopped, too, and looked at her, his eyes kind and slightly hurt. What on earth was she supposed to say? That she had heard he was a cold-blooded killer? That seeing how casually he treated a serious injury made her even more suspicious? The gash and all those stitches had to hurt, but he acted like it was nothing. He must be dealing with the Pharms on the side. “It’s the way you act,” she said. “You’re nice one minute, then you’re sneaking off the next, not telling anyone where you’re going or what you’re up to. And then there’s those rumors–”

His face grew still. “What rumors?” When Cassie didn’t answer, he took her arm in his good hand. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk, okay?”

Cassie pulled away. “No. I’m tired.”

“You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then tell me what you’ve heard. And I’ll tell you whether it’s true or not.”

Cassie let him lead her to the garden where they settled themselves in a quiet spot among the rose bushes on the chaise lounge that Bethany had lain on earlier in the day.

Galahad tried to take her hand, but she wouldn’t let him. “So tell me what they’re saying.”

“Not they. Just Leila. David told her. . .” She paused, unsure whether to say the words. Here in the stillness of the garden, it was just too silly to think he could’ve been. . .

“Told her what?” he said, this time with an edge in his voice.

“That you were a Kevork.”

“And?”

“You killed people.”

Galahad hesitated before answering. “Is that what David said?”

“He didn’t have to. Everyone knows that’s what the KDS was about.”

“So he wasn’t specific.”

“Should he have been?”

He took her hand again and this time didn’t let her pull away. “I can’t excuse my past because there is no excuse. But that wasn’t who I wanted to be.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“It started with me being stupid enough to take my parents to the hospital.”

Over the next half hour, Galahad told her his story, starting with how his parents died in the overcrowded wards and how he struggled to find someone to release them to him for burial. “I didn’t want them thrown into the pits,” he said. “But it was a madhouse, and no one would release them to me. I met David outside the morgue. He was just some kid I had sometimes seen in the halls at school. We didn’t really know each other, but he was having the same problem, and we teamed up because we were mad as hell.”

In their anger and frustration, they walked the streets, plotting what, if anything, could be done. When they came upon a pub being ransacked by a group of teenagers, they joined in. “It was a way to take the edge off,” he explained. “It makes no sense when I look back at it now. Fighting and drinking weren’t how we coped in my family. But at the time. . .”

Cassie edged closer. “I think we all had those moments when totally crazy stuff made perfect sense.”

“You can’t think straight when everything around you is falling apart,” Galahad went on. “It’s no excuse for what we did next, but those kids tearing the pub apart were Kevorks, and they said if we’d help them, they’d help us get our parents’ bodies so we could have a proper funeral.”

“Did they?”

Galahad looked away. “We killed a few people at the morgue, but it did no good. We never found my parents or David’s. It was too late.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“So we drank some more so we wouldn’t have to feel anything and kept on with the Kevorks. What was there to go home to? Whatever we needed, we took. Whoever tried to stop us, we stopped them.” He shook his head at the memory. “I spent most of those weeks drunk or under the influence of other things. There weren’t many Pharms yet, and we got all kinds of pills from the pharmacies we raided. I don’t even know half of what I took. Blue pills, yellow pills, white ones . . . made no difference. The only thing that mattered was that I didn’t have to feel anything.”

“Who wouldn’t want the pain to go away?”

“There were better ways to do it. I took the easy way out.”

“But not forever,” Cassie said. “You stopped.”

“Yes.” He frowned in the darkness. “But not until after a lot of things happened. Things I don’t even remember.”

“So why did you quit?”

“Paul.” At her start of surprise, he looked up. “I came out of a blackout one day, and there he was. He says he found me wandering alone on a bridge, acting like I was going to jump. He brought me here to the hotel. I was sick coming off the drugs and alcohol, but Doc helped and Paul sat with me the whole time, reminding me who I had been and who I was capable of being again.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t just read the Bible to you.”

“He did that, too. But he mostly just talked. He saved my life, which is why even though he’s gotten a little crazy on this Jesus thing, I still stick by him.”

In the silence that followed, the moon came out from behind a patch of cloud and the wind rustled the branches of the rose bushes. Somewhere far below, kids on the street shouted at each other.

“Is that all?” Cassie said.

“Isn’t that enough?”

He drew her toward him with his good arm, and this time, Cassie snuggled into his lap, leaning against his chest where she could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart. As he closed his arms around her, she wondered why she had resisted this before and wished it could be like this forever — just the two of them, safe in a peaceful place, free of worries about dirt, disease, armed killers and where to find their next meal.

“Do you forgive me?” he asked.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” she said, pressing herself against him and wishing there were some way to crawl inside his skin so they could be together like this always. “We don’t have to apologize for being human.”

Galahad pushed her away. But it was only so he could see her face in the moonlight and find her lips with his.

* * *

When they went back inside, it was with a sense that something momentous had happened, even though their kisses had been cut short by Galahad pulling away with an apology and gesture of annoyance at his injured arm. “I’m sorry. It hurts, and it distracts me. You deserve to be kissed right.”

“You can kiss me any way you want.” Nevertheless, she let him walk her to her room. She had thrown her arms around his neck for a final kiss good night when a shadow at the end of the hall caught their attention. As one, they turned to see someone in black slip out of a room. The intruder was slim and androgynous, with hands and face painted gray and eyes ringed with black like a raccoon.

“Hey!” Galahad shouted.

The shadow turned to him, startled, then took off running. Cassie and Galahad tried to follow, but the shadow was faster, running to an open hall window and leaping out. By the time they got there and could investigate the knotted rope tied to a radiator post, the shadow had shimmied down the side of the building and two people in black were running down the street.

“Thing One and Thing Two,” Galahad said.

“What were they doing here?”

“No telling,” he said, “But it can’t be good.” He guided Cassie back to her door. He bent to kiss her, but this time, it was a distracted brush of his lips over hers. “Go to bed. I need to tell Alex about this.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. Let an injured guy feel useful, okay?”

Cassie went into her room, confused and frustrated that the earlier glow of their kisses in the garden had been ruined by the mysterious intruder. As she fumbled in the dark for her flashlight, a voice startled her, and she nearly leaped out of her skin.

“Can’t you be a little quiet?”

Cassie took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. “Well,” she told Leila, “how was I supposed to know you’d be spending the night in your own bed for once?”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

We had a security breach tonight. What a commotion! After Galahad told Alex and Mundo, the whole third floor became chaos with guards going room to room, asking questions and checking for signs of further trouble. Leila was pissed since she was trying to get some sleep for once, and there was Zach, stomping around our room, looking under and behind things as if we had been invaded by a tribe of gnomes that might still be hiding somewhere. Finally, Julilla came and dragged him away, apologizing for his behavior, which makes me think he was just looking for something to start a rumor about.

When the ruckus died down, it seemed that Doc’s room was the only one broken into, and the only thing missing was his father’s old e-planner. I’m not sure why Thing One and Thing Two would want it, since the batteries are dead and it held only sentimental value, but Doc was pretty upset. Some of us suggested maybe it hadn’t been stolen at all and was just lost. He agreed that this was possible, but I think he was lying just so everyone could go back to bed.

Before I went back to my room, I saw Julilla at the window that Thing Two (or Thing One — I can’t tell them apart) had jumped out of. She was examining the rope and some marks on the windowsill. Then she leaned out the window, feeling around the edges. She looked down at what could be seen of the street below, then stood there frowning. I could almost see the thoughts adding up in her mind. Then she ran down the hall and caught up to Alex, and I watched them turn the corner together.

As I was closing my door, I heard footsteps again. I looked out and it was Galahad, trying to move quietly and keeping his light covered. He went into the stairwell, and I chased after him, wanting to know where he had been during all the commotion and if he had learned anything more about what happened. But like the other night, once I got to the stairwell, I heard his footsteps going up to the unused floors. After the things he told me and the way he kissed me in the garden tonight, I was almost confident enough to call after him. But in the end, I didn’t. If he has any other secrets, I don’t think I want to know what they are because it might be too depressing.

Chapter Ten

For the next few weeks, Mundo kept the Regents busy setting up new security measures. Everyone who wasn’t ill or injured had to do guard training, and Julilla led Cassie and the other teenage girls in morning stair runs and weight lifting, followed later in the day with target practice if there was enough ammo to spare. The youngest children were taught to be alert to trouble and sound the alarm at any odd activity, and the halls thundered with the older boys’ daily training runs.

Sid was given the task of designing alarm systems, and he quickly warmed to the project, suggesting ways to make the walls unscalable and designing ever more complicated structures of bells and netting to alert the group to intruders.

But in spite of all the activity, no one felt safe, and the nighttime fears of the children made things worse. They whispered of people in black lurking in the shadows and slept fitfully, only to wake up shrieking or in tears, complaining of nightmares. It didn’t help that several notebooks went missing from the clinic, even though no one could have gotten into the room without someone’s knowledge. Even more mysteriously, the notebooks reappeared a week later in almost the exact spot from which they had been stolen. Lying nearby was the missing e-planner.

Doc examined the e-planner as if it might be possessed. “It’s definitely the one. But I’ve never had it out of my room, I swear.”

“No one came in through either the ward or the clinic door,” Rochelle said from where she was making tinctures under Cassie’s guidance. “We’ve been here all morning.”

“And you didn’t see or hear anything at all?”

Cassie shook her head. “It’s like they reappeared all by themselves.”

“That’s impossible.” Doc slipped the e-planner into his lab coat. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to Mundo. He’ll want me to say how it happened, and I have no idea.”

“Nisha wasn’t at breakfast this morning. Blood pressure was up again. Maybe he’ll be too distracted by her problems to care,” Cassie said.

Doc rubbed his forehead. “Don’t remind me about Nisha. I think I’d rather try to explain the e-planner fairies than deal with a preggo who’s having complications.” He glanced at Cassie over the tops of his glasses. “You sure you don’t want to take the lead on delivering her baby? I’ll give you all the books, and if you read fast, you’ll know as much as I do by her due date. I’ll even weed the potatoes to give you extra reading time.”

“No way. I’ve heard delivering babies is messy and it smells.”

“I’ll do it,” Rochelle said. “I love babies.”

Doc and Cassie both shook their heads. “It’s not about liking babies or not,” Cassie told her. “It’s about knowing how to handle a serious medical situation.”

“But I–”

“You will assist,” Doc finished for her. “And someday, I’m sure you’ll make a great midwife.”

Rochelle bowed her head back over her work. “Until I get Telo and die.”

Doc pretended not to hear. “Well, I guess I better tell Mundo what happened.”

“Want me to go with you?” Cassie offered.

“No. It’s going to be a weird enough conversation as it is. No need to turn it into a circus.”

As he reached for the door handle, Cassie said, “Are you going to ask again if you can go on the mission to the lab? I can cover for you if he says yes.”

Doc turned around. “Thanks, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. He says I’m not expendable.”

“A lot of the people on the mission aren’t expendable.”

“That’s what I said. Plus, I’m the only one who knows where my dad’s office is and what his stuff looks like. What if they’ve moved things around? Julilla will never find what we’re after.”

Cassie nodded in sympathy.

“It’s all about Nisha and her stupid baby. If it wasn’t for her, Mundo would be just as happy to take a literate three-year old, a copy of the Merck manual and a box of band-aids and call it medical support.”

“And you don’t even know about babies,” Rochelle piped up.

“Damn fucking right I don’t.” Doc stomped out the door, making sure to slam it as he left.

* * *

Because of the mission to infiltrate the lab, there was no training scheduled for that afternoon. With time on her hands, Cassie decided to check on her garden. She had turned much of the daily maintenance over to Alaina’s older students, but she missed the lazy afternoons of digging in the soil. With a polite nod to Truong, the guard, she gathered her tools and set to work.

She worked steadily for nearly an hour and was checking a potato plant for signs of insect infestation when someone said her name. She looked up to see Paul ambling toward her. He didn’t have his Bible, which was a good sign, but Leila had been increasingly rude and elusive with him while his own behavior became more erratic. Being alone with him was the last thing Cassie wanted, but it was too late now. She stood up, still holding the fork she had been using to loosen a patch of soil. “Pretty day,” she said.

“If we’re victorious against those sinners at the lab, it will be.”

Cassie suppressed a sigh. Was there nothing one could say any more that he wouldn’t turn into a talk about God? “I like to think every day God makes is a good one. God doesn’t make mistakes.”

“But people do. I want to talk to you about a rumor I heard.”

Cassie felt her stomach clench. “There’s lots of rumors around this place. Sometimes I think all anyone does is think up new things to say, most of them only half-true, when there’s any truth to them at all.”

Paul wasn’t fooled. “So is it true that Leila is involved with David?”

How could he not have noticed what had been in front of his eyes all this time? He must’ve been blinded by the light of his own righteousness. “We all spend a lot of time together. That doesn’t mean–”

“But does she spend whole nights with him? That’s what they’re saying. That she doesn’t go back to her room until morning.” When Cassie hesitated, he flailed his arms in disgust. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? She said she was only nice to him because she didn’t want to make a Kevork mad. She acted like maybe she would like to hang out with me, read the Bible, maybe go to church on Sundays.” He jerked his body in agitation. “She lied to me while playing the harlot with that–”

He took a step toward her, and Cassie backed away.

“You know David is the devil, right? He always wanted to kill people and destroy things. He’s the one who fed Jay drugs and liquor and made him do things, made him sin, too, until I had to save him. You know that, don’t you? That David is evil and tempts good, honest people into sin?”

Cassie took another step back, her eyes darting toward Truong, who was distracted by a pigeon building a nest in an eave. Dammit, why didn’t he look this way and rescue her? Nervously, she gripped the fork she had been digging with earlier, hoping she wouldn’t have to use it as a weapon. “I’m sure David doesn’t mean to be evil, and Leila can look out for herself.”

“No. She wanted to join him in sin, or else why–”

Now Truong saw. He hurried over, his hand on the gun at his hip. “What’s the matter, Jesus freak? God grows potatoes on his schedule, not yours.”

Paul wheeled on Truong, his face reddening. “Don’t blaspheme the name of God!”

“I don’t think he did,” Cassie offered.

Paul ignored her, focused now on Truong. “This is none of your business, Chinese infidel!”

“Vietnamese,” Truong said. “And I’m a Presbyterian.”

“All of you are sinners!” He made a sweep with his arm, causing Truong to draw his weapon in alarm. “Don’t think God doesn’t see into your heart of darkness! He sees the sparrow fall and–”

“And I’m going to see you fall right off this balcony if you don’t get out of here now,” Truong said. “If you’re that fucking worried about my sinful soul, go pray for me.”

“Better do it,” Cassie said. “You can pray for Leila while you’re at it.”

Paul looked at them both. “I won’t forget this. And don’t think God will forget it, either.”

After he stormed away, Truong put his gun back in the holster and gave Cassie a grin. “You should come around more often. This is the most excitement I’ve had since being put on potato patrol.”

* * *

Cassie’s instinct was to find Leila and warn her of Paul’s behavior. Not finding her, she paced the lobby, unsure what to do next. If Leila had gone to May’s or on some other errand, she was likely safe. As safe as she would be at the hotel with Paul in his current state, at least. But what really needed to happen was for Paul to see reason and calm down. On an inspiration, Cassie went to the clinic.

“I’m not a psychiatrist,” Doc said after she had explained what she was after. “You want a shrink, try taking him to the Thespians. Maybe some of that method acting will do him good. Live out his repressed fantasy selves or whatever.”

“You’re not being helpful.”

Doc took off his glasses and cleaned them with the tail of his lab coat. “I’m sorry.” He shoved the glasses on his nose, then gestured toward the medicine cabinet. “Look in there. If you see anything you think will help, go on and take it. Just be sure to sign the clipboard. Gotta keep things professional.”

Cassie scanned the contents of the cabinet with skepticism. She knew what was on these shelves better than she knew what was on the shelves of her own closet, mainly because she had made most of these herbal tinctures herself. But these were astringents and vitamins; she needed a sedative, something like Valium.

“I think there’s an old Seroquel sample in there,” Doc said. “Might be out of date, but it’s probably the best we can do without hunting down some Pharms.”

Cassie rummaged in a box of drug sample packets. “What is it?”

“Anti-psychotic, if I remember right. Check the PDR.”

Cassie went over to the table where Doc kept his medical books and flipped through the pages of the Physician’s Desk Reference. “Sounds powerful,” she said, after reading the entry. “And dangerous. I don’t know if–”

By now, Doc was peering down the throat of a boy who had wandered in complaining of an earache and scratchy throat. “Well, you’re the one who came in here saying the guy might be a threat. Seems like the risk to us all outweighs the risk to him of giving him a pill that’s probably expired and won’t help anyway.”

“Maybe we should just tie him up and gag him.”

“Cheaper than cutting a deal with the Pharms, that’s for sure.”

It crossed Cassie’s mind to ask why he was so cynical today, but he was just anxious about the mission, angry that he hadn’t been able to go. He probably wished he could have a sedative himself so he wouldn’t jump every time he thought he heard the van pull up outside. Cassie pocketed the Seroquel. “Thanks.”

* * *

Now she needed for Paul to take the drug. That would be tricky and would almost certainly require Galahad’s help. Glumly, Cassie sat on an ottoman in the lobby. Galahad and David had gone foraging with the Thespians, since they had been forced to give Alex the use of their shuttle for the lab infiltration. There was never any telling how long a forage might take, but being teamed with the Thespians meant it could turn into any kind of crazy affair. Thespians were unpredictable, known for egging each other on to acquire their goods in the most dramatic and story-worthy way possible. A simple tossing of goods out an office window might turn into an elaborate scheme involving uniforms, secret codes and window-washing machines. Such antics must then be re-enacted at the theater, preferably with vodka or tequila to add a little glory to the bad theatrics.

Cassie would be lucky if Galahad was back by suppertime. She needed to see him, and it wasn’t just because of Paul. He had kissed her last night in the garden, and the memory of his tongue probing her mouth and the heat of his hands on her skin made her dizzy. He had wanted her — she had felt it when he ground his hips into hers, but in the end, it had been his caution, not hers, that kept her from taking off her clothes right there and giving herself to him. Instead, when he took her to her room, he kissed her chastely at the door with a look that was oddly sad. The memory of last night and the promise of what must surely come next made Cassie weak in the knees, by turns anxious and giddy.

She stood and looked around for something to do. She couldn’t sit here like a fool all afternoon. At least if Galahad wasn’t back, that meant David wasn’t, either, and maybe that would be enough to keep Paul, wherever he was, from getting weird again. In fact, maybe by the time the foragers returned, Paul would be back to normal and her worries would be for nothing.

She was about to look for Sid to see if he wanted help making trip wires when the roar of an engine in the breezeway made her look up in a rush of Pavlovian excitement. But it was their own van she heard, and it wasn’t the foragers but Alex’s team returning from their mission.

Others heard the van and filed out to the breezeway. Cassie pushed her way through the crowd as Julilla stepped down from the shuttle, composed as always and deep in thought. By comparison, Alex and the others appeared dejected. Alex refused to answer questions, waving off eager voices with a wave of his hand. “I need to give my report first,” he said. “We’re back safe, and that’s all you need to know. Mundo will make any relevant announcements after dinner.”

As the crowd parted to let him pass, Cassie caught Julilla’s eye. To her questioning look, Julilla shook her head, then hurried to catch up with Alex. Cassie looked around, wondering if anyone else had caught the look. From the way they were gathering around the van, trying to peer inside, she suspected not. But to Cassie, Julilla’s look had been all too clear. They had found nothing.

* * *

The foragers returned just before supper, and Cassie ran to greet them, not caring that Galahad looked ridiculous pushing the cart the Thespians had loaned them. When they rolled the inconvenient contraption to a stop, he stood up straight and pushed a stray lock of hair out of his face, leaving a dirt mark on his forehead that to Cassie’s besotted eyes only made him more attractive. But when she went to his side, he dropped his gaze and pretended great interest in the contents of the cart.

“How’d it go?” Cassie asked.

Galahad handed her a box of coffee creamer. “Good.”

She waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, she pressed for details. “Looks like you hit the office towers today.”

“We did.” He hoisted a case of pretzel packets onto his shoulder and motioned with his head that they should go inside.

Cassie tried to conceal her bewilderment and a sudden urge to cry. Galahad was often distant the day after a particularly cozy evening, but she had hoped today would be different. In the storeroom, she touched his hand and searched his face for clues, but he pulled away and said there was more to be brought in from the cart.

They took several loads of goods to the storeroom before Galahad managed to slip away without her noticing, saying something about going back to the cart while she was busy with a box of paper napkins. When she went looking for him afterwards, he was nowhere to be found.

How could he treat her this way? Cassie resolved to sit with him at dinner, no matter what, and force the issue. If he had changed his mind about her, he’d have to speak up. No way was he getting off easy!

Getting a seat beside him in the dining room wasn’t hard. He even acted like he had expected her, adjusting her chair for her and helping her reach the bowl of overcooked rice. And then he ignored her. He didn’t do it in an obvious way — there were so many rumors going around about the lab mission that it was only Cassie who could tell he was being cool to her. What hurt was the lack of response when she touched his foot with hers under the table and the way he gave perfunctory acknowledgments of her words while asking questions of the others at the table and engaging in lengthy speculation about the Pharms, the lab and the computer that everyone had by now guessed hadn’t been found.

David and Leila sat with them, acting uninterested in each other and not fooling anyone. Cassie looked around the dining room, wondering where Paul was, glad he still hadn’t returned from wherever he had disappeared to. She would need to warn Galahad. It was just a matter of convincing him to quit being so cold and listen.

But first they must suffer through the evening announcements.

When they finished eating, Mundo stood to give the news of the day, handing the floor to Alex to explain what had happened on the lab mission. With the studied reserve of a soldier, Alex got to his feet and looked out over the room. “As you know,” he said, “I took a team to the Three Rivers Allied Health Labs today. Our plan was to infiltrate the Corcoran Building and retrieve items related to the research of Doc’s father, Dr. Jonathon Winston Brody.”

By now, the fidgets and whispers of the group had quieted, and Alex had everyone’s full attention.

“Entry was at fourteen-hundred hours and went for the most part as planned. We successfully gained access to Brody’s office and work areas.” Alex straightened and his eyes narrowed, daring anyone to challenge his next words. “The area had been ransacked. We found no files or equipment that matched the description given us.” He darted a glance at Doc. “We searched other areas as time permitted, but found nothing of interest. Then, so as to avoid encountering any Pharms and risking future trade and opportunities for a second infiltration, we called off the search at sixteen-hundred hours and returned to base. There were no casualties.” He turned to Mundo, gave a salute and returned to his seat.

The room erupted in whispers.

Mundo stood up and made a motion for silence. “Alex and I will continue to discuss this matter, and I’ll be forming a committee to consider next steps. For the time being, I expect everyone to resume normal duties and refrain from spreading gossip.” He waved off a few questions and went on to give other announcements, turning the floor over to an assistant to read off the next day’s assignments.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Galahad said to no one in particular. “Doc must be pretty unhappy.”

David stretched his arms overhead. “I’m just glad we’ve got the shuttle back so we can forage. There’s nothing on some old lab computer that’s going to save us from the Telo.”

“That wasn’t the point,” Cassie said. “We were trying to find out if there was a reason to think human growth hormone had something to do with Telo or why there are kids who believe it does.”

“Same reason there’s still people who believe in some distant sky fairy who hands out rewards and punishments based on who follows the Bible best.”

“Better not let Paul hear you say that,” Leila said. “He’s been on a total Jesus rant lately.”

Seeing an opportunity, Cassie leaned in close to Galahad and spoke softly in his ear. “Speaking of Paul, we need to talk.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why? Where is he, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Come on. I want to talk to you alone.”

With a show of annoyance and an apology to their friends at the table, Galahad followed her out of the dining room, into a nook near the concierge desk. “Okay. What’s so important about Paul you can’t tell me in front of everyone?”

Cassie sighed. Why was he being this way? Had he met a pretty girl among the Thespians today? “Are you mad at me or something?”

“Why would you think that? You said you had something to tell me about Paul, so go on and quit being weird.”

Resisting the temptation to argue over who was “being weird,” she told him what happened in the garden earlier in the day. “Something’s not right in his head,” she said. “I don’t mean like forever-crazy, but he’s in a bad spot, and I’m worried he might do something.”

Galahad gave a shrug. “Like what? Like off himself because your friend’s not into him? Not likely.”

How could she explain? It was more of a feeling she had, a sense that there was something dangerous underneath Paul’s crazy behavior. “Something’s really not right.” She fumbled in her pocket. “Doc gave me this.” She held out the sedative sample to him. “It’ll maybe calm him down so we can talk to him and find out how we can help.”

Galahad refused to take the offered pill. “I don’t need to give him a drug to talk to him. He’s my cousin and my friend.” He gave her a cold look. “Thanks for your concern, but let me deal with this.”

“Fine. But –” She searched his face earnestly. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Why do you keep saying I’m mad?”

“Because you act like it.” Cassie waved a hand in exasperation. “You acted last night like you liked me, and now today, it’s like I’m some random stranger who’s getting on your nerves.”

“Well, you are getting on my nerves, trying to tell me my cousin, the guy who saved my life, is crazy.”

“You were acting like this before I said a word about Paul. From the time you came back from foraging.”

Galahad shrugged and ran a hand through is hair. “It’s been a long day, and I’ve had a lot on my mind.” He reached for her hand. “Be patient with me, okay?”

“I’m not a toy.”

“I know that.”

“If you want a girl just for . . . well, you know . . . there’s plenty out there.”

“I know that, too.” He drew her into his arms and rested his chin on her head. “I wouldn’t be hanging around if I thought you were that kind of girl. It’s just there’s things I need to sort out, okay? It’s got nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

Cassie leaned deeper into his arms. “How do you feel about me?” she asked, longing to hear the words.

He pulled her closer, not speaking for a long time. Finally, he said, “Let me take you back to your room. I need to find Paul.”

* * *

Leila was already in their room, or Cassie didn’t know how she would’ve coped. After Galahad left her at the door without so much as a perfunctory kiss, she threw herself on her bed in tears. After a moment, she felt the shift in the mattress as Leila sat beside her.

“What’s the matter?” When Cassie didn’t answer, she added, “Galahad’s being mean to you, isn’t he?”

Cassie cried harder, and Leila put a hand on her shoulder.

“They’re all that way, the ex-Kevorks. You have to be patient with him, like I am with David.”

“No,” Cassie said, choking and sniffling. “It’s not right for him to treat a person this way.”

“What way?”

“You know. Hot, cold. Love you, hate you.”

Leila nodded in sympathy and lay down beside her. “Just give him time. He really likes you. David says so.”

Cassie refused to be comforted. “Oh, what does he know?”

“He knows they all did some pretty bad things when they were with the KDS. David has nightmares even though he says he enjoyed doing all those things they did. So think what it must be like for Galahad, who never wanted to be that way at all.”

“That’s an excuse.” Cassie swiped at her runny nose and rolled over so she could see the outline of Leila’s features in the glow of their new lantern. “He just wants me when it’s convenient for him, and I can rot the rest of the time for all he cares.”

Leila put a hand on her arm. “I don’t think he’s that way. I mean, I don’t know him like you do, but from the things David says, I think he’s just a guy with a good heart who got caught up in some bad things and is confused about his feelings now.”

“And he takes it out on me. Like I need that shit.”

Leila stood up and found Cassie a clean tissue. “You’re right about that. With what we’ve all been through and knowing we’re going to die soon, you’d think people could be a little nicer to each other.”

Cassie blew her nose. “That’s what I don’t understand,” she said. “Galahad talks like he thinks we need to make this a good world again, but he acts like he can’t make up his mind if he really believes it or not. We don’t have time for games.”

Leila agreed. “If you like someone, you should chase hard. One or the other of you might be dead tomorrow.”

Cassie had been starting to feel a little better, but this thought depressed her more than all the others. She reached for the lantern. “Do you need this any more? I’m ready to get some sleep.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

No one is listening to me about Paul. Doc gave me an expired pill and brushed me off. Galahad acted like I was making unfair accusations just to piss him off. And when I remembered, just before turning out the light tonight, that I needed to warn Leila to stay away from him, she laughed. She said Paul was a nuisance, but no way was he any danger to anyone. ‘Too skinny and holy,’ she said. ‘He wouldn’t hurt a cat, even he thought it was possessed by the devil.’

Fine. So I’m the crazy one. When Paul gets back from wherever he disappeared to tonight, everyone will see what I’m talking about and know I’m right. At least I hope so.

In addition to keeping my distance from Paul, I’m going to stay away from Galahad. It’s too painful the way he makes me think he likes me and then ignores me. Haven’t we all been through enough pain without giving each other more? Besides, he won’t like me any better for being one of those girls who follows a boy around pestering him, letting him treat her any old way. I may not have a future, but I can at least have my pride.

But pride hurts. I love him so much! If I let myself remember how it felt when he touched me, I want to run down the hall to his room and–

Yeah, that would be dumb. I bet he’s not there, anyway. He’s probably on his mysterious upstairs errand again. I bet he’s got another girl hidden up there. Bastard.

Chapter Eleven

Someone was tapping on the door. It was a soft, persistent tapping that wove itself into Cassie’s jumbled dream of burning buildings, Kevorks and chocolate chip cookies. From the other bed, Leila muttered a curse and sat up. Pulling a sheet around herself, she padded to the door. Cassie sat up, still foggy-headed, but dimly aware of danger. She was about to call out to Leila to check who was knocking, but it was too late. Leila opened the door without looking out the peephole, then took a startled step back.

Julilla pushed her way into the room. “Good morning, ladies. Sorry to wake you up.”

Cassie frowned and tried to smooth her hair. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure. Well, sort of.” She came to stand at the foot of Cassie’s bed. “I know it’s short notice, but there isn’t much time. I think I know who’s got the laptop, and I was wondering if you could go with me to get it.”

“Go with you where?”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Just tell me if you think you can get away for the day.” Julilla’s eyes darted to Leila. “You can hoe potatoes and whatever else it is she does around here, right?” When Leila hesitated, she added, “Some trade goods may come out of this. If all goes well, you’ll be compensated.”

“But why me?” Cassie asked, starting to feel a little more clear in her head. “I’m not a trained guard.”

“But you’re good in a tight spot, like when those kids attacked us on the way back from May’s. And more important, you’ve got tact. Most of the guards are in it for the glory, you know? They’re full of testosterone and just want to kick somebody’s ass.” She fixed Cassie with a steady look. “This isn’t that kind of job. It’s not likely we’ll need to fight anyone. It’s going to be all about subtlety, and that’s why I was hoping you’d go with me.”

“Go ahead, if you want,” Leila offered. “I don’t mind covering your chores if maybe something good will come out of this.”

Cassie considered. It was an honor to be chosen for an important mission, and by Julilla, of all people, who had no patience for fools. But Galahad would be furious when he found out. Cassie thought back to his reaction on the day she accompanied May to her shop. If he thought she was taking risks then, he would think she was out of her mind now. But who was he to dictate what she did or didn’t do? Hadn’t she resolved not to center her life and hopes on him? “I’ll go. What’s the plan?”

Julilla’s eyes lit up with approval. “Wear something sturdy but comfortable. Something you can run or fight in, if you have to. Wear your Regents gauntlet, bring your pepper spray and meet me in the kitchen as soon as you can get down there. I’ll have some extra weapons for you, and Sandra will give us an early breakfast.”

Cassie wanted to ask more, but Julilla was already moving toward the door.

“Be quiet, and try not to let anyone see you,” Julilla added, just before she slipped into the hall. “Alex wants us to keep this mission off the books, in case it doesn’t work.”

* * *

To Cassie’s surprise, there was something approximating a real breakfast waiting for her in the kitchen.

“It’s our dirty secret,” Julilla said as they sipped real coffee and ate powdered eggs in a corner near the pantry. “Actually, it’s not that big a secret that a person needs calories in order to train and fight, but. . .” She looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

“Most of us suspected,” Cassie said. “We just didn’t know the details. That would be hard to deal with on a bad day.”

“That’s for sure. The little bit of extra we get is barely enough on a hard training day. I’d hate to try and do it on your starvation rations.”

Cassie finished her coffee and accepted a Little Debbie oatmeal cake for dessert. A breakfast like this was almost worth the possibility they might have to fight.

They left the hotel as the sun was casting its first glow over the skyscrapers, making patterns of light and shadows on the ravaged streets. They moved around an improvised barricade, stepping over the bodies of children sleeping with the deep oblivion of heavy drink and drugs. An early-rising mutt chased them for a block, yapping, but Julilla didn’t bother trying to shoot it.

“Where are we going, exactly?”

Julilla looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “Watercrest Lofts.”

Cassie shook her head. The name didn’t ring a bell.

“One of those fancy converted brownstones near the warehouse district.”

“You mean the whole urban renewal thing?”

“I mean where they raised the rents so the poor people would have to move out.”

“And what’s supposed to be at the lofts?”

“If my sources are correct, it’s where Thing One and Thing Two live.”

Somehow, Cassie wasn’t surprised. “Why do you think they’ve got the computer?”

Julilla stepped around a mangled bicycle frame, stripped of wheels and gears. “Remember the night they got into the hotel? I spent some time looking at how they climbed in our third-story window.”

Cassie remembered the way Julilla had stood at the window for a long time, running her hands across the sill, examining nicks and gouges.

“I saw the exact same types of marks on the window to Dr. Brody’s office yesterday. I know I’m no detective, but. . .”

“It’s better than no lead at all,” Cassie agreed. “That was smart.”

“We’ll see when we get to the lofts.”

By the time they reached the warehouse district, the mysterious figures who had lurked in the shadows at dawn had given way to sleepy-eyed urchins lolling on curbs and their more enterprising brethren seeking to buy, sell, steal or trade for breakfast. A group of dirty girls rushed Cassie and Julilla trying to interest them in perfume and silk scarves, but went away when they found they had no food to trade. Some Pharm children had a kiosk set up where they chanted their medical offerings. And on a corner, a tall boy in dirty robes shouted passages from the Bible and sang snatches of hymns while a girl in similar garb sat at his feet strumming a guitar.

Cassie was trying to take it all in when a rangy brown-skinned boy ran up to them. “Hey, babes, nice morning! You going somewhere? Want some coffee? I know a place where a pretty girl is always treated right.”

Julilla cocked an eyebrow. “Get out of here. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“Don’t be like that, pretty lady. We all got to stick together and help each other out, you know. Let me show you–”

“I got something to show you.” Julilla drew her Glock.

The boy raised his hands and took a step back. “Now come on, friend, no need to get all Telo on a guy.”

“You’re not my friend.”

He turned appealing eyes on Cassie. “Tell her I’m one of the good guys.”

By now, Cassie had drawn her pepper spray. “How the hell would I know if you’re one of the good guys? Go away.”

“Why are you being this way?” He lowered his voice and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t fool me. You’re not from this side of town. You need a guide. You need a friend. You need–”

Julilla fired into the ground at his feet. “You need to find another mark, you little shit.”

The boy leaped back with a snarl. “Fine, bitch. Be that way.”

Cassie and Julilla watched him slouch across the street where he started chatting up a girl in blue face paint. “I wonder what that was all about,” Cassie said.

“No telling. Probably some sort of pimp deal. Food, sex, you know . . . the basics.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Cassie said as they started walking again. “Especially not just to put off dying for a few more months.”

“I couldn’t either, Telo or no Telo. I’ve seen what bastards men can be, and that’s one area where I’m not compromising. But a lot of girls give it up, and for dumber reasons than just to get by for another day.”

“There was a girl from my school who was selling her services outside the Wal-Mart last winter,” Cassie said. “Me and Leila used to see her there, and sometimes we’d try to talk her into quitting, but she said she could get canned peaches and Hershey bars doing what she was doing and no way was she quitting so she could eat rice and beans with us.”

“I hope it worked out for her,” Julilla said doubtfully.

“It didn’t.” Cassie looked away. “We finally quit seeing her there, and later someone said they saw her body in a ditch. Just her body. Her head was never found.”

“I’m sorry.”

Cassie gave a small shrug. “It wasn’t like she was a friend or anything. I just hope those Hershey bars were worth it.”

They were nearing the renovated district now, which was scarcely distinguishable from the slums that had been there prior to gentrification. Brick walls were pitted from gunfire and blackened from the smoke of blazes set in loft apartments. In an empty corner lot, someone had set fire to a pile of tires, and the smoke rose in a long black plume. Trash blew across the streets, plastic bags rising like balloons on the wind. A pack of children and yapping dogs ran past, their cries shrill in the morning air.

Julilla pointed ahead. “I think that’s it up there. The one with the gargoyles.”

Cassie squinted, then laughed. “Whose idea was it to put gargoyles on an old warehouse? It looks ridiculous.”

“That’s developers for you. Anything to make a yuppie think he’s getting something special instead of someone’s recycled sweatshop.”

As they approached the converted warehouse, Julilla urged caution. “I have no idea how if it’s booby-trapped or what. I don’t even know if they’re here, but we were told these two like to sleep late, so we should be able to corner them if we can catch them by surprise.”

“Should we maybe go in disguise?” Cassie asked.

“Damn.” Julilla stopped in her tracks. “That’s a good idea. We should’ve gone to the Thespians and seen if we could borrow something.”

Cassie pondered. “We could check some of these other buildings for something to put on that would look . . . I don’t know. Less like we’re on a mission?”

The girls ducked around a corner and sat on the stoop of a brownstone to think. Finally, Cassie had an idea. “Remember those religious people we saw a few blocks back? I wonder if they’d loan us their robes for a good cause?”

Julilla gave a slow smile and patted her Glock. “We can always use the persuader if they won’t cooperate willingly.”

“So you’re game?” Cassie got to her feet.

“Oh, hell yes.” Julilla gave an uncharacteristic giggle. “Jesus saves.”

* * *

Cassie took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She thought she heard someone moving around inside, but no one answered. She knocked again. “Voice in the Wilderness Ministries!” She darted a glance at Julilla, who was struggling not to laugh. “Jesus loves you!”

More scuffling, then a male voice. “Go away. We’re not interested.”

Cassie tried again. “Let us share the good news with you, brother!”

“Hope and salvation!” Julilla added. “And food!”

There was a sound of keys turning in locks and bolts being slid back. The door opened a crack, and an eye peered out. “What kind of food?”

“Loaves and fishes. Manna from Heaven. The fruits of the Lord’s creation.” Cassie wedged herself into the doorway as the young man tried to slam it shut. “Jesus loves you and wants–”

“We’re pagans, goddammit,” he said, trying to force the door closed. “Satanists. Heathens. We spit on Jesus.”

Julilla added her weight against Cassie’s. “Satan’s cool. The devil you know, and all that.”

The door fell open, and the girls stumbled into the room. They didn’t have time to recover before the sound of a pump-action shotgun grabbed their attention. They looked up to see a girl standing on the other side of the room, training her weapon on them. She was dressed in black, and her skin was startlingly pale without her gray face paint. Her thick black hair lay coiled at the nape of her neck, and the look in her eyes was almost as lethal as her weapon. “Put your hands up, nutjobs.”

By now, the young man, also in black, equally pale and with the same glossy black hair and eyes, had drawn a semiautomatic. “We’re not interested in salvation, but we don’t mind helping you get to yours.”

“Now, be cool,” Julilla said. “We aren’t here to make trouble.”

“If you didn’t want trouble, you shouldn’t have forced your way in here.” The girl motioned with her gun. “Stand over there.”

Cassie and Julilla edged in the direction indicated. “Do you do this to everyone who wants to talk to you about God?”

“You’re risking your eternal soul,” Cassie added.

Cornered now, they looked for some means of escape, but the boy moved within point blank range, and the girl now set her shotgun aside. She came forward and motioned for Cassie and Julilla to remove their robes. When they moved too slowly to suit her, she patted them down, finding the Glock.

“How many people have you sent to the Kingdom of Heaven with this?”

“It was for protection on the street, not to hurt you.”

“No bullshit, please.” She took away Julilla’s knife and disarmed Cassie of pistol and pepper spray. Then she bound both girls’ wrists and ankles with rope. When she was done, she stepped back and admired her work with satisfaction. “So,” she said, “why don’t you tell us what you’re really after?”

* * *

Several hours later, Cassie and Julilla sat on the sofa, rubbing the rope burns on their wrists. Convincing the strange young couple to untie them hadn’t been difficult, but being allowed to leave was another matter. As for the laptop, the “twins,” as they called themselves, flatly refused to part with it, claiming it held the key to the “fountain of youth.” So Cassie and Julilla found themselves watching Danica, otherwise known as Thing Two, scroll through documents on the computer, occasionally stopping to read something aloud and shake her head. “I understand little bits of it. But not enough to put all the pieces together.”

Thing One, Danny, lay on the floor at her feet, flipping through a book of scientific terms and gazing up at her from time to time with a look that was pure adoration. “You can do it. We already established that the thing that looks like an E means ‘sum.’ And the triangle means ‘change.’”

“Delta,” Danica said, still staring at the screen. “You’ve got to call these things by the right words.”

Danny jumped to his feet with the lithe move of a cat, took her narrow chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. Then he planted a lingering kiss on her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Cassie and Julilla recoiled in disgust.

“You kiss your sister that way?” Cassie said.

Danny glanced over his shoulder. “You got another way in mind?” His traced a finger down Danica’s throat toward her breasts. “Maybe someplace else?”

Danica pushed his hand away. “Stop teasing those poor prudes.” Then to Cassie, she added, “He’s not my brother.”

“But you said you’re twins,” Julilla pointed out. “How can you be twins but not siblings?”

“Don’t you just love a mystery?” Danny slipped his hand under Danica’s shirt, and she shifted in her chair to give him better access.

“It looks like Dr. Brody was involved in some pretty important research,” Danica said, trying to focus her attention on the screen. “He was getting money from national endowments, corporations, private investors–” She moaned softly as Danny knelt beside her, pulling open her blouse and taking one of her nipples in his teeth. “Baby, don’t do that.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “You’re distracting me.”

“Not to mention us,” Julilla said. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to witness a live sex show.”

Danny stopped what he was doing long enough to tell her, “You’re the ones who forced your way in here. Deal.”

Cassie and Julilla looked away while Danny returned to sucking one of Danica’s breasts.

Danica tapped a few keys with one hand, the other still toying with Danny’s hair. “Don’t leave hickeys, honey. That’s gross.”

“Look,” Cassie said, “you’re never going to get those docs figured out at this rate. Let us take the laptop. We promise we’ll let you know what we find out.”

Danica tried to push Danny away, but he dug in with his teeth. She flinched and tugged at his hair until he let go. “How do we know you’ll do any better?” she asked Cassie. “Brody’s son is what, thirteen?”

“Fifteen,” Julilla said. “And we’ve got someone else if he can’t read it.”

“Yeah, the art chick.” Danica contorted herself so Danny could work on the other nipple. “We tried to get information from her place, but–”

“You’re the ones who tore up her workshop?”

“Only the first time. We have no idea who did it the second time.”

“Copycats,” Danny muttered. He stood and tried to pull Danica to her feet. “They all want to be like us.”

Julilla rolled her eyes. “As if. Incestuous freaks.”

“We’re not siblings,” Danica insisted.

“We’re just twins,” Danny said over his shoulder as he pulled Danica toward a back room. “Don’t go anywhere. It would be a pain in the ass to have to hunt you down and kill you.”

“We don’t like blood,” Danica added, grabbing the door keys off a small table.

“Speak for yourself, baby.”

They disappeared into the back of the apartment, leaving Cassie and Julilla staring after them. “I thought I’d seen some weird shit since the Telo,” Julilla said. “But this tops it.”

“So what do we do now?” Cassie glanced toward the door. Every lock and bolt had been set, and as far as they knew, the only keys were in the bedroom where from the sound of things, the twins were wasting no time.

Julilla jumped to her feet and started examining the apartment for another way out, paying particular attention to the windows.

“You’re crazier than they are if you think I’m jumping out a third-floor window.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Julilla was examining the window sill with the same thoughtful expression Cassie had seen the night they saw Danica in the hotel. “Pack up that computer. Preferably in a backpack of some kind.”

“We don’t know the password. Once we turn it off, it’s useless.”

“As long as they didn’t change it, the password is in Doc’s notebooks or that e-planner. Besides, once we’ve got possession, Freak One and Freak Two will have to work with us. No more games.”

Cassie shut down the laptop and slipped it into the first pack she found, wrapping it first in one of the twins’ discarded jackets to pad it. Then while Julilla finished getting the rappelling contraption in place, she scanned the room for anything else worth taking, swiping an acid-etched glass amulet and a packet of almonds.

When all was ready, she went to the window and peered down in dismay. “I’ve done rock climbing,” she said, “But there’s nothing to hold onto here.”

“That’s what the rope is for. Get moving, in case they’re just having a quickie back there.”

“Gloves?”

“No time. If you can’t get a foothold on the building, grip the knots in the rope with your knees and feet to slow your descent. Now, get.”

With a deep breath, Cassie moved out onto the ledge, gripped the rope and began lowering herself, telling herself it was no different from the times she went rock climbing with her eco group. Except that her shoes were all wrong, she had no gloves to keep from getting rope burn, there was no safety harness, and her life and maybe even the lives of others depended on getting down safely. Just like rock climbing. Right.

Above her, Julilla muttered something about what a shame it was the twins had locked up their weapons, then started down the rope. Cassie could only pray she knew what she was doing and that it would hold the two of them. Her hands burning now and her arms shaking with the effort, she reached the broken-out first floor windows and lost her ability to stabilize herself against the building. The rope swung for a moment, and above her, Julilla cursed. Unable to find something to steady herself with, she closed her knees and feet on the rope, and with a silent prayer that Doc would have some kind of salve for her hands, slid the rest of the way to the sidewalk.

A moment later, Julilla dropped to the ground beside her. “Don’t just stand there!”

They took off running.

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

We got the laptop from the twins. Me and Julilla spent hours wandering the streets after we escaped their apartment. We had to take detours and double back a lot, since the twins had our weapons and had threatened to kill us if we got away. And, of course, there were the usual dangers of the street we had to deal with, unarmed and with our hands bleeding from rope burn. We finally came upon some Thespians who helped us get back home, but not before taking us to the theater and insisting we tell the whole story of the twins, which they then reenacted for us. Weirdoes.

Doc was still trying to figure out the password to the computer when I came to bed. I hope Danica didn’t change it. Knowing those two, they’ll probably show up soon to try and steal the computer back, and if we capture them, I suppose we can just ask what the password is. Sid has rigged up some new security measures, and Alex posted extra guards. If the twins try to sneak in, I have a feeling they’ll be sorry. But for now, everyone is on edge, wondering what’s going to happen next. I’d be worried too, if I wasn’t so exhausted.

My hands hurt. Doc rubbed them with a mixture of cooking oil, willow tincture and rose petals, then wrapped them in bandages and told me not to slide down any more ropes. As if. I hope I’m feeling better tomorrow. If not, maybe someone will have some gloves I can wear instead of these stupid bandages.

Leila has been sweet, helping me with things I can’t manage on my own with my hands like this. And it’s not just because I brought her back a May necklace and some almonds. I think things must be going well for her and David. She’s been happier lately, and her attitude is better. I’m happy for her, even though I’m jealous, too.

I had planned to avoid Galahad tonight so I wouldn’t have to hear him tell me I was stupid to go with Julilla. He saved me the trouble by avoiding me instead.

I’m glad I’m too tired to cry.

Chapter Twelve

Cassie lay on one of the mattresses in the ward, propped on her elbows and leafing through one of Doc’s notebooks with her bandaged hands. Beside her, Doc sat cross-legged on the floor, also flipping through a notebook.

“Hypothalamus,” Cassie said.

Doc stopped reading and wrote the word on a pad of paper.

“How many are we up to?”

“Seventeen. When we have twenty, we’ll boot up and try again.”

They went back to reading.

“Somatrem 192,” Doc said. He paused to write it down.

“Sounds promising. Numbers and letters. Strong password.”

Doc grunted and was about to return to his notebook when the door opened and Julilla stood framed in the doorway. “The freaks are here.”

Cassie scrambled to her feet. “Where? How’d they get in? Did we capture them?”

Julilla shook her head. “Showed up in nice street clothes, walking in the front door like it was an ordinary social call. They said they wanted to talk to Mundo, and they’re in the conference room with him now.”

Cassie stared in amazement.

“It was probably the smartest move they could’ve made,” Julilla went on. “Keep the enemy off balance by not doing what they expect you to do. If they beef up security, walk in like a civvie selling Girl Scout cookies. Very clever.”

“Well, I want to see these people,” Doc said. “Did Mundo say it was a closed meeting?”

“It is. But he said to get you.” She motioned to Cassie. “You, too.”

When they got to Conference Suite A, they found the twins sitting at the table with Mundo and Alex, ignoring the tumblers of whiskey in front of them and the armed guards hovering behind their chairs. Danny was in a suit and fedora, Danica in a skirt, jacket and odd little cap with a veil. Everything from their hats to their shoes was black, as was the heavy eyeliner that gave them the appearance of mutant raccoons.

In her loose-fitting pants and T-shirt, which had been all she could manage that morning, Cassie felt slovenly by comparison. As she slid into a seat, she caught Danica staring at her hands. Blushing, Cassie hid them in her lap. Danica made no comment, but her silent smirk spoke volumes.

Meanwhile, Doc was assessing the twins with interest. When Mundo attempted a formal introduction, he brushed him off. “They stole my father’s computer. That’s all I need to know.”

Danica rolled her eyes. “Technically, the Pharms stole it, since they took over the lab and everything in it.”

“And now you have it,” Danny pointed out. “Stolen from us. Two wrongs–”

“Three,” said Danica.

“However many. Don’t make a right. Besides,” Danny stretched his hands in front of him, “if we want to get picky about it, the computer belongs to the Sandoz Corporation. Or am I missing something?”

Mundo rubbed his temples in irritation. “Playground politics of who had what first isn’t going to get us anywhere,” he said. “Point is, we’ve got it and we’re keeping it.”

“We can’t allow that,” Danny said.

“You don’t have much choice,” Alex reminded him. He gestured toward the guards. “We don’t even have to let you leave if we don’t want to. Be glad if we decide to let you out the door with everything you came in here with.”

Danica sat a little straighter. “We came in peace, strictly for discussion and negotiation. You can’t–”

“Like we did yesterday?” Cassie said. “You kept us locked up for hours.”

“And I wouldn’t mind you giving back my Glock,” Julilla added from where she had seated herself by the window. “You’re a fine pair to say what’s right and wrong.”

The twins exchanged a look.

“Okay,” Danica said. “You’re right. We would’ve let you go eventually, though.”

“But without what we went there for.”

Danica gave a shrug. “The computer is useless to you. I changed the password and re-encrypted everything.”

While Doc slumped in his chair in frustration, Danny leaned across the table. “Work with us. We’ve each got something the other wants, and we came to cut a deal. We’ll give you the password if you give us the secret formula.”

Doc frowned in confusion. “What secret formula?”

“Eternal life. The fountain of youth.”

“My father wasn’t working on anything like that. Just ordinary synthetic growth hormone.”

“That’s not what we heard,” Danica said.

“Well, I don’t care what stupid things people are saying on the street,” Doc said. “They’re wrong. There were people who called human growth hormone the fountain of youth, but it was just a figure of speech. It didn’t mean you’d live forever if you took it.”

Danny reached for Danica’s hand. “Are you sure? We want to be together always, and if you promise to play straight with us, we’ll work with you in whatever way we can.”

“The Pharms said–” Danica began.

“Wait.” Mundo leaned his elbows on the table. “Now we’re getting somewhere. What’s your connection to the Pharms?”

“We’re not allies,” Danica said. “But we have business dealings with them like everyone else. Our main contact said the Obits would pay top dollar for Dr. Brody’s computer.” Seeing all eyes upon her, she glanced at Danny, who squeezed her hand, encouraging her to continue.

“The Pharms didn’t want to hand it over without first finding out what was on it,” Danica said. “They figured if it was some kind of formula, maybe they could get May to make it for them and corner the market.”

“Corner the market in what?” Doc said. “I still don’t get this fascination with growth hormone. Are we expecting a plague of shortness now, too?”

“That’s really all we know,” Danny said. “The Obits want the computer, the Pharms wouldn’t give it over, our contact said if we got it for him, he’d play turncoat and split the profit with us.”

“But not until after you’d gotten the data off it,” Cassie said, too curious by the convoluted tale to notice that she had rested her bandaged hands on the table and Danica was staring at them again.

“Well, of course,” Danny said. “It’s a fucked up world. We don’t mean anyone harm, but we only look out for each other. The rest of you–”

“Can rot,” Danica finished.

“Nice attitude,” Julilla mumbled.

Danica turned on her. “Who else is going to look out for us? You?”

“Not likely.”

With a nod of satisfaction, Danica edged closer to her twin.

“If you don’t believe your father was working on anything important,” Danny asked Doc, “why do you care who has the computer?”

“You can’t be that sentimental,” Danica added.

Mundo answered for him. “We’re trying to understand what the fuss is about. The second time May’s shop was invaded, it was by kids demanding. . .” he turned to Doc. “What’s the formal word, again?”

“Somatropin.”

“Any medical book can tell you about that,” Danica scoffed. “I bet the Librarians have books with pretty color pictures so you can even see what the molecules look like.”

“There are other reasons we’re interested,” Mundo said. “Ones we don’t have to share with you.”

“In the same way we don’t have to share the password?”

The silence that followed was almost thick enough to cut. Finally, Doc glanced at Mundo for approval to speak, then said, “We have reason to think my father’s research turned up something related to the Telo.”

* * *

Cassie agreed to help Rochelle mind the clinic while Doc set up the laptop in the conference suite. He was in there all morning with the twins, and at noon, Cassie and Julilla took them some lunch. They found the table littered with reference books and scribbled notes, but from the look of frustration on Doc’s face, it was clear that not much progress had been made.

Doc accepted a bowl from Cassie and peered into it with distaste. “Don’t tell me this is the best your boyfriend could forage.”

Cassie turned away in annoyance. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

While Doc ate, Danica glanced at the offered lunch, then ignored it, nudging Doc away from the keyboard and peering at the screen. “We’ve established that most of the research was just ordinary stuff Dr. Brody was commissioned to do by his funding agencies,” she said to no one in particular. “But there were a couple of test results he seems to have thought worth pursuing on his own.”

Danny looked over her shoulder. “Tell them about the one where he did all those DNA sequences on rabbits.”

“Why?” Danica stood and stretched. “We don’t know what the results mean. Maybe he figured out why some rabbits have ears that stick up and others don’t.”

“That would be dumb,” Doc said, but the twins ignored him, throwing their arms around each other and kissing casually at first, but then with greater eagerness, fumbling with each others’ buttons. Doc sighed and glanced at Cassie. “They’ve been doing this all morning.”

“You should be glad that’s all they’re doing,” Julilla told him. She turned to the twins. “Are you going to need a room? Because we’ll find you one.”

Danica gave a bemused grin. “Thanks, but we aren’t planning to stay the night.”

“Not with the crap you call food around here,” Danny agreed. He pulled Danica closer, fondling her through the fabric of her skirt. “Besides, we’re good at making the most of whatever space we find ourselves in.”

Danica giggled and pushed him away. “Let’s not take advantage of these people’s hospitality.” She turned back to the computer, still standing, but bent over with her elbows on the table. “It’s weird why he went from doing all that hormone research to this sudden interest in DNA.”

“I agree hormones are much more interesting,” Danny said, running his hands up her thighs and grinding his hips into her backside. “In fact, if it were me, that’s probably all I’d ever study.”

Julilla motioned to Doc and Cassie, and together they left the room. In the hallway, Doc leaned against a wall. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m close, and if I didn’t have the clinic to run, I could probably figure it out. But we don’t have a lot of time if the Pharms and Obits are after the same information. I guess we’ll have to get May.”

“That’s not something to be ashamed of,” Julilla told him.

“You already did a lot,” Cassie added. “You narrowed it down so she’ll be able to get the answer faster.”

Doc gestured toward the conference room door. “How long do you think those two are going to go at it?”

“Long enough to visit our latest food poisoning case,” Cassie said. “Let’s go to the clinic.”

“And I’ll get a couple guards and see if May is available for the afternoon,” Julilla said. “With any luck, we’ll have this figured out by supper time.”

* * *

Cassie tapped on the door to the conference suite. A guard let her in, and she stood a moment while her eyes adjusted to the gloom. May sat at the table, her skin lit with a bluish cast from the computer screen while Doc sat beside her, the light flashing off his glasses. They didn’t look up at Cassie’s entrance, too busy talking about telomeres.

“You going to eat here or in the dining room?” Cassie asked.

“We’re finally getting somewhere,” Doc said.

May grunted in agreement.

Cassie took their answer as a request that food be brought in. She looked around. “Where are the twins?”

May gestured toward the window.

Squinting, Cassie made out two dark forms intertwined on the sofa. “Are they asleep or having sex again?”

“Done with sex,” Doc said in disgust. “Now they’re sleeping it off.”

“Good show, though,” said one of the guards. “Even if they did leave most of their clothes on.”

“Very distracting,” May said, with a level of absorption in her work that suggested she wasn’t distracted by much. “Look here.” She tapped the screen, and Doc leaned closer. “Eighty-two percent of the population sample demonstrated a causal relation between increased rgHGH levels and reduced expression of the telomeres in the presence of the viral agent.” She sat back with a pleased smile. “That’s one hell of a correlation.”

Doc agreed. “But would the results scale to a larger sample size? Or to human subjects?”

“That’s the million-dollar question. Or million mitochondria. Take your pick.”

“But what does it all mean?” Cassie said. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“If you think we’re saying human growth hormone might slow down the Telo, you’re right,” May said.

Cassie paused, considering the implications. “So you’re saying if we could get our hands on some growth hormone, we might not get Telo?”

“Not exactly,” Doc said. “You’re already infected. It would extend your life, though. You’d live longer than you would’ve otherwise.”

“How much longer?”

“Hard to say. Research indicates a few extra weeks with rats, months with rabbits. In humans, it could be a year or two, if the effect is similar.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go to, if you’re still going to die before you’re even halfway through your twenties. I mean, you still have to make the stuff, right?”

May shook her head. “It’s no longer possible. Can’t get the items one needs, and no electricity to run the equipment, anyway.”

Cassie slumped into a chair. “Well, I guess that’s it then, right? Totally useless.”

“Not totally,” Doc said. “It just means one would have to acquire the real thing instead of making it in a lab.”

“And how does one do that?”

With a cynical lift of an eyebrow, May said, “You harvest it. From the dead, before they start to rot.”

Suddenly the mission of the Obits became clear. “And if there are no newly dead. . .” She couldn’t say the words.

May finished for her. “You make your own.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

It looks like we have our answer. The twins were disappointed that none of the research offered eternal life, but they seemed even more upset that the Obits’ kidnappings might be to procure growth hormone from living children. The twins like to brag that they don’t care about anyone but each other, but it looks like they have their weak points like anyone else.

For her part, May was fascinated by the results of the research. I could tell by the excitement in her voice and the way she kept scrolling through computer files, even though she kept saying she wasn’t going to do any more for us. She’s lying. She’s as hooked as any of us.

Now the question is who the Obits are and whether they’re working for themselves or for someone else. And as for the Pharms, do they know what it is they’re after? We think not, which is a good thing, otherwise they’d not be handing over the children to the Obits. Chances are they’ll find out soon enough, though. When they do, none of us will be safe.

I tried to explain some of this to Leila tonight, but she wasn’t interested once she learned there was nothing in the research to indicate we could get our normal lifespan back. She had other news. Apparently Paul has gone over to the Christian Soldiers, which is why we haven’t seen him lately. According to David, Galahad is trying to get him to come back, but isn’t having much luck.

I think Paul would be happier with the Christian Soldiers. They seem like his type, and maybe he can find himself a new girl to be in love with — one who reads the Bible but doesn’t want to live by any of the things it says about forgiveness.

Maybe this is why Galahad has been so strange with me. I know I’d be worried if someone I cared about had defected to a cult.

Chapter Thirteen

Cassie examined the gray, watery substance that was supposed to be breakfast.

“Take it or leave it,” Eleven said.

She accepted a bowl and waited while Leila got hers. As they sought a quiet banquette by the window, she thought back to the breakfast Sandra gave her the morning she went to the twins’ loft with Julilla. Dealing with poor rations had been bad before, but knowing she could be having eggs or a Twinkie was almost unbearable. She stirred the contents of her bowl, debating whether the rumbling of her stomach deserved such an insult. She had just decided to have a taste when a shadow blocking the window caught her attention.

“This seat taken?” David said, sliding onto the banquette next to Leila without waiting for an answer.

Galahad hesitated, meeting Cassie’s eyes with an uncertain smile.

Cassie scooted over to make room but affected an attitude of indifference.

“Late forage today?” Leila asked.

David shook his head. “There won’t be one. Alex needed the shuttle. Something about this Pharm-Obit conspiracy theory you people are so excited about.”

“So why didn’t you go with the Thespians like the other time?” Leila swirled the small bit of cereal in her bowl. “The food they’re serving us is crap.”

“I was game. It’s this guy who said no.” David waved a hand in Galahad’s direction. “He says the Thespians are ‘too dramatic,’ and he’s ‘not in the mood.’”

Galahad pushed his untouched bowl away. “I’m not up for anyone’s theatrics today. Doesn’t mean you can’t go.”

“Nah.” David grinned. “This way, I have an excuse to spend the day lying around doing nothing.”

“That doesn’t sound very productive,” Cassie said.

David sat a little straighter. “Does every day have to be productive? You’re as bad as Sir Galahad here.” He leaned across the table. “Listen, I’m more productive in a single day of risking my ass on the streets than half the brats around here are in an entire month. We’ve got a whole group of parasites living off the supplies I steal, and what do they ever do for me? Or for anyone else? They spend all day whining about the goddamn Telo and trying to avoid doing chores or even getting so much as a basic education.” He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve earned a day of rest.”

“Of course you have,” Galahad said, trying to smooth things over. “We all work hard to contribute.”

“I don’t,” Leila said brightly. “I’m lazy.” She gave David a sidelong glance.

“You weren’t when you were with me last night,” he said.

Before Cassie could steer the conversation in a new direction, Julilla strode up to their table looking grim. “Zach is sick,” she said. “Looks like Telo.”

The little group exchanged glances. Zach was only seventeen, which was young for a Telo victim, but they had seen it happen before.

“I’ve been asked to take over his duties for the day, but that means someone has to take a package to May. Sid made some kind of generator thing so she can run some of her science equipment.” Julilla met Cassie’s eyes. “I was wondering if you could deliver it for me.”

Before she could answer, Galahad butted in. “No way. It’s too dangerous for a girl out there alone.”

“And if we send a guy, the Pharms will be onto us for sure. We have to send a girl, unless you want to put on a dress and make like you’re in the market for charm bracelets.”

“I’ll go,” Cassie said, ignoring Galahad’s stare. “Where’s the package and when do I need to take it?”

“Sid has it in his storeroom. And the sooner you can leave, the better.”

Cassie made to get up, but Galahad grabbed her arm. “I’ll go with you.”

“We’ll all go,” Leila said. “May has some new designs I’ve been wanting to check out.” She flashed David an excited smile. “And maybe we can go to the park afterwards. It’ll be fun.”

David scowled in disgust. “You’re crazy if you think I’m spending my day looking at a bunch of girly doo-dads and hanging out in a park like a pre-Telo tourist. I said it was going to be a day of rest, and that’s what it’ll be.”

“Please?” Leila put her hand on his.

“No. You go and have a good time.” He stood up. “I’m going back to bed since breakfast sucks and lunch will probably be no better. Join me when you get back. I’ll be saving you a spot.”

To everyone’s surprise, David gave her a kiss before walking away.

“Well?” Julilla said. “Is it decided? Because if it is, we’re wasting time.”

* * *

The streets were unusually calm, other than for some Pharm vendors, a few teens sleeping off a night of drinking and a knot of children gathered around a wild-haired pre-teen making an impassioned speech about the need to “unify and organize.” They arrived at May’s shop with such little trouble that it was almost spooky.

They found the store neat and in order, with May idly arranging earrings in a display case hung with a gaudy glitter sign that said “New!” She looked up and smiled at the little group, her gaze falling on the bulging canvas bag slung over Cassie’s shoulder. “Good morning. Always nice to see some friendly faces.”

Before Cassie could explain their errand, Leila rushed the display case and pressed her nose against the glass. “Is this the new series? They’re beautiful.”

Cassie peered over her shoulder. The earrings, charms and pendants were made of oddly-shaped bits of mirror, their edges warped by acid and darkened with smoke. Each was etched in the center with a design or picture, some black and delicate like webs, others bold and colorful with reds, blues and greens. Lying on their bed of black velvet, they sparkled like stars in the pale glow of one of May’s chemical light orbs.

“This series is pretty special,” May said. “I’ve been working on it for a long time but didn’t want to put anything out until I had enough that if people who liked it told their friends, there would be some for them, too.”

“That’s good sales strategy,” Galahad said. “But have you thought about doing actual marketing? You know, like maybe loan pieces to girls who’ll show them off to other girls who will then come and buy?”

May considered. “You mean like walking billboards? That might not be a bad idea. I’ll need to think about it.” Her attention returned to Cassie’s bag, her eyes bright with expectation. “Is that my generator?”

Cassie set the bag on the counter and took out the converted automobile alternator. With it, Sid had sent some instructions, and while May read them, Cassie examined the gadget, which had some new modifications from the original windmill design. This one appeared able to run on either wind or solar energy and had an extra attachment that Cassie couldn’t immediately see the use of.

“To hook up to a bicycle or cranking device,” May said, noticing what she was looking at. “All on its own, something like this is fine for running a fan or charging some batteries, but my centrifuge and autoclave don’t run on batteries, and I need a steady, consistent source of power while they’re in use.”

Cassie nodded. “He also says whenever you can get him some ammonia, he’ll make you a small refrigerator. He found some plans and says they’re pretty simple.”

“The forage team has been told to keep an eye out for ammonia, too,” said Galahad from where he had been holding the display case door so Leila could try on a bracelet. “If we find some before you do, we’ll let you know.”

“Looks like I’ll have a proper lab in no time,” May said with a shake of her head. “I swore I wasn’t going to get back into science. Funny how things change.”

“As long as things change for the good,” Galahad said. “We have to keep going forward.”

“Until we die,” Leila said, slipping a pair of earrings into her ears and peering in a mirror.

“Besides, I don’t know how good a change this is going to be,” May said. “I want to die with a paintbrush in my hand, not a test tube.”

“Cassie?” Galahad turned to her. “Am I the only optimist in a room full of cynical females?”

In the dim light of the shop, Cassie saw something in his eyes that went deeper than his teasing words. The idea that he counted on her to keep up a brave front inspired her to speak more confidently than she might have. “Everybody dies,” she said. “What matters is how we live in the meantime.”

* * *

May paid for her generator in aspirin and menthol that she siphoned from what she had made for the Pharms. Cassie and Galahad put the items into packs that they slipped under their clothes to keep them safe from any Pharms who might be about. To further disguise the reason for their visit, May gave them some of her failed jewelry creations, which Cassie thought looked perfectly fine, and she let Leila have a pair of earrings from the new series.

On the way back to the hotel, Cassie exchanged one of the plastic necklaces for skewers of meat from a sidewalk stand. She and Galahad ate ravenously, too hungry to care where the meat might have come from, but Leila demurred, claiming she didn’t have an appetite.

Cassie couldn’t bother to be annoyed by Leila’s prissiness. It was a beautiful sunny day, the streets were quiet, and she had Galahad beside her, not holding her hand, but walking closer than a boy who wasn’t interested would. Her thoughts drifted to the times he had kissed her and to the time he had nearly undressed her in the garden. She thought, too, of the casual way the twins fondled each other, making love without a care for who might see. Although their way could never be her way, Cassie wished she had just a little of their confidence. If Galahad acted like an ordinary person, it would be a lot easier. She was about to reach for his hand, and to hell with if she was wrong, when he waved for both girls to stop. He squinted into the distance, reaching for the gun at his hip.

“What is it?” Cassie said, fumbling for her pepper spray.

“I’m not sure. But this isn’t their turf.”

“Who?” Cassie could just make out a group in red and white in the distance.

“Christian Soldiers.” He stole a glance at Leila, who was unarmed. “We better detour.”

Leila protested, but Galahad was firm. If Paul was with them, it might mean they were safe, but it might also mean they were even more at risk. Cassie took Leila by the elbow and pulled her down a side street, following Galahad.

A block later, a group of children ran past, fleeing the main road.

“Not good.” Galahad urged the girls down a different street.

Two more blocks, and another pack of children ran past, this time spurred on by the sound of gunfire and pursuing feet.

“Shit.” Galahad tried a different direction as the streets erupted in a chaos of running and shouting, accompanied by the sounds of gunshots and breaking glass. Pulling Cassie close, he looked around wildly. “There.” He pointed with his gun. “We’ll hide in that restaurant.”

They made a dash for it and were almost across the street when a pack of children and yapping dogs rounded the corner and cut them off. From behind, someone fired a gun, and one of the children collapsed, bleeding from an ugly wound in his stomach.

Galahad tugged on Cassie’s arm. “Hurry. The restaurant.”

Cassie started to go, but Leila froze, staring at the injured child. “We should bring the kid.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Cassie said. “He’ll die, anyway.” She tried to hold onto her as Galahad pulled in the other direction. “Please. They’re almost here.”

Still Leila hesitated. “But maybe–”

“Sinners!”

Leila gasped and ducked behind Galahad as a pack of Christian Soldiers bore down on them. One of their party, his shaved head marking him as a neophyte, ran ahead and lunged at Galahad. “Let me at the whore!”

While Galahad spoke in calming tones and Paul screeched about sinners, Cassie tried to pull Leila away, only to find her rooted to the spot with the look of a frightened rabbit. Cassie tried to drag her away by force while Galahad’s and Paul’s voices rose and the children around them took to their heels. Just when she saw a clear path of escape, the rest of Christian Soldiers closed in with clubs in their hands and murder in their eyes. Now Paul broke away from Galahad and pointed at Leila. “This is the whore I told you about,” he shouted to the group. “She’s in league with the Father of Lies!”

In the chaos that followed, Cassie thought she heard Galahad’s gun go off. She managed to get one Christian Soldier in the face with her pepper spray, but someone grabbed her by the hair, jerking her neck back and making her drop the canister. At her feet, clubs rained down on Leila, and in the mayhem, someone yelled that Cassie, too, was a whore who deserved to die. Galahad tried to make his way toward her, but two Christian Soldiers blocked his way and knocked the gun out of his hand with their clubs. Cassie was struggling against the one holding her hair, kicking at anyone who came near, when suddenly she was turned loose and fell to the ground. She had the presence of mind to roll away from a foot aimed at her face, when another of her attackers collapsed, blood spreading across his white tunic.

“It’s the devil and his minion!” someone shouted, pointing.

Cassie looked up to see Thing One on the restaurant balcony, aiming a rifle into the mob. Crouched at his feet, Thing Two was reloading. With their black clothes, grayed-out faces and charcoaled eyes, they looked like something escaped from hell.

Someone grabbed her under the arms and pulled her to her feet. Cassie struggled and kicked until Galahad’s voice in her ear stopped her. “Come on. They’re covering us.”

“But Leila–”

Galahad jerked her arm so hard, she had to follow or have it torn from the socket. With a staccato of gunfire ringing in their ears, they ran, ducking into a side street, then an alleyway, then into an open door and the filthy recesses of an abandoned building that reeked of unremoved Telo victims.

Galahad wouldn’t let her stop, pulling Cassie up stairs, down hallways, into and out of rooms of rotting bodies. Finally, Cassie could go no farther. She wrenched her hand from his and sank to the floor beside a metal office desk where a desiccated form still lay slumped across a keyboard. “No,” she said. “They’re not coming.” Her mind flashed back to the bloody mess on the street that couldn’t possibly be her friend. “No more!” She heard herself screaming, but it was as if it was some other girl doing it. In her mind, she was calm, but when Galahad crouched beside her and took her in his arms, she couldn’t tell him that and could only cry.

* * *

They stayed in the building until nearly nightfall, slipping out at dusk and making their way to the theater, which was nearest safe place Galahad could think of. The Thespians were helpful in their strange way, arranging a cot for Cassie to rest on and quoting Shakespeare. More helpful was the shot of vodka Elissa’s page brought on a silver tray. It dulled her racing mind while she waited for Galahad to explain to Elissa and her guard commander what had happened. It also took the edge off her desire to rage at the made-up boy who stood at the foot of her cot declaiming from the tragedies:

It seems to me most strange that men should fear;

Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come.

It crossed her mind to ask the fool how he would like being beaten to death in the street, but instead, she accepted another shot of vodka and sank into the luxury of not having to care about anything for a little while.

It could’ve been an hour or only a few minutes, but when Cassie opened her eyes, she found Elissa standing by her cot, wearing a blue dress that looked like something out of a production of Camelot. The expression on her painted face was kind as she reached for her hand. “We’re sorry about your friend.”

Cassie gave a faint nod, wishing the room would quit trying to spin.

“We told Galahad you can stay here as long as you like. When you’re ready to leave, we’ll give you an escort back to the hotel, and we’ll coordinate strategy with your leader to avenge this needless attack.”

Again, Cassie nodded, her tipsy brain not up to the task of wondering why the Thespians would have any interest in a risky revenge over the death of a Regent, especially one as unimportant as Leila.

Elissa brushed a lock of hair out of Cassie’s face, then walked away with a regal air. But as she left the room, Cassie thought she heard the empress mutter, “Fuckers. Should’ve cleaned out that goddamn cult a long time ago.”

Cassie closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Galahad was sitting by her side. She was so relieved to see him that she couldn’t find words and hoped he could read her mind instead.

“You okay?”

“I think I’m drunk.”

“It helps. Just don’t get used to it. Then it makes things worse.” He took her hand. “I feel like an idiot. You warned me, and I should’ve listened. I’d give anything to go back and do this day different.”

“I know.”

“Do you really? Sometimes I think–”

“Please don’t talk. I’m drunk and I won’t remember it.” Cassie tried to create a space beside her on the cot, too tipsy to be afraid of rejection. “Hold me. Just until I fall asleep.”

He looked at the narrow spot beside her. “That’s not a lot of room.”

“Please?”

Galahad stood up, still eyeing the cot skeptically. But he wedged himself into it somehow, and Cassie nestled in his arms. With her head pillowed on his chest and lulled by the steady beat of his heart, she fell asleep.

* * *

A group of Thespian guards, attired in phony chain mail and faux-leather leggings, accompanied Cassie and Galahad back to the hotel after midnight. As they approached the front entrance, they could see that all the older Regents had waited up for them, full of eager questions. Cassie was glad she was still numb and had the warmth of Galahad’s embrace imprinted on her recent memory. Otherwise, she didn’t know how she would’ve coped with the fuss when all she wanted was to slip away to someplace dark and quiet so she could try to make sense of the day.

She was wondering how she could best get away, and if Galahad would go with her, when David stalked out of the shadows, his face paler, his eyes more deeply charcoaled than she had ever seen. There was something malignant in the way he glared at Galahad, and Cassie wished she could have another shot of vodka and be oblivious to what would happen next. Beside her, Galahad stiffened, and there was a note of fear in his eyes, despite the defiant lift of his chin. Cassie waited for the accusations to begin and was relieved when Alex broke the tension.

“Get back, everyone!” He pushed his way through the crowd, forcing David aside. “Come with me,” he told Galahad and Cassie. “Mundo wants your report.” To the rest of the group, he shouted, “All questions will be answered after the debriefing.”

Alex and his guards ushered Cassie and Galahad to Conference Room A, where Mundo and Julilla were waiting. Julilla rose to greet them and gave Cassie a hug that startled her even as it made her want to cry.

Mundo urged everyone to sit and directed a guard to have food and wine brought in. He asked about their health, injuries, and how the Thespians had treated them, until the food arrived — a bowl of out-of-date packets of potato chips. Cassie went through two packets of chips while Galahad did most of the talking, giving a detailed description of the events of the day. When he was done speaking, the others eyed him solemnly.

“You realize what we have to do next,” Mundo said.

“I know.” Galahad looked at his hands. “And if it’s not an issue with anyone, I want the command.”

Alex looked at him askance. “I don’t doubt your ability, but what about conflict of interest?”

“That’s why I need to do it. I won’t have anyone say I allow my cousin to kill our people. Besides, I forage this city every day. If the Christian Soldiers are out of their territory, I stand a better chance of finding them than you do. No offense.”

“Good point,” Julilla said, not giving Alex a chance to respond. “But if you have to face him in armed combat, do you think you could–?”

“After this? Yes.”

For a moment, everyone looked at each other in silence. Then Mundo said, “Fine. You say you want a chance to make things right, you’ll have it.”

“Can I be on this team, too?” Cassie asked.

“No,” Galahad said, with such firmness she was taken aback.

“But she was my friend. I want to do this.”

Now the others at the table were shaking their heads. Alex started to explain, but Julilla stood and motioned for Cassie to follow her into the hallway.

“I’m not weak, and I’m not a child,” Cassie said when they were alone.

“That’s not why,” Julilla said. “It’s that you’ve never trained for battle, and this sort of fight isn’t one to engage in when you’re upset.”

“What about Galahad? He’s upset, too.”

“He’s ex-Kevork. Totally different situation.” Seeing that this answer didn’t satisfy, she added, “Besides, your boyfriend is going to have a hard enough time doing the right thing without you there. You haven’t trained to fight together, so if you go, he’ll be worrying about protecting you when he should be worrying about his mission.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and his worries are his problem.”

“His worries are our reality.” Julilla gave her a level look. “You know I wouldn’t bullshit you. Besides, you look like you could sleep for days.”

Cassie folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want to sleep. Every time I close my eyes–”

Julilla rested a hand on Cassie’s shoulder and peered into her face. “Want to tell me what really happened out there? Might help to talk about it.”

“You heard what happened. That fucking bastard. I should’ve pushed him off the garden patio when I had the chance. Or had Truong shoot him, or–”

“Be careful with the what-ifs. They’ll kill you.”

“So will damn near everything else.”

“No, the other stuff only kills your body. The what-ifs kill your soul.”

* * *

Cassie couldn’t bear the thought of going to her room and asked Galahad if she could sleep in his room instead while he stayed up to plan strategy. To her disappointment, he refused. “I have my reasons,” he said. “Please believe me.”

She didn’t believe him, but let him walk her to the clinic where he settled her on a mattress in the ward. After explaining the situation to Doc, who was too distracted by Zach’s Telo symptoms to mind if Cassie made herself at home, Galahad knelt by her side. “Is there anything you need?”

She shook her head. The only thing she needed was for today to have never happened. “Don’t go.”

“We’re not leaving yet. We’ll probably be talking all night.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I’ll try to come by before we leave, but if I can’t, I don’t want you to worry about me or anything else.”

After Galahad had gone, Doc came to sit by her side. He offered a few strained condolences, then fell silent, unsure how to continue.

Cassie forced a smile. “This isn’t a suicide watch. You don’t have to stay with me.”

Doc was visibly relieved. “It’s not that I don’t care. You’re one of my only real friends here. But between Zach and Nisha, and then waiting up in case you or Galahad came back injured. . .”

Touched, Cassie rested her hand on his. “Get some sleep. If I need anything, I can get it myself.”

“Sasha’s covering the ward tonight and will get me if you need me. I sent her to get you something to help you sleep, so she should be back any minute.”

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile.”

Doc got to his feet and affected a stern demeanor. “I’m not. I just don’t want you having bad dreams and screaming. You’ll scare my patients.”

Cassie suppressed a giggle at the thought, which was funny because it was so likely to be true. She was glad when Sasha came into the ward with a glass and a half-full bottle of wine.

Cassie thanked her and poured a glass, trying not to think about what Galahad had said — that such measures would make things worse if she came to rely on them. Well, it was only for this one night. She would be better tomorrow. She would have to be. If she wasn’t going to be strong, she might as well hang herself off the patio balcony and be done with it.

She gulped the wine, wincing at its sour taste and hoping it would make her dizzy like the vodka had. As the warm glow spread through her veins, her muscles relaxed, her mind slowed down, and she found herself wondering if Leila was still lying in the street. She would have to go check. Yes, that would be her mission while the others were away avenging themselves against the Christian Soldiers. She would find Leila and give her a proper burial.

Comforted by the thought that there was something she could do, she allowed the wine to overtake her thoughts and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Fourteen

When Cassie awoke, it was late in the morning and someone was shaking her shoulder.

“There’s people here to see you,” Rochelle said.

Cassie opened her eyes, then squinted them closed again. For a dim room, it sure was bright. She couldn’t think of anyone she wanted to see except Galahad, and he wouldn’t ask Rochelle to announce him — he would walk right in and wake her up. “Tell whoever it is to go away.”

Rochelle nudged her to sit and handed her a glass of water. “It’s those new friends of yours. The ones who sneak around in black.”

“Thing One and Thing Two?”

“They’ve been waiting an hour already, and Doc said to wake you up before they start having sex in the lobby.”

“That would be just like them.”

“So should I send them in here, or do you want to meet them out there?”

Cassie struggled to her feet, her head pounding and every muscle aching. “I guess I better go out there. If they come in here, the mattresses might give them ideas.”

Rochelle brought her a bowl of water so she could wash her face and smooth her hair. Since Cassie wasn’t ready to face her empty room alone, she straightened her rumpled clothes as best she could and went to see what the twins wanted.

She found them sitting on the hearth of the fireplace, their weapons at their feet and their clothes just as dirty as Cassie’s own. In the light from the tall windows, their gray and black makeup looked smudged and slept-in, although it was still scary enough that a group of children had stopped playing games in the lobby and sat on a sofa across the room, staring at the visitors, their feet on the upholstery and knees tucked up to their chests.

The twins got up and walked toward her with their usual cat-like arrogance. But then they paused and looked at each other, doubt written on their faces.

“Thank you for yesterday,” Cassie said, guessing they were hoping for a reward.

Danny gave an embarrassed shrug. “We’re just sorry we got there too late for your friend.”

“We’d seen the Christian Soldiers in our territory before,” Danica explained. “And lately, they’ve been coming around more often. But since they always harassed expendables and didn’t take any food, we left them alone. It never occurred to us that after you left May’s shop–”

“You knew we went to May’s?”

“We’ve been staking it out for a long time,” Danny said. “You hadn’t figured that out?”

Cassie ran a hand through her hair. She wasn’t up for this. “Well, thanks again. Would you like some food, or. . .?” She prodded her sluggish mind for ideas. What would the twins value? A solar oven, maybe? One of Sid’s converted alternators?

Danny shook his head. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“Your food is crap, anyway,” Danica added. “No, we’re here on a different errand. We hope we’re not doing this wrong by coming to you first.”

“Maybe we should’ve gone to Mundo.”

“But we’d seen you with the girl before, and we know she was your friend.”

“And we didn’t want to bother your leader if this is more like a personal or family type of deal.”

Cassie looked from one twin to the other, wishing they would just say what was on their minds. “Well?”

“We brought your friend’s body,” Danica said, as if it were obvious.

“We figured it might be hard for you,” Danny said. “It was messy.”

“Lots of blood,” Danica said with a shudder.

“But don’t worry, we shrouded her up proper and everything.”

Cassie blinked back a sudden urge to cry.

“Oh, God,” Danica said. “Don’t do that. I can’t stand tears any more than I can stand blood.”

Danny slipped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “You’re starting to make me think you don’t like any bodily fluids.”

“Save that thought for later.” Danica snuck a kiss, then turned her attention back to Cassie. “Anyway, we left her in the loading dock, since we see your shuttle is gone for the day. If you’ve got a better place in mind, we can move her. Just say where.”

Cassie had no idea where to put Leila, not knowing Regents burial customs. Hoping a plan would come to her, she followed the twins to the loading dock where the black-wrapped form lay against the wall, still strapped to an improvised stretcher. She stared for a long moment, wondering why her mind refused to come up with an idea for what to do next. She had buried her parents, teachers and many friends. Death was almost as routine as brushing her teeth. Why was she confounded by this one?

“How long had you known each other?”

Cassie started. She had forgotten the twins were still there, waiting for her to say something. “Nearly our whole lives. We were neighbors. We weren’t always best friends because we were too different. But we knew we could count on each other.”

“That means a lot,” Danny said. “I’m sorry we don’t have any ideas where you should bury her, but we don’t keep up with which places are full, which places get dug up by dogs and that sort of thing.”

“It’s okay. You’ve done more than enough.” Cassie struggled to come up with a suitable expression of gratitude, but could think of nothing that was adequate. “I owe you. And I hope I’ll have a chance to do you a really big favor someday.”

“So do we,” Danica said with a saucy lift of her chin.

“Favors make the world go ‘round,” Danny agreed. He grabbed Danica from behind and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle and press her backside into his groin.

“Can I see you out?” Cassie asked.

“We’ll find our own way,” Danny said. “After a quick tour of your parking garage.”

“We hope no one minds,” Danica said with a smirk.

“Too bad if they do.” Danny pulled her toward the stairs and yanked open the fire door. With a little wave, they slipped through the doorway and were gone, their giggles echoing in the stairwell.

Cassie shook her head hard. Then after a long moment spent staring at Leila’s shrouded form, she went into the hotel. She had a funeral to plan.

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

Leila’s funeral will be tomorrow. Although I would like to bury her properly, Mundo, Doc, Alaina and the others said cremation would be better than attracting attention in one of the parks by digging a grave. Graves just end up being dug up anyway by dogs looking for a meal or by kids hoping something valuable got buried with the deceased.

We think by tomorrow we’ll have other dead, and if we plan for a cremation, we won’t have to worry about how many graves to dig. We’ll just light one big fire for all of them.

How many? We don’t know. Zach has Telo, and there’s no telling how long he’ll last. When it strikes a young person, they generally linger for awhile, unlike older people whose telomeres were already short to begin with. But we told Zach we would help him commit suicide any time he asks, so he might be dead by tomorrow, too.

And then there’s our people who went to fight the Christian Soldiers. They aren’t back yet, and no one has heard any word. There was a big fire to the south this afternoon, with lots of smoke. We don’t know if it has anything to do with the battle, though. As of an hour ago, there was still a glow toward the south and a smell of something toxic in the air. No telling what it means. It was too far away to send one of our remaining guards to investigate, and the Thespians are in the same situation we’re in. Unless we know for sure where our people are, we can’t send anyone traipsing the city on a goose chase.

So we wait.

I could end up burning Galahad along with Leila by tomorrow. The thought makes me anxious, and I pace the rooms when it gets too bad. No one minds or even seems to notice. We’re all scared and coping in our own way. Alaina snapped at the children and locked herself in her room. Rochelle refused to go off duty, and she and Doc have rearranged their triage setup four times already, ignoring their patients, who I’ve been caring for when I’m calm enough to do more than walk the halls like an animal trapped in a zoo.

What wouldn’t I give for just one working cell phone tower or television station right now?

Sid is holed up in his office, and I heard him trying to get a radio broadcast when I walked past, but all he got was static, which is all he ever gets. I don’t know why he thinks it will ever be different. I guess we each have our own form of optimism.

But I’m not optimistic. I won’t be able to burn Galahad’s body. I’d rather dig a grave and climb in with him so I can die holding his bones. Crazy, I know. All these deaths must be catching up with me and I’m finally losing my mind.

Chapter Fifteen

After an anxious day and an even more nerve-wracking night, Cassie dozed off in the pre-dawn hours while reading to Zach, as much to distract herself as him. She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep until a commotion in next room woke her up.

“Where’d you put the suture needles, Rochelle? Dammit!”

Cassie dropped her book and ran into the triage room where Doc and Rochelle were tripping over each other in confusion. “Are they back? Are they hurt? What happened?”

“Hell if I know,” Doc said. “The shuttle just pulled up. Help me find my curved cutting needles. I’ve got my straight and half-curved, but–”

Cassie couldn’t be bothered. She took off down the hall, dashed across the lobby and forced her way through a knot of children standing in the doorway. In the dim light of dawn, people were getting off the shuttle, dirty, exhausted and stumbling about as they helped each other down the steps and into the hotel. Those who were injured staggered to the curb or leaned against the nearest wall, glassy-eyed with shock.

Cassie scanned the returnees, not seeing Galahad among them. She shoved a child out of the way and reached the van in time to help Julilla step to the curb, where she stumbled, crying out when Cassie grabbed her arm to steady her. Cassie let go and found her hand wet from the blood oozing through Julilla’s sleeve. “Doc’s set up for triage,” she said, wiping her hand on her pants and hoping Doc had found his missing needles. “Go to the clinic. We’ve got things under control here.”

Julilla didn’t seem to hear. She mumbled something and limped her way to the back of the van where others were removing a body. Cassie followed, barely able to hear herself think over the pounding of her heart. She peered into the face of the dead guard. It wasn’t him.

“Don’t just stand there.”

David waved her out of the way. Sweat had washed his face nearly clean of Kevorkian makeup, and Cassie thought this made him even more frightening than usual.

“Help or move,” he snapped.

Cassie wanted to ask if Galahad was okay, but something in David’s tone gave her pause. Her mother always said to never ask a question you don’t want the answer to, and since there was only one answer she wanted, she turned her attention back to the van where another body was being handed down. It wasn’t him, either, but this time, she noticed two tall forms directing activity from inside. She squinted, unable to make out their features in the shadows.

“Your boyfriend is fine,” David said at her elbow. “Now grab that corpse or I’ll move yours.”

Cassie jumped out of the way but remained nearby. Until she saw his face, she wouldn’t allow herself to believe it. Finally, the last body was handed down and Galahad came to the doorway. His eyes met hers and with an expression of relief, he jumped to the ground. Cassie launched herself at him, and he closed his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. But when he let her go, it was with practical instructions, not the words of love she had hoped to hear. “Take Julilla to the clinic. She’s worse off than she realizes. I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”

“What about you?” Now that Cassie took a step back, she could see he was holding his arm strangely.

“It’s not urgent. How about you do my worrying for me until I can get these people dispositioned and give my report?”

“I’ve already been worrying. All day.”

“Then another hour won’t hurt, and–” from inside the van, Alex called his name, and Galahad looked around. “Yeah, man. Hold on.” He turned back to Cassie. “Take care of Julilla. I’ll meet you at the clinic as soon as I can.”

Cassie searched the crowd for Julilla and found her in a daze, hindering more than helping the crew arranging the bodies of the dead along the wall. “Come on,” Cassie said, taking her by her good arm after checking that it wasn’t bloody like the other one. “I’m to take you to the clinic. Galahad’s orders.” When Julilla blinked at her, Cassie repeated herself. “Orders. Come on.”

With a nagging sense that she was abandoning Galahad, betraying him by not staying to help with the dead, Cassie led Julilla into the odd, waiting stillness of the lobby. “How was it out there?” she asked, slowing to match Julilla’s limp.

For several paces, she didn’t answer. Then she twisted her features into a grim smile of satisfaction. “We sent those fuckers to Jesus.”

* * *

It was nearly two hours before Galahad showed up in the clinic, and by that time, Cassie, Doc and Rochelle had finished with the most urgent cases and were tidying up. Cassie wanted Galahad to get his arm looked at right away, but nothing would do but that he first make a tour of the ward. “They were my responsibility,” he said. “And until they’re well, they still are.”

So Cassie took him to visit each of his casualties. One in particular wasn’t likely to make it. “He seems to be in a coma, and Doc thinks he’s got internal bleeding,” Cassie said. “He needs a surgeon.”

Galahad knelt by the injured boy, clasping his hand and murmuring encouragement, even though he was too far gone to hear it. Then he stood up. “And Julilla?”

Whereas many of the casualties were sharing mattresses, Cassie had made sure Julilla had her own. She lay so still and ashen that if it weren’t for the rise and fall of her ribcage, Cassie might’ve thought her dead. “Her ankle is only sprained, but she lost a lot of blood from the cut on her arm. Doc said in a normal world, she would’ve gotten a pint or two, but he’s not set up for that sort of thing.”

“But she’ll be okay, right?” He sat down and rested a hand on her good shoulder. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her. A lot of us wouldn’t.” He gave an ironic smile. “She must’ve been deadly on the basketball court. She can rally a group in full retreat and make them want to fight.”

“She just needs rest,” Cassie said. “And food. And to not get an infection.”

“Three impossible things.” He stood up. “Well, we attempt the impossible every day around here, so what’s new?”

By now, Cassie had noticed that not all the blood on Galahad’s shirt was from battle. Some was oozing from his arm, and now she took a firm tone. “Would it be impossible for you to let Doc look at that arm now? Come on. Before you end up like Julilla.”

“It’s just the old injury,” he said as she took him back to triage. “I had it wrapped up, but I guess I broke it open again.”

Doc was less than pleased at what he found when he removed the leather gauntlet and bloody wrappings. “I told you this would happen. You’re going to have one hell of a scar when this heals.”

“And if I live long enough for that to happen, I’ll be proud to show it off. I might even get it tattooed to make it more interesting.”

While Doc flushed the wound with a mixture of water and iodine, he called to Rochelle. “Bring me the biggest gauge tapered half-curve needle I’ve got. This guy deserves to suffer.”

Rochelle looked up from where she was sterilizing equipment over a propane flame. “You’re not serious, are you? We’re out of everything but the 5.0 suture filament, and you’re supposed to use circular cutting needles on skin lacerations.”

Doc smiled in approval. “You’re getting good at this.”

“As good as you’ll let me, since I’m only allowed to watch.”

Doc motioned Galahad into a chair while he threaded his suturing needle. “I haven’t got any more painkillers. Want a shot of whiskey?”

Galahad shook his head. “I try not to touch that stuff. I’ll be okay.”

“Better let the girls hold your arm, then.” He motioned to Cassie and Rochelle. “Don’t let him move.” To Galahad he added, “I’m at getting better at this.”

“Small blessings.” Galahad accepted a rag to bite down on, and Doc got to work.

* * *

Contrary to custom, breakfast was served in the dining room, and although the meal was generous, Cassie was disappointed to find herself sitting alone. Galahad had been asked to sit with Alex at Mundo’s table, and with Leila dead, Julilla lying in the ward and Doc too busy to eat with the group, Cassie was left to her own devices.

When the meal was over, Mundo had Galahad give a report to the group in which he related the simple statistics of battle: number of casualties, weapons lost, damage inflicted on the enemy. “We think a few got away from us,” he said. “But unless they’ve got another cell somewhere, there aren’t enough left to re-form. There are no more Christian Soldiers.”

This brought cheers, but Cassie noticed Galahad took no pleasure in their victory. And he hadn’t mentioned Paul.

Mundo took the floor again. “As many of you know,” he said, “we had plans to hold a cremation today.” His eyes sought Cassie’s. “But we’ve had an offer from the Thespians to do a joint funeral for all our dead. They can provide a bier, a priest, music and inspirational readings. They’ll have appropriate clothing for anyone who wants it. So unless we have any strong objections, I’d like to appoint a committee to work with the Thespians on the final details.”

Cassie could tell that it was her approval Mundo sought, and she struggled to get her thoughts in order. She hadn’t planned much for today — they would put the bodies in the shuttle, take them to an empty parking lot, speak a few words and set them on fire. The prospect of dealing with the Thespians was daunting, but she was comforted by the idea that she might be able to give her friend a proper send-off. “I support the plan,” she said.

“Me, too,” said Alaina.

Several of the guards nodded their heads, and the matter was put to a vote.

“Cassie,” Mundo said, after the measure had passed unanimously, “I’d like you to head our committee.”

* * *

Cassie stood under the awning of the circular drive with the wind whipping the skirt of her long black theater dress. She wondered if cremation was such a good idea after all. There were a lot of bodies to burn, and the wind might spread sparks and set all of downtown ablaze.

Around her, those who would be attending the funeral milled about, whispering and waiting for the cortege. The Thespians had said they could acquire a horse to pull the bier, and everyone was curious if this was true, since no one had seen a horse in months. Just as a knot of black-clad forms came into view, Cassie felt a hand on the back of her waist.

“You okay?” Galahad asked.

“So far, so good.” She looked at him in his black suit — a near-perfect fit, even though it was a woolen Thespian affair styled for the early nineteenth century, with striped pants, a cutaway coat and a thick cravat. “Thanks for coming. I know you would’ve rather slept.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault.” Cassie looked around. “If anyone should be here, it should be David since she was his girlfriend. Sort of. Bastard.”

“He cared. He’s just not good at showing it.” He gave a small sigh. “Kind of like me.”

He kept his arm around her waist, and Cassie moved closer as they watched the cortege approach. The Thespians made an odd sight, in theatrical gear spanning almost the entirety of human history. There were nuns, a flapper and a black knight, a Mandarin in embroidered silk and a gypsy with flowing scarves and bangles. There were boys in frock coats and girls in hoopskirts that dragged the street, gathering dust and filth. A boy pounded a solemn rhythm on a drum while another in black cape and tights beat time with what looked like a pair of human femurs. Leading the way was a teen in a black cassock, carrying a wooden cross aloft, and behind him marched Elissa in a heavy gown that looked like it came from a production about Mary, Queen of Scots. Strangest of all was the wheeled bier, draped in fluttering black gauze and drawn by two donkeys led by boys wearing giraffe pelts, which were the only spot of color among the costumes.

“Zoo tribe,” Galahad said in answer to Cassie’s wondering look. “Those donkeys must be on loan from the petting zoo.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t eat them,” May said, pushing her way through the crowd to join them. She was dressed soberly today, having spurned her usual bright colors for a simple gray dress.

“Too valuable for other purposes,” Galahad pointed out. “They’re crazy in their own way at the zoo, but that doesn’t mean they’ve got no sense.”

“I just wish they’d buy my jewelry. I’ll miss Leila.” She squeezed Cassie’s hand. “And not just because she was one of my best customers. She was smart, even if she didn’t like to show it.”

Cassie nodded. She just wanted to get this day over with. Must the Thespians move so slowly? Why had she agreed to all this drama?

It felt like hours before the cortege pulled up in front of the hotel. By then, Mundo and Kayleen had joined the group on the curb and they, along with Alex, Cassie and Galahad, went to meet the Thespians. Even though Cassie had agreed in advance to the little ceremony of bowing and pleasantries, the whole thing felt needlessly theatrical, and she hoped she didn’t look foolish as she curtsied before Elissa and spoke the words of welcome she had been coached to say.

While all this was going on, the Regent dead were loaded onto the bier. With a flurry of drum-tapping, the cortege re-formed, now nearly twice as big as before, and they made their way back into the street and resumed their march, keeping time to the dirge-like beat of the drum. Cassie was glad to have Galahad beside her as they made their way through the reeking muck of the streets. Maybe he was just taking pity on her, but she was grateful nonetheless.

The plan was to burn the bodies on a freeway overpass visible from most of the city, thus satisfying the Thespians’ need for dramatic effect. Cassie tried not to trip over her long skirt as they trudged up the entrance ramp, and she felt sorry for the donkeys pulling the heavy cart. Finally, they crested the rise and made their way to where a smaller group of Thespians and Operatics waited, guarding a pile of rubbish and a pair of spotlights she couldn’t immediately see the purpose of.

The bodies were removed from the bier and laid on the gasoline-drenched pyre with such efficiency that Cassie thought perhaps they would get the matter over with quickly after all. But no, it was now time for ceremonies, which included poetry readings, dramatic declamations, a soliloquy from Hamlet and a skit hastily thrown together to commemorate the previous day’s battle. Then the boy in priestly garb took the group through a standard funeral ceremony complete with a solemn intonation of “ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” which Cassie thought appropriate given that if they ever got the fire lit, there would be enough ashes to cover the entire exit ramp. Finally, an Operatic girl sang an aria with a clear sweet voice that would’ve impressed Cassie under better circumstances. When she was finished, a boy stepped forward and played “Taps” on a cornet while Elissa and Mundo exchanged a significant look.

Cassie hadn’t been told anything about this next part of the ceremony, other than that the pyre would be lit. Now Elissa motioned to the boys near the spotlights, and they moved them into position. Sid had been standing at Cassie’s elbow, visibly bored with the proceedings, but as the Thespian light crew aimed the spotlights and unfolded silver panels to catch the sun, he stood up straight. “Are they going to use those how I think they are?” he whispered.

“I have no idea,” Cassie said, although now that the boys had their beams focused, she realized she did in fact know what was happening. The spotlights had been converted into concentrators to focus the sun’s rays.

“Spotlights are Fresnels, aren’t they?” Sid took a few steps forward, entranced. “What a good idea. I–”

“Shut up,” a girl said, shoving him. “And get out of the way so I can see.”

By now, wisps of smoke were rising off the pile of wood, paper and rubble. Sid ignored the girl and made his way to one of the spotlights to talk to the boy operating it. Soon they were deep in conversation about solar rays as the wisps of smoke became flames and then a roaring blaze that roiled across the shrouded bodies.

By now, Cassie was paying no attention to Sid and his new friend working the spotlight. She ignored May, standing nearby and nervously playing with an amulet. She no longer even noticed Galahad, until he went up to the pyre, took something from his pocket and threw it in. The flames blazed white for a moment, then faded back to a dull, angry orange. Cassie tried to read the expression on his face but saw only an impenetrable blankness.

“What was that?” she asked as he resumed his place by her side.

“Something of Paul’s.”

Cassie wanted to press for details, but he cut her off.

“Look,” he said, indicating a spot to his left. “Other side of the guardrail. Outbound lane.”

She looked in the direction indicated and saw the twins in full face makeup, watching the proceedings from afar. “I wonder why they don’t join us. They know they’d be welcome.”

“I guess they figure it’s our deal.”

The twins watched for a little longer, giving Cassie something besides Leila’s burning body to think about. But then a gust of wind blew a cloud of oily black smoke into their midst, and she doubled over choking. By the time the wind shifted and she wiped her watering eyes, the twins were gone.

* * *

The return to the city streets was informal, and as soon as they were in the canyon of office towers, Cassie, Galahad and May detoured to the hotel via a shortcut. They all had business in the clinic, so while May talked to Doc about her experiments with rat pituitary glands, Galahad made the rounds of his casualties and Cassie helped Rochelle check charts, take vitals and administer medication. Nisha, bloated and petulant, was on full bed rest. Zach’s breathing was worse, and he was starting to bleed from his eyes. The battlefield casualty was still unconscious. It would’ve all been too depressing if not for Julilla, who was weak but in good humor.

“You can’t keep me here,” she said. “I know my rights.”

“You’re welcome to make a break for it anytime,” Cassie told her. “But I have it on good authority that no one’s going to pick you up and bring you back if you faint in the stairwell.”

“I would never faint.” She struggled to sit, then blinked a few times, swaying. “I’m seeing two of you.”

“Better lie back down.”

“No shit. One of you is enough.”

“At least I’m not a Christian Soldier.”

“Then I’d have to kill you, no matter how many of you there are.”

They talked quietly for awhile, with Cassie relating the events of the day and Julilla shaking her head. “No way would I have put up with all those boys prancing around in tights making speeches.”

“It wasn’t so bad. I mean, it was overdone and way too long, but it’s just their way of coping, and better than anything I could’ve put together on short notice.”

“No need to be nice. Those Thespians are freaks.” Seeing the look on Cassie’s face, she added, “But not in a bad way. They know some amazing hand-to-hand combat tricks.” Julilla went on to relate a few stories about the previous day’s battle, but Cassie noticed she didn’t mention Paul or any real mayhem, death or destruction.

Suspecting she was getting the Disney version of events, Cassie looked at her hands and sighed.

“Did they tell you how David made Galahad do the deed?”

Cassie looked up.

“He chased the little fucker down and disarmed him, then used him as a shield and dragged him to Galahad. He shoved that boy to his knees while he begged for mercy like the cowardly little shit he was. Then your boyfriend blew his brains out, just like that.”

On the other side of the room, Galahad was tucking a blanket around one of the wounded. The expression on his face was so gentle, Cassie couldn’t reconcile it with that of someone who had shot his own cousin.

“It’s eating at him,” Julilla said.

“He doesn’t show it.”

“What do you want him to do? Cry? I bet there’s a lot of hurt that doesn’t show on your face, either, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel it.”

Now May and Doc were making the rounds, talking quietly. After a brief stop at Zach’s bedside, they went to the unconscious soldier where they stood for a long time, heads together, speaking in such soft tones, it was impossible to understand their words even from a few feet away.

“I wonder what that’s all about.” Cassie said.

“No telling around here,” Julilla said. “You sure you can’t spring me?”

“You can leave anytime you think you won’t pass out.”

Galahad wandered over and reminded Julilla that she was too valuable to the group to take risks with her health. He promised to tie her to the nearest wall post if that’s what it would take to get her to rest. Then he turned to Cassie. Showing nothing in his face or gesture to indicate what was on his mind, he said, “Come with me. I’ve got something I want to show you.”

* * *

Cassie followed him down the hall.

“Try not to make any noise,” he said, opening the stairwell door. “And if we run into anyone, do whatever I do and play along.”

Cassie slipped out of her shoes so she could move more quietly and gathered her cumbersome skirt in one hand. Was she finally going to be allowed in on Galahad’s secret? If she had known she would be going to the upper floors, she would’ve changed into pants after the funeral. Too late now. She started after him, following the beam of his flashlight. They passed the third and fourth floors, where everyone lived, then the fifth and six, where visitors stayed. As they passed the tenth, Cassie felt her thighs burning. She wasn’t used to so much climbing, but Galahad didn’t slow down.

The stairwell ended at the twentieth floor, and Galahad opened the fire door so she could go in front of him. In the play of his flashlight, this floor seemed no different from the ones downstairs except that it wasn’t dingy with use and had a hushed feel of cobwebs and abandonment.

“We’re almost there.” He led her to another stairwell and took a set of keys out of his pocket. “There’s a stairwell that goes directly up without this extra hassle,” he explained. “But I never use it. This way, I’ve got a last chance to make sure no one’s following me.”

Intrigued, Cassie followed him through the door, which locked behind them. They went up two more flights, to another locked door. Galahad fumbled with his keys, pulled open the door and motioned Cassie through. She stepped into a dark, silent space that felt different from the floors below, but in the opaque gloom, she couldn’t immediately say what that difference was. She paused, waiting while Galahad locked the door behind them and came to her side. He pressed the flashlight into her hand. “Go ahead. Look around.”

Hesitantly, she shone the beam in an arc, illuminating an oak-paneled room with inlaid marble floor, Persian rugs and a marble fireplace. Paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, and sofas, plush chairs and small tables were artfully arranged for relaxation and conversation.

“Presidential Suite,” Galahad said. “As far as I know, I’ve got the only key. And there’s more.”

He led her through the rooms, showing her the dining room with its crystal chandelier and the private kitchen full of gleaming appliances of brushed steel. He rushed her past the two bedrooms with their four-poster beds and feather pillows, taking her instead to a dark-paneled room lined with bookshelves full of leather-bound volumes. This room looked like it had been used recently. Books, papers, pens and an empty teacup competed for space on the burled desk under the window, and books were left open on the small table between the leather sofa and overstuffed chair.

“It’s beautiful,” Cassie said in wonderment. She looked around while Galahad turned on a couple of battery-powered lanterns. “I had no idea there was anyplace like this here. Or anywhere, any more.”

“That’s why I come here.” He switched off his flashlight and set it aside. “I like to think I’m a civilized person. Down there, we have to act like barbarians to stay alive. But up here, I can pretend that I have the luxury of being a decent human being.”

Cassie sensed he was telling her something significant and that it held the key to the mysteries of his behavior. But she couldn’t think clearly with him standing over her like this with the lanterns casting shadows on the planes of his face and illuminating his eyes like stars. She hoped being civilized included kissing, and a lot more.

Mistaking the reason for her silence, Galahad gestured toward the bookcases. “I’ve been trying to read the classics our civilization was supposedly built on. I used to think if I could understand our origins, I could help get us back on track again. But these books as full of barbarism as our own damn lobby.”

He pulled her to the nearest bookcase. “Look here. The Iliad. Can’t talk about Western civilization without Homer, right? But the whole plot of the book is about a soldier who won’t fight because someone stole his girl. And the girl who was stolen had no say in the matter; she was a sex slave, spoils of war. Did we really base our civilization on people who thought it was okay to treat women like that?”

“Some guys still do now,” Cassie pointed out. “Even before the Telo.”

“And then there’s Plato. Have you ever tried to read The Republic? It’s just a bunch of people talking without ever taking action.”

“Sounds like our pre-Telo politicians.”

“And finally, there’s the Bible. Unpunished incest, unpunished murder, but God will hate if you eat a clam.”

“Okay,” Cassie said, frowning. “So you’re saying the past is no help to us?”

Galahad took her hand. “It is. Just not in the way I thought it would be. I started reading these books to find out how to be civilized, but what I’m starting to think is that the only thing that makes us civilized is prosperity.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You wanted to be a conservationist, right? You were into eco things, save the animals and all that.”

“I was a vegetarian, too, except when my mom cooked salmon.”

“But you eat anything you can get now. Even pets.”

“What am I supposed to do? Starve?”

“You’re starving anyway.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the bones jutting out from her wrist. “Come on. I’ve got something for you.”

As he led her to the kitchen, he continued talking. “You lowered your standards because those standards were luxuries. Only people who are rich in food can say what they will and will not eat. Only those whose lives aren’t in danger can be principled about whether it’s wrong to steal or kill. Our ancestors did bad things because it was the only way to survive long enough to bring a more civilized generation into existence. And now that it’s fallen apart, we’re back at square one.”

“So are we bad or good?”

Galahad rummaged through a cabinet. “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s much difference between the two. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Feeling silly, Cassie did as instructed and felt him place something smooth and heavy in her cupped palms. Her heart raced at the possibilities. Was there really food in this place?

“You can look now.”

Cassie opened her eyes and blinked back sudden tears. It was a box of chocolate.

* * *

She could barely restrain herself from devouring the chocolate while Galahad made tea over a soda can stove on the balcony. She sat in a patio chair with the box in her lap and told herself that the chocolate wasn’t going anywhere, it was really all hers, and she was not going to make a fool of herself by inhaling it. Galahad admired civilized people, and she would act like one, even though her mouth already watered with anticipation. She tried to focus her attention on the colorful light sticks Galahad had hung from a wire along the balcony railing. In the cool of the night, the reds, greens and yellows made her think of Christmas, and when Galahad handed her a cup of tea and settled into a chair beside her, she thought it must be a holiday of some sort, and if it wasn’t, she would declare it so.

“Aren’t you going to eat your chocolate?”

“I was waiting for you, so we could share. I’m not a barbarian.”

“That’s what I like about you. You could go around dirty, eat the potatoes instead of plant them, steal Doc’s medicines and sell them for food. Hell, you could sell yourself for food. Plenty of girls do, and some of the boys do, too. But every day, you try to make things a little more civilized around this place.”

“I’m not as good as you think,” she said, fumbling with the ribbon on the foil box. “I could do better.”

“So could all of us. But when you have a bad day, you pick yourself up and try again. You refuse to let the Telo win. And that’s why I love you.”

Cassie had popped a chocolate into her mouth, and now she turned to him, wondering if she had heard him right.

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at showing it,” he said, in answer to her quizzical look. “It’s just–” He stood and leaned on the balcony railing, looking over the dark city. “I’ll be nineteen this fall. You deserve better than a guy who’ll be dead in a few months.”

Cassie shoved another chocolate into her mouth, embarrassed that at this critical moment, she could care about something like food. She went to stand beside him. “Any of us could die, anytime.”

“A guy should be able to promise forever to the girl he loves.”

“Forever isn’t our reality.”

“I know.” He rested his forehead on his clasped hands, refusing to look at her.

“So that’s it? Do you think this is the Iliad, and a girl has no right to choose for herself?”

Galahad straightened and looked at her through narrowed eyes.

“It’s my choice to love you, not yours. Even if you die half an hour from now, the time spent with you will have been worth it.”

He took her hand, twining his fingers through hers. “You really mean that?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

He folded her in his arms and kissed her, slowly backing her against the patio railing. Cassie returned his kisses hungrily, forgetting about the chocolate as she lost herself in the sensuous heat of his mouth on hers. She felt him unclasp the hooks of her bodice, then the slow track of his fingers across her flesh. With the fire of all her desires burning in her mind, she pulled away. “Take me to bed.”

“Don’t you want to think about it first?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I don’t want to think any more.”

He took her by the hand and led her inside to a bedroom, where she felt suddenly awkward and was glad her heavy theater dress was designed to come off quickly. More puzzling were the buttons and clasps of his shirt and costume pants, especially with him watching as she fumbled to undress him. She didn’t know what she was doing, but surely he wouldn’t hold that against her. Or was it her too-thin body that was distracting him? He knew she was starving. Why was he looking at her like that?

“Is this your first time?”

Cassie jerked away, glad the room was dim and he couldn’t see the embarrassment flushing her face. She had done something wrong and ruined everything. She threw herself onto the bed. “I didn’t know it would be a problem,” she said sullenly.

He unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and dropped it on the floor. “That’s not what I meant.” He joined her on the bed and kissed her. “I just don’t want to hurt you if it is. I want you to enjoy it.”

For a moment, Cassie could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t sound trite. Of course it would hurt. Her friends had told her it would. But when you loved a boy, it didn’t matter if it hurt the first time, since how could there be a second time without a first? No matter what his past experiences might be, he was nervous, just like she was, and she felt a sudden urge to protect him. She kissed him, reaching for the waistband of his pants. “Don’t talk. Unless it’s to tell me how to get these crazy theater pants off you.”

* * *

Cassie lay spooned in the hollow of Galahad’s body, not dissatisfied but puzzled as to why people made such a fuss about sex. She didn’t feel any different, other than a certain wonderment that she had been able to give him so much pleasure.

Galahad nuzzled her neck and ran a hand up her thigh. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you bleeding?”

“It’s not your fault. It’s biology.”

He wadded a corner of the sheet and pressed it between her legs. “Seems like a design flaw that the female body should work like that.”

“I just feel bad we stained the sheets.”

“We’ll use the bed in the other room next time.”

She nestled deeper into the curve of his body. “So there will be a next time? You’re not going to be all weird with me in the morning, ignoring me like you did those other times?”

“I’ll never treat you that way again.” His arms tightened around her. “You were right. We both know the score.”

“You might outlive me,” Cassie reminded him. “Alex is almost twenty and seems fine, but Zach is dying and he’s only seventeen. And then there’s all that weird stuff going on with the growth hormone research. Someone knew something at the end. Maybe there’s a cure and we’ll find it.”

“I hope so. But it’s probably best if we live like there isn’t. That way, we won’t get complacent.”

“Either way, I want to know what’s going on. Don’t you?”

Galahad sat up and stretched. “I know I want to see you eat the rest of that chocolate. Then I want to sleep all day holding you.”

She had forgotten about the chocolate, left out on the balcony. And how long had it been since either of them had slept? “You think they’ll miss us if we stay up here all day?”

“We’ll just sleep for a little while. And when we go back downstairs, I’ll help you get your things and you can move into my room.”

Happiness surged through her, and the last of her doubts vanished. “So I really am your girlfriend?”

“Oh, hell, Cassie. If there was a priest, minister, judge or rabbi left on this planet, I’d ask you to be my wife.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

I’ve moved into Galahad’s room. Or I guess I should say Jay’s room, since he asked me to call him by his real name. I think I’ll keep calling him Galahad in public, though, since using his real name in private makes me feel special.

We slept half the day, but everyone was so tired from the fight, the funeral and everything else that only Doc, Rochelle and David seem to have missed us. No one knows where we were, but I feel like everyone knows what we were up to. It’s enough to make me wonder if it’s written on my face that I’m no longer a virgin. But the more likely clue is the way I can’t keep my hands off him. I’m acting very silly, and what’s worse is I don’t care. The whole day has been wrapped in a golden fog that blurs the edges of things and makes me love everyone.

Craziest of all is the way I need to touch everything Jay has touched. If he drinks out of a glass, I want to drink from the same glass. If he eats off a plate, I want to taste his food off that same plate, using his fork. I touch the doorknobs he has touched, I rest my head on his pillow after he has gotten out of bed, and I swear I would wear his clothes if only they fit.

It seems horrible to be so happy with Leila’s ashes scattered across the overpass, but I can’t help myself. I think she would’ve wanted this for me. She, more than I, believed we should love while we can.

And so I’ll continue drinking out of Jay’s cups and singing to myself as I go about my chores. Later tonight, we’ll go back to our private penthouse and make love. I want him irrationally, even though I’m too sore to enjoy it like I should. A little pain is nothing compared to the pleasure of having him for my own. I want to eat him like a box of chocolate and draw him into every cell of my body like a virus. Then he would be with me always. Sort of like the Telo.

Chapter Sixteen

Cassie strolled into the clinic humming softly. Doc had asked her to cover while he and Rochelle worked on a mysterious project. Cassie was late, but what could they do about it? Fire her? She giggled at the silly notion and allowed her thoughts to drift back to the previous night. She and Jay had filled the penthouse Jacuzzi, tossed in some light sticks and frolicked in the glowing water. Then they tested the merits of the feather bed in the other bedroom and afterwards licked strawberry preserves off silver spoons and each other, requiring a return trip to the Jacuzzi to wash off the sticky mess. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve these stolen moments of decadence, but for the first time since the pandemic, she laughed with the same happy abandon that she used to.

Julilla’s scowl as she entered the ward brought her cheerful humming to a stop.

“Where have you been?” Julilla had been taking a boy’s temperature, and now she got to her feet. “I told them I could cover for a few minutes, but I only know sports medicine, not this rash and fever crap.”

Cassie glanced at the boy, who lay covered in a faint bloom of pink. “I’m sorry. They didn’t say I had to be on time. Something came up.”

“Something of Galahad’s, I bet.” She handed over the thermometer and a stethoscope. “Chicks in love are all alike. No sense of responsibility.”

Cassie pouted. Why was Julilla ruining her beautiful day? “Well, I’m here now, so what’s the big deal? It’s not like anyone ever knows what time it really is. We just guess. I guessed wrong. Sue me.”

“I might, if there were any lawyers left,” Julilla said as she made her way back to bed. “I’ve probably set my recovery back by days.”

“Anyone as grouchy as you can’t be too bad off.” Cassie scanned the room, wondering how many patients Julilla had examined and where she should begin her rounds. An empty mattress caught her eye, and she froze. The wounded soldier was gone. No wonder Julilla was in a bad mood. “He didn’t make it, did he?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Cassie gave her a quizzical look. Julilla’s slight shake of the head and gesture toward the next room filled her with dread, but she went to the door and opened it a crack, just enough to peek inside.

The soldier lay strapped onto the improvised operating table, his body pale as new wax and a tube hanging out of a vein, dripping blood into an empty gasoline canister on the floor. Doc stood at his head, his arms red to the elbows and dotted with flecks of white, while May hovered at his shoulder, pointing to things in the sawed-open cranium. “You’ll need to cut the corpus callosum. It’s that thing in the middle like a rubber band, see?”

At another table, Rochelle was doing something with lab equipment that could only have come from May’s shop because the hotel had never had Bunsen burners and test tubes before. When she saw Cassie in the doorway, she turned almost as white as the dead soldier. “Mundo said it was okay.”

Doc and May looked up. “It’s authorized,” Doc said in a tone that barely carried across the room. “But don’t say anything. Just mind the patients and try to keep people out of here.”

Cassie shut the door. Lightheaded and weak in the knees, she went to sit on the edge of Julilla’s mattress. “What the hell? It’s like Frankenstein in there.”

“Not a bad way of describing it.” Julilla motioned Cassie closer and lowered her voice. “They decided that since that kid wouldn’t likely wake up, they would take the gland in his brain and see if the hormone from it will help Zach.”

Cassie shuddered. It was a good idea, but something felt wrong about it, too.

“Damn fucking unethical, if you ask me. That boy wasn’t dead and might’ve even been awake, just unable to move or communicate. It happens, you know.” Julilla rose onto one elbow, beat up her pillow and lay back down. “They killed that boy so Miss China could play mad scientist with his brain.”

“No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have done it if they thought he would’ve gotten better. But Zach will die for sure without a cure, and if the growth hormone can help. . .”

“Right. It helps. It doesn’t cure. People talk about these things around me, thinking I’m just a dumb ex-jock who doesn’t understand anything that doesn’t involve a ball. But they’re wrong. They killed a brave fighter for his brain chemicals.”

“Maybe he would’ve wanted it that way,” Cassie said weakly. “Maybe he was an organ donor or something.”

“Give me a fucking break.” Julilla rolled over and drew the sheet to her chin. “Go away, eco-girl. I thought you had principles, but I guess not.”

Chastened and thoughtful, Cassie began making the rounds, checking charts and vitals. She tried to concentrate, but every time her mind returned to the gory scene in the next room, her stomach churned and a wave of doubt washed over her. They were really no better than the Obits if they were going to kill people for their pituitary glands. But was it so wrong to kill someone who wasn’t likely to live, anyway? Because of him, Zach might live a little longer, and they would have some of their questions answered.

She spent some extra time with Zach. His eyes were great bleeding pits, and his breath came in heaving rasps that echoed with rattling mucus. Blue splotches were appearing beneath his skin, spreading like stains as his blood vessels broke. Cassie knew that on the inside, his organs were bleeding, slowly liquefying inside his skin. What compassionate person wouldn’t try to save him, if the only cost was that of a boy who was already dead in every way that mattered?

She was still at his side when May came out of the next room with a syringe in her hand. While she searched for a usable vein, Cassie went to see if she could help Doc clean up. To her relief, she found the soldier’s body already shrouded in an old curtain. She wouldn’t have to look at that poor boy’s brain, at least. But there was an equally repulsive matter to deal with — Rochelle was on her knees, puking into a plastic bucket.

“It didn’t seem to bother her until it was all over,” Doc said.

Rochelle gave a final heave that brought up a little clear fluid, then lay on the floor, pale and sweating.

“I felt the same way when I cut into his cranium with the bone saw,” Doc went on, “But–”

Rochelle whimpered, and her lips turned white.

“Maybe you can tell me about it later,” Cassie said. She squatted beside the girl and took her hand. “Think you can walk, honey? Let’s take you to the ward so you won’t have to lie on the floor.”

Together, she and Doc dragged Rochelle into the next room where they settled her on a mattress. After a few minutes, May came over. “What happened? Did all the blood and brain matter finally get to her?”

Rochelle rolled over and would’ve vomited into her pillow, had there been anything left in her stomach.

Cassie silently cursed Doc and May for their lack of sensitivity. “Let her rest. She’ll be fine in a few minutes.” She headed back to the operating room, motioning for them to follow. “So you really think this will work?”

“We should know within twenty-four hours,” May said.

May and Doc kept up an excited chatter about the events of the morning as they cleaned up. For her part, Cassie kept her head down, focusing on the work in front of her and trying to ignore their conversation, lest she be as sick as Rochelle.

“Want to put any of this stuff into compost?” Doc asked.

No way was she going to eat a potato composted with blood and brains. “No, thanks.”

They had put everything away and were wiping things down with bleach when Alaina rushed in. “You may want to hide,” she blurted. “Pharms are here.”

* * *

May and Cassie scooped up what they could of the lab equipment and hurried into the nearest stairwell. They had no flashlights, so they counted the stairs under their breath, the claustrophobia of darkness pressing in as they climbed higher and higher. Finally, Cassie tested a door, and they stumbled into the dim hallway of the seventeenth floor. “This should be good enough,” she said. They selected a room, and while May settled in, Cassie started back down.

Far below, she could hear the sounds of fire doors opening and slamming, of running feet, terse instructions and panicked protests. The Pharms weren’t taking over, were they? She hesitated on the eighth floor landing, unsure if she should continue down and risk capture.

Finally, the stairwell was quiet again, and she made her way to see if Doc needed help. If the Pharms were after the laptop or information about the growth hormone research, all the evidence they needed was in that clinic.

She bypassed the direct entrance to the ward and peeked in the door of the waiting room instead. No one. But as she took a cautious step inside, she heard rough, unfamiliar voices in the next room. She could hear the measured tones of Doc’s replies and the occasional snarled retort from Julilla. Great. Alex must not have sent anyone to help, if weak and unarmed Julilla was Doc’s only protection.

But what could Cassie do? She wasn’t sure how many Pharms were in there, with what weapons or under the influence of what kinds of drugs. She was alone, unarmed and not trained for such a situation as this. She had to do something, though, and just as she was thinking she would slip away and get one of Alex’s people, her eyes lit on a towel-draped bucket — the waste from the operation and Rochelle’s bout of vomiting. Fighting her revulsion, Cassie dumped the can of blood into the bucket Rochelle had vomited in and added some brain matter for good measure.

With the reeking bucket in her arms, she kicked the door to the next room loud enough to be heard, but not so loud as to startle. From the other side, there was a pause, then an order. Then Doc cautiously opened the door.

“How many?” she whispered.

Doc mouthed the word “two.” He recognized the bucket, and his eyes widened as he guessed its purpose. He moved back so she could enter.

Cassie affected a polite and efficient air as she sized up the two Pharms with their greasy hair and filthy lab coats. They had the malnourished complexion of addicts, and they turned dilated eyes upon her. “I heard you were looking for this,” Cassie said.

They stared at the bucket, uncomprehending.

Cassie moved closer, trying to time her move for maximum effect. “This isn’t all. But there’s more if you want it.”

“We want the laptop,” one of them said, taking a step toward her. “So unless you’ve been keeping it in a plastic bucket–”

With a silent prayer for accuracy, Cassie heaved the bucket, sending blood, gore and vomit raining down on the two Pharms. As the two young men screamed, Doc and Julilla dragged Cassie into the ward and shoved a desk against the door.

“That won’t hold them long,” Julilla said. “We need backup. Fast.”

“Is this a takeover?” Doc asked.

Cassie didn’t know, but she had to get away. Her nostrils refused to let go the reek of vomit, and it was choking her. She needed fresh air, no matter what the danger. “I’ll get help. You okay for a few?”

Julilla took a scalpel from her pocket. “Armed and dangerous.”

From her mattress in the corner, Rochelle got to her feet. Clearly, whatever was wrong with her was more than just disgust at the morning’s surgery. She took a few wobbly steps toward them. “I can help.”

“Right,” Julilla said. “If they come in here, you can puke on their shoes.” She turned back to Cassie. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

* * *

The halls were quiet now. Cassie made her way to the spiral staircase and started down, keeping a wary eye out for Pharms. When she reached the ground floor, she found the lobby empty, without the usual gaggle of sullen children.

Conference Suite A seemed the most logical place to go, so Cassie crossed the lobby and headed down the hall where she found a knot of armed teens in fatigues, white coats and Kevorkian-style eye makeup standing around the door to the conference room. Two Regents guards were also in the mix, and they nodded at Cassie in recognition.

“What’s going on?” she said.

“It’s just a parley,” one of the Regents said. “Everything’s cool.”

Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “Everything is not cool.” She turned to one of the Pharms, lifting her chin and hoping she didn’t sound scared. “Two of your people were harassing our doctor and a patient in the clinic.”

“They’re on orders to do a search.”

“They were making threats.”

He shrugged. “They might’ve gotten carried away.”

“This is ridiculous.” Seeing that no one was inclined to stop her, she pushed her way through the door, startling a motley group that included Mundo, Alex and several Pharms.

Mundo glowered at her from the head of the table. “This is a private meeting, Cassie. Go about your usual business. The Pharms aren’t here to bother anyone.”

“Well, someone needs to tell that to the two in the clinic.”

Mundo turned to a long-haired teen in leather pants and a duster. “Did you send your people to harass my doctor?”

The Pharm leader gave an arrogant jerk of his head. “I told them to make some inquiries.”

“They were doing more than that,” Cassie informed him.

“I’m sure you’re overreacting. Your people probably provoked them.” At Cassie’s disbelieving stare, he added, “I’ll send someone to check it out.”

“No,” Mundo said. He looked at Alex. “I want you to check it out personally.”

“I’d rather not get drawn out of the meeting at this point.”

“So check it out fast.”

With an annoyed glance at Cassie, Alex stomped out the door.

“Anything else?” Mundo asked.

Cassie looked around. “No, that was it.”

“Good. Shut the door behind you as you leave.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

The Pharms came nosing around today. They said they only wanted to know why we wiped out the Christian Soldiers, but no one believed them. The Christian Soldiers didn’t believe in taking any kind of drugs, medicinal or otherwise, so as far as the Pharms were concerned, they were just a bunch of useless troublemakers whose only saving grace was that they kept some of the smaller groups on their side of town in line.

What the Pharms were really after was Dr. Brody’s laptop and any information we might have about what’s on it. I don’t think they knew for sure we had it, otherwise they probably would’ve done a full-out invasion. But they asked a lot of questions about why May and the twins had been coming around so often. May will have to be more careful, and many of us are worried about her. The twins, of course, can take care of themselves.

Rochelle is sick. At first, we thought she was reacting to the disgusting operation they did on the comatose guard. Instead, it appears she has food poisoning. Since no one else has it, I questioned her when she was feeling a little better. She didn’t want to tell me at first, but finally she confessed that she got the rotten food from Eleven. She didn’t know it was bad, of course, and he told her all he wanted in return was a kiss. Once he had her alone, he demanded a whole lot more.

I’m furious that Eleven took advantage of her, and I was all set to go downstairs and tell Mundo, since apparently this isn’t the first time he’s done this to one of the girls. But Rochelle made me promise not to tell. She feels stupid and doesn’t want Doc to know.

Honestly, I don’t think anyone around here would really care if they knew, except to maybe take Eleven off storage duty. If a girl sells herself for extra food, people nod their heads in sympathy. They’re all either doing the same thing or have seen too much of it to be upset any more. Even I’m not as outraged as I would’ve been not very long ago. I think I’m more sad for her than anything else.

So it was a dramatic day with a lot going on. Jay missed most of it, out foraging. He, David and the others heard rumors while they were out and hurried back just as the Pharms were piling into their police cruisers to go back to whichever of their many headquarters they came from. David was disappointed he missed all the action, but Jay was just glad I was okay.

Dammit! Sasha just came by. Nisha’s water broke, and Doc needs help. It just figures it would happen while Rochelle is sick. What the hell? I don’t know how to deliver a baby! I guess I’m about to find out. I hope it’s not completely disgusting and that I’m not as incompetent as I feel.

Chapter Seventeen

Cassie bathed the squalling infant in a basin, willing herself not to think about the blood and strangely colored waxy bits she washed off him. She tried not to get the tied-off stump of cord wet, but didn’t succeed. Well, unless someone had a secret stash of milk or formula or could forage some in a hurry, it didn’t matter if the stump got infected. Still, it might be wise to cauterize it, if only so no one could accuse them later of not having made every effort.

She wrapped the baby in a towel and held him close, wishing he would quit crying. “Should I take him to Mundo?”

Doc had been staring at the body, but now he looked up, devastation etched in the narrow contours of his face. “I did the best I could.”

Cassie suppressed a sigh. They had been over this several times already. “No one in their right mind would think you should’ve been able to save her. You didn’t have the right meds and equipment to deal with seizures, not to mention you’ve never been to medical school.”

Doc bowed his head again. “It won’t matter to Mundo.”

Cassie gently bounced the baby, hoping the motion would soothe him. The poor thing was hungry, but what could she do about it? “He has to find out sometime. And you were able to save the baby.”

“So he can die without a mother to feed him.”

“Stop it. Go hide in one of the upstairs rooms for a day or two if you think it will be that bad.”

As she made to leave the clinic, Rochelle came up to her, still pale and wobbly. She begged to see the baby and smiled at its pudgy face. “He’s sweet. I wonder what Mundo will name him?”

“I sort of hope he doesn’t.” Cassie nestled the baby against her chest. “He’s going to die, so it’s best not to get attached.”

Rochelle frowned in consternation. “There has to be a way to get food for him. Your boyfriend can do it, can’t he?”

The look in her eyes was so earnest that Cassie didn’t have the heart to remind her that while Galahad might be a good forager, that didn’t mean he could conjure infant formula out of the air. “I’m sure he’ll do everything he can. Now lie down and rest. You need to be well in case we find a way to feed him. You said you wanted to be his nurse, remember?”

Galahad was waiting for Cassie outside the clinic door, but oddly, Mundo was not. “He’s already celebrating with his buddies in the conference suite,” Galahad said. He leaned in to get a better look at the baby. “Boy or girl?”

“Boy. He seems okay. I mean, he’s got the right number of toes and all that, but–” She adjusted the towel the baby was wrapped in. “We lost Nisha.”

Galahad’s silence lasted so long that Cassie started walking toward the stairs, thinking he had nothing to say about the matter. After a moment, he caught up. “So it doesn’t look good for the kid, does it?”

Cassie shook her head, glad he understood the ramifications without a lengthy explanation of what was required to feed an infant and why they weren’t likely to find it in the devastated city.

They went down the spiral staircase in thoughtful silence. A group of children waited below and rushed them, curious to see the new arrival, but Galahad took Cassie by the elbow and steered her clear. “I’ll make sure no one gives you a hard time.”

“He better not blame Doc, is all I have to say. He did everything he could. We both did.”

“No one will doubt that.” His gaze returned to the baby. “So what kind of milk can babies drink?” At her puzzled expression, he added, “I was thinking of the Zoo Tribe. We’re not real friendly with them, but they’re tight with the Thespians, and maybe they still have those petting zoo goats.”

“I suppose goat milk would be better than nothing. But do you think we can get some every day?”

“I was thinking of getting the whole goat, not just the milk.”

“That would be expensive.”

“Mundo has an emergency stash of trade goods.” By now, the guards outside Conference Suite A had spotted them and hurried forward, abandoning their posts to see the baby. Galahad slipped an arm around Cassie’s waist. “Just stick to the facts. I’ll bring up the goats, first chance I get. Then we’ll see how much Mundo really cares about his kid.”

Cassie tightened her grip on the child and barely had time to nod in reply before they were surrounded and the questions began.

* * *

The emergency barter cost them dearly, but by nightfall, they had their goat, and they made a home for it in the concierge office. Starting the next morning, there would be new chores on the rotation chart — mucking the concierge office and pulling weeds from vacant lots to feed the goat. But for now, a more urgent question loomed. How to milk it?

“You didn’t ask?” Alaina said, resting a hand on her hip and staring at the udders.

Galahad had the decency to look embarrassed, but David snapped, “You don’t like the deals we make, go make some yourself.”

“We did it third-party,” Galahad explained. “We had the Thespians do the negotiations without telling the Zoo Tribe it was for us. The deal almost didn’t go through. By the time it was over, we weren’t even thinking about how to milk it. We just wanted to get it back here before anyone reconsidered or stole it.”

Cassie sighed. “Looks like a visit to the Librarians is in order.”

“And in the meantime,” Alaina said, “someone’s got to figure out how to get the milk out of this animal so we can stop that baby from screaming.”

“Well, I’m game,” Cassie said. “How hard can it be?”

With Galahad holding the halter so the goat wouldn’t bolt, Cassie knelt beside the little animal and reached for a teat. They were strange-looking and furry, not at all like she had imagined they would be, and as soon as she touched one, the goat skittered away.

“Looks like someone needs to hold her tail, too,” Galahad said.

No one stepped forward to carry out this suggestion, and Cassie tried again. This time, she managed to get a teat, but when she squeezed it, nothing happened. She tried pulling, but the nanny brayed and made a nervous motion with its feet.

“Maybe we should bring the baby down here and have it suck the milk directly from the goat,” someone suggested.

“That would be gross,” someone else said.

A boy pushed his way through the group. “Let me try. I saw them do it on ‘Lifestyle Swap’ once.

“You can’t learn to milk a goat by watching reality television,” Cassie said. Nevertheless, she stepped aside so he could take a stab at it. Unfortunately, he did no better.

Two girls tried after that, then a boy and then even Galahad, much to David’s amusement. Finally, Sid came around a corner, having abandoned his radio to see what all the fuss was about. After watching the situation in silence, he approached the goat, rubbed its muzzle and examined its eyes. Then, with a grim set to his mouth, he settled the plastic bucket in place and went to work, soon producing almost a liter of fresh, foaming milk.

When he was done, he stood and wiped his hands on his pants. “We were poor back home in India.” His eyes scanned the group, defying comment. “I’ll do this for you three more times. Decide among yourselves who’s going meet me here to learn, because after that, you’re on your own.”

* * *

Later that night as she lay in Galahad’s arms, Cassie said, “So what did you trade for the goat? I mean the truth, not what you said down there.”

“I already told you.” With his finger, he traced a path on her bare stomach. “Mundo had a stash of trade goods he was keeping for emergencies. Liquor, cigarettes, guns . . . stuff like that.”

“So you really didn’t steal it?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because that goat might produce enough milk for all the children, not just the baby. If we could’ve gotten something that useful before, why didn’t we?”

“Motivation. And the current state of our alliances.”

“Then how come David said you stole it?”

Galahad stopped moving his hand across her skin. “David says too many things.”

“But is it true?”

Galahad rolled onto his back. “It didn’t come off as easy as I made it sound. I didn’t want to bore anyone with the details.”

“So you did steal it.”

“Not exactly. Let’s just say it wasn’t one of our cleaner trades.”

Cassie pulled a pillow toward her and clutched it to her chest. “For someone who claims to be so interested in civilization, you sure get yourself into unethical situations.”

“I know. But I hated to think of that poor kid dying and me not doing everything I could to help. Sometimes you have to do wrong to do right.” He plucked the pillow from her arms and pulled her close. “You looked sweet holding that baby, by the way.”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not. I already hate thinking how I’ll be leaving you alone when I die. I wouldn’t want to leave you with a kid, too.” He shifted position. “That’s why I worry maybe we shouldn’t keep doing this.”

Cassie pulled away and sat up. This wasn’t some noble-sounding excuse to reject her, was it? “I’ve been amenorrhic for months,” she said, feeling herself blush even though she wasn’t particularly embarrassed that she no longer got her period. She held out her bony wrists for his inspection. “I’m too thin. The body shuts down reproduction when a person is starving.”

“So you’re saying I don’t need to forage condoms?”

“Not unless I gain a little weight.”

“Well, that’ll be soon if I can help it. Wait here.”

Cassie lay back among the covers while Galahad padded into the kitchen. After a few minutes, he returned and her eyes widened in wonderment at the box in his hands. “Cocoa Puffs?”

“It was a good foraging day. It wasn’t easy to sneak this away, though.”

Cassie took the box reverently and broke open the inner bag. The cereal was stale, but tasted delicious. “Too bad we don’t have a little of that goat milk. We could pretend it’s a pre-Telo Saturday morning.”

“All we’d need is cartoons.”

She dug her hand back into the box. “This whole place is a cartoon. Just not a very funny one.”

They spent a pleasant half hour talking, eating slowly to make the treat last longer. At one point, Galahad made Cassie lie on her back so he could place Cocoa Puffs on her breasts and naked belly and eat them off one by one. The one he lodged in her navel proved particularly troublesome, and Cassie giggled at his efforts with tongue and teeth. “You really are crazy, you know that?”

He gave up on the piece of cereal. “If I am, it’s because no one wins against time and Telo.”

“Don’t talk serious. This is the one place I can forget for awhile.”

“Of course, angel.” He kissed her casually at first, then with greater passion before settling himself between her thighs and making love to her with a needy urgency that surprised them both. Afterwards, he held her so tightly that had Cassie not been so exhausted from the events of the day, she could’ve never slept. Instead, she dozed off immediately, dreaming of chocolate-flavored cereal.

Chapter Eighteen

Cassie tapped on the door of Doc’s room. “Open up. I can do this all day, you know.”

“Suit yourself,” came the muffled voice from inside.

“We need you in the clinic.”

“You can handle it without me.”

“Not if I’m standing here waiting for you to open this door.”

There was a sound of things being moved around, then of the interior lock being swung back. The door opened a few inches and Doc peeked out, pale and rumpled, with red, puffy eyes. “Satisfied? Now go the fuck away.”

He started to close the door, but Cassie wedged a booted foot in the crack. “Stop this craziness. No one is mad at you. We want you to come back.”

“No.”

“You can’t walk away from your responsibilities just because you couldn’t save Nisha. You weren’t able to save the guy in a coma, either.”

“That was different. He was brought in that way.” He stepped back and let Cassie into the room. “I had months to figure out what to do with Nisha. I read up on eclampsia and seizures, but–”

Cassie waved a hand in annoyance. “You didn’t have the tools to do the job. Move on. The baby needs you. Rochelle is overwhelmed, and I can’t spend all day at the clinic. I have gardens to oversee, and I have to go the library and get a book about goats.”

“Goats?” Doc frowned in confusion.

“We traded for one so we could have milk for the baby.”

“And he’s drinking it?”

“So far.”

Doc sat on the edge of the unmade bed, his eyebrows drawing together in thought.

“Come back. It’s really okay.” Cassie ran a hand through her hair. What would entice him? “Zach is better.” At the flicker of interest in his eyes, she went on. “He’s sitting up now and able to eat a little. We gave him some cereal the guys foraged, mushed up in goat milk.”

“So the growth hormone does work.”

“Come see for yourself. The Pharms have May under surveillance so she can’t come, and you’re the only other one who knows what to look for.”

The excitement in Doc’s eyes dimmed. “You can take notes as well as I can.”

“No. I’ve got too much else to do.” She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled. “Quit hiding or people really will think you did something wrong.” She looked into his eyes. “Please? You called me your friend the other day. Would a friend lie to you?” While he considered this, she drew a plastic bag from a pocket. “I brought you this, since I figured you might be hungry.”

“Froot Loops?”

“Galahad and David had a good foraging day.”

Doc scooped the cereal into his mouth. “Okay,” he said. “Let me get cleaned up.”

* * *

Doc examined the baby in perfunctory fashion while Rochelle rattled off feeding times, how much he ate, how often he slept and what the contents of his diapers looked like. She had taken over the nursery Nisha created and was working the baby books with gusto. If Doc was impressed by her maternal instincts, he gave no sign and instead just seemed glad he didn’t have to deal with the matter.

Zach was who he really cared about, and he spent a long time reading Cassie’s notes and checking vital signs. “This is amazing,” he said. “It’s like the whole process went into reverse.”

“Didn’t you think that’s how it would work?” Cassie said.

“I actually thought it would produce stasis — no change — if it did anything at all. Instead, it looks like the hormone masks whatever signal the virus gets from the telomeres, giving the body’s immune system a chance to fight back.”

“And it’s been one heck of a fight,” Zach said through lips that were still cracked and oozing. “I was expecting to see angels next time I opened my eyes. Either that or the devil.”

“Oh, you’re in hell. Trust me on that one.” Doc picked up Zach’s wrist so he could check his pulse.

“So how long before I’m up and around?” Zach examined the bruises on his free arm, then wiped a bit of blood away from his nose. “I have a feeling I still look a little scary.”

Doc let go of Zach’s wrist and made some notes on his chart. “You’ll need awhile to heal completely. Your body’s priorities are on the inside first, then the outside. According to your chart, there’s still blood in your urine, indicating you’ve got problems with your kidneys. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

“But I’ll get there, right?”

Doc hesitated and glanced at Cassie before speaking. “This treatment is experimental. We don’t really know how long it will take for you to recover or how long your recovery will last.”

“So this could just be temporary?”

“Yes,” Cassie told him.

Zach considered. “I don’t know that I want to be your guinea pig. If this is something that’s going to wear off and I’m going to have to go through the hell of dying again, you should’ve just let me go.” At the stricken look on Doc’s face, he added, “Meaning no offense, of course. You’re a good guy, Doc, and I know you mean well. It’s just not what I would’ve chosen for myself, is all.”

“Not even for the greater good?” Cassie asked, feeling stupid even as she said the words.

“What good am I accomplishing, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“We found a way to slow the Telo,” Doc explained. “We think it holds the clue to the child kidnappings by the Obits.”

“So I have to die twice so you can play Scooby Doo?” Zach shifted his wasted form on his pillow. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to be pissed.”

They tried to reassure him, but Zach had nothing more to say. Doc and Cassie went into the next room to talk. By this point, Doc was nearly in tears with frustration. “I should’ve never let May plant that crazy idea in my head,” he said. “What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking we were doing him a favor,” Cassie said. “We all did.”

“The favor of being allowed to hope, so he can go through all that suffering again.” He pounded a table with his fist. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You saw someone dying and wanted to help. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But help how? ‘First, do no harm.’ Hippocratic Oath.”

“You took it?”

“Well, no. But–”

“Look, we can’t undo the past. There’s plenty of people who would’ve kissed your feet for a few extra hours, and you’ve given Zach . . . how long?”

Doc shoved his fists in the pockets of his lab coat. “I don’t know. The research indicates a need for repeat doses to maintain the effect, but a rat’s lifespan is so compressed compared to that of a human that I don’t know how often he would have to re-dose.”

“Kids die all the time on the streets. If we keep our eyes open–”

“I don’t think so.” Doc shuddered. “Cutting up the newly dead isn’t something I want to start doing regularly.”

“So we’ll wait this out and take notes as things unfold.”

“Yeah.” Doc sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

Cassie hesitated, then put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not a bad person.”

“No,” came Doc’s muffled voice. “I’m a research doctor, just like my father. Only unlike him, I don’t have the decency to ask my human subjects for permission.”

* * *

Cassie slipped the plastic bags of Cheerios into her backpack and stood up. Eleven was watching her with a cool gleam in his eye that made her want to give him a piece of her mind about what he did to Rochelle. Being sworn to silence sucked. She signed the clipboard and went to the lobby to meet the guards who were going with her to the library.

The streets were empty, which was a relief at first, but became more nerve-wracking as they walked through block after block without seeing so much as a drunk street urchin. It had rained that morning, just enough to turn the streets foul with greasy puddles and muck from the malfunctioning sewers. Coupled with the stench of garbage and bodies rotting in the rising heat, it was enough to make Cassie wish they could go back to the hotel and to hell with the goat.

They found the library abuzz with activity, in contrast to the silent streets. Guards paced and fondled their weapons, glaring at the newcomers, while librarians and patrons moved restlessly in and out of the building, often with no books to show for all their comings and goings. The primly dressed girl who assessed Cassie’s bags of cereal seemed distracted, unwilling to set a firm price and telling her to get two or three books, or maybe four, and then they could discuss. Cassie’s guide inside the library was equally nervous, shining her flashlight in the wrong places and leading her seemingly everywhere except to where the books on livestock were shelved.

“Are you trying to keep me from finding what I’m here for?” Cassie finally asked. “Because if you don’t have books on goats or if you won’t let me borrow one, just say so.”

The girl ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking too good today. It’s okay to get a book about goats.”

“Where are they, then?”

She rubbed her forehead in confusion. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know, but–” She glanced around like a cornered animal, then with a little cry, she crumpled to the floor and burst into tears.

Cassie squatted beside her and patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll find them. It can’t be that hard.”

At Cassie’s touch, the girl set up a keening that carried through the stacks. Between wails, she blurted, “Plant Culture, SB, Forestry, SD, Animal Culture, SF, Fish–”

It took Cassie a moment to realize the girl was reciting call letters, and by then, two other librarians had come to find out what the noise was about. Cassie made a helpless gesture. “I didn’t mean to upset her. I only wanted a book about goats.”

One of the librarians shook her head. “Poor Anya. She shouldn’t be trying to work today.”

“We told her,” the other apologized to Cassie. “But she wanted to be brave.”

“Brave about what?”

“Her little sister was in a group that got picked up yesterday. We hoped it was just a slave run by the Pharms, and we invited them over this morning to negotiate, but they said they don’t have our kids.”

With Anya still sobbing, Cassie mouthed the question, “Obits?”

The librarians nodded.

While one girl stayed behind to comfort Anya, the other took Cassie to the books on animal husbandry. Cassie perused the titles, barely able to concentrate as the librarian told her of the latest round of kidnappings. “We thought we were safe because the Obits haven’t ever traveled this far into the city. The Pharms usually leave us alone, and the smaller groups don’t bother us because they need our knowledge.” She gave Cassie a significant look. “Did you know we’ve got this whole place wired? We can blow it up, burning all the books in it, if anyone tries to attack us.”

Cassie hadn’t known, and the thought made her anxious to finish her business and leave, lest someone detonate the explosives by mistake.

“We thought it was fine to let our young ones play in the sculpture garden across the street. Our guards could see them, and it was a way for them to get fresh air and sunshine. Children need sunshine to prevent rickets. Did you know that? We have a book that says so.”

Cassie did know. Trying to ignore the condescension, she pulled a book off a shelf and leafed through it. It contained information about several different goat breeds, but none of the pictures looked like the goat in the concierge office, so she put the book back on the shelf.

“I wasn’t there when it happened.” The librarian lowered her voice. “But our guards say a van pulled up and a bunch of guys in black jumped out. They grabbed some of our kids, shoved them into the van and took off before our people could get down the stairs to confront them.”

“Sounds like Obits,” Cassie agreed. She selected a book about Nubian goats this time.

“But the weirdest part . . .” the librarian dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in close, “is that our guards say some of those guys looked like grownups.”

Cassie had been paging through the book, thinking the pictures were a good match to their own goat. Now she stopped reading and met the librarian’s eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

The girl shrugged. “I’m only sure that’s what our guards think they saw. The kids who didn’t get picked up say the same thing. Of course, what they actually saw could be something different. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.”

“No,” Cassie said, cradling the book to her chest. “If they really did see grownups, it would mean about the worst thing imaginable.” Before the librarian could ask her to elaborate, she added, “I think I have everything I need. I’d like to check out now.”

* * *

Cassie was excited to see the shuttle was back. She left Nubian Goats for Dummies on the concierge desk and ran to Conference Suite A. She needed to report to Mundo on what she had heard at the library. Then she could find Galahad and maybe convince him to take her to the penthouse early. The thought of what might be happening to the library children was enough to turn her stomach, and she needed Galahad’s reassuring touch to make things right.

To her surprise, David and Galahad were already in the conference suite, deep in conversation with Mundo. “Can it wait?” Mundo said. “This is a debriefing.”

“I just thought you’d like to know some of the library kids were stolen by Obits. There were witnesses, and they say some of the Obits looked like grownups.”

Cassie had expected them to be shocked by her news or to at least raise their eyebrows. Instead, Galahad muttered a curse, and David turned to Mundo with defiance in his eyes. “See? Word is getting out.”

“Word about what?” Cassie asked.

Galahad managed a grim smile and motioned her into a chair, even though Mundo hadn’t invited her to stay. “We have a Pharm contact.”

“We were all Kevorks together,” David added with a smug air.

Cassie refused to be goaded and waited for Galahad to continue.

“He thinks the Obits are getting desperate. They’re pressuring the Pharms to enter into full-time kidnappings instead of just incidental raids.”

“Suburban kids are getting wise to it all,” David explained. “And the smaller gangs aren’t delivering like they used to.”

“The Pharms are holding out for a bigger payoff, though,” Galahad said. “Our guy didn’t know what that payoff was, but given how Zach responded to the growth hormone, we’re thinking it’s got something to do with Telo.”

Cassie pondered this. “I guess if the Pharms knew about growth hormone, they’d round up all the kids and cut open their brains themselves.”

“Maybe,” Mundo said, leaning back in his chair and frowning in thought. “May seemed to think this was just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. I’m inclined to agree.” He swung his chair forward and reached for a pad and pen. “Think about it. You can’t kill off everyone because where does that leave you? If there’s some grownups somewhere keeping themselves alive with growth hormone, they’re probably scientists, since who else knew about it?” He made some notes. “And while it’s possible they want to stay alive because they’re scared to die, it’s not very likely. The world basically sucks, and they’re just putting off the inevitable.”

“Doc says even with repeat dosages, the effect is only temporary,” Cassie said.

“How temporary?”

“He’s not sure. A couple years, maybe?”

Mundo wrote that down. “That might be long enough to find a cure if they have the right equipment and they’re already close.”

Cassie sucked in her breath, suddenly seeing how the pieces fit together. But it was Galahad who said, “So you think the Pharms are holding out for the real deal. They want the cure.”

“It fits with the evidence,” David agreed.

Mundo’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the three of them. “If the Pharms get hold of the cure, they win. They want control of the city, and once they can cure the Telo, they’ll be able to control us all.”

“So the Obits are scientists?” Cassie asked in confusion.

“I doubt it,” Galahad said. “Our guy said they seemed to be front guys.”

“Probably former military,” David added. “Or security of some sort, hired with the promise that if they do their job, they’ll be first in line for the cure.”

“So what do we do?” Cassie wanted to know.

Mundo stood up. “We get as much information as we can and we think. I’ll call a strategy meeting for later, but for now, we need a break to let this sink in. Go back to your regular chores, keep your mouths shut, and I’ll send for you if I have any more questions.”

As everyone rose to leave, Mundo added, “Cassie? Do me a favor and find Rochelle. Tell her I want to spend a little time with my kid.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

We think we’ve figured out the mystery. The question now is how to find the surviving scientists, if they really do exist. We need to find them fast, before the Pharms do, because once the Pharms have the cure, they’ll hoard it like they do antibiotics and they’ll be able to control everyone.

The most obvious thing is for us to work with the Obits, so Mundo is calling a meeting of the alliance to talk it over. In the meantime, he has asked the twins to shadow them if they can. They weren’t too crazy about the idea at first, but when we told them there might be a cure for the Telo, they became a lot more interested. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people as much in love as they are. They’ll do anything to extend their time together.

I guess Jay and I are more fatalistic. Or maybe we’re just skeptical that anything will happen in time to save us. There isn’t a cure yet, if children are still being kidnapped, and time is running out.

Chapter Nineteen

Mundo called an alliance meeting for later that same night. A ballroom was selected for the event, and while the older boys pulled together tables and brought in chairs and a podium, the girls and smaller children did their best to decorate, using silk flower arrangements from one of the storage rooms. Sid made sure the lantern batteries were adequately charged, and Cassie and Alaina directed the younger children in placing hotel note pads and pens at each seat around the conference table. Cassie raised her eyebrows when wine glasses were set out, but her stomach didn’t clench with hunger when Sandra brought in trays of snacks. Neither Cassie nor Galahad had been invited to participate in the meeting, and they could have snacks in the penthouse later. There was no longer any need to gaze enraptured at the sight of stale Cheetoes, or raisins shriveled to the consistency of pebbles.

They were putting the finishing touches on the decorations, with Cassie and Alaina bickering amicably over how best to make use of the silk ivy, or whether to even use it at all, when someone touched Cassie on the elbow. She turned around to see Rochelle. “Doc wants to know if you can mind the clinic,” she said. At Cassie’s look of dismay, she added, “He has to give a speech about Zach’s treatment.”

Cassie thought longingly of the penthouse patio, cool and safe on a warm night like this. It would be heaven to lie with Galahad on one of the chaise lounges, naked under the stars. “You and Sasha can mind the clinic. There aren’t any new patients, are there?”

Rochelle scowled. “Mundo wants me in the nursery with the baby while the delegates are here so it will look like he’s got a full-time nanny. And Doc doesn’t feel right about leaving Sasha in charge of the ward.”

Cassie understood but wasn’t happy about it. Why should she change her plans just because Sasha was unreliable and Mundo wanted to create a certain impression?

She followed Rochelle to the clinic where she found Doc in the treatment room, bent over a piece of paper and scribbling furiously. “I understand you need backup,” she said.

Doc looked up with a harried expression. “Are you a good writer, by any chance? They only told me half an hour ago I’m supposed to give a speech about the effect of growth hormone on Telo, and I don’t know what to say.”

“Ask Alaina. She’s the one with the history and English background. I bet she can write.”

Doc bent back over his paper. “No time. By the time I get done explaining it all to her, the delegates will be here.”

“So write it like that — as if you were explaining it to an ordinary person.”

Mumbling unintelligibly, he wrote a few words, then crossed them out.

“So how long do you need me to cover the clinic for you? Do you have to stay for the whole conference or are you going to give your speech and leave?”

“God, I hope Mundo doesn’t make me stay there half the night with Empress Elissa and those wackos. Did you know she gets upset if she isn’t addressed as ‘Your Excellency’?”

Cassie did know, and cringed at the memory. “So you’re going to give your speech and come right back and relieve me?”

“If they don’t ask a lot of questions.” He gave her a sly grin. “Why? You and your boyfriend have plans?”

Cassie felt herself blush, but willed herself not to look away. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. She was lucky — so lucky to have found love after the horror of the past year. “I just don’t want to be stuck here all night.”

“Well, neither do I. But yeah, I intend to come back as soon as I can. Hopefully, the whole thing will break up early so we can quit acting like we’re running some sort of major medical center around here and go to bed.”

Cassie was about to add to that remark, but Doc cut her short with a wave of his hand. “Look, can you help me out with this?”

She looked at the scribbles on his note pad. “You’re rambling.”

“I know.”

“How about you just write an outline, you know like for a school essay or something. Use that and wing the rest of it.”

Sasha poked her head in the door. “Amy Gurrola and Mallory McCarver are here from St. Catherine’s Prep. They heard about Zach and want to see him before the conference begins.”

Doc threw down his pen in frustration. “This isn’t the goddamn circus. Tell them–”

“It’s okay,” Cassie said. “I’ll go handle ward tours. You just write that speech. And make it a good one.”

* * *

Cassie yawned over the goat book. She had begun reading with a sense of excitement and purpose, only to find that most of the information about livestock care was inapplicable to their situation. There was no safe place to let the goat wander, except perhaps in the hotel parking garage, under guard. There wasn’t much chance they would have an opportunity to breed their goat, although the idea of a herd of goats for milk and meat would have captured her imagination under better circumstances. And the fine distinctions between orchard grass, timothy hay and alfalfa? This goat would be lucky to get grass and weeds from the nearby parks.

With so little practical information to go on, Cassie let her mind drift. She wished Galahad’s request to help her mind the clinic had been granted. Instead, he had been assigned to hang out with the guards from the other groups and make sure there were no double agents among them. She wished, too, that Julilla hadn’t moved back into her own room, or that Zach wasn’t angry at having been made their Telo guinea pig. With no one to talk to but dull little Sasha and nothing to read but the goat book full of unworkable advice, she grew sleepy. Would Doc ever come to relieve her, or would he be stuck all night with the crazy delegates from the alliance?

The door opened, and she snapped her head up. To her disappointment, it was only David. “Is Doc still speaking?” she asked.

“He was when I left. He got a late start. Roy from the City Hall group got into it with Elissa over seating arrangements. While that was going on, the St. Catherine’s girls tried to form some kind of pre-agreement with the St. Xavier’s reps on how they would vote on any issues that came up, and by the time Mundo got the whole group called to order, everything was way behind schedule.”

“Great.” Cassie set the book aside. “They’ll be there all night. And once they start drinking, we’ll be lucky if they don’t tear each other apart. Who needs Pharms and Obits when we’ve got each other?”

David agreed. “They gave me a headache, which is why I’m here. Got any aspirin?”

Cassie led David into the treatment room and rummaged in a cabinet. “How bad is it? If it’s really bad, I can give you some aspirin we got from the Pharms. But if it’s just a mild headache, the willow tincture is just as good, and we make it ourselves for free.”

“I’ll try the willow.” David accepted the dropper and dosed himself. Then he handed back the bottle and sprawled in a chair, gazing up at Cassie with a predatory expression she had never seen before. “So you’re stuck here all alone.”

Cassie put the bottle away, wishing he would quit looking at her like that. “Not really. I’ve got Sasha and a whole ward full of patients in the next room.”

“But no one in here.”

“That’s true.” She locked the cabinet, affecting a manner of brisk efficiency. “Well, you’re all set. I need to get back to work now.”

“No, you don’t.” He waved her to him. “There’s something else I need.” He grabbed her wrist and tried to put her hand on his crotch.

Cassie struggled as his fingers dug into her flesh. “Let me go! I’ll tell Galahad.”

“Go ahead and tell.” He forced her hand along the bulge in his pants. “You don’t really think he gives a damn, do you? We shared girls when we were with the Kevorks. You’re no more special than any of those other chicks were.”

Cassie tried to slap him, but David grabbed her other hand, and she kicked his shins and stomped on his feet until he released her. She lunged for a heavy flashlight on the table, brandishing it like a club. “Get the hell out of this clinic!”

He got to his feet with the lazy moves of a cat, his features twisted in an ugly smirk. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just thought you’d like to have a little fun with a guy who knows how to treat a girl.”

“And you think you’re that guy?” Cassie scoffed.

“At least we know who killed my last girlfriend.”

Cassie sucked in her breath at the mention of Leila. “I don’t know what that has to do with–”

“Really?” He took a step toward her. “The noble Sir Galahad didn’t tell you what happened to Trina? Better watch out or the same thing might happen to you.”

Ice was forming in the pit of her stomach, but Cassie tried not to let her hands shake or her voice tremble. “Quit talking crazy. If there’s something you think I need to know, tell me.”

“Better ask him yourself, darling. That way you can’t say I made it up.”

“I’m not your darling.”

“But you will be,” he said with a slow, appraising smile. “Once you know the truth, you’ll come looking for me. And I’ll be keeping the bed warm for you.”

For a moment, Cassie thought he might try to grab her again, and she tightened her grip on the flashlight. To her relief, David walked away with an air of exaggerated unconcern. Although she knew she should run to the ward for safety in case he came back with something worse than nasty words and groping on his mind, she couldn’t face anyone yet. She set the flashlight on the table, startled to find herself weak in the knees and breathing like she had been running.

What the hell was David talking about? Of course she knew Galahad had girlfriends before her. He understood her body too well to be a novice. It was no surprise that he had a girlfriend with the Kevorks. But why this mystery about her? If she was dead, so what? There were lots of ways to die.

Cassie sank into a chair, hugging herself. There had already been so many unpleasant surprises about Galahad. She wasn’t up for one more. Why couldn’t everything be like it was in the penthouse, all clean and civilized? Up there, everything was right with the world, while down here–

Sasha poked her head in the door. “Cassie?”

“Unless Doc is back, go away.”

“But you have to come,” Sasha said. “Topper, the one with the rash, is sick.” Seeing that Cassie was unmoved, she added. “He’s throwing up blood.”

* * *

Cassie felt horrible about bailing on Doc, but by the time he escaped the meeting, she was dirty and smelly from caring for Topper, and worse, she was a nervous wreck. She ran the stairs to the third floor room she shared with Galahad and was relieved he wasn’t back yet from his spying duties. She gave herself a sponge bath and washed her hair with the last of her no-rinse camp shampoo. Then she changed into fresh clothes and lay on the bed, willing herself to take deep breaths and relax.

No luck. The sound of David’s hateful words burned in her memory, repeating over and over every time she closed her eyes. Lying in bed was useless. She had to do something.

She jumped out of bed and searched the room for some obvious task, but she had tidied up that morning and there was nothing that needed doing. She moved a few objects at random, but that didn’t help. Where was Galahad? Maybe she should go downstairs and confront him. But no, she might have to make nice with the delegates’ guards and other hangers-on, and she wasn’t up for that, especially not the Thespians, who might try to soliloquize for her, or worse, pantomime like the kid who wandered into the ward earlier in the evening, pretending to offer entertainment but really just curious to see Zach.

She would have to wait here. But the walls of the room were too close, the corners too dark with only her one electric lantern for light. She found herself pacing the narrow stretch from window to closet and back, sometimes pausing to sit on the bed, only to jump up as if the mattress were on fire and begin pacing again.

After what seemed like hours, she heard the door open and spun around, her heart setting up such a pounding, it was a miracle she didn’t faint. Galahad came toward her, smiling in that fond and reassuring way he had, as if she had made his day complete just by existing. For a moment, Cassie envisioned herself returning his smile, dismissing David’s words as the lies of a hurt and jealous boy. She would go with Galahad to the penthouse, and they would make love on the patio in the early light of dawn, then dawdle over some exotic snack from the kitchen pantry while spinning dreams of the world they wished they still lived in.

Galahad stopped in the middle of the room, and his expression turned to one of concern. “Is everything okay?”

Cassie hesitated. Once she said the words, she wouldn’t be able to take them back. She would have no choice but to follow wherever they might lead.

He put a hand on her arm.

Cassie jumped away. At the stricken look on his face, she said, “David came to the clinic tonight. Why didn’t you tell me about Trina?”

Galahad’s features closed down, and his eyes grew wary. “What did David think I should’ve told you?”

“Oh no you don’t.” Cassie shook her head. “He said you’d deny it. So is it true?”

“That I had a girlfriend with the Kevorks? Yes. Are you satisfied now? She didn’t mean anything to me like you do.”

“Of course you’re going to say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Easy to say since she’s dead.”

“So he told you that, too.”

Cassie lifted her chin and met his eyes. “How did it happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Cassie turned away in disgust. “Liar. All that talk about truth, nobility and civilization, and you can’t even answer a question.”

“But I don’t know! I was drinking and taking pills, and the last thing I remember was the argument, or didn’t he tell you that part? There was the fight with David and Trina in the pub, and I think some other people got involved, but it’s all fuzzy, and then there were several hours where I don’t know what happened. The next thing I knew was when I woke up.”

“Just like that?” Cassie held her breath.

Galahad sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. “Yes. We were in an office building, but I don’t know how we got there. I tried to do something for her, but she had already been dead awhile.”

“And then?”

“I tried to find clean clothes and hide the knife.”

It took Cassie a moment to grasp the import of his words. He couldn’t possibly mean–

“David found me,” he went on, his voice strange and small in the dark. “He said he’d looked everywhere for us and was worried because there was something bad about that batch of pills. They weren’t what we thought they were.” In an even softer voice, he added, “David never criticized me, even though she had been his girlfriend first and he was still in love with her. Her death has always been our secret.”

A rushing sound filled Cassie’s ears, breaking over her head like a wave. She was going to faint and make a fool of herself, except — oh, she had already acted like a fool! She had given herself to Galahad, believing in him, trusting that he was one of the good guys, that he wasn’t like these other wild boys who–

“Cassie?”

“You killed her.”

“No. I mean, I don’t know if I did or not.” He got to his feet and took a step toward her, pausing when she backed away. “If I did, it was because I was out of my head.”

“That’s either a lousy excuse or a lie.”

“It’s no lie. I could’ve never done such a thing sober.”

“You killed your own cousin.”

“You know why I did that. Be fair. I’ve always been good to you.”

“Good to me for how long? Until I piss you off and you cut me up for rat food?”

“Stop it.” He moved toward her, ignoring her skittering backward steps toward the wall. “You know me better than that. David is jealous. That’s the only reason he said those things. He knows I’m different now, and you know it, too.”

“Get away from me. Don’t even look at me!”

“Please, angel. Be reasonable.”

She didn’t want to be reasonable. Her whole world was falling apart again. After everything she had been through, she had dared to trust and love, only to have it taken away from her, just like her family, just like her teachers and friends, just like everything she ever thought mattered. The world was once again an upside-down place where there was nothing safe to hold onto. “It was all just a goddamn lie, wasn’t it? Just like the world before the Telo, just like all our stupid dreams.”

“My love for you isn’t a lie.”

“Stop it!” A note of panic crept into her voice. “Leave me alone!” She lunged toward the door, but he caught her in his arms, and they struggled until her shrieks and kicks forced him to release her. As she bolted toward the hall, she heard him call her name, but she wouldn’t go back, she couldn’t go back. Instead, she ran into the corridor where several children had poked their heads out their doors, curious about the noise. “Get back in your fucking rooms!” she screamed.

All down the hallway, doors slammed shut. Then at the end, one opened and a figure held a lantern high. “Cassie?”

“It’s none of your business, Julilla.”

“Come talk to me, anyway. You’re scaring the children.”

Cassie tried to walk but ended up running to Julilla’s room. At the kindness in her eyes, she burst into tears.

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

I’m staying with Julilla now. She’s been so nice to me, even though all I do is cry and act like an idiot. I wouldn’t even go downstairs to eat the first day, so she went down there herself and made sure I got a meal brought up. Then she spent the day listening to me cry and babble until I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I found her sitting at the window, trying to knit from some instructions in a book. Her knitting is droopy and uneven, but better than anything I could do. She says it’s something to keep her busy while she recuperates. Her arm is better, but she still gets tired easily.

Since I was no longer crying this afternoon, we talked. She didn’t seem surprised by what I told her and said she doesn’t know why I’m shocked by anything a Kevork does. She also said drugs and alcohol don’t usually change a person’s personality and that she’s seen enough of it to know. This depressed me, since I had been hoping someone would tell me Jay isn’t really a scary and violent person but just a victim of drugs and circumstance. Instead, it looks like he only puts on a good show.

So why am I still in love with him?

He came by after dinner, knocking at the door all polite and with a plate of food for me. I refused to see him, and Julilla told him to take his food and go to hell. I was ready to start crying all over again. The sound of his voice pulled at me until I thought I’d be torn to pieces. And when Julilla slammed the door, I felt it in my heart like a wound.

Then I got mad. Who the hell does he think he is? How dare he lie to me and pretend to be so loving, honest and peace-minded? If it was all in the past, maybe it would be different. I could maybe even consider forgiving what he did to Trina. But it’s not past — he begged to lead the attack on the Christian Soldiers. He shot the cousin who saved his life. He works as a forager, stealing and scrapping with other kids for food and trade goods. He’s all talk and good looks, and idiot that I am, I fell for it!

I told Julilla this, getting angrier and angrier, until I found myself pacing the room while she just sat and listened. Finally, I stopped in front of the punching bag she has set up in the corner. I wanted to hit something, and I was about to take a swing at it when Julilla stopped me, saying I would hurt my hands. She took some long bandages and wrapped my knuckles, then put big boxing gloves on me. Then she told me to go ahead.

I felt foolish in those big gloves, as if I were wearing clown shoes on my hands. But I hit the bag, anyway. Julilla laughed.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘You. You don’t know how to hit, do you?’

Julilla gave me a few pointers, and my next hits were more satisfying. It felt good to throw my weight into each punch and feel the bag move, even if it was just a little. I went at it as long as I could, until my arms were trembling. Then Julilla pulled the gloves off me, and I lay down, still breathing hard.

‘Feel better?’

Oddly, I did.

‘You know, Alex is short of guards since the whole Christian Soldiers thing. You’ve got what it takes, and the training might be good for you. Nothing like a hard training session to boost your confidence during the day and help you sleep at night.’

‘When would I have the time?’ I said, thinking of the clinic and the garden, both of which I had neglected all day, not to mention the goat and my other assigned chores.

‘If there’s no one around here but you who can water a garden or take a temperature, we’ve got problems.’

Her meaning was clear. And since during that time I was hitting the bag, I didn’t think about Jay, I told her yes, I would be interested in training to be a guard, as long as none of my training was with him. Gardening and making herbal tinctures is too quiet for me right now. I need something that will shut up my brain. I need to forget I was ever in love.

Chapter Twenty

Two days after the breakup, Cassie made her first appearance downstairs, going to the clinic after having breakfast in her room with Julilla. She was pleased to find Rochelle back on duty, after convincing Sid to make a nursery in a corner of the ward so she could mind the baby while she worked. Doc and Rochelle were thrilled to have Cassie back.

“I was all set to drag you out by force, if I had to,” Doc said.

She ducked her head, embarrassed, but happy, too, that she had been missed.

“Did Julilla tell you I stopped by yesterday? I had a sleeping pill for you, but she said you were already sleeping and that everything was under control.”

“She told me,” Cassie said, wondering how much everyone knew about the reason for her absence. Galahad wouldn’t have told, would he? It didn’t seem like the sort of thing he would do, given how concerned he was that everyone think him pure and noble. David must’ve told, in which case the stories being circulated were as likely to be lies as truth. “I didn’t have much trouble sleeping. I’m really okay.”

Doc nodded in relief, but Rochelle pressed her lips together and looked at her with skeptical eyes. She said nothing, though, and they settled into the business of checking on ward patients and administering treatments. Topper, the boy who had been vomiting blood, was doing better, although Doc wasn’t sure for how much longer and was annoyed he couldn’t get the right drugs to try some of the recommendations in his medical books. Zach, however, had taken a turn for the worse.

“I don’t have a body to extract a second dose from,” Doc said, after making some notes on his chart and motioning for Cassie to follow him to the next room. “So he’s asked me to help him along this time, even if it means shooting him.”

Cassie sighed and looked at the floor. As if her own life wasn’t depressing enough, she didn’t need this, too.

“It’s not really our policy,” Doc went on. “But we’ve done it before. Usually, we wait until the brain bleeding starts, since after that, they don’t know who we are, anyway, and–”

“I think I know the progression of the disease,” Cassie said testily.

Doc’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. It’s just I need some advice, and I don’t know the right way to ask.”

“Just ask. And no, I’m not going to shoot him for you.”

“I wasn’t thinking that. I’ll find someone. But I was wondering if you’d back me up if anyone says anything. He was almost dead before, and since he asked me not to put him through all that again, I feel like I owe him.”

“I’ll support you,” Cassie said. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone will care.”

“You never know. This has been Mundo’s star project and gave us a lot of influence in the alliance.” He removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with the tail of his lab coat. “I’m getting damn sick of my patients dying.”

“Telo victims always die.”

“You know what I mean.” He shoved the glasses back on his nose but wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Cassie understood. So many deaths in such a short span of time had left him feeling like a failure. “I know,” she said. “But I still believe in you.”

Doc refused to be comforted and walked away.

* * *

Cassie spent the day working in the clinic, helping with the baby, and tending the garden. Everywhere she went, she felt like a specimen under glass with everyone watching her, whispering and speculating about her breakup with Galahad. Why had she been so stupid as to make all that noise? And why had she been so dumb as to be so obviously, publicly in love with him? Everyone had their own theory as to what happened, and those who didn’t despise her pitied her. She hoped it wouldn’t take long for Julilla to convince Alex to put her on the guard register. She wanted to be someone new, and in a very public way. She couldn’t allow herself to become an object of scorn.

In the afternoon, she went downstairs, thinking to find Alex or Mundo and plead her case herself. As she was crossing the lobby, she heard a squeal of tires and glanced toward the front windows in time to see the shuttle lurch past. What were the foragers doing back so early? She had an instinct to run down to the curb and stand at the shuttle door with upturned face, waiting for Galahad to step down so she could see him and know he was okay. It was what she used to do, and she struggled against the pull of old habits.

She was still standing in the lobby, fighting with herself over whether to wait for a glimpse of him or flee to her room, when a series of shouts and crashes sent the lobby children rushing outside in a pack. Cassie moved cautiously toward the door, still not sure she wanted to go too near. Suddenly, the shuttle driver ran toward her. “Get some backup! And Doc! Now!”

Cassie raced to do as she was told, and soon the lobby and circular drive was an explosion of activity, most of it serving no purpose other than to amplify everyone’s sense of panic. “Your boyfriend’s killing David!” a boy shouted as he ran past, and now Cassie understood. She knew she should go out there and try to break it up, but instead, she sank onto a dirty sofa and waited. They wouldn’t listen to her. Who was she to a couple of violent Kevorks, other than another random female to be traded back and forth for sex?

It took Alex and three of his guards to break up the fight, but finally David and Galahad were brought in under heavy guard and taken to Conference Suite A. The door slammed shut behind them, and the whispers in the lobby and hallways began.

Cassie let the gossip swirl around her, unable to grab onto the meaning of anyone’s words. She didn’t need to hear the theories. She knew why they were fighting, and she longed to pack her few belongings and leave. Maybe she could live with May, or keep house for the twins. Maybe she could scrounge enough food to walk to her family’s wilderness retreat. It was a couple hundred miles away, but after everything else she had endured, the distance seemed like a small matter.

“Cassie?”

She looked up, startled to see Jimmy, the van driver, standing in front of her. How had she not noticed him walk up?

“Do you think you could help us unload the van? We’re kind of short-handed.”

* * *

Cassie went to the dining room that night, afraid to see Galahad but too curious to stay away. Julilla insisted on going with her, even though she was still convalescent and could’ve eaten in her room. They found seats with Doc and Rochelle, and Cassie listened to one of Doc’s pedantic explanations about skin rashes while pretending not to notice the air of tense expectancy that filled the room. David was at his usual table, bruised and bandaged, bragging about his foraging exploits and putting on a show of flirting with the girls. By contrast, Galahad sat like a stone at Mundo’s table between Alex and Kayleen. Cassie tried not to look at him, but she glanced his way often enough to see he was only picking at his food.

After dinner came the announcements. If she could just get through this, she could go back to her room with Julilla, hit the punching bag until her arms screamed with agony and then try to get some sleep. She shifted in her seat, trying to look interested in what Mundo would say and feeling certain she wouldn’t remember any of it.

He gave the latest report on child kidnappings. Who cared? He said the Pharms were still watching May’s every move and to be careful about going to her shop. As if she cared about jewelry right now. And he mentioned that two Pharm representatives had been by earlier in the day, asking again about the laptop. Were they still after that stupid thing? Let them have it.

Then he said something that made Cassie sit up and take notice.

“As I told you last night, the alliance voted to try and infiltrate the Obits. Each group of twenty-five or more is to send someone to them, pretending to join their team, but to work as a double agent, reporting back to the alliance as often as is safe to do so. Only in this way can we know for sure if the group contains grownups. We will find out where these people are based, what they want our children for and if they have a cure for Telo.”

There were murmurs among the group, and several people nodded.

“Tonight, we have a volunteer.”

To Cassie’s horror, Galahad stood up, his jaw set and a defiant look in his eyes.

“He and Banquo from the Thespians will be leaving in the morning. I ask that if you believe in God, you pray for them. If you don’t believe, your good wishes will suffice.” Mundo turned to Galahad. “Do you have anything to say?”

Galahad gave a slight shake of his head and sat down.

“I will expect everyone to stay silent about this in order to ensure the success of the mission. Anyone caught squealing will be executed.”

This drew a moment of shocked silence. The Regents had never had such a harsh policy.

“It’s the only way,” Mundo went on. “Our survival is at stake. Is that understood?”

Heads nodded, and voices murmured agreement.

“Good.” Mundo motioned for one of his assistants to read the next day’s assignments.

“Chores for tomorrow will be as follows,” the girl announced.

While she read down her list, Doc and Julilla each grabbed one of Cassie’s hands.

“It’ll be okay,” Doc said.

“Be strong,” Julilla added. “You’re well rid of him.”

Rochelle said nothing, watching her with knowing eyes. She understood. How, Cassie wasn’t quite sure, since what does a twelve-year-old know about love? But Rochelle knew Cassie was dying inside, that this was a mission Galahad wasn’t likely to return from and that he had volunteered to get away from her, for his own sake and hers. Cassie reached for her glass of water and swallowed hard to force down the bile rising in her throat. Was it too late to make him stop this craziness?

As if reading her thoughts, Julilla leaned in close. “You’re not losing him. You’re only losing the fantasy.”

* * *

Just before dawn, a tapping on the door woke Cassie from a restless sleep. She sat up and fumbled for the flashlight, but Julilla’s voice from the other bed stopped her.

“I bet it’s your boyfriend. You stay here.” She turned on the lantern and opened the door a crack. “Go away.”

Galahad’s voice was firm. “There’s something I need to tell her.” When Julilla hesitated, he added, “You know I won’t likely come back. Why not let me talk to her for a minute?”

Julilla sucked in her breath and stole a glance at Cassie, watching wide-eyed and solemn from her bed. “It’s your call.”

Cassie shrugged and looked away, her feelings too conflicted for her to think of anything sensible to say.

Julilla opened the door. “Make it fast. And if you harm so much as her left toenail, I swear to God you’ll be deader than your last girlfriend.”

A pained expression crossed his face. “Please, Julilla–”

“What is it you want?” Cassie said, surprised at how strong she sounded. How could she be in such control of her voice when everything inside was breaking into pieces? “Tell me. Then leave.”

He came to the edge of the bed and stood looking down at her, as grim and unreadable as an official messenger of bad news. “I’m leaving something for you. It’s under your pillow in our room.”

Cassie scanned his face and waited for him to say more, but got only a blank look in reply. “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Julilla stomped across the room. “Well, you could’ve said that from the doorway and saved us all the drama.”

Galahad looked at her, every movement a study in calm resignation. “Maybe I just wanted to see her one last time. If that makes me some kind of criminal, shoot me.” Without another glance, he strode out the door.

Cassie made like she would go after him, but Julilla got to the door ahead of her and slammed it shut. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I–” She tried to think. “I want to see what he left me.”

“Bullshit. It’s probably a trick. Men do that, you know. When they think they’re about to lose a girl, they’ll lure her into a place where they’ll be alone so they can kill her.” At Cassie’s disbelieving look, she added, “Wait until he’s gone. If he really did leave you something, it’ll still be there.”

“But I — oh, fine.” She threw herself on her bed and buried her face in the pillow.

Julilla rested a hand on her shoulder. “Why are you being this way? You were doing real good before. Why are you acting all weak and girlie now?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow. But she did know. If there had been any hope they might reconcile, it was gone now. He wouldn’t come back from this mission. If he didn’t get killed, he would die from Telo. He had gone away because of her, and now, even if there was some way to make things right, the opportunity had passed. “It’s just so . . . final.” Cassie raised her head and swiped at her nose. “I’m sick of everything being final. Aren’t you?”

Julilla sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

Jay is gone, and it’s probably forever. I’m trying not to care, but it’s hard. He left me the keys to the penthouse, but that only makes it worse because everything there reminds me of him.

I took Julilla up there with me, making her the third person to know about it. She was impressed, and when she saw the cupboard of cookies, mustards and jellies, she said she too would’ve loved a guy who could give her all those things.

‘I wasn’t doing it for food and feather pillows,’ I said.

‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean it’s pretty overwhelming.’ She made a motion with her good arm that indicated the entire suite. ‘A place like this could make anyone think they were in love.’

I wanted to be angry and tell her I loved Jay before he showed me the penthouse. I wanted to tell her my love was as real as the sun in the sky and the stars at night, but I was too sick from the way my thoughts kept running on the same stupid hamster wheel to nowhere. So I told her to pick a snack, and we went into the library.

While I made tea, Julilla examined the books. She got pretty excited over one called The Art of War, saying Alex had mentioned it once and could she borrow it. I said sure, since what difference did it make to me? When the tea was ready, I poured it into china cups and we talked.

‘You know,’ she said, ‘there’s a lot of space up here. We could make this a damn fine training room.’

‘I don’t want anyone else knowing about it. I only brought you because you’re my friend. No one else, though. Not even Doc.’

‘I didn’t mean like we’d bring the whole squad,’ she said. ‘Just me and you. It’s nice up here, and I bet we could get a lot of practice in, without the guys, the children and everything else down there that distracts us.’

This made me smile. ‘Up here, it’s a whole different world. Anything’s possible.’

‘It might even be possible you’ll get over being in love.’

‘Does anyone really get over that?’

Julilla looked away, and I think she was embarrassed. ‘It gets easier.’

For the first time, I wondered what her past was like. I’ve been so caught up in my own stupid love affair and the growth hormone mystery that I never thought to ask what Julilla’s family was like, how she ended up with the Regents and whether she had a love of her own. Maybe she’s like me and dumped someone because he turned out not to be who she thought he was. Or maybe there’s someone she’s still crazy about, rotting in one of the Telo pits.

How could I have been so selfish as to think I was the only one who had ever loved? Why do I think my pain is so special?

‘Well,’ I told her, ‘This place is ours now. We can make it whatever we want it to be.’

Chapter Twenty-One

Cassie began training under Julilla’s watchful eye. There were the regular sessions with Alex and the other guards, but it was in the penthouse with Julilla that Cassie developed her best skills, growing quick and strong in both mind and body. Now that she was a guard, she had access to better food, and she and Julilla supplemented their meals from the penthouse’s larder. Cassie’s occasional bouts of dizziness and nausea disappeared, her body filled out with lean muscle, and to her annoyance, she even started getting her period again.

Frustrated by the upkeep on her hair, now that she was out of camp shampoo, she contemplated cutting it all off. Instead, Julilla enlisted Alaina’s help in braiding it, producing dozens of small braids that hugged her scalp and flowed down her back. Sometimes she tied up all the braids in a knot, annoyed with even this much work. At other times, feeling sentimental, she tied little pieces of colored cellophane in them in imitation of May, whose shop she went to, pretending to buy bangles but really to deliver and pick up messages from their embedded team with the Obits.

Cassie didn’t like to admit that it was the possibility of a message from Galahad and not the errand itself she liked. Not that any of his messages were directed to her. They were official dispatches, written in code and describing the team’s contacts, hints of news and their efforts to gain the trust of both Pharms and Obits so they could penetrate deeper. Sometimes May had more specific news of Galahad, and these were the days Cassie lived for, even though she had to stand stony-faced, feigning nothing more than professional interest while May’s knowing eyes bored into her soul.

Cassie couldn’t let Galahad go. She trained to exhaustion, only to dream of him. She drank whiskey when she could get it, only to break down in drunken sentimentality. She even dated, such as was possible, but the kisses and fumblings of other boys left her cold. She wished her mother were alive to explain all this to her. Julilla didn’t understand, and Rochelle understood only too well, still trying in vain to get Doc to see her as something more than a child nurse. So Cassie took out her anger on Julilla’s punching bag and ran up and down the stairs until she thought her heart would explode. But as the days grew warmer, her longing for Galahad grew worse, leaving her petulant and irritable.

It was on a warm day in mid-summer after nearly two weeks of petty drop-bys and threats from the Pharms that Danny and Danica showed up, dressed for summer in matching black tanks and cotton pants overlaid with studded bandoliers. They hadn’t been to the hotel in awhile, but now they walked right up to her guard station, and after a critical scan of Cassie’s clothes and hairstyle, Danica got to the point. “May is in danger. The Pharms closed down her shop.”

“We haven’t seen her come out,” Danny added. “It looks like they’re holding her prisoner.”

“Do you know why?”

Danica shook her head. “She was doing so much double-dealing, it could be anything.”

“We heard them breaking things,” Danny said. “But there were too many of them for us to try and rescue her. We thought–” He looked at his twin and fell silent.

Cassie caught the look and understood. The twins weren’t used to asking for anything and probably weren’t aware that May was their primary link to the embedded team. “Of course we’ll help.”

She took them to Mundo’s summer office on the covered deck by the potato garden. But if she had hoped to be allowed to stay and strategize, she was disappointed. “You can return to your post,” Mundo told her. “We’ll let you know if you’re needed for anything else.”

Annoyed, she returned to the front door and two hours later was further frustrated when she wasn’t chosen for the rescue team. “What the hell?” she told Julilla. “I train like the rest of you. Why not me?”

“We can’t all go. Besides, you’re needed here.”

“Rochelle can cover the afternoon clinic shift. She’ll do anything to spend more time around Doc.”

“Cassie–”

“Fine.” She leaned against a pillar and pretended to watch the street for danger. She didn’t know how to explain her new longing to fight, since she didn’t understand it herself. “People are going to think you don’t believe in me. They’re going to say I must not be any good since you never let me fight or forage.”

“It’s you who don’t want to forage,” Julilla reminded her, making Cassie blush as she remembered her refusal to take orders from David. “And no offense, but you’re mostly a defensive fighter. That’s why we want you here, in case there’s trouble while we’re gone.”

“If I’m in the clinic, I can’t do much good.”

“Don’t talk like you think I’m stupid. When have you ever been chained to the ward?” Julilla gave her a sly look. “Would you rather spend the afternoon out here? I can recommend you be put on double shifts.”

“No thanks. Morning is enough.”

“Then quit complaining. Things are getting weird, and you’ll probably have plenty to keep yourself busy with real soon.”

* * *

Cassie made the ward rounds in sullen silence, taking vitals and making notes on charts. The room was stifling in the early summer heat, even with a window broken out and replaced by netting held in place with duct tape while they waited for Sid to come up with a better solution. The sickest patients were allowed battery-powered fans, which didn’t help much. Everyone else was supposed to be fanned in rotation by one of two children assigned to make the rounds with sturdy palm fans from the hotel gift shop. The children spent more time fanning themselves and each other than their sick patients, though, and Cassie was in too sour a mood to correct them.

They had a new Telo victim — a girl named Mella who had been one of Sandra’s assistants in the kitchen. Cassie tried to help her sit so she could breathe, but Mella gurgled and flailed, bruising her delicate veins. Frustrated, Cassie eased her back onto the pillows. Mella no longer knew anyone around her or even where she was. She would likely be dead within twenty-four hours, so perhaps it was pointless to help her breathe, and it might even be cruel.

She stood and wiped the sweat beading her forehead. If it was this hot now, what would August be like? She went into the treatment room to speak to Doc. They needed to start thinking of what they would do in late summer. No way could they get people well in an oven like this.

She found Doc examining the baby while Rochelle stood by in exasperation. “It’s just ordinary heat rash,” she said in a tone that suggested she was repeating herself. “I looked it up. We need powder, not zinc oxide.”

“Well, it’s a moot point, since I don’t have either.” Seeing Cassie in the doorway, Doc asked, “Don’t you girls have powder or something?”

Cassie shook her head and made a gesture of bewilderment. “I don’t. And if there’s anyone who does, it’s probably not the right kind.”

“It should have corn starch,” Rochelle said, snapping the baby’s clothes together and scooping him into her arms.

“Well, good luck with that.” Doc frowned in irritation. “Anything that’s come into this place containing corn starch probably ended up in one of Sandra’s dinner pots.”

“If it’s really just heat rash,” Cassie added, “the best thing would be to take the baby out on the deck instead of hanging around in here where it’s all stuffy. Doesn’t Mundo want to see his kid?”

Rochelle shrugged. “He was playing with him earlier, but asked me to take him away when we got word what happened to May. You know the rescue team is back already, right?”

Cassie hadn’t known. It was too early to expect them back, and she had expected there would be at least one or two casualties. “That was fast.”

“Yeah,” Doc said, his face settling into grim lines. “They got there just in time to see a van pulling away. A black one.”

“Obits? But they wouldn’t want her. They take young ones, not–”

“That’s all I know,” Rochelle apologized, bouncing the baby as he made irritated mewling noises. “Mundo sent me away. He said they needed to talk strategy and the baby would be a distraction.”

“So they’re up there talking now?”

“They were when I left.”

Before Doc could call for her to wait, Cassie made for the door. She didn’t make it far, though, running into Julilla in the hallway. “What happened?” Cassie demanded. “Rochelle says–”

“I know,” Julilla said. “Something’s not adding up, although we have some theories.” She motioned toward the stairwell. “Come on. We want your take on this, since you’ve been going over to May’s lately.”

* * *

Cassie had no idea what information might be helpful. She answered Mundo’s questions about who and what she had seen on each of her trips to the jewelry shop, but none of it was information she hadn’t given at earlier debriefings. She struggled to keep her mind on topic. Without May, how would they get Galahad’s messages? Would the Pharm turncoat who was acting as middleman try to make contact in some other way?

“You’re sure you never saw anyone who looked suspicious?” Mundo asked for the third time. “Any spy would’ve likely been a girl, you know. Someone pretending to buy jewelry like you were.”

“There was the time I ran into those Zoo girls trading ostrich plumes for zebra pendants,” Cassie said. “But we followed up on that at the time it happened.”

Alex nodded and shoved a piece of sweat-damp hair off his forehead. “I remember that. They were just what they appeared to be — ordinary monkey-eaters.”

“That’s not a nice thing to call them,” Kayleen said, lounging in a bikini at Mundo’s side and occasionally taking meeting notes. They were settled underneath a hinged flap Sid had attached to the deck awning, and she motioned for one of the children to pull the rope harder so the fan would move more air across her damp and glistening body.

“They are monkey-eaters,” Julilla said. “And they also eat cheetahs, bats and toucans. Might as well call it like it is.”

Mundo took a sip of his drink. “Let’s not have any name-calling. If nothing we did tipped off the Pharms and Obits, then it was something someone else did. That might be good, since it means no one in the alliance is working against us.”

“Unless May herself was,” Julilla pointed out. “Maybe they knew all along she was feeding us information and finally got tired of not knowing who she was really working for.”

Everyone fell silent, pondering this possibility. If May was unreliable, the entire mission was compromised. Their embedded team might not be alive, and their messages could have been fakes, composed by May herself with the intention to deceive. The idea was so troubling that Cassie reached for her glass of tequila in warm lemonade mix foraged from a bar. There was a dead bug floating in her glass, but she picked it out and took a long swallow, feeling the alcohol burn all the way to her stomach.

“No,” Alex said. “I think she was what she said she was. We had the twins monitoring her and–”

“And they’re about as reliable as a weather forecast,” Julilla said. “They do good work when they’re not otherwise engaged, but–”

Heads nodded. Everyone knew what the twins were like.

“We can speculate all day,” Mundo said. “And at the end of it all, we’ll still need a plan. So let’s cut to the chase.” He looked at Kayleen. “Read off the key issues, babe.”

Kayleen sat up and squinted at her notes. “In no particular order, we must re-establish contact with our embedded team, create redundant lines of communication, whatever that means, and we need to find May and either rescue her or kill her.”

Alex nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“So what’s the plan?” Mundo said.

“The problem,” Cassie said, embarrassed to feel all eyes upon her, “is that we don’t have enough information.” She glanced at Julilla for confirmation before continuing. “We don’t know for sure who picked May up, and we don’t know where she was taken. We don’t know how to reach her middleman, so we don’t know how to reach our embedded people. How can we make a plan without information?”

“I’ve got the twins waiting for an opportunity to go through May’s shop,” Alex offered. “They ought to turn up something within the next twenty-four hours.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Mundo said. “But since it’s all we have to go on, we’ll break for now.” He tossed back the last of his drink and ran a hand down Kayleen’s back to the tie of her bikini top, where he fumbled with the knot. He paused and glanced around. “You can all go,” he said. “And tell Truong to keep the kids off the patio for the next thirty minutes or so.”

* * *

After supper and evening chores, Cassie and Julilla escaped to the penthouse. They selected pretzels and mustard from their diminishing supply of snacks and settled into patio chairs to talk. As the high evening breeze cooled their bodies, Cassie felt some of her earlier worries cool as well. “You didn’t really mean that about May, did you? That she might’ve been a Pharm double agent instead of ours?”

Julilla crunched a pretzel. “I’d be surprised if she was, but I thought we needed to have that possibility on the table. If you’re prepared for the worst, anything else that happens is no big deal.”

“But if the Pharms were onto the whole thing, wouldn’t they have come here first?”

“They have. Over and over.”

“You know what I mean.”

Julilla sighed and got to her feet, looking over the balcony at the impenetrable darkness below. “Yes, it does seem like if they were using May to get information about us, they would’ve attacked by now. But a smart leader doesn’t do the obvious for the precise reason that it is so obvious.”

“So we know nothing, and have to wait.”

Julilla looked at her. “Yes. Most of what soldiers do is wait. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

They spent the next hour in lazy gossip. Julilla read aloud from The Art of War, and Cassie countered with a few pages from On the Origin of Species. They were relaxing on chaise lounges, cool and comfortable for the first time all day and wondering if they could get away with sleeping on the patio for the night when a distant sound made them sit up, frowning.

The sound grew louder, a steady rhythmic wail.

“Sirens?” Cassie said in disbelief.

Both girls rushed to the edge of the patio and leaned against the railing, watching the tiny flashing lights grow brighter while the bleat of the sirens grew into a scream.

“Pharms,” Julilla said needlessly. “The fuckers are coming straight at us, too.”

There was no time for discussion. They grabbed their weapons, locked the penthouse and ran down the stairs. The arrived at the ground floor breathless, shoved through a crowd of sleepy children and stopped under the entranceway awning, staring.

The flashing lights of the squad cars strobed over the group while Alex argued with the driver of the lead vehicle. Two Pharms got out of the second car, and several Regents guards reached for their weapons. The Pharms made no move on Alex or the rest of the group and instead removed something long and heavy from the trunk, tossing it to the ground where it landed with a sickening thud. Laughing, they jumped back into their cars, and the procession drove off, sirens blaring and lights flashing into the night.

Her mind on fire and her heart rising into her throat, Cassie rushed forward. Alex was already crouched over the shrouded form, tugging at the blood-stained sheets. Finally, he ripped down a corner that was obscuring the face. Cassie and the others crowded closer, and Julilla held her flashlight aloft so they could get a better look.

It was Cuervo, May’s Pharm turncoat.

* * *

The emergency meeting was held in Conference Suite A. The room was sweltering, but they kept the door closed for privacy and huddled around battery-powered lanterns, their faces glistening with sweat.

“It’s a challenge,” Alex said. “They brought the body here to provoke us.”

“But it’s also a message,” Mundo pointed out. “They took May, they trashed her shop, and now they’ve killed our middleman. They know something’s up and want to make sure we know that they know. The question is how much information they really have.”

“If they’re not suspicious of the embedded team already, they will be soon,” Julilla said. “Unless it’s a bluff and they’re hoping we’ll freak out and do something dumb.”

Cassie nodded agreement and tried to act like the mission was her only reason for concern. One of Cuervo’s jobs had been to recommend the services of the embedded team to the Obits, claiming they were a renegade band passing through the area, willing to work for food. It wouldn’t take much for someone to trace Cuervo back to the group, if it hadn’t happened already. “We need to get a message to our people. Tell them to come back.”

“We can do it,” Alex agreed. “We know where they are.”

“We know where they were last week,” Mundo corrected him.

“And depending how long the Pharms were on to Cuervo, even that could’ve been a lie,” Julilla pointed out. “I agree we should pull them out, but how do we make sure we’re not being led into a trap? What if they don’t really have anything on us and they’re hoping we’ll act too fast and lead them there?”

They talked for over an hour, the heat in the room rising along with their tempers as they went around in circles, unable to come up with a plan. Finally, they agreed they weren’t getting anywhere and could do with some fresh air and rest. Mundo dismissed them to their rooms with instructions to sleep on their balconies where the air was cool and meet him at the pool deck in the morning. “We can’t not respond,” he said. “I’ll expect all of you to be ready to agree on a course of action.”

But in the morning, they still disagreed, only this time, everyone was red-eyed and irritable after a restless night in the hot summer air. Worse, there were bugs in the morning oatmeal, and the coffee was so weak it resembled tea. Everyone sniped at each other, unable agree whether they should send a team to the north-side suburb that was the last known location of their embedded team, or try to work with a new contact and hope the embedded allies would take instructions from a stranger. The fact that the team might not even be alive was enough to give Mundo pause. “I had hoped we could come up with a plan on our own,” he said in annoyance. “But it looks like we’ll need to call the alliance together.”

“And hope the Pharms don’t show up,” Alex said. “I guarantee they’re watching. We’ll be putting our allies in danger.”

“Then what’s your idea?”

“Hit the north side hard and send a message that we’re strong enough to do what needs doing.”

“’Pretend that you are weak, that your enemy grow arrogant,’” Julilla said, quoting from The Art of War. “We aren’t big enough, even with our allies, to let the Pharms draw us into a trap. It’s better to wait and see if we can make them overplay their hand.”

“But we can’t let them get away with this,” Alex reminded her.

“And what about our people?” Cassie said, blushing at Julilla’s knowing look.

Before Julilla could speak, there was a scuffle at the patio door. They had told Truong to keep everyone out, but Doc was arguing with him.

“They’ll want to know,” he said, trying to push past. “Quit being a literalist.”

“I haven’t read a book since the Telo,” Truong said irritably. “Literature’s got nothing to do with it.”

Mundo called for Truong to let him through, and when Doc was finally standing, rumpled and sweating in front of them, he said, “The twins are in the clinic. They got in a fight of some sort. They say they have news for you.”

* * *

They found the twins lying together on a bed in the treatment room. Based on a bandage count, Danica seemed the worse off. Danny lay stretched out beside her, tracing a bruise on her face. He looked up as Mundo’s group entered the room. “This is a nice clinic you’ve got,” he said. “Even if it does need air conditioning.”

“Thank you,” Mundo said. “It’s all Doc’s work. The rest of us just run interference.”

Doc flushed slightly, although it could’ve been from the heat. “Bruises, abrasions, a couple cuts that needed stitches, a contusion and a concussion,” he said. “I’ve recommended an overnight stay for observation.”

“Better put them in a private room,” Julilla muttered. “Or you’ll be doing some observing, all right.”

Danny frowned, offended. “Doc said she’d get better faster if we weren’t having sex. Her health comes first.” He kissed Danica in an unusually chaste manner to punctuate his point.

“So what happened?” Mundo said, waving for Doc to bring him a chair. “We understand you got in a fight. Pharms?”

“None other.” Danny pressed a finger on Danica’s lips as she made to add to his comment. “We waited until night to sneak into May’s shop. There were too many people around, and it was easier to do it after dark. We got in, and it was pretty trashed. Even the art stuff, which hasn’t happened before.”

Julilla frowned and whispered to herself, “’Begin by seizing something your opponent holds dear; then he will be amenable to your will.’”

Cassie nudged her, indicating with a gesture that she should quit quoting.

“It looked like they took a lot of stuff out of the lab,” Danny went on. “It was hard to know exactly what, since it’s not like we go in there and do inventory.”

“But there was no paper,” Danica said, resisting her twin’s efforts to make her lie still. “She had notebooks when we infiltrated her place before, and she had some when she was here with you taking information off the laptop. Other than a few science books, there isn’t any paper anywhere in that lab any more. Not even a gum wrapper.”

“She had tons of notes about the growth hormone research,” Doc reminded the group.

Everyone looked at each other, letting this information sink in.

“So the Pharms now know as much as we do,” Mundo concluded.

“If they didn’t already,” Alex said.

“I don’t think they had much of a clue until now.” Mundo rested his elbows on his knees. “They took the equipment instead of destroying it, and they took May instead of killing her. If there was nothing new to be gained, they wouldn’t have gone to that kind of trouble. It would’ve been May they dumped on our driveway instead of Cuervo.”

“So what else did you find out?” Alex asked.

“Not much,” Danny said. “We thought since they had all the lab stuff, maybe they were taking her to Dr. Brody’s lab, so we went there.”

“Too obvious,” Julilla muttered.

Danica tried to sit up. “If you don’t like how we conduct a mission, quit hiring us.”

Danny pushed her back against the pillows. “It’s okay, babe. Rest and get better. Then we’ll kick her ass.” While Danica and Julilla sputtered in indignation, he went on. “Well, that’s where we went, and we didn’t get to look around because we got jumped. It was weird because they’ve never had a watch on the east side of their perimeter, but they do now, and the guy who heads it up is a vicious little fuck.”

“So May could be there,” Alex said. “Otherwise, why step up security?”

“The two events aren’t necessarily related,” Julilla pointed out.

“Correlation doesn’t equal causation,” Mundo agreed. “So is there anything else we should know? Anything odd that you might not have mentioned?”

Danny and Danica exchanged glances and shook their heads.

“Sleep on it. We’ll talk again in the evening.” Mundo motioned to Doc. “Be sure there’s paper and pens by the bed so if they think of something, they can write it down.”

* * *

The day passed in a haze of heat and irritation. The children whined and refused Alaina’s efforts at instruction. The goat brayed and kicked in its pen behind the concierge desk, and in the stifling air, its smell made the lobby stink of goat. The guards, divided on whether they approved of Alex’s or Julilla’s course of action, bickered and cast surly looks at one another. The baby wailed from heat rash, Mella went into convulsions as she entered end-stage Telo, and Doc threw his PDR into the hallway and kicked it in frustration.

Everyone thought the final straw had come when the foraging team came back empty-handed, complaining of road blocks and heavily armed Pharms. Sandra hauled David into the kitchen, threw a few pots around and demanded to know what she was supposed to cook for supper. David suggested they cook her fat behind, and Eleven had to call for backup to get things quieted down.

Cassie was thrilled to see David get a little comeuppance. Too bad it was from Eleven, who she suspected was even more annoyed by the supply shortage than Sandra, since it meant he had nothing with which to bargain for sex. Just as it seemed things were settling down again, there was a howl of sirens and squeal of tires outside the hotel entrance. This time, the Pharms didn’t even bother stopping. They simply slowed down and tossed something out the window. Cassie got to the door too late to see it happen, but she recognized the cellophane-decorated object a guard held up for the group’s inspection.

It was May’s hair.

* * *

“Hold still,” Danica said. She dipped the rag back into the cup of ashes. “Now close your eyes and tip your face up, like you’re pointing at something with your chin.”

Cassie tried to do as instructed, but the smell of charcoal irritated her nose, and she struggled not to sneeze. “How do you stand this?”

“One gets used to it.” She dabbed at a missed spot of bare flesh. “There. Now let’s do your hands.”

The hands were easier, but Cassie had a question. “Won’t this all come off when I sweat?”

“It’ll get smeared around. But if you don’t have to run or fight, you should be okay now that the sun has gone down and it’s cooler.”

When she was finished, Danica motioned Cassie to her feet and appraised her critically. “I wish you’d let me do your hair.”

Cassie picked up the length of black cloth she would be using as a cloak. “That’s what this is for.” She draped it over herself. “What do you think?”

“You look like the Grim Reaper.” At Cassie’s look of irritation, she added, “But no one will see you out there, that’s for sure.” She sighed. “I just wish I was going. No offense, but this place kind of sucks. Not the medical care, which Danny and I appreciate, but everything else, you know.”

“Well, usually the food isn’t so completely awful,” Cassie said. “The Pharms had our foragers blocked in, so Sandra mixed together whatever she could find.”

“I was thinking more of how stuffy this place is.”

At that moment, Danny walked in, returning from a trip to the toilet. “This place could use some proper windows,” he agreed, picking up the thread of conversation. “That’s why we like our loft. It was built before people had air conditioning. All the windows are in the right places to let the breeze blow through and cool things off.”

“Let’s go home tonight,” Danica said. “I’ll get better faster with some fresh air.”

Danny kissed her forehead. “Be patient, love. We need to follow the doctor’s orders.”

While the twins nuzzled each other in amicable disagreement, Cassie went to meet Julilla in the lobby where a group was assembling to pay a visit to the Thespians. Cassie resisted the urge to smirk at the sight of Mundo, dressed in black and with his face painted like the rest of them.

Alex watched the gathering delegation, obviously annoyed. Being made temporary leader appeared to be an honor, but everyone knew it was Mundo’s way of keeping him from sneaking a group out of the hotel in an impromptu attack on the north side Obit hangouts.

“Are we all here?” Mundo asked, looking around. Satisfied that everyone was accounted for, he gave Alex his final instructions. Then he reiterated the plan everyone had already committed to memory, and by pairs, they slipped into the darkness.

In spite of the hot stillness of the summer night, Cassie kept her cloak pulled over her head and wrapped around her body. She tried to make no noise as she followed Julilla through the shadows, but in the dim light of moon and stars, it was easy to overlook wires, trash and fallen power lines. Each time she stumbled, she cringed at the sound of her shoes skidding on dirt and small stones. She wished she dared turn on her flashlight so she could see properly. But Mundo’s instructions had been clear: no lights unless absolutely necessary. And so Cassie made her way cautiously, trying not to think of what she might be stepping on as she splashed through puddles, slipped on slimy objects and trod soft, squishy things underfoot.

Sometimes they thought they heard footsteps following, but the sounds stopped whenever they did, resuming later in maddening fashion, while never drawing any closer. The nails of stray dogs clattered on concrete, and somewhere a cat hissed. Voices whispered from doorways, soft curses from children too drunk or too lazy to follow up with a threat, and weak pleas for food. “Got some bread, sister? I’ll do anything.”

It was with relief that they arrived at the stage door and gave the coded knock. The privilege of using the private entrance was a recent one granted by Elissa to her closest allies, and no one knew quite what to expect. The door opened a crack, spilling dim yellow light into the darkness. An eye peered out. So did the muzzle of a gun.

Julilla took a breath and repeated the quote they had been given. “’Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, grapple unto thy soul with hoops of steel.’”

The gun lowered, and the door opened wider. “Who is it?”

“Julilla Walker and Cassie Thompson. Regents.”

A flashlight played across both girls’ faces. Satisfied, the guard motioned them inside. “Your leader is already here. Damn, it’s been a weird night.”

Cassie gazed at him skeptically. Given that he was dressed like Harlequin, but with the addition of bright green lipstick, dreadlocks and a top hat, it was hard to imagine what level of oddity would constitute “weird” in his world.

Julilla was even less impressed. “Where’s our group?”

The guard waved a yellow-gloved hand in the direction of a hallway full of trash. “All the way to the end, then turn left at the eye.”

“At the what?” Cassie asked.

Julilla rested a hand on the gun at her hip. “You better not be bullshitting us, freak.”

The guard returned her gaze with a sneer. “You see somewhere else they might be? Go on, if you think you’ve got a better idea.”

“He’s right,” Cassie said, tugging at Julilla’s sleeve. “There’s not anywhere else.”

“You listen to death-girl,” the guard told Julilla. “She knows.” He smiled at Cassie. “Nice costume, by the way.”

Cassie thanked him, but as soon as she and Julilla were in the claustrophobic tunnel of a hall, she removed her cloak and attempted to wipe the charcoal off her face.

Julilla played her flashlight over the graffitied walls, damp with water damage from leaking pipes in the upper reaches of the building. Broken furniture and equipment amplified the sense that they were boxed in with nowhere to go but forward. As the dim light of the guard station receded behind them with no answering light ahead, the girls grew nervous. Then Julilla’s light flashed off a red glowing object at the end of the hall, enormous and glittering in the darkness. As they drew nearer, they saw it was an eye, made from shattered red and yellow traffic reflectors, embedded in a wall hung with black curtains. The eye’s giant pupil stared out, eliciting a small shiver from Cassie and an annoyed jerk of Julilla’s chin. “He said left, right?”

“Right. Left.”

“Make up your mind.”

Cassie pointed. “That way.”

The next hall was shorter and led to a broad open room full of stage scenery, props and a half-destroyed sofa where two girls in gray dresses and white face paint looked up from playing cards by the light of a single candle. The taller one pointed wordlessly to a maze of plush red curtains, behind which were the dim echoes of voices.

Julilla and Cassie pushed their way through the curtains, across the hardwood floor of the stage, emerging as if by magic into a clear area that called to mind a pre-Telo living room. A fake Persian rug held pride of place, with chintz sofas and wing chairs arranged for visiting. Plywood walls covered in striped wallpaper held haphazardly painted portraits of haughty ancestors, and a mirror reflected the flames of candles arranged on the mantel of the phony fireplace. In the center of the coffee table was a silver tea service, and a girl in a French maid outfit was pouring amber liquid into cups.

Mundo looked up from the sofa at the girls’ approach, and Elissa, clad for summer comfort in the light linen dress of an Egyptian queen, waved for her two attendants to quit fanning her. In one of the wing chairs, a young man in tights and velvet picked at a plumed hat, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

Cassie remembered her manners and curtsied to Elissa, murmuring the appropriate “Your Excellencies,” and jerking Julilla’s arm to make her do the same.

Elissa motioned for them to rise and indicated they could sit wherever they liked. “We are pleased to see you again, Cassandra and Julilla. We trust you had no difficulties?” She glanced at the maid. “Offer our guests refreshment, Fiona.”

The maid curtsied to Cassie and Julilla and handed them each a cup. Cassie took a sip of hers and found it contained straight whiskey.

“Mundo was just telling us the distressing news,” Elissa went on. “We offer our condolence and complete support.”

“Uh, thanks, Your Excellency,” Julilla said, “but what exactly does that support entail?”

Mundo glared, but before he could say anything, Elissa smiled primly and answered as if the question had been expected. “Your leader and I were negotiating when you arrived, and we hope to hear your valuable insight.”

Julilla made as if to speak, but Elissa cut her off. “Before you give your suggestions, we have news of our own you need to hear.” She turned to the young man, now shredding his hat as if it were a matter of urgency. “Banquo, please tell our guests what happened on your mission to the Obits.”

Banquo looked at the girls, his eyes dark and haunted. “Something went wrong,” he said. “We were betrayed.”

* * *

The story was simple enough. They successfully worked their way into the Obits first as an affiliated minor gang, then as junior members. With Cuervo as their go-between, they sent information to the alliance about the Obits’ numbers, supplies and range. The Obits were a layered group, with access to information tightly controlled by the level of trust each member earned. “I never got very deep,” Banquo explained. “But the food was good, and so was the medical care. We got vitamins every day, and you could always get a pain-killer or antibiotic if you needed one. A good thing, since Galahad had that infected arm.”

“It got infected?” Cassie blurted, ignoring the way Julilla looked at her.

Banquo quit twisting his hat. “They took him to medical the very first day. He must’ve made a good impression on someone, because he was able to get in deeper than the rest of us.”

“Then why were his reports the least informative?” Mundo wanted to know.

“He was under the closest observation,” Banquo said, as if it were obvious. “A lot of what I reported, like the sighting of grownups, was what he told me, not what I saw for myself.”

“Then how do you know it was true?” Elissa said, frowning. “Your instructions were clear. You were to report hearsay as such and not as personal observation.”

Banquo ducked his head and resumed plucking at his hat.

“This sheds a whole new light on things,” Mundo said darkly. Since Cassie and Julilla had no way of knowing what he was talking about, he added, “Galahad is the only member of our embedded team who didn’t make it out in some fashion. Before you arrived, we were discussing the possibility he was being held prisoner. But now it sounds like he could’ve turned double agent, since we know nothing about what he was doing that close in.” He gave Banquo a stern look. “Isn’t that so?”

Banquo made a motion with chin and shoulders that could’ve meant anything.

“What do you mean, ‘didn’t make it out in some fashion?’” Julilla asked.

Mundo looked at the Thespian. “Would you like to tell it yourself?”

Banquo shook his head, shrinking smaller in his chair.

“Jesse from St. Xavier’s and Isabel from the Operatics were apprehended by the Obits’ internal police.”

“I hid when they came for us,” Banquo explained.

“Coward,” Elissa said.

“How else was I supposed to save them, Your Excellency?”

“Good question, since you only saved yourself.”

Banquo bowed his head. “Maybe if they hadn’t done it so fast.”

“Done what?” Cassie asked.

“Executed them. I found them hanging from lamp posts as a warning to others.” At Cassie’s look of dismay, he added, “But Galahad got in good with their upper command. I think he’s still alive.”

“And probably working for them,” Mundo said bitterly. “Hanging was his specialty with the KDS.”

“What do you mean?” Cassie demanded.

“He never told you the Kevorks called him Gallows?”

Cassie shook her head and fell silent, not wanting to hear any more. As other members of their team showed up, she wondered if she could leave without attracting attention. She could say she felt ill — that wouldn’t be a lie. Over the last two months, she had almost convinced herself she didn’t care what Jay Gallard did or didn’t do, but now she realized she had secretly been forgiving his faults, preparing for some unlikely future in which she would see him again and he would explain himself in such a way that she could trust him. They would have a happy ending, living out a long and peaceful life together, no matter how improbable the odds. But now–

“This has been a failure from beginning to end,” Elissa said, slumping in her chair with a sigh, then remembering she was supposed to be an empress and sitting up straight. She motioned for her attendants to work harder with their fans. “We should collect our alliance into one grand army and attack.”

“Attack where?” Julilla said, speaking out of turn and earning a scowl from Mundo.

“There’s a building being guarded by high-level Obits,” Elissa explained. “It’s part of a lab complex where they take the children, so we’ll attack there.”

Banquo jumped to his feet. “I’ve told you I don’t know where it is!”

“You say you know which road it’s on. Surely we can find it, if that’s the case.”

“It’s off County Road 23,” he said. “But I don’t know if it’s visible from the road, or down another road off that. And they probably have ambush points, anyway.”

Mundo gave him an intense look. “So are you trying to say it’s impossible?”

“Think carefully,” Elissa added.

Banquo dropped his gaze and stared at his feet. “Of course not, Your Excellency. I’m only advising caution.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “May I be excused, Madame?”

Elissa dismissed him with a wave of her hand and turned her attention to Mundo. Neither leader noticed the way Banquo caught Cassie’s eye as he backed out of the Imperial Presence. A few minutes later, Cassie excused herself, claiming she needed to use the toilet. She found Banquo waiting for her in the tunnel of velvet drapes, and he pulled her to a dark corner beside an iron ladder that reached into a great dark space overhead.

“What is it?” Cassie asked as he fumbled in a pocket.

Banquo withdrew a small box and pressed it into her hand. “He said to tell you he loves you.”

She shook her head. “If he’s staying of his own free will, he doesn’t love me, and I can’t love him after the things he’s done.”

“Cassie.” He grabbed her hand and held it tight, no longer the nervous weakling of a few minutes ago. “I know you don’t know me, but trust me that nothing is how it looks. We need to have faith. Everything depends on it.”

He dropped her hand and slipped into the shadows, leaving her alone with her flashlight, the gift and her conflicted feelings. Sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, she opened the box. Inside, glittering like a private star, was a diamond ring.

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

Battle preparations have begun, and everyone but the baby is being mobilized in some way. Those of us who can fight, train. The rest are being taught to spy and run messages, or are learning first aid from Doc and Rochelle. Meetings take place all day and often late into the night. Sometimes the meetings are here on the patio deck, other times Mundo and some of his guards and advisors sneak out in disguise to meet at the other groups’ locations.

I went along when we formally added the Zoo Tribe to our alliance. I wish I hadn’t been picked for that assignment because Zoo is a dirty, barbaric group. It appears they lived in the aquarium and small animal buildings during the winter, but now that it’s summer, they’re camping under the trees in the tigers’ fake savannah and the jaguars’ phony jungle. The animals themselves are dead, of course, and the Zoo kids wear the hides and make things with the bones. To seal our friendship, they burned scrap in a metal trash can and made music by beating bones together and chanting nonsense words. I was offered some oily meat, which I refused because it stank. I was offered a necklace made from a fang on a leather sinew, which I accepted. Then a tall boy in a headdress made of feathers and zebra tails led us in a crazy procession through the grounds that ended at the scummy sea lion pool, where those who dared jumped in to cool off from the summer heat.

As preparations continue, Julilla gets angrier and angrier. She says we don’t know enough about what we’re up against — will we be fighting just the Obits, or the Pharms, too? No one is sure. Worse than that, we’re not even certain how many Obits there are. Banquo is vague, and not even the twins with their mysterious information sources have been able to find out.

We’ve been eating, at least. After three days of roadblocks, the Pharms took the blockades down and went back to selling drugs and kidnapping children, as if we no longer interested them. It’s been a week since they last came to the hotel, and then it was just to stomp around and act all fierce and important while demanding to know why we hadn’t bought antibiotics recently. Well, hello. We’ve had other priorities, like acquiring guns and ammo to fight the Obits and sending out extra forage runs in case the barricades go up again.

There’s been no word about May. The twins have made a few attempts to find her, but they haven’t succeeded, mainly because we have no clues to indicate what part of the city she’s in, let alone what building. We don’t even know for sure she’s alive, although most of us suppose if she were dead, she would’ve been hung in a public place like our embedded team or thrown on our driveway like Cuervo. We’re divided over whether to pursue the matter or not. It’s one of the things we argue about when we’ve got nothing better to do.

And in spite of all that’s going on, we do seem to spend a lot of time not doing much. Julilla said most of a soldier’s time is spent waiting. She was right.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cassie looked Sid up and down. His slight frame was wrapped in a navy blue curtain that hooded his face. She thought he looked ridiculous, like a skinny child tripped up in his mother’s curtains, but he was so sensitive, it didn’t seem wise to say anything. Instead, she pulled her own black cloak closer, hooking and tying it according to the alterations the Thespian costume girl had made for her. “Just stick close,” she said. “If you get separated, meow like a cat, three times.”

“That’s a dumb signal.”

“You got a better one? Come on.”

By now, Cassie was used to navigating the damp and reeking streets by night. She kept to the shadows, moving around known hazards with ease, her ears alert to familiar noises so that she might pick out the unfamiliar. Since this was Sid’s first night trip to the theater, he stumbled after her, whispering the occasional curse as he tripped over trash and turned his ankles in potholes.

Tonight, the stage door was being guarded by a girl who looked like the Swiss Miss mascot, had the hot cocoa icon been inclined to sport leather bandoliers across her chest and a tattoo of the number eight between her eyebrows. Cassie gave the night’s password, adding, “We’re here to talk to Griffin about the Fresnels.”

The girl let them in and bolted the door behind them. She tugged a drooping knee sock, then settled herself on a high stool and smoothed her dirndl. “He’s been playing with those damn things for a week. I heard they’re powerful enough to set the whole place on fire.” She fixed Sid with a look. “Is that true?”

Sid had pulled off his curtain cloak and was attempting to fold it. “They’re dangerous, yeah. But that’s the whole point.”

“Well, you better not burn this place. This is the best home I’ve had since the Telo.”

“We know what we’re doing,” Sid said in exasperation. “And we can’t test them properly without sunlight, anyway.”

The Swiss Miss nodded in satisfaction, and Cassie led Sid down the claustrophobic hallway to the stage, which had been set to resemble a beach. A few Thespians lounged on towels and beach chairs by lantern light, fanning themselves and drinking something green and murky out of tall glasses. Off to one side, two spotlights had been disassembled, their parts arranged in orderly fashion in front of a giant foam clamshell. Griffin quit polishing a lens and came to greet them. “Glad you could make it tonight,” he said, shaking Sid’s hand with more enthusiasm than seemed necessary. “Let me show you what I’m doing. I think this latest adjustment will increase our range by at least two hundred feet.”

While Sid went to discuss the light refraction capacity of the Fresnel lenses, Cassie looked for something to do. She had no desire to join the phony sunbathers, who were now lazily tossing a beach ball back and forth. Normally, she would’ve hung out with whatever Thespian guards were around, but she saw no one in the vicinity and didn’t want to go back to the stage door and chat with the Swiss Miss.

Wishing she had brought a book to read, she went backstage and settled on the lumpy sofa. She picked up a script from a stack lying on the floor and attempted to read, but didn’t find it interesting — just two people talking and waiting for something to happen. It was so much like her own life that she tossed it back on the floor in annoyance. She was fumbling for a different one and hoping it wasn’t another Samuel Beckett, when a sturdy girl, all muscle and attitude, walked past carrying a box. Spotting Cassie, she stopped.

“It’s okay,” Cassie said, not recognizing her but understanding the look. “Cassie Thompson, Regents. I brought our engineer to talk Fresnels with Griffin.”

The girl set down her box, and it made a jingling sound. “So you’re Jay Gallard’s girl?”

Cassie shifted position and got poked by a broken spring. “No.”

“Really? I can think of a few girls who’d be glad to hear that.” She came forward and stuck out her hand. “I’m Marsha, by the way. I’m new around here.”

Cassie shook her hand and murmured appropriate greetings. “Where do you know Jay from?”

“Kevorks.” She motioned to a spot on the sofa. “Mind if I join you? I’ve been moving scenery all day, and my back is killing me.”

Cassie edged over, and Marsha planted herself, rubbing a bruise on her arm and babbling about how the foam clamshell was heavier than it looked. “It’s the way the weight is distributed,” she explained. “It’s all wrong.”

“I see,” Cassie said, but she really wanted to know about Galahad. “So how’d you end up here after being with the Kevorks?”

“Me and some of the other KDS gals had our own group for awhile, but they’ve mostly all Teloed now. We called ourselves the Blue Ladies. East side. Ever hear of us?”

Cassie shook her head. “I lived on the other side of Callahan until I joined the Regents. West side.”

“What made you move central? At least in the ‘burbs, you can grow a garden and dig a hole so your shit won’t stink.”

“The Regents were foraging in my area. Me and my friend were looking for food, and Galahad — er, Jay — said if we joined the Regents, we’d get to eat.”

Marsha nodded wisely. “That’s Gallows for you. Always trying to do someone a favor.”

“I don’t know how big a favor it was. I mean, yeah, I haven’t starved, but his cousin killed my friend, and Jay . . . well, he talks a good game.” Cassie sighed and looked away.

“It’s all right.” Marsha patted Cassie’s arm. “I doubt he really went turncoat. Banquo dropped a few hints that make me think there’s more to it, and besides, it’s not Gallows’ way. They’re either holding him prisoner or he’s got something up his sleeve. No one is more loyal than he is.”

Cassie fixed her with a withering look. “Did anyone tell that to Trina?”

“Oh.” Marsha sat up straight. “So someone told you that old rumor.”

“It’s no rumor. He told me himself.”

“Told you what? That he killed her?”

“That he might have, but he doesn’t remember.”

“That sounds about right.” At the look on Cassie’s face, she added, “I’ve never believed he did it. He was always helping girls out. It’s why they were all in love with him, those that liked guys, of course. Not me.”

“He says he was on drugs that night.”

Marsha looked at her askance. “Don’t tell me you believe that Reefer Madness bullshit. Drugs don’t change your personality, they just sort of amplify it. I’m telling you, Gallows would never hurt a girl, not even if she did something to him first.”

“Then how’d Trina end up dead, with him holding the knife?”

Marsha shrugged. “I have my theories, based on who was hanging around that night. But I could be wrong. It could’ve been a random attack and he was too fucked up to defend her. God knows there was enough mindless killing going on at the time. Or maybe they separated and he found her that way later. You don’t really know.”

Cassie hadn’t given much consideration to these possibilities, but why should she believe anything a Kevork said? “I know what I need to know.”

“That he’s willing to take responsibility for a murder none of his friends think he committed?”

“David believes it.”

Marsha raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? And are you sure he’s really a friend?”

Cassie fell silent, and Marsha stood and stretched her arms overhead. “Well, time to get back to work. I’m still on probation and don’t want anyone to think I spend all my time gabbing.”

“I see Thespians talking all the time.”

“Those are the ones who can act.” Marsha grinned. “It’s all work when you’re crew instead of cast.” She picked up her box, which jingled again as she shifted its weight in her arms. “It was nice talking to you. Say hi next time you’re around. I don’t have a lot of friends here yet, and since you’re Jay’s girl, you’re practically family.”

Cassie returned Marsha’s little wave and watched her disappear into the shadows, the sound of her footsteps and the jingling box dying into the darkness. Somewhere in the distance, something fell to the stage floor with a crash. Sid cursed amid giggles that could only be from the group pretending to sunbathe on the phony beach with its fabric and spangle waves.

Was Marsha right and she had driven Jay away for something he didn’t do? Cassie drew her knees to her chest and hugged herself. What an idiot she was! She said she loved him, but what kind of love had no faith?

Out of the darkness, a flicker of candle flame bobbed toward her. A pale face appeared, dusted with powder, and big eyes searched Cassie’s own. “Hi,” the girl said. She was short and thin, her lace-trimmed taffeta gown dragging the floor. She fumbled in a pocket and took out a deck of cards. “Want to play?”

* * *

It was nearly dawn before Sid and Griffin decided they had done enough with the Fresnels and needed some rest. Wordlessly, Cassie guarded Sid’s return through the gray stillness of early morning. The streets were quiet, with only a few early-rising urchins watching from doorways or pausing in the work of setting up for their daily hustle. A girl rattled a tambourine ominously as they passed, and the smell of toxic smoke stung their noses as they walked past an enterprising teen burning treated scrap lumber for cooking. When they got to the hotel, they found it quiet, too, although this time, the vibe felt off somehow, like something wasn’t right.

“You’re wanted in the conference suite,” a guard told Cassie.

She shoved back the hood of her cloak. “What for? That’s a weird place to meet when it’s this hot out.”

“It’s an important discussion. Mundo wants total privacy.”

“Why would he want that?” Cassie murmured, more to herself than with any expectation of an answer. They had discussed everything up to and including battle strategy in the outdoor office by the pool. Why this sudden need for closed doors?

Treating the question as if a response was required, the guard said, “May is back. She escaped.”

Cassie hurried to Conference Suite A, where she was let in right away. She found Doc, Mundo, Kayleen, Alex and Julilla huddled in front of the window. They moved aside so she could squeeze in, and she stifled a gasp of shock as she looked at the wan form on the sofa.

May was almost unrecognizable, pale and thin, her cheekbones jutting sharp under her eyes. Her hair was chopped in a ragged fringe close to her scalp, and in one spot, someone had gotten too enthusiastic with the shears and left a gash, which wasn’t healing as it should and oozed a pale yellow fluid. What Cassie found truly alarming, though, were the red, puffy blotches all over May’s face, neck and hands, with a few darker areas of charred flesh.

“It’s mostly second-degree,” Doc said, seeing the look on Cassie’s face. “But some of it’s from chemicals and might as well be third-degree, in terms of health risk.”

“What happened?”

May said nothing and closed her eyes, her breathing coming in quick gasps.

“She created a lab explosion in order to escape,” Mundo said. “They were making her run experiments for them.”

“When they weren’t experimenting on her,” Julilla muttered. “We need to clear those fuckers out.”

“Glad you finally agree with me,” Alex said.

“Enough.” Mundo glared at each of them. “We don’t do ‘I told you so’ around here, and anyone who doesn’t like that rule can join another group. Besides, until now, Julilla’s point was valid. We had no details of location, numbers or alliances, but now we do.” He bent to take May’s hand, but it was so badly blistered that he simply thanked her instead. “You’ve done brave work, and we won’t forget it. You’ll get the best medical care we can offer, and after that, anything you want. A new shop, a new lab . . . just tell us, and we’ll make it happen.”

May nodded, but didn’t open her eyes.

“I’d like to move her to the clinic now,” Doc said. “She needs fluids and rest. You can quiz her again later.”

Alex and Julilla improvised a stretcher and carried May to the clinic, where she was given a private corner of the treatment room. This was both for May’s comfort and for Doc’s, since treating her burns would require frequent attention of a sort he couldn’t easily provide on the ward.

Once May was resting as comfortably as could be expected, Doc and Cassie spent some time going through his manuals in search of useful information about burn treatments. “We have no aloe, no calendula, and we sure as hell don’t have any drugs.” Doc threw up his hands in frustration.

“Vitamin C and aspirin?” Cassie suggested.

“Maybe a band-aid, too,” Doc said. “One with Mickey Mouse on it, to represent the ridiculous level of care we’re providing.”

“Well, we can’t do magic. We need proper drugs. But if we try to barter with the Pharms, they’ll know why we’re doing it.” Cassie sighed and closed the book. “We’ll be lucky if they don’t come looking for her. But maybe another group in the alliance can make a trade for us. We could give them a list of what we need.”

“Maybe someone even has some drugs from an earlier trade,” Doc said thoughtfully. “I’ve heard the St. Catherine’s girls are pretty aggressive about storing antibiotics.”

“And the Thespians would probably have pain-killers.”

“They always seem to be high on something.”

“Actually, I think for a lot of them, that’s their natural state.”

“Even scarier.”

“So make me a list, and I’ll take it to Mundo so he can send someone to make inquiries.”

Doc fumbled among his papers for a pen, then sat down and began writing.

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

May is back, and she’s pretty bad off. At first, we thought the burns were her biggest problem, and we sent people to try and collect medicine without alerting the Pharms. But when Doc and I undressed her to rinse the burns with cold water, we found something else. At first, Doc thought it was menstrual blood, and he got embarrassed. But something Julilla said earlier made me suspicious, and I made him give me a flashlight.

You’d think after helping birth a baby, it wouldn’t feel so embarrassing to go examining up there, but it is. I’m glad I did, though, because something’s very wrong. I don’t even know if we can fix it. Without pain killers, there’s no way we’re going to be able to stitch her up, and there appears to be deeper bleeding from inside that we have no idea what to do about. In the end, all we could do was clean her up and pad her with rags in the hope that the bleeding would stop on its own.

I almost didn’t tell Julilla, since I knew how she would react. She didn’t disappoint me. She stomped around the penthouse, railing about misogynists and rape as a terror tactic, then she attacked the punching bag like she was going to put a fist through it. When she had finally worked off some of her anger, she said, ‘She’s going to need counseling.’

‘We’ll sit and talk with her,’ I said. ‘We’ll make sure she knows she’s loved and safe. What else can we do? Hire a Thespian to play Sigmund Freud?’

‘They’d like that.’ Julilla paced the room, tapping her boxing gloves together. ‘Actually, I was wondering if we could bring her up here. It’s pretty and quiet, and away from all the bullshit that goes on downstairs.’

‘True,’ I said, ‘but then we’d need to let Doc up here to treat her, and Mundo and Alex to debrief her, and next thing you know, it’s not our place any more. And once it’s everyone’s place, they’ll trash it like everything else.”

Julilla stopped pacing. ‘I guess you’re right. It would do no good to get her up here only to have it turn into more of what’s down there.’

‘Besides,’ I said, ‘after what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look like she’s up for climbing all those stairs. I’m surprised she made it here at all.’

‘Adrenaline. Fear is an amazing motivator.’

Julilla went on to tell me some stories Alex told her about the heroics of wounded soldiers under survival conditions. He heard the stories in his ROTC classes. I guess this is why neither of them was surprised at May’s injuries, and the fact she walked nearly ten miles to get to us after she blew up her lab and escaped. It took her nearly twenty-four hours of hiding in buildings and sneaking through side streets, but she did it.

She says the Pharms know all about our Telo research. They’re firmly in alliance with the Obits, but are hedging their bets by trying to find the cure on their own, since the Obits cannot or will not give it to them. Of course, a few questions still remain. Is Jay still with the Obits, and if so, whose side is he on? If we fight the Obits, will we have to fight the Pharms, too? And finally, are there really any grownups left alive?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Alex stepped up preparations for the attack, sending messengers to the allied groups throughout the day and night. He gave the twins the address to the rural lab where the children were being taken, allotting them some of their precious gasoline so they could ride their stolen motorcycles. Their investigation resulted in detailed information about the facility, its layout and the number of guards. Even better, Danny produced a series of maps and diagrams from memory, with Danica confirming their accuracy. These they turned over to Alex and Julilla, who pored over them, debating the merits of pincer movements vs. frontal assault. They discussed how the Fresnels could best be deployed, or if they should be used at all. They analyzed the skills and supplies of their soldiers and allies until their heads hurt and they begged Rochelle for something stronger than willow drops.

But their best pain-killers were going to May, now that they had acquired a few from the Thespians. Although May was looking better now — her blisters were deflating and her bleeding had slowed to a spotting, a sullen listlessness had taken hold. She spoke only when spoken to, murmuring no more than a word or two when she chose to answer at all. She refused to eat until pestered, even though they gave her the best food they had. Instead, she spent most of her time staring at the wall, pretending to sleep when anyone came near.

Cassie and Julilla were flummoxed. They sat with May when they could and tried to draw her into conversation, to no avail. They enlisted Alaina’s help, thinking maybe they could talk fashion and jewelry together. But although May listened patiently, she answered in monosyllables and showed no interest in anything related to art. Frustrated, Alaina assigned her students to practice their reading on her, bringing the first sign of emotion anyone had seen when May cursed the little boy stuttering through Green Eggs and Ham and told Alaina she’d rather go back to the Pharms than endure any more “kiddie bedtime stories.” Insulted, Alaina quit sending children to read to her, and May got a little of the peace she craved.

Finally, there came a day when decisions had to be made. Mundo called a meeting on the patio, and this time, David was included so the issue of battlefield supply could be addressed. Cassie tried to ignore the way he stared at her, wondering as she often did why he had told her about Trina. Marsha the Thespian had planted suspicions in her mind, but confronting David was out of the question, since every time she tried to have a few words with him, he turned it into an attempt to get her into bed. Cassie had too much else going on to need that hassle as well. She would have to let some mysteries remain mysteries, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“If the bunker is forty miles away,” David told Alex, “no way can we supply you from here. We’ve got just the one shuttle and not nearly enough gas.”

“It’s too dangerous, anyway,” Julilla said. “Bring war material with you from home, but forage on the enemy.”

“I wish you’d quit quoting that damn book,” Alex said.

“You’re the one who recommended it.”

“Not so you could memorize it and go around quoting it all the time.”

Mundo waved a hand in annoyance. “No fighting. If you can’t save it for the enemy, one of you needs to resign. I won’t have my co-commanders arguing.”

Julilla and Alex exchanged sullen looks and returned to examining the maps. This time, David leaned forward as well, tracing a few paths with a finger. “Acrefield Mall looks like it’s about fifteen miles away. Did the twins get a sense of what condition it was in?”

“Burnt,” Alex said.

“Any schools that maybe still have cafeteria supplies?”

Julilla shrugged. “Who knows?”

“So even if we tried to supply you locally, we wouldn’t know until we got there if it could be done.”

“How is that different from now?” Kayleen asked, looking up from doodling on her notepad with a purple felt tip.

David glared, but Mundo seized on her point. “There’s some truth to that. Supplies are getting harder to find in the city, so it’s not like you’d be working any harder out the sticks. We’ll lay in stock here, and then your team can go with us and work the vicinity.”

“Look,” David said, sitting up straight, “I don’t mind dying, as long as it’s fast and not from the Telo. Getting blown up in an Obit ambush would suit me fine. But where does that leave you guys? Any form of supply that depends on driving in plain sight on known roads is going to be a problem.”

“Supply chain is an army’s weak point,” Alex agreed. “It’s what got Napoleon.”

“I thought winter got Napoleon,” Kayleen said.

“That, too, but it was really–”

“Enough.” Mundo held out his hand for the map and examined it closely. “I know it’s rural, but there’s got to be a way to make this work.”

“Attack fast and get the Obits’ food,” Julilla said, to Alex’s nod of agreement. “It’s the only way.”

“Unless there’s a grain elevator still full somewhere nearby,” Cassie pointed out. “Or livestock still alive — cows or goats or something.”

A slow smile broke over Mundo’s features. “That’s right. You’re the eco-girl with the wilderness skills. How’d we manage to forget that?”

“I don’t have farm skills. I know wild plants and animals, and a little about vegetable gardening. Not food crops and chickens.”

“But plants are plants, right?” Julilla said.

“I guess.” Cassie frowned in thought. “In the garden, seeds often get left behind and grow on their own the next season, so I bet it’s the same with big fields of crops. They’re probably hybrids, but the second generation usually sprouts okay. It’s the third generation that’s the problem.” Seeing the blank stares from the group, she added, “In other words, there may be some wild crops growing, like corn and tomatoes. And then there’s the farmhouses and barns. Barns would’ve had oats and corn before the Telo, if the mice didn’t get it all by now.”

Mundo nodded enthusiastically. “So it’s not crazy that we could forage out there.” He turned to David. “We’ll vet this plan with our allies, but I propose that all allied non-combatants stay here with a guard and as much as we can lay by for them in the way of supplies. You’ll come with us and lead the allied foragers in local scavenging.”

David rubbed his face in frustration. “I’m telling you, man, I wouldn’t know an edible plant from poison ivy.”

“There’s also grain elevators, animals and farmhouses, like Cassie said.”

“And if there’s not?” A wicked grin spread across his face. “Maybe Cassie should be on my forage team.”

“No,” Cassie said, before Mundo had a chance to speak. She fumbled for an answer to his inquisitive look, but could only shake her head.

Julilla came to her rescue. “She’s my lieutenant, and I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to train her. Anyone can tell corn from dandelions. Ask around the alliance for an outdoorsy sort to partner with David.”

“But I want her.”

Cassie felt David’s eyes boring into her. “Forget it.”

She said it with such firm contempt that Mundo motioned for David to let the matter drop. “We’ll find someone to accompany the foragers as a subject matter expert. In the meantime, we need to call the alliance together and finalize our plans.” He looked at Kayleen, who appeared to be more interested in applying sunscreen than writing anything down. “Have you been taking notes, babe?”

Kayleen set the Coppertone aside and picked up her notepad. “Farmhouses, barns, grain elevators and tomatoes. I pay attention.”

“Good. I need you to write the schedule for the final pre-battle meeting of the alliance. Plans to be voted on include the following. . .”

* * *

Although she was hot and out of sorts after sparring with David, Cassie stopped at the clinic to check on how things were going. She found Doc making the ward rounds. “What’s the matter?” she said. “Did you scare all your nurses off for today?”

“Rochelle is here.” He waved Cassie nearer and lowered his voice. “She seems to have gotten through to May. I took over ward duty so she can keep doing whatever it is she’s doing in there.”

Cassie glanced toward the door. “Can I go in?”

Doc shrugged. “It’s been an hour, so it’s worth a try, I guess.”

“I’ll pretend like I’m looking for aspirin.”

The air in the treatment room was stultifying and smelled vaguely of old urine overlaid with alcohol and herbs. It was a confusing odor, not pleasant but not so distasteful that Cassie wanted to bolt. She pretended to look for something in the cabinet, glancing toward the back wall where May lay on her mattress, propped against a stack of pillows, while Rochelle sat beside her nursing the baby. Both girls looked at Cassie, and to her relief, they returned her smile. Rochelle’s was broad and welcoming, and May’s was strained, but it was all the encouragement Cassie needed to join them.

Wisely, Cassie opted not to comment on May’s change in behavior and instead offered her opinion on the weather, the state of the potato garden and the general stuffiness of the hotel. Conversation drifted aimlessly, centered around light, inoffensive topics.

Finally, the baby grew fussy, and Rochelle gathered him close. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take him to the patio for awhile, where it’s cooler.” She looked at May, a question in her eyes.

“Go ahead,” she said. “I’m fine.”

After Rochelle was gone, Cassie asked if she should leave.

May shook her head. “I hear they’re making plans. Tell me.”

Cassie told what she knew of the attack strategy, apologizing that it was all so vague. “We’re going to try to get the alliance leaders together tonight to agree on the final plan. I think we’ll move pretty fast after that. We might be mobilizing as soon as tomorrow.”

“Good. Don’t give the bastards a chance to get any stronger.”

“I wish you were able to go with us.” Cassie held her breath, waiting to see how May would answer the implied question about her health.

“I’ll do what I can around here while you’re gone,” she said. “I’ve been sorry for myself long enough.” Her expression turned grim. “Rochelle told me about Eleven. I need to get well so I can kick his ass.”

“So you’re going to be okay?”

“I guess. I can’t let a kid like Rochelle down. She thinks I’m brave, and she says she wants to be like me.” May motioned with her hand, dismissing the absurd notion.

“But you are brave.”

“Bullshit. I’m the biggest coward there is. But I can fake it. We need to set an example for the younger ones, since they’ll be on their own soon.”

“Maybe not. We’re going to attack the bunker and see if there’s a Telo cure, remember?”

“Yes, the Telo cure.” May settled deeper into the pillows and closed her eyes. “I have a feeling when you get there, it won’t be what you think.”

“What do you mean? Is there something you didn’t tell us?”

“Just a feeling I have.”

“Well, there must be something there, or why all the mystery? Why the kidnappings? Why do the Pharms–”

May jerked her face away at the mention of the Pharms. “You’re right we have to try,” she said. “I just hope this doesn’t turn out to be all ego and wishful thinking.”

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

The plans are made, my gear is packed, and I’m ready to deploy.

Our advance unit from St. Xavier’s found a roadblock on the first route they tried, and they were scared to take the posted detour, for fear it was a trap. The twins scouted us a different route, so that’s the way we’ll head out of the city. It’ll add another five miles to the journey, but it can’t be helped, since the other roads are being monitored. The twins identified safe houses for us, so we’ll have shelter, at least.

Many of us are nervous about getting ambushed. Julilla says we shouldn’t worry because there’s no good place for a battle until we’re almost within sight of the office park where the labs and bunkers are. When we ask Alex if he agrees, he just looks tired and walks away. He’s been working too hard and not sleeping enough, because there are shadows under his eyes and he seems distracted. All the responsibility must be hard on him, since he’s the general for the entire alliance and his only experience is a year of ROTC. But that’s more than any of our other leaders have, which makes him an expert, even though I think Julilla is just as capable. She certainly isn’t running herself into the ground like he is, even though I never see her sleep and she seems to be everywhere at once, giving orders and checking that all is ready.

May is getting around a little, hobbling like an old woman because she’s still in pain. I think the Pharms did things to her that she’s not talking about. But she’s determined to be brave for the sake of Rochelle and all the younger girls being taken advantage of by the boys. She says their lives shouldn’t be defined by sex and violence. She says they need to see that being victimized doesn’t make one a victim.

She’s going to care for the baby so Rochelle can come with us. Poor Rochelle! She can’t bear to be parted from either Doc or the baby, and the confusion on her face was terrible to see. But Doc has been assigned to come with us to handle battlefield injuries, and in the end, puppy love won out over baby love and Rochelle is on our medical team. Doc is happier than seems reasonable, which makes me wonder if he really does love her and is finally figuring it out. May said she was going to plant a few ideas in his head, so maybe she made him see what’s been obvious to the rest of us for a long time.

So we’re set to go, just waiting for word that it’s time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rochelle shook Cassie’s shoulder. When she didn’t respond fast enough, she did it again, harder. “Wake up!”

Cassie sat up with a frown. In the gray light of early morning, she could make out other members of her guard unit still asleep in the dusty schoolroom. There was nothing alarming to see, nor were there any sounds to suggest danger.

Rochelle jerked on her arm with surprising strength. “Hurry.”

Concerned that something big might be happening after all, Cassie scrambled to her feet. But when she reached for a weapon, Rochelle shook her head.

“Just come.”

Curious and a little frightened, she followed Rochelle out of the kindergarten room with its faded finger paintings and construction paper flowers, down the hall to the nurse’s office. At the sight of Alex lying on one of the vinyl beds, her heart sank. He was pale and sweating, his lips cracked and eyes bloodshot. Faint bruises were spreading beneath his skin. Telo.

Julilla was by his side, listening while he mumbled of tactics and weaponry. In another room, Cassie could make out the sound of arguing.

“Don’t be stupid.” Elissa’s haughty tones carried through the walls. “You’ve done it before. Where were your ethics then?”

“I’m trying to do better now,” Doc said.

Mundo’s calmer tones came next. “This is the ethical choice. Lives are at stake. Maybe even the future of the human race.”

“You think the Obits are worried about a few dead kids?” Elissa said. “We can’t be, either.”

“I’ll get David or some other ex-Kevork to handle the killing part. Then you–”

“No.”

“It’s an order.”

“Take my pituitary, then,” Doc said. “I volunteer it.”

“That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

As the conversation shifted to lower tones that Cassie couldn’t make out, she looked at Julilla. “It does kind of make sense.”

“If someone’s volunteering, sure. But no one’s going to offer up their brain,” Julilla said. “Not really.”

“I don’t want somebody’s brain juice,” Alex said, clutching at Julilla’s hand. “You promised me.”

“They won’t do it,” she reassured him.

“They did it to Zach.”

“They won’t do it to you. I’ll kill them first.”

Rochelle had been standing with her ear pressed against the door, but now she moved away. “He’s still saying no. And he’s the only one besides May who knows how.”

Alex was reassured, but only for a minute. “Kill me,” he told Julilla. “That way we can be sure.”

“But we are sure. No one’s going to inject you with brain hormone.”

“Then do it so I won’t be left behind.”

All three girls stared, not comprehending.

“Our army has to make the next camp tomorrow. We’ve got allied units skirmishing to keep the road clear, but they can’t hold off the Pharms forever, and you can’t hole up here and wait for me die. Shoot me like you promised you would.”

Julilla’s lips turned ashen, as if she might faint. “No,” she said. “We’ll keep you here under guard while the rest of us move forward. That way, if we find a cure in the Obit bunker–”

Cassie counted on her fingers. “If we get there tomorrow and the battle is the next day, and if they do have a cure–”

“Three days at the outside,” Julilla agreed. “You can hold on that long.”

“If you get there tomorrow and if you’re ready to engage the enemy the following day, and if the battle doesn’t turn into a siege, and if you win, and then if they even have a cure. . .” Alex frowned, and a rivulet of blood escaped a tear duct. He wiped it away in annoyance. “That’s too many ifs. Meanwhile, if I’m back here behind enemy lines. . .”

“They might capture and torture him,” Cassie reminded Julilla.

“It’s a chance we have to take. We might have a cure in a few days.” She gave Alex a stern look. “You’re a fighter. Fight.”

“Julilla, love–”

The door of the other room opened, and Mundo and Elissa sullenly filed out, with Doc following in an attitude of self-righteous victory. While Elissa stormed out the door of the nurse’s clinic, Mundo approached Alex’s bedside. “I’m trying to get you some help. Doc won’t do it, but we’ll find someone else, and then after we get the cure–”

Alex sank deeper into his pillow. “I don’t want some dead person’s brain bits in me. Can’t you respect that?”

“Not when the future of humanity is at stake.”

“Julilla can command the troops.”

“Ours, yes. They know and respect her.” Mundo looked Julilla up and down. “But the whole allied army? It would have to be put to a vote, and no way would they elect a girl.”

While Julilla bristled, Alex shook his head, more blood running out of his eyes, which Rochelle hurried to dab with a clean piece of gauze. “They’ll vote for her because I trained her.”

“The Thespians would vote for me,” Julilla said. “Who do you think kept those chickenshits from running away when we went after the Christian Soldiers?”

“Elissa wants her man Jason in charge, if we can’t have Alex,” Mundo said with a gesture of annoyance. “He’s got a totally different plan for this fight.”

“And it’s a dumb one.”

“Exactly.” Mundo looked down at Alex. “So we’re going to get you well for the battle, and that’s the end of it. If you want to off yourself afterwards, that’s your business.”

Mundo stomped out of the room, leaving Cassie, Julilla and Doc staring at each other while Rochelle took advantage of the clinic’s ample supplies to start giving Alex an alcohol rub-down for his fever.

“We can’t let him do it,” Julilla said. “It’s not what he wants.”

“I doubt he’ll find anyone else in the alliance who can perform the procedure,” Doc assured her.

“I wonder if we should take that chance.” Cassie darted a glance toward Alex who appeared worn out by the conversation.

“There’s only one thing he said he wanted,” Julilla said, staring at her hands in resignation. “Growth hormone treatment doesn’t work once you’re dead.”

“I could ask David to do it,” Doc offered. “It wouldn’t be a big deal to a Kevork.”

“No,” Julilla sighed. “We had an agreement. So if you could just keep everyone out of the area so he won’t know for sure who did it. . .”

Cassie and Doc made their goodbyes to Alex, and Rochelle capped the bottle of alcohol and put it away. As the three walked into the hall looking for places to station themselves, Doc wondered aloud why Julilla had insisted on doing the execution herself.

“Didn’t you hear?” Rochelle said. “He called her ‘love.’”

“You don’t think–?” Cassie began.

The sound of the gunshot silenced her.

Excerpt from Cassie’s journal:

Julilla is our new commander, but it wasn’t without a fight. The alliance leaders and senior officers gathered in the school cafeteria and argued for hours. Mundo supported Julilla, but I suspect it was only because he had no one else trained for the job, and naturally, we want one of our own in the top position. He didn’t dare offer his own services because of all the infighting. There are some tribal leaders who think he has too much personal influence.

Other candidates for the command were Jason from the Thespians, whose only qualification is his status as an Eagle Scout, and Neal from the City Hall group, who was even worse. He cited having read One Hundred Years of Sea Power as a qualification. Julilla suggested he be put in charge of the navy, and got a lot of laughs.

In the end, Julilla was given the supreme command, and her first act was to announce that all plans would move forward as previously agreed, with one exception. She put me in charge of the flank she would’ve led under Alex. Mundo was pissed but kept a neutral attitude while we were all together. Meanwhile, I was in a panic. What do I know about leading people? Will they even listen to me?

Mundo said as much after we went to our rooms. ‘Just say the word, and I’ll make sure someone else gets put in charge of the back lines,’ Mundo said. ‘There’s no shame in refusing the command. It’s your first battle.’

‘And she’ll do fine,’ Julilla snapped. She looked at me. ‘So do you want it or not?’

With both of them staring at me, I couldn’t make my thoughts quit spinning. Back at the hotel, I had longed to fight. I was angry and wanted to prove myself. But out here, facing the real threat of pain, death and failure, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to fight at all, let alone hold the back lines where it would be my job to keep people from running. I understood my duties, but would I be able to keep my head in a fight and not run off, myself?

‘We haven’t got all night,’ Julilla reminded me.

I lifted my chin and in a voice I hardly recognized as my own, I told her, ‘I can do it.’

Chapter Twenty-Five

Cassie and Julilla walked the campsite, talking of strategy. Th