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"You were true to your word." Mara Bishop looks at me with glassy eyes, remaining in her father's embrace. "I'll help you any way I can."

Months ago, when I was first put in contact with Mara through Captain Mutegi's connections inside Eurasia, she seemed resistant. She did not believe I was from the Sectors, and she refused to believe her father was still alive—until I convinced her via a holographic transmission, showing James Bishop standing beside me. She demanded to see him in person, and we agreed on a meeting. But she would have to escort Chancellor Hawthorne to this predesignated cube complex, where her father would be waiting.

All of the residents are support staff for various office buildings in Dome 1, and none of them have any official government associations. Even so, we are too exposed standing in this hallway.

I gesture toward the open door. "Let's go inside. We have much to discuss."

James cups the back of his daughter's bald head with one hand. "What happened to your hair, Sweetie?" He doesn't seem to notice her uniform with its high-ranking insignia. "It was always so pretty." He catches himself. "My beautiful girl. You look so much like your mother…"

Mara kisses his cheek.

"You told us he was dead." Emmanuel stares at the Chancellor in disbelief, everything he thought he knew about the world unraveling around him. "A Eurasian hero, that's what you called him. And our mother, she never knew the truth… You lied to all of us!"

"I would be very careful, if I were you." Hawthorne's voice is sharp with an undeniable edge of authority. "Both of you." She looks only at Emmanuel and Mara. For the moment, the rest of us do not exist. "If it were not for me, you would never have enjoyed your current stations in Dome 1. Unless you no longer wish to continue serving Eurasia as you have for the past decade, you would do well to remember that." She points at James, then sweeps her arm toward Milton and me without deigning to give us eye contact. "These men are infected. They have come from outside the Domes to destroy our way of life. There is only one thing for you to do here, and that is to contain the situation until we can summon a troop of security personnel to take them into custody." She lowers her voice. "Remember who you are and whom you serve. Extricate yourselves from these men, and I will forget any minor transgressions that may have occurred—including this moment."

Expressionless as stone, Mara nods toward the cube's interior. "After you, Chancellor. Let's hear what they have to say."

The cube is cramped, but we manage to squeeze inside in a semblance of a circle. The Chancellor wrinkles her nose with disgust but sits on the bed; Mara takes the only chair; Emmanuel, his father, Milton, and I seat ourselves cross-legged on the floor. It escapes no one's attention that Mara is the only one armed. Her hand remains within reach of her holster at all times. As the cube door slides shut and locks itself automatically behind me, I give Milton a look, and he nods. Despite the warm family reunion, we should remain cautious. Mara is not one of us, not yet.

"How many of you are there?" Chancellor Hawthorne demands, glaring at me. "What is your purpose here?"

Milton and James defer to me; Mara and Emmanuel watch everything closely, noting every subtle cue. They are being cautious as well.

"Hundreds of us were sealed inside underground bunkers while the powers of the world destroyed our planet," I begin. "For twenty years we lived beneath the surface, trapped between cold concrete walls, floors, and ceilings. We read, and we studied, exercising our minds and our bodies. We prepared ourselves for All-Clear, when we would be released to rebuild and start a new life together. We would rise from the ashes and repopulate the Sectors, and again our continent would provide everything the United World needed in order to live in the luxury they had grown accustomed to. Or so we were told."

"Eurasia," Hawthorne snaps. "There is no United World."

"When we saw what had become of the Sectors, we assumed there was no world left at all. We thought we were the last human beings in existence, and that our daily fight for survival against the elements—and against mutants intent on devouring us—was necessary to safeguard humankind." I pause, glancing at Milton. "But we were not alone in our struggle. A supernatural presence made itself known to us shortly after our return to the surface: spirits of the earth that moved through the dust, empowering us with amazing abilities from the animal kingdom once we breathed the particulate matter into our lungs. We were changed, and these changes aided us in our survival."

Hawthorne scoffs, glancing at Emmanuel and Mara. "Why are you subjecting us to such a ridiculous fairy tale? Obviously you're out of your mind—as is anyone who gives credence to your ramblings."

I had a feeling she would respond this way. Long ago, my talons would have been proof enough of a supernatural gift. But we have another powerful visual aid.

"Milton." I give him a nod.

"Right." He sits up straight, assuming a very serious expression. Even though there is some grey at his temples now and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, he overflows with as much youthful vigor as when I first met him. "So, these spirits of the earth can appear to some of us as people from our past. No idea why they choose certain individuals to reveal themselves to. Honestly, I kind of wish they'd leave me alone. But anyhow, here we are." He clears his throat, glancing at the Chancellor. "You asked how many of us there are, and of course we're not going to tell you that. But you should know that I smuggled somebody along inside me."

Hawthorne stares at him in the silence. "What?"

"The spirits. They wanted to hitch a ride

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