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Oh, too late for that, I thought.

I closed my eyes again and concentrated on drawing air into my lungs, consciously trying to slow my breathing down. Now, when you open your eyes, Zara, look around. Look for a way out. I forced my injured hand flat on the metal bed beneath me, the pain helping me stay focused, then I opened my eyes. I was indeed in the Awakening Chamber in one of the stasis, or rather, growth tanks, a place where many people, well, many 215

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scientists, would have killed to have been. The irony of it would have made me laugh, but I bit my lip to keep the hysteria in check. Above me, just as I had expected, I could see only the white ceiling, and on either side of me, more tanks. But the one directly in line in front of mine and its neighbor in the next row were now occupied. I scooted down to the end of my tank for a closer look. Neither of them appeared to be filled with fluid yet. I couldn't see faces, though; the angle was wrong and the light glared off the glass. But in the tank in front of mine, I could see a white blonde head, long hair tangled and tossed over a shoulder. Namere. In the tank across the aisle from Namere, broad shoulders pressed against the glass, like it was a tight fit. That could only be Thane. I shouted their names and rapped my hand on the top of the tank, but neither of them responded.

Namere? Caelan? Anybody?
No one responded that way either.

My stomach twisted. I'd led them here. If they were already gone, taken from their minds, it would be my fault.

"No." I shook my head. I wouldn't let it happen, not this easily. If anyone was out there still to be saved, I had to get out of here. I turned on my side and began searching for the release button Caelan had shown me. It was in here somewhere. Near where the glass met the metal bed, I remembered. And shinier than the rest of the metal.

I found the release on the left side, just a few inches from where my shoulder had been upon awakening. I held my breath, then pushed the button, waiting for that familiar whirring sound. Nothing.

I pushed it again. Still nothing. "Shit." I jabbed at the button repeatedly. Nothing, nothing, nothing...

"Let me out of here!" I tried to sound angry and authoritative, but it came out like the demand of a frightened kid.

"Ms. Mitchell, so glad to see you are finally awake." 216

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I froze, mid-push on the button. The voice was distorted and very faint, but I had no problem recognizing it. A gray blur appeared off to one side of my tank. Nevan was wearing his gray suit again.

Without thinking, I lashed out at him, punching at the top of the tank like I could reach through it to get him and beat him until he bled. The cover cracked, a faint spider web spreading across the glass, and Nevan took a step back.

"Impressive," he said. "I wondered about the extent of your capabilities. I don't know how she saved you, though frankly, her methods and motives are of little interest to me. Except when they interfere with mine." He stepped closer and traced the cracking on the glass above me. "And you, Ms. Mitchell, have been quite troublesome."

"Bite me," I said through gritted teeth. I was torn between letting fly with another punch and asking him about her. But in the end, I couldn't do either. Punching the glass would only use more of Caelan's power and asking Nevan about the mysterious female would only let him know he had the same hold over me that he had over the others–information.

"Let me out of here." I stabbed at the button again to make my point.

"Yes, I wondered if they'd shown you that. Marvelous trick, disabling that mechanism. Dreadfully easy–she was quite right about that," he said.

"What do you want from us?"

"I want only for order to be returned."

"You mean you want to suck their brains dry and turn them into flesh and blood robots, like Slick and the others," I snapped.

"If you are referring to the D462's, those that you encountered outside, then yes. But that is their natural state."

"Bullshit," I shouted.

He leaned over my tank, as if deliberately tempting me to 217

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come after him. But I knew better than to give in. He had something in mind.

One of Slick's drones came up behind him, evidently answering a call from Nevan that I had not heard. When she–the drone was one of the females–reached my tank, she turned her back toward me. Nevan reached over and yanked her green tunic upward. There, in the center of her lower back, a tattoo of a planet on fire. The same tattoo that Caelan had on his back.

"No." I sank back to the floor of my tank.

"You forget, Ms. Mitchell, that you are a relative newcomer to this situation. I was there when they first drew breath," he said.

"When they were born?"

"When they were created. They were manufactured, not born, specifically for this mission. We built them, gene by gene, for this purpose...just like you." He tapped on the glass with one finger to emphasize those three little words.

"I don't understand," I whispered.

He sighed, seeming impatient now. "Of course not. I told her that from the beginning. Your human component was far too high to be successful in a combat–"

"What?"

"It's very simple," he said with exaggerated slowness. "The humans have something we want. We needed a way to obtain it without raising their suspicion."

"You're here. That's enough," I said. He shrugged. "For some. Yet using subtlety and attractive faces, like those of the D462s and D475s, we have accomplished much in the years we have been here. Far more than others who might have pointed weapons and forced retaliation with human nuclear missiles."

"Others?" I asked. Condensation from my breath had settled on the glass around me, almost clouding Nevan from view.

"The others competing, of course."

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"For what?"

He looked down at me, disdain for my apparent lack of intelligence clear on his face. "For this planet and its resources. To have a planet with a ready made source of labor and products to be sold is a prize far beyond any other."

"What, is this some kind of gold rush? Manifest destiny, all that other crap..." I stopped, a horrible thought occurring. "You're here to take over, colonize." Not far from what we'd done here on Earth. Found a place that had something we wanted, gold, slaves, land, and took over, either by some good trades or by force. He waved a hand, dismissing my words. "We have no interest in actively governing your planet. Merely that you would provide us with goods, services, and resources in exchange for our protection."

"They'll never go for that," I said instantly.

"They will if lives are threatened from another, as you say, extraterrestrial source." He raised an eyebrow at me.

"But how would you know that..." I stared up at him. "You're going to set us up. Arrange an attack and step in as the big heroes."

"It worked before to allow us to land here. It will work again," he said.

"You guys set off the missiles." I sat back, so stunned I momentarily forgot about being trapped in a small space.

"Human suspicion would not allow us to gain trust any other way." He shrugged again. "This time we will offer protection first, and let them decide. If they turn it down, then we will proceed as planned."

"And if they don't accept then, even after you stage this attack?"

"They will."

"If they don't," I insisted.

"Then they will see what D462s and the D475s were truly 219

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created for. The ability to read minds, to arm or disarm nuclear weapons, to move aside barriers or stop bullets in mid-air, to burn alive those who dare protest." He smiled. "It gives me pleasure just thinking of it."

"You bastard." I slammed my fist into the top of the tank. Little bits of glass fell in with me. Nevan stepped back.

"I do hope you are not considering a violent means of escape, Ms. Mitchell. It is unfortunate that whatever transformation you have undergone to give you this strength has also rendered your mind closed to me." He gave an elegant shrug. "However, if you are considering such an option, let me help you in that decision. All of the growth modules are connected to one central source of power and programming, which I control."

"Which means," he said, moving forward and leaning over my tank again, "I can flood the modules with fluid before you have a chance to strike again. It's a blend of water and various nutrients. Quite healthy, but difficult to breathe." I lowered my fist, pushing back against the power, swallowing it down. Even if he was lying about having that kind of control, I didn't know how much power it would take to get out. It might kill Caelan, if he was still alive. I assumed he was because I was still breathing.

Nevan continued. "And in the event that you are in need of further convincing, your human brother, Scott, lies in one of those tanks just ahead of you."

I scrambled over to the end of the tank, straining to see out. I could see nothing more than I had before. I slid back to the side of the tank where Nevan stood. "What do you want?"

"Answers, Ms. Mitchell. What have you done to D4751, the one called Caelan? He lies so close to death that I cannot put him in a module. The process would kill him."

"Leave him alone," I said.

"There is no time for your lack of cooperation." He looked up 220

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to the ceiling. A grinding sound came from nearby, then I heard the rush of running water. Something slid open behind me, and I turned to see blue fluid pouring into my tank and the tanks of those around me as well. I pulled myself into the far end of the tank, away from the fluid. "All right, all right," I said. "But I can't tell you, I have to show you. I can reverse it, I think." That was a blatant lie, but drowning in here wasn't going to help anyone. Nevan wasn't looking to kill me yet, but he would get to it. I couldn't do anything to help myself or anyone else from here.

"I don't think that would be a wise course of action," he said.

"Look, I'm not going anywhere, right? You've got my brother and my..." I stopped myself before I could find a word to categorize Caelan and the others. They weren't friends, exactly. Caelan was more and the others less, but I wouldn't leave any of them here, even Asha.

"Yes, the D462's did report what appeared to be a bond between all of you, a sense of team. That is, of course, until they turned on you."

The memory of Asha, Thane and Namere lashing out at me with power made me flinch–Asha had picked that moment to stage a rebellion and succeeded because I'd been distracted, caring for one over the others.

"It only proves my point. Left to their own devices, they are much too unpredictable. They are tools of little intellect, programmed for self-preservation, not friendship. They must be firmly controlled. Something of which you seem incapable." Tools. Programmed. I stared up at Nevan. True, they weren't human, not entirely, not even as much as I was, but that didn't mean they weren't people. He didn't agree–maybe I could use that.

"Look, all I want to do is get my brother and get out of here. Now that I know what's going on, what...I am, I want nothing to do with any of this. I'll help you if you let me and my brother go home." My voice broke at the idea of leaving them, especially Caelan, 221

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behind, but Nevan didn't have to know that. And it was true–I wanted nothing more than to leave this place, just not alone. He stared down at me, trying to evaluate my sincerity. At least I had one big advantage in that he couldn't read my mind anymore. I didn't know why that was–Caelan and the others could read me, so maybe whatever blocked their minds off to him, now blocked mine as well.

"Very well." He stepped back. The fluid stopped pouring. It was almost three inches deep, probably covering the ears of those lying down. "But I must warn you, should I sense even the slightest threat against myself or the security of the D475's, I will flood the modules."

I nodded. "Yes, yes, I understand." He stepped forward and pressed something on the outside of the tank, probably the other button Caelan had shown me before and the glass began to rotate, disappearing into the metal base. Nevan stepped back as the fluid began to pour out onto floor. As soon as the tank was open far enough, I squeezed myself through, my shoes sliding on the slippery floor and my sodden jeans weighing me down.

I moved toward Nevan, and he stepped back. "Remember, Ms. Mitchell, we have an agreement. You tell me what I need to know to repair D4751 and you and the human are free to go."

"You would do that?" I asked. No, he wouldn't, but I wanted to hear what he would say.

He shrugged. "With the D475's back under my control, you are no longer of any threat to me, the supposed prophecy cannot come true."

I took a step forward without thinking. "You know about the prophecy, how?"

His face tightened. "There is no true prophecy, other than the one to be fulfilled by those who believe it to be so." I raised my eyebrows.

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"You are here because she put words in their heads, images of you. In their efforts to make sense of their own existence, one or more of them perceived what she'd done as truth." He stepped closer to me, a horrible smile pulling at his mouth. "There is no prophecy, no destiny. Just the orders she gave and their ingrained compulsion to follow them."

"Who is she?"

The smile vanished from his face. "No more questions."

"But–"

A gurgling sound surrounded me and for one horrible, heartpounding moment, I thought he'd drowned everyone. But when I looked around, I found it was only the sound of the fluid pushing out air bubbles in the tubing and resuming its flow into the tanks again. "Okay, okay." I raised my shaking hands, palms up. "No more questions, I got it."

He nodded, but I didn't look away from the tanks–I stood between Namere and Thane–until I saw the fluid stop again. Namere's white blonde hair turned sky blue where it touched the liquid, and the liquid was much higher in Thane's tank, nearly to his nose, because of his larger size.