It took awhile to cut a hole big enough for Orpheus to slither in. Though it was completely dark inside, the denner moved quickly between the taut pink material and the walls of the house, and called back when he’d found a path for Toby to worm through. That was the claustrophobic part; he always had one or two moments when he was sure he’d become stuck. He’d be found, years from now, mummified against the side of the house like a squashed cockroach. Tonight was okay: he reached a window in a couple of minutes, and with a little prying got the old-fashioned thing open. Orpheus flowed inside; Toby got in by falling noisily.
After cursing and dusting himself off, he finally lit his windup flashlight and took a look around. The silence in here was disturbing, especially after the cacophony of the night. The air was stale but breathable. The rooms on the main floor were empty except for a few big heavy crates that were also plastic wrapped. Lifeless bots were chained together in places. He barely glanced at them. As soon as he found the stairs to the house’s lower core, he put on his glasses and went down.
The hibernation chamber was a concrete bunker with a vaultlike door. The edges of that door were sealed with rubber caulking, which he peeled away with a knife. While he did that, he pinged the chamber’s systems through the glasses.
After the third ping, a wire-frame diagram of the vault’s interior blossomed in his glasses’ display. It showed three cicada beds. All were occupied; all stasis indicators were green.
He read the names. The first he didn’t know; the second, he frowned at. He sighed with relief when he saw the third.
With a command through his McGonigal account, he ordered this bed to wake its occupant. Then he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Orpheus came up, and Toby scrunched his ears and playfully wobbled his head.
“Okay, Orph. This is home for a couple days. Might as well make ourselves comfortable.”
He got up again, leaving the backpack by the door, and went to see if he could unwrap a couch to sleep on.
“AM I THE FIRST one up? Where is everybody?” Corva stumbled into the living room, wearing a long ratty housecoat, her hair a tangled nest.
She froze when she saw Toby.
He’d cleared a couch and was sitting with Orpheus in the light of his flashlight. Now that she’d seen them, Toby let Orpheus go and the denner ran to her. Corva knelt, opening her arms to him. Wrecks was still asleep in her bed.
“They were watching us,” he said. The words just hung in the air between them; her expression didn’t change.
“Watching us and listening. You didn’t seriously think we could talk about anything at the lake without the government and your brother’s friends hearing every word?”
Corva stood up and went to the blank window. “We’re off frequency. You woke me up … Halen’s still downstairs. Are you going to wake him up, too?”
“That’s up to you.” He sat forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you what I was planning. I had to make it seem like I was going along with them, and I knew that Halen, at least, would be watching you to see if I was faking. You couldn’t know that I was. I did it because I … I was afraid they’d neuroshackle me and turn me into their puppet if I refused. Or worse—do that to you to force my compliance.”
She sucked in a quick breath. “Halen would never—”
“Are you sure about that? You know I got a message from Shy at turn’s end. Shy said he’d tried to get to you, he was going to ask you to winter over with him instead of with your family. He couldn’t get near you, but he did talk to Halen. You brother said he’d pass the message along. Did he?”
She started to protest, but the words didn’t seem to be coming. The certain fury that had been on her face a moment ago had disappeared. She turned away.
“Neither of us knows Halen.” He glared at her; he wasn’t going to relent now. “Time stole the brother you knew, just like it stole mine. Who can we trust? Certainly not those scheming, spoiled brats I apparently have to call my family. If I can’t trust my own brother and sister not to try and kill me, why should I trust yours? Why should you, when he’s years away from the person you knew? And anyway, there’s the government. They claim to be all democratic and rights respecting, but what do I know? You said it yourself when we met. I don’t even know what I don’t know.”
She traced her fingers down the blank glass of the window. “What have you done?”
“Nothing. Not yet. I’m going to take care of Evayne, but I’m going to do it my way, not theirs. Not as the … the messiah of the locksteps, or whatever they’re trying to call me. Not as some god returned from an eternal sleep.
“I’ll do it as her brother.”
She turned to look at him now, but with less suspicion in her eyes. “How?”
“I know her.” He stood up and came to her hesitantly. She didn’t back away. Encouraged, he said, “I read the histories and I saw the strategies and tactics she’s used. It’s exactly how she played Consensus, and how she was with Peter and me. The thing is, nobody’s ever provoked her in the right way. But I know how. I know how to push her buttons.”
“Why?” Corva shook her head. “Why make her mad? Won’t she just retaliate?”
“That’s the thing. We’re not going to give her anything to retaliate against. She’ll hate that.”
“But she’s threatened the whole population!”
Toby snorted. “Bluff. She’s never followed through on a threat like that. If you check the histories, you’ll see. She’s got some sense of justice, though she tries to hide it. She only strikes against those who are directly responsible for stuff. And in this case, that’s just me.”
“Just you? What are you—are you alone?”
“Except for a few defense force pickets, you and I are the only people in the world who’re awake right now. Maybe the only people in the whole lockstep. Unless you tell me you want me to wake Halen now. If you do, I will.”
Now she did back away. “But why did you even wake me? After everything—”
“Same reason I’ll wake your brother if you tell me to. Because I trust you. You’re the only one I trust.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, I know. But this’ll probably help.” He held out his glasses. Corva looked at them dubiously.
“What’s in there?”
“The recording I made of the talk I had with Evayne when she first got here. I think you should see it … if you want to understand what it means to be a McGonigal.”
Corva was staring at the glasses as if they were some sort of poisonous snake. Then, reluctantly, she took them from Toby and put them on.
SHE WORE WHITE THIS time. The resemblance to Mom was still uncanny, and Toby’s stomach had knotted the instant he saw her, but he’d been determined to not let his anxiety show. “Hey, sis. Welcome to Thisbe. I guess you’re coming in to land?”
It was a warm evening and he was sitting under a giant oak tree on the edge of the capital city. Thisbe’s Internet was awake, so it had been easy for Toby to route the call from his glasses to a transmitter halfway around the planet. Before he’d donned the glasses to make the call, he’d watched as one after another, reentry trails from his sister’s ships had scored bright lines across the dimming sky.