The most vocal defector was Xin Gomez, one of the three aides who always trotted at Kaori’s heels like trained hypoallergenic dogs. I knew that we’d beefed up security since Kaori rolled the Envisioner out of the closet. But this place was still a research lab, not a military base—a fact she’d used to trumpet as a strength because their decisions weren’t made by men in uniforms who got stiffies off a little power play.

“We’ve done the evac drills,” Kaori said. “Those who don’t want to stay and secure the Theater can take the tunnels to the bunker and wait out an emergency pickup. Reinforcements are on their way. More security drones are already lifting off.” She paused, and I could see in her eyes that she was holding back. “But the timing will be tight.”

I watched this all from faraway, through a pair of binoculars as I drifted through a frigid sea on a sledge of ice. Shivering, and with hope shrinking away. I had to jam up the courage to look at the tattoo down my thumb to remind myself. YOU ARE HERE.

“And the box? We roll it out through the tunnels?” Xin challenged.

“There are a dozen barriers between the Theater and the front door,” Kaori said. “Locked gates. Foot-thick reinforced steel. The safest spot on the continent is behind these walls.”

And here, fate scooped up the dice, winking at the challenge with a cooed oh, honey.

The white coat by Yusuf broke off and darted to a panel on one of the walls.

“We’ve got them on satellite,” the guy said.

Another one of the screens over the Envisioner shifted to a feed of ants crawling the red desert. He zoomed in on the ants to show that they were actually a fleet of pickups and some squat tank with a roof-mounted gun at the lead. Another wave came into view, through clouds of red dust. Then another.

Civilians with pitchforks my ass. That was an armed militia.

*   *   *

Captain Kaori was going down with her ship—she didn’t say that exactly, but she was staying in the Theater. Yusuf too. I wasn’t going to high-tail it outta there and leave him behind. He knew that and was smart enough not to push.

More than ever, I was sure that the footage of the riot I’d seen in Figueiredo’s universe—where he and Tiago chatted in his office before running the halls—was a premonition.