“We almost did,” Manny says. “We debated for days. Even after we were full speed into our plan, we continued to debate. But I think we made the right decision.”

“How do you figure?” Tanq says.

“Well, first of all, we didn’t want to cause panic.”

“Like the panic that ensued when everyone started dying?” I practically yell. “You mean that panic?”

“No,” Manny says calmly. “I mean a different kind entirely. The kind where people who have access to a nuclear arsenal and nerve gas and weapons of mass destruction panic and think they can contain an alien virus by bombing it into submission.”

The thought of nuclear bombs makes me fall silent, but I’m still seething.

“Our president at the time had already bungled a pandemic,” Manny adds. “And we were concerned that he would do everything in his power to save his family and billionaire friends—and no one else.”

“Wow, you didn’t even tell the president,” Tanq says.

“We did not. It was a time of growing autocracy all across the world. We felt strongly that several world leaders had the potential to respond with excessive force. So the congresswoman built a secret coalition of politicians, scientists, and business leaders—those she knew she could trust—and no one else.”

“How did you pull the resources together to manufacture the vaccines?” Trey asks, his voice softer than before. “If each one cost hundreds of millions . . .”

“We took money wherever we could find it. We diverted funds from the science budget, the defense budget. We got dark money from the Ways and Means Committee. We made deals with private investors, inside the US and out. We made compromises. For example, the owner of some acreage we needed outside Toluca, Mexico, got a vaccine in exchange for funding the construction of an underground facility. The facility itself cost less than the vaccine, but we were able to accomplish it in secret with very little red tape, which saved us years of time.” Manny’s eyes grow distant. “Maybe he’s alive down there right now. I hope he kept his word to broadcast and attract survivors.”

Emmaline has given up on begging more breakfast tidbits, though I suspect Tanq and Trey both helped fill her belly, and now she noses around the hexagonal room, sniffing every bit of furniture or electronics.

“A facility like this one?” I ask. “How many are there? Are they all broadcasting?”

He points at me, saying, “A very smart question, and I’m so glad you asked.”

Emmaline whimpers.

“Before we get into that,” I say, “is there a place I can take my dog potty?”

Manny appears vaguely disappointed to have his lecture interrupted, but he says, “There’s an egress tunnel behind the kitchen. It’ll dump you out near the yacht club. Lots of trees for cover there, but you still have to be very, very careful.”

“I’ll show her,” Wyatt says, standing from the table.