Aggarwal spoke again. “Through a humanitarian exception. We’re granting the children you brought with you special refugee status. And as you, Ms Cataranes, and you, Mr Lane, have just been appointed their legal guardians, we have determined that extraditing either of you to the United States would create an unacceptable hardship.”

Sam exhaled, tension suddenly evaporating.

The woman next to Aggarwal spoke up. “The three of you ought to thank those children,” she said, “because they’ve just saved your lives.”

“Damn,” Kade said when they were alone. “Not leaving Copenhagen.”

“Hey,” Feng said. “We’re alive! It’s great!”

“They have to leave Copenhagen,” Kade replied.

Sam shook her head.

“The kids are safe,” she said. “That’s all that matters to me.”

“May I interrupt?” a lighthearted voice said from the door. “Or would you prefer more time for misery?”

She turned, and there was a man there, a man she hadn’t seen in months. Old, wizened, bald-headed, with a small smile playing across a face as tranquil as any she’d ever known. He stood in saffron robes, his hands clasped together in front of him. And even without the Nexus in her brain, something about his presence loosened something inside her.

She found herself on her feet, and he was entering, embracing her, embracing Feng, embracing Kade, a group of monks following behind him.

“It’s wonderful to see you all again,” Ananda said.

And Sam felt the same.

Kade leaned back into the seat of the Tata sedan, as the green trees of New Delhi went by. The streets were wider and more serene than he’d imagined, the traffic more orderly, at least in this part of the city. This wasn’t Bangkok.

They were on the move, at last, out of the three day holding pattern. The Indian government hadn’t left Copenhagen, hadn’t taken Kade up on his offer to help. Despite that, they’d arranged housing for Kade and Feng and Sam, and all the children.

I don’t understand, he sent to Ananda.

Politics move slowly, the monk sent back. You asked them to make a momentous decision. That can’t happen so quickly.

Kade shook his head in frustration.

Did you really swear at one of the Prime Minister’s aides? Ananda asked. Did you really blackmail her?

Kade pursed his lips and nodded. I went too far.

Ananda threw his head back and laughed out loud. You misunderstand, he sent back. To my dismay, you seem to have become an effective politician. You’ve accelerated things. Things will now happen more quickly.

How much more quickly?

Ananda shrugged and smiled. Months? Weeks? He sent. Policies have inertia. Change takes time to build.

Kade tried to absorb that. Did they have months? What had happened in the world in the three days he’d been locked up?

He turned back to Ananda. Teacher, he sent. What’s brought you here?