“He’s not just mentally damaged,” said Samm, “he’s a paranoid bomber that we can’t control or predict. If we take him out into the wasteland, he’s as likely to kill us as anything is to kill him.”

“What are our other options?” asked Kira. “We can’t just ask Morgan, A because she’s evil, and B because she doesn’t know anything about me or expiration or the Failsafe. If we could find Nandita that’d be great, but the entire Long Island population’s been looking for her for months and she’s nowhere.”

“We could talk to Trimble,” said Samm, “assuming B Company doesn’t kill us on sight.”

“Assuming there’s anything left of B Company at all,” said Heron. “Morgan’s been recruiting them in droves. But Trimble isn’t connected to the pheromones or the Failsafe or the expiration, at least not according to anything in the records you showed us. She won’t know anything more than Morgan.”

Kira’s eyes widened. “You know where Trimble is?”

“She’s in charge of B Company,” said Samm. “She and Morgan have been the main face of the Trust for years—now we know she’s not just a messenger, she’s apparently one of them.”

“B Company hates D Company,” said Heron. “Most of the civil war you’ve seen here on the mainland is a war between them.”

Kira grimaced. “Saving the world would be a lot easier if the people we’re trying to save would stop killing each other.”

Afa’s door opened slightly farther, and he peeked one eye out. “You didn’t say anything about Nostromo-7s, so I assume you don’t know how to get past one. I do.”

Samm looked at him and whispered softly, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“He’s a good man,” said Kira.

“He’s insane.”

“I know that,” hissed Kira. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but what else are we supposed to do?” She looked at Heron. “Can you actually do any of that stuff you were talking about? Do you even know anyone who can? Afa’s unpredictable, yes, I admit that, but when his mind is working right, he’s positively brilliant.”

“When his mind is working right,” said Samm.

“So we watch him,” said Kira. “We keep him away from weapons, we keep him away from anything that explodes, we do whatever it takes to keep him happy and lucid and friendly.” She paused. “It’s the only way we’re ever going to find the information we need.”

The Partials stared at her. Samm turned to face the street. “We’ll need horses.”

“We can make better time on foot,” said Heron.

“You and I can,” said Samm, “not Kira and definitely not Afa. Listening to him breathe, he’s at least three hundred pounds.”

Kira raised an eyebrow. “You can tell his weight from his breathing?”