“Easy, Afa,” said Kira, taking the saddle from him as gently as she could. His agitation was spreading to the horses, and Samm did his best to keep them calm. “Come here,” she said, taking the big man’s hand and leading him back to the fire. “Tell me about your collection.”

“You’ve seen it,” he said, “but you didn’t see all of it. You didn’t see the sound room.”

“I loved the sound room,” she said, keeping her voice soothing. “That’s where you had all the ParaGen emails.” She kept him talking, hoping the topic would cheer him up, and after nearly half an hour he seemed to calm down. She laid out his bedroll, and he slept with his arms around the backpack like a teddy bear.

“He’s getting worse,” said Samm again.

“Which is impressive,” said Heron, “considering how bad he was to begin with.”

“I’m taking care of him,” said Kira. “He’ll make it to Chicago.”

“You’re talking as if the worst that can happen is he falls apart and turns useless,” said Heron. “I’m expecting him to snap and kill us. Yesterday he thought Samm was trying to steal his backpack; the day before that, he thought you were trying to read his mind. He’s accused me of being a Partial twice today.”

“You are a Partial,” said Samm.

“All the more reason I don’t want him to get violent over it,” said Heron. “There are three different chemicals in this repeater station that could be used to build a bomb, and I guarantee this idiot savant knows how to use all three of them. He’s every bit as brilliant as you said he is, but he is completely broken, and that is not a combination I am comfortable traveling with.”

Kira studied Heron in the firelight, flecks of orange light and deep brown darkness dancing over her. She looked tired, and that by itself made Kira scared. Heron had thus far been invulnerable, more capable than Kira had dared to hope, but if she never slept for fear of a madman’s betrayal . . . Kira whispered softly, “What do you want to do?”

“Me?” asked Heron. “I want to go home and save the Partials. I thought I made that clear.”

“He has a screen in his pack,” said Samm, “and a Tokamin to power it—which might also explain his mental problems, if the radiation’s gotten to him. Anyway, maybe he can show us what we need to do when we get to Chicago, in case he doesn’t make it.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” said Kira. “He trusts me most.”

“Just stop trying to read his mind,” said Heron. “I hear that bugs him.”