The king nodded. “And I should be there too.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“No, it is necessary because I want to show people I’m not afraid and also, if I’m there more people will come.”

“I still think—”

“Yeah, great, you keep thinking, but tell everyone I’ll be there. When’s this happening?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“As soon as that?”

“Yes, so you should get some sleep. You must be tired. Go back to the tower.”

The king nodded. “Fair enough.”

Clarence nodded at the cell door. “Could you open that for me, please?”

The king did so and as Clarence trotted back inside the room the king caught another glimpse of the villain seated at the table. She grimaced at Clarence, then turned a look on the king, which puzzled him. She didn’t look at him with hatred or contempt, but . . . concern?

Then the door swung closed.

* * *

It was deep into downtime when they emerged from the mouth of the old mine. Victor walked at the front, Iona at the rear. Between them walked thirty-eight citizens. Iona caught a glimpse of the city as they crested the hill: it all looked quiet.

Just before they reached the edge of the suburbs, the citizens started to peel off and head down different streets. This was part of their programming: they would take different routes to the bureau to avoid attracting attention. Before long Iona and Victor were walking with just two other citizens following closely behind. This small group would not seem unduly suspicious.

Some part of Iona, in the face of everything, still nurtured some notion of going back to her old life, of just quietly going home and leaving Victor and Alyssa to it. She couldn’t help but think of her house and the school as “normal.” Things were simpler before she knew the truth, before she’d remembered what she’d lost. But as they passed other citizens going about their business—rickshaw drivers, night-shift construction workers—the impossibility of this became clear. She saw the citizens differently now and she didn’t want to go back to the school, see her old colleagues, her friends. She would know what they were really made of, she would detect the artificial patterns in their responses. She saw through the thinness of her old life. She couldn’t go back and pretend—and if others had any clue about what she’d done today, they wouldn’t regard her as normal either.

She tried to think about what her life would be like after this.

Then they reached the bureau, and there were other things to think about.

* * *

The other reprogrammed citizens had all concealed themselves in the streets near the bureau, waiting for Victor’s signal. Iona couldn’t see them but Victor was confident they’d be there. Iona fretted she’d made a mistake in replicating Victor’s program: a single misplaced digit might have sent a citizen somewhere else entirely.

Victor had brought Alyssa’s electric torch with him from the ship and this was the agreed signal for the attack to begin. They’d also brought some sharp-edged tools that were actually designed for hacking vegetation away from overgrown areas when setting up camp, but they had potential as weapons, were retractable, and could be concealed under clothing, and most importantly they didn’t require any power source.