This had the desired effect. “Yeah,” said the king, nodding. “I think it did kill my cat. I . . . don’t think I want to be king anymore. Bloody hell—you were on the ship too, weren’t you—”

“Steve, there’s no time—we have to leave. Clarence is trying to get out—”

“Get out of the tower?”

“No no—out of the city.”

“Out of the . . .” For a moment he didn’t understand, then he remembered there was something beyond the woods, something beyond the sky: so much more. He remembered steering ships through deep space, the infinite vacuum. He remembered it had once been his favorite thing. It had been his life and he’d forgotten it completely, agreeing instead to spend his life signing off paperwork in a room at the top of a tower. All this time he’d felt frustrated somewhere at the back of his mind, and it was because living here was like being in the cockpit of a rocket that never took off. As they built more floors on top of it he got higher and higher but never actually left the ground. And meanwhile he kept on building this city as if it was their destination and he’d get there eventually.

“Can we get out?” he said to Saori.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to try—but we can’t let Clarence out.”

“Okay,” said the king, taking off his crown and tossing it out of the nearest window. Then he followed Saori and left his chambers for the last time.

* * *

Iona and Victor had given it about twenty minutes before leaving the cell at the bureau. Iona held the key. They were unsure what they’d find outside the cell, whether Citizen Zero had been effective. But as they descended it was clear the bureau was empty. Everyone had left the building.

“It’s worked,” said Iona.

“So far,” said Victor.

They walked out through the unguarded front door and into the streets. The mood was already distinctly different. It was easy to tell at a glance which of the citizens had fallen victim to the new program and which had not. The reprogrammed ones were alert, focused, purposeful—and devoid of individual character. They all had only one thought now: to find others of their own kind and change them as they’d been changed. A reprogrammed citizen would stop another citizen, open the hatch in its back, and replicate the program. Then they would both go in search of another, so the rate of change was speeding up exponentially. Iona felt thrilled and a little scared to realize it was unstoppable now.

Iona told herself the citizens weren’t people, that their personalities had been programmed in the first place—but those personalities had been shaped further by countless days of experience, just like any human being, and they were being rapidly washed away. There was nothing else to be done—it was impossible to get all the citizens out and even if just one was left behind it might hold the plans for the key and supply the Poramutantur with one. But as Iona watched it happen she realized she’d always regret it.