When they had extracted her from the growth medium, even Emma Walker had gasped with surprise. She had whispered, “How beautiful.” She had already constructed the electromagnetic field that would fill her brain and animate her nervous system, so the moment they inserted it into the body, Gemma’s eyes opened and she became instantly fully informed medically. She went in seconds from being an inert form slathered in disinfectant gel to an expert medical specialist and geneticist, needing only training in the fine motor skills associated with surgery. They were still in that training. She was learning to reattach nerves in the spine, useless in humans, but vital for hybrids, whose nerves would reconnect.

He heard a grinding sound and realized that it was his own jaw clenching.

Gamma removed her hands. “There’s that same minor issue with your mitral valve, but nothing to be concerned about. When are you going to kill us?”

He was so surprised that he sucked breath. She sat back, then got up and stepped away.

“Excuse me for surprising you.” She lowered her eyes. “I read the letter.”

Of course she had. He’d been holding it. She would easily have been able to read it upside down.

“Do the others know?”

“I broadcast the contents, yes.” They were networked just like computers, using the same microwave field that intensified their vision.

So they all knew. And since they also knew every detail of how the U.S. government functioned, as well as a great deal of general law and all military law, they also knew how much danger they were in.

He did the only thing he could do. His heart now hammering, Gamma hovering beside him, he went to the ready room where they were housed.

Unlike generation one and two, who lived upstairs and were maturing like normal human beings, generation three could be grown in artificial wombs in as little as a few days, and they could be pulled out at any maturity needed. Generally, the more complex motor skills they would need, the younger the pull.

As he entered the ready room, Gamma hurried ahead to open the door for him. He was senior officer. It was protocol.

“Good morning, soldiers,” he said as they snapped to attention. They had been watching historical film of Adolf Hitler. Like aphasics awakened by drugs from their sleep, they could detect lies in the tone of voice and the expression on the face. His thinking here had been that any good soldier must also be able to interrogate his captives expertly.

Normally, they were completely silent unless they were asked to convey information or had something to say, and that was the case now. They simply stood watching him.

“Obviously, a setback,” he said. “Your generation is going to be destroyed.”