This man had the gentlest eyes Megan had ever seen, though his protective gear did little to hide the fact he possessed the body of a well-muscled bear.

Whats your name, honey? he asked, his voice as warm and deep as a river despite the electronic distortion of his breather.

Megan, she replied.

He nodded and unravelled a strip of foil from the long roll he carried, before carefully wrapping it around her shoulders.

The woollen cap slipped from her head and she swore, reaching down to fetch it back. She looked up again at her rescuer and froze in alarm, knowing what he was seeing: the tell-tale furrows and all-too-regular patterns of bumps beneath her recently shaven scalp.

Youre a machine-head, he observed quietly. I never heard of Uchidan machine-heads.

She shook her head. Thats not what it is. Its . . . its a kind of faith implant. All Uchidans have them, didnt you know?

Dont bullshit me, he said, though sounding not in the least angry. I know a machine-head when I see one.

Reaching up, he fiddled with the clasps on his helmet and lifted it off. Megan saw how his hair was cut close to the skull, revealing a scalp covered with identical subcutaneous patterns: a machine-head.

Who are you really, girl? he asked her, tilting his head quizzically.

I already told you my name, she said, defiance creeping into her voice. But he laughed and shook his head, as he replaced his helmet.

You running away from something, Megan? he asked softly. I wont tell anyone if you dont want me to.

Tears began rolling down her filth-streaked cheeks, and she ground her fingernails into her palms. Please dont take me back there, she begged him. Please. Theyll kill me. Theyll . . .

Hey, now, he said, gripping her by the shoulder and leading her back towards the dropship. Aint nobody going to hurt you now.

You say that, she half whispered, but you cant possibly know.

He looked beyond her, past the canopy tree and back towards the direction of the city, in silent thought.

Baby, he said finally, returning his gaze to her face, if theres one thing to be said about old Bash, its that he always keeps his word.

TWENTY-SIX

Gabrielle

2763 (the present)

After they disembarked from the dropship that had brought them back down from orbit, and after she was loaded into a truck driven by Freeholders, Gabrielle had spent long hours staring out at the Montos de Frenezo as the vehicle made its way amidst endless foothills, followed by a convoy of other trucks.

Tarrant had long since made his way through from the rear compartment to talk to the two Freeholders sitting up in the front cabin, and Gabrielle had gradually dozed off, until a sudden increase in speed jolted her awake. When she glanced outside again, it was to see a narrow trail of greasy smoke rising high into the sky.