“Your job is the future,” said Mkele softly. “Ours is the present. I told you before: If our goals ever conflict, ours takes priority. An organized Voice attack on East Meadow is imminent and there are only so many battles we can fight at one time. Before we do anything else, the Partial must be destroyed.”

Kira glanced at Samm. As always, he was expressionless, but she could tell that he knew this was coming. She turned back to the senators. “Just like that? Not even a trial or a hearing or—”

“The hearing was four days ago,” said Weist. “You were there, and you heard the decision.”

“You gave us five days of research,” said Kira. “We’ve only had three.”

“The laboratory is destroyed,” said Skousen, “along with most of your work. You’re in no condition to continue, and there’s not enough data left for anyone else to finish what you started. Not in time.”

“Then move us to another laboratory,” said Kira. “Surely somewhere we have the equipment—all we need is the time. The five days was an arbitrary timeline in the first place.”

“And risk further attacks?” asked Delarosa. “Absolutely not.”

Hobb leaned forward. “The plan we’re considering will still allow for—”

“Then let him go free,” said Kira suddenly. She swallowed, nervous, watching as their eyes grew dark and narrow. She plunged forward before they could protest. “He’s done nothing to hurt us, he’s even helped with the research. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t let him live.”

“Is this a joke?” hissed Kessler.

“It serves your purpose,” said Kira. “You want him gone: He’ll be gone. If nothing else, it will help alleviate the possibility of a Partial retaliation.”

Skousen and Kessler scowled, and Weist shook his head. “Do you honestly think that will do any good?”

“Of course she does,” said Mkele. “She’s an idealist.”

“She’s a plague baby,” said Kessler. “She’s developed an attachment to this thing, but she has no idea what the Partials are really like.”

“And you do?” asked Kira. She tried to stand, gasped at the shock of pain, then rested back and turned in her chair. “You fought them eleven years ago—eleven years. Is it impossible to consider that something may have changed?”

“You can’t believe anything it tells you,” said Mkele.

“He’s a soldier, not a spy,” said Kira. She turned to look at him; struggling, in this last moment, to decide once and for all if she could trust him. If he had been honest the last few days, or if he was really the monster the senators made him out to be.