But things went well, at least for Thuy, although, yes, rather badly for Luty’s ant. When the ant reared up to attack, Thuy lit the torch’s narrow, seven-inch-long flame. With one quick gesture she burnt through the ligaments connecting the ant’s head to its thorax, and then she severed the thorax from the bulging gaster in the rear. The head spun on the floor clacking its mandibles, the six-legged thorax scuttled out the restaurant door, and the smoldering gaster leaked a foul puddle.

“You watching me, Luty?” shouted Thuy into the air, holding the flaming torch high. “You’re going down tomorrow!” She remembered something Azaroth had said to her at that church; he’d told her to make a plea to the mass mind. “Any Founders fans listening in?” cried Thuy. “Jeff Luty is alive and in hiding in the ExaExa labs. Here’s the proof!” She sent out compressed copies of her “Losing My Head” metastory and of Sonic’s video. “Come at 8 a.m. tomorrow, hundreds of you, thousands. We’ll crush Luty before he can feed our Gaia to a new round of nants!”

“You rock, Thuy,” said Jayjay, stepping forward to kick the ant’s head out the door. “Good move.”

Meanwhile the hostess and the boy from the kitchen dragged the fuming gaster outside. The old waiter was already cleaning the floor with a bucket and string mop. The chef-owner was holding a long knife and yelling at Thuy in Vietnamese, calling her a troublemaker. She apologized and gave him a little extra money.

Once Thuy and Jayjay were outside, they did a hop from Valencia Street to—Easter Island. As a girl, Thuy had read a picture book about the stone tiki idols known as moai. Ever since, she’d wanted to see them in person.

Jayjay and Thuy spent the night curled up next to an ancient statue on the slope of the extinct volcano Rano Raraku, where many of the famous moai had been quarried and carved. It was summer in Easter Island, with the clock three hours later than in California. A good spot, a warm night. Just in case, after arriving, Jayjay made a quick teleport hop to the inside of a Chilean military warehouse, fetching two automatic rifles, a box of ammo, and a box of hand grenades. He and Thuy slept in peace.

Chapter 10

The Ark of the Nants

Next morning, Thuy woke to the sun glaring off the endless empty Pacific. She was glad to know it was Jayjay cuddled against her from behind—and not that desperate Craigor. She checked the time in her head: nine a.m. here, six a.m. in San Francisco. Plenty of time to relax, go over her dreams, and be grateful for life—as opposed to jumping right into worries and plans.