“We can’t guard it from the Big Pig,” put in Thuy. “She wants to release the nants at midnight. With the orphidnet working, she can see us right now. She told me this morning she knew that Jayjay and I would capture the Ark.”

“You poor Lobraners. Your tech is so rotten, so corrupt, so compromised. Listen to me. Move past computers. There may be a way that we can help.”

“How?” asked Thuy.

“Ond and Chu have a wild plan to steal my harp and unroll your lazy eight,” said Gladax. “But who among you Lobraners can pluck the Lost Chord—the forgotten harmony that no one remembers how to play?”

Thuy glanced at Jayjay. Neither of them had any idea what Gladax was talking about.

“Never mind,” continued the old Hibraner. “Just remember this: I don’t want to see you two in the Hibrane. There’s too great a danger of you bringing nants. But that’s enough chitchat. It’s time for me to get back to my tai chi. Come along, nephew.”

“You’re almost there, Thuy,” said Azaroth quickly. “Wheenk is almost done, and you’re gonna figure out Chu’s Knot. Don’t let Aunt Gladax scare you off. I’ll see you in the Hibrane. Just remember to be careful of the subbies.”

Gladax began scolding Azaroth, but then the two of them were gone.

Downstairs the front door clanked and scraped. A hubbub of voices filled the lobby; footsteps started up the stairs.

“What if they’re still following Luty’s orders!” exclaimed Thuy, rapidly reloading her P90 with a clip that Jayjay had brought.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Jayjay. “We’re on our way out. I thought of just the place to go. Here’s the link. And, know what? We can vaporize the nants with an atomic bomb. Just like how the Chinese blew up the nant eggcase on Mars.” The troops had reached the second floor landing; a preemptive burst of gunfire angled up the stairs. “Come on, Thuy, let’s hop.”

“Wait,” said Thuy. “I don’t want anyone getting hold of the antinantanium.” She grabbed the beaker of purplish fluid off Luty’s lab table and poured it down the lab sink. “Okay now. I’m bringing my gun.”

Moments later they were sitting inside a room-sized bubble in foamy black rock, a lava cave some twenty meters beneath the volcanic slopes of Easter Island. The air was stale but breathable, the space absolutely quiet and dark. Narrow fissures led from the cave to the island’s surface. The ubiquitous orphids had filtered in even here, making it possible to see.