We hurried to the road at the front of the industrial park, while doing our best not to appear to be hurrying. Patrick’s car was parked at the curb, waiting. I felt a wave of relief wash over me and quickened my pace.

And then everything went to hell.

A car pulled up behind Patrick and parked. The engine shut off, and the driver got out and came around between the cars just as we got close enough to think we were home free.

It was Karen Ingram.

It took her a moment to register that the woman and man walking toward her, doubtless with deer-in-the-headlights expressions on their faces, were Karen and Marc. She stopped dead and her jaw dropped. There was a moment of frozen mutual staring, then she said something that I didn’t catch and reached into her pocket. I watched the scene unfold in slow motion, completely unable to move. She was bringing up an item and pointing it at us.

It was a disruptor.

Then she said, “Urk,” did a sort of a break-dancing move, and started to slowly collapse. Behind her, Patrick stood with his disruptor extended. I jumped forward and grabbed her before she hit the ground. As I did so, Karen disappeared, to be replaced with an orange, slightly reptilian being.

“What the hell?” I muttered. Then I looked down and realized I looked like myself.

“Put her in here,” Patrick ordered, holding his trunk lid open.

I dumped her in the trunk, none too gently, and started to ask, “Sheldon, why am I—?” Then I realized I was Marc again. “What just happened?” I said. In the trunk, Karen was Karen again.

Sheldon responded immediately. “Your cloaking fields interfered with each other. It happens. Please stop yammering and get out of there.”

Patrick muttered, “No shit,” slammed the trunk shut, and hurried around to the driver’s door. I took a moment to peer into Karen’s car. No Marc, thank God. Or anyone else. It appeared she’d come on her own.

Nat and I jammed ourselves into the passenger side, and Patrick took off before I’d even gotten the door properly closed. Our disguises vanished as Sheldon disabled the belts.

“What the hell happened?” Nat said. “Why did she come back?”

“I have no data,” Sheldon said. “But she will be unconscious for ten to fifteen minutes. You need to get her here quickly. I will reconfigure a stateroom for incarceration.”

“How long will that take?” I asked.

“Not long. It’s in my list of standard procedures.”

“Building a jail cell? Really?”

“Not for this specific circumstance, obviously, but there can be situations where someone needs to be detained against their will. Once we’ve got her secured, we can talk about how you idiots managed to screw this up.”