“I see,” said Armin. “One of the Thetas.” He set his glass jar carefully on the ground and straightened up with knife in hand. “This is just what I was talking about, Kira. The Thetas have free will—the others told me I was crazy to make a Partial model that couldn’t be controlled through the link, but I was an idealist. I believed then, as you believe now, that the element of choice was too important to completely cut out of the species. Now I know better. I gave them choice, and all they used it for was disobedience.” He tilted his head, looking at Heron with cold, calculating eyes. “I thought I’d hunted all of you down.”

“You were the one who killed the other spy models?” asked Heron. “Every word out of your mouth is another reason to kick your ass.”

Armin shook his head. “I might not be able to control you, but I have gene mods you can’t imagine. Attacking me would be folly.”

“More and more,” said Heron, reaching a distance about ten feet away from him, and slowly circling to the side. “Kira, sweetie, I’m going to murder your dad.”

Kira tried to answer, but the link still held her locked in place.

“I designed you to be an evolution of the Partial template, Theta, but now I know you’re exactly why we need to start over,” said Armin, and Kira could hear the impatience rising in his voice. “We need a species that dreams of the stars, not one that lurks in the shadows and kills for sport.”

“You want a species without me in it?” asked Heron. “Bite me.” She dashed forward in a blur, firing her pistol; Armin sidestepped the first shot easily, and she sent the next one to his right, missing on purpose, driving him to the left where her other hand was ready with a knife. He saw the feint coming, deflected the knife in a single swift movement, and spun back the other way, leaving her line of fire just as she was bringing the barrel of her gun back toward him; he stepped between the bullets so precisely it looked rehearsed.