“You’re the pilot,” Namir said, “and not expendable. I’m the oldest”—he looked at his spouses—“and, among the military people, I have the highest rank. The honor will be mine.”

“No!” I said. “Namir, be practical.”

“It can’t be Moonboy,” he said. “He’s not competent. Did you want to volunteer?” He was smiling, rueful rather than mocking.

“With all respect,” Dustin said, “this is not a job for an espionage specialist. You want a philosopher.”

“A doctor,” Elza said. “I know more about human beings than both of you combined.”

“We should do it by lot,” I said. “Excluding Paul and Moonboy.” When I said it, my stomach dropped. I looked at Meryl, and she nodded, looking grim.

“This is fascinating,” Spy said, “and I’m tempted to let you keep fighting it out. But what makes you think the choice is yours to make?

“The fact that Moonboy has been unconscious since arriving here makes him the most attractive of you, to the Others.”

“What?” Namir said. “He’s mentally incompetent.”

“Your mental competence is not an issue. The most intelligent of you, which would be Dustin, is still only human. What’s more interesting about Moonboy is that he’s immune to any consensus the rest of you might have arrived at since coming here. He is a tabula rasa with regard to the Others, and therefore will be easier to work with.”

“What makes you think you can wake him up?” Elza said.

“He won’t be awake when he joins the Others. He won’t even be alive, technically.”

“So the human race is going to be represented by a somewhat dead lunatic,” Namir said.

Spy paused, as if deciding whether to make a joke of that. “His individual characteristics and experiences are not particularly important. His recent experiences are, though; the less he knows about the Others, the better.”

“I think I understand,” Fly- in-Amber said. “Like positive feedback in a circuit. Interfering with the signal because of its similarity.”

That was the most science I’d ever heard from Fly-in-Amber. “You aren’t upset about this, yourself? Being kidnapped and killed and stored in a deep freeze?”

He clasped his head in appreciation of humor, a gesture he rarely used. “Another way of saying it is that it’s a chance at literal immortality, representing my race among the Others. How many foreign races would I be joining, Spy?”

“Two hundred forty-eight. Though more than half of them would be so different from you that communication would be unlikely.”

“You see, Carmen? As Namir said, it’s an honor.”

“I was not being literal, Fly- in-Amber. My feelings are more like Carmen’s.”

“I think Moonboy’s would be, too,” Meryl said, her voice thick and shaking. “We should try to revive him.”

“Shock him out of it?” Elza said. “And tell him ‘Prepare to die’?”