I wade through to the doorway, where Tyco still stands, grinning in the rain.

“Thought you’d changed your mind for a second, Luka,” he says.

I shake my head. Suddenly, the weight of Pod’s death, the thought of leaving Kina without saying goodbye, the knowledge that I will most likely live out the rest of my days in the Arc, hits me. I fight against the pain, turning it into the only other iteration the emotion can take: rage.

“Akimi is dead because of you. Pod is dead because of you,” I tell him, through gritted teeth. “My friends died because of your actions and your inability to see the truth.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tyco says dismissively. “Come with me.”

He turns his back on me, and my first thought is kill him, kill him now, but I made a deal with Happy, a deal that means my friends will live.

I follow the deranged Alt out into the rain.

We walk, him leading the way, for five, maybe six yards, and suddenly we’re outside the circle of the rain. It’s strange to stand on one side of a curtain of torrential rain—on this side it’s relatively warm and calm, and the shift in weather is jarring.

Tyco stops so suddenly that I almost walk into him.

A driverless flying car floats soundlessly down from the sky, landing softly on the road beside us.

“Get in,” Tyco says.

And I do. Tyco gets in the front.

Surreptitiously, I sneak Apple-Moth out of my pocket and let him charge in the bright sunlight falling through the car window.

In the ARC

The car lands just outside the Arc.

“What happens now?” I ask.

“Everything is as it should be,” Tyco’s voice replies, and when I look at him, I see that his eyes are now glowing white.

Tyco leaves the car first, leaving me alone for a brief moment.

“Apple-Moth,” I whisper, and the drone comes to life.

“Hi, fri—”

“Quiet!” I demand, and the drone is silent. “Record everything, and stay out of sight.”

Apple-Moth’s lights blink green, then blue, confirming that it understands, then the lights go out and the drone zips back into my pocket, peeking out just enough to record.

I step out of the car and follow Tyco.

We enter through the same enormous opening I traveled through as Captain Yossarian, barely a week ago.

In an excessive show of strength, Happy has had all its soldiers line the way into the building. Thousands of them, all standing to attention, all of them with the latest USW rifle held in one hand, upright against the right side of their chests.

I walk in silence through this ironic guard of honor, looking down, following Tyco until we’re farther inside the Arc.

We stop as two drones scan me. “No weapons detected,” Happy’s voice says.

Tyco leads me to the elevator, presses the call button, and waits.