“If it does,” I say, “then yes, I’ll kill you.”

She nods, and she is very close to sleep now. “Luka, promise me you won’t leave me again.”

“Just rest for now,” I tell her.

“Promise me, Luka.”

“I promise,” I say, and it’s an easy promise to make. I don’t ever want to leave her.

I lean forward and kiss her on the side of her mouth, and she falls asleep.

I brush her hair away from her eyes and then wipe the tears from mine before joining the others in the main room.

“… perfect, fucking perfect!” Igby is declaring, holding aloft a tiny microchip from the handful that Sam has given him. He dashes toward the computer and the artificial eye.

Pander walks past and pats me on the shoulder. This is about as affectionate as she gets, and it makes me smile.

I feel a sense of love for these people, all of them my friends, old and new.

I glance up to the crow’s nest and see Dr. Ortega on lookout duty, spinning around in a slow circle, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose in a posture of boredom. Or perhaps she has a headache. Igby said he didn’t trust her, and there is still part of me trying to work some connection between her and something I’ve seen or heard.

I give up thinking about the doctor and collapse, exhausted and still a little drunk, into a chair. I close my eyes.

“Psst.”

My eyes open slowly and I realize I’ve been sleeping.

“Psst!” the voice comes again, and I try to focus, but all I see is an orange glow.

“What?” I ask groggily.

“Friend, what do you call a dog that does magic tricks?”

I lean back and blink. Apple-Moth comes into focus, hovering too close to my face.

“What?” I repeat.

“I said: What do you call a dog that does magic tricks?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, confused.

“A labracadabrador!” Apple-Moth says, and then does backflips in the air as it laughs at its own joke.

I look around, still half asleep, and then Apple-Moth hovers expectantly in front of my eyes.

“Good one,” I say, and Apple-Moth glows pink and does three more backflips before zipping off to the second level to find someone else to tell jokes to.

“What the hell?” I mutter, and then I see Pod walking toward me.

“What happened out there?” he asks. “What’s with the uniform; you joined the Alts? You Captain Kane now?” He smiles.

“That’s Yossarian to you,” Sam says from across the room, and smiles knowingly at me. We both laugh.

I explain everything to Pod, the others gathering around as I tell the story. Sam takes over at times, and by the time we’re finished everyone except Igby is listening intently.