“Hold on to the Pryor girl. She knew something. I saw the readings from the App. She was lousy with asynchronous resonance. She’d been elsewhere, or been in close contact with someone who had, likely her friend Mallory. Oh, you nod now, do you? As if you have the first idea what I’m talking about.” Rove walked over pugnaciously, heedless of the fact that Lucas could have broken him in half. “We’re elsewhere, Lucas. Right now. You won’t be able to use the App in the future because you’re contaminated yourself. The dust of another Earth is on you, not to mention in every atom in your new arm. It’s all from here, and it has the signature of here on it. That’s how it was explained to me. That also means we can track down anyone back home who’s had that contact. Not our actual enemies, you understand, because they can run countermeasures, but idiot naifs like Pryor. My friends seem to think that she’s still alive and home, even if your cohorts didn’t survive the trip.” He looked brightly up at Lucas. “You’re ready to go home, I take it? To grab another team and get her?”

Lucas nodded slowly. The words go home were a powerful incentive.

“And you’ll have help, this time,” Rove added, not pleasantly. “My friends are just bursting to see other places, stretch their legs. You won’t realize it, but most of them would kill, actually murder each other with their teeth, to have this much space.” He waved his hands at the room, which was on a par with a decent-sized suburban living room. “You might find them upsetting,” Rove said, his urbane smile becoming less pleasant with every word. “Your team certainly will. That’s why you’re still on the payroll, Lucas. You’re in it up to your neck, now. You’ve seen what’s on the other side of the mirror.”

Lucas filled in the implication Rove didn’t feel it necessary to say. And there’s no going back from that.

III