A low rustle came from the other side of the tree at which he crouched; then a man appeared, sitting down right next to Michael on the forest floor. He was older, maybe fifty, his head shaved, with a full red beard hanging well past his chin. He was muscular, powerful-looking, everything about him like an ancient Viking.

“My name is Trae,” he said, his voice surprisingly kind, with an odd, lilting accent.

“Trae?” Michael repeated.

“Yes, Trae.”

“You’re…sure?” It was a name Michael had never heard before.

“Of course I’m sure!” he somehow whispered and yelled at the same time. “What do you want? You have two minutes.”

Michael tried to get past the Viking-like presence of this so-called leader.

“I need to…understand,” he said, wishing he knew how to articulate the millions of questions congesting his mind. “Who are you? I mean, who are you really? Are you really Tangents, and if you are, where in the Sleep did you come from? Why are we a threat to you? Janey said you don’t work for Kaine anymore. What does that mean? What are you trying to accomplish?”

Trae’s eyes grew wider as the questions spilled from Michael.

“I said you had two minutes,” he answered, “not two hours. Want me to give you a quick rundown of European history while we’re at it?”

Bryson’s voice stopped Michael’s response. He called Michael’s name again, and it sounded like he’d gotten closer.

“Sorry,” he said in a rush. Michael took a deep breath, slowing himself down. “Who are you? Why would you come here and threaten to hurt us?”

“We’re Tangents,” Trae replied matter-of-factly. “Given the gift of true flesh and bone for the first time. We earned it, and we’re not going to let the likes of you ruin it for everybody.”

“Everybody, huh? What about the people you stole that flesh and bone from?”

Trae shrugged. “They’re safe enough. Happy enough. They’ll take their turn living in the Sleep for a bit, then maybe have another chance someday.”

Michael’s mouth dropped open, but he didn’t know what to say at first. “A…another chance? What do you mean?”

“Michael!” Walter, this time, not sounding very happy. And definitely closer.

“Word on the street,” Trae said, acting as if he hadn’t heard the shout, “or should I say, word in the woods…word is that you’ve seen the Hive.”

Michael couldn’t believe it. “How do you know that?” Realizing his mistake, he added, “If I even did.”

Trae let out a genuine chuckle. “We have our ways, as they say. And we know that you’ve seen the Hive. You know how it works. The true death only comes to a few, so what you’re fighting against is nothing for you to worry about.”