‘Agent David Purdy, FBI ,’ he says. I feel slightly better knowing I’m in the hands of the U.S. government, not captured by the Mogs. I couldn’t go through that again, knowing what was coming, especially now that the charm that protected me the first time has been broken. With the FBI , my chances of survival have just skyrocketed. No matter how aggressive they are, they aren’t monsters. All I need right now is a little patience; the opportunity to escape will come. Purdy doesn’t know that, probably assumes it can’t be true. Right now, I’ll just follow his advice. Relax. Rehydrate. Wait. I might as well see what else he’s willing to tell me about what he knows about me, what he knows about all of this.

‘Where am I?’ I ask.

The speaker squeals before Agent Purdy answers. ‘You’re in a transport. It’s a short trip.’

Again I try to use my telekinesis to undo my leg straps, but I’m still too weak and the attempt makes me nauseous again. I take another couple of sips of water to give myself time to think. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘We’ve got a reunion planned for you with a friend, or maybe I should say a friend of John Smith’s. Do you call him John? Or, do you call him Number Four?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I say. I pause before answering. ‘I don’t know anyone named John Four.’

All of a sudden, I remember what happened back in the desert, just before I blacked out at the gate. I felt half out of my mind, so much so I wasn’t even sure the helicopters landing close by were even real. I remember hearing Ella’s voice. No. I didn’t just hear her voice; we spoke to one another. She asked, I answered. Given the fact that it’s the FBI who has me, it’s a pretty good bet there really were helicopters. If those were real, maybe I did communicate with Ella. Has a new Legacy kicked in? Just when I needed it most.

Ella? Can you hear me? I try again, just in case. The FBI is holding me, some agent named Purdy has me locked up and we’re in some kind of vehicle. Purdy says it isn’t far, wherever it is we’re going.

‘How did you get to the desert, Number Six?’ Purdy’s voice interrupts. ‘Weren’t you just in India, with your friends? Remember that? Just like all the other kids, reading schoolbooks and being kidnapped at the airport.’

How does he know that?

‘How did you know where the base was?’ His voice is losing a bit of its neutrality. I think I hear just a hint of impatience.

‘What base?’ I ask. I’m having a hard time thinking straight.