My intent, however, is not to speculate on what amygdaline means but to illustrate the sheer scope of our ignorance. How can we even begin to discuss extending human rights to nonhumans if we know absolutely nothing about them besides a name and a truly troubling asylum request from two of an unknown number— dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? We don’t know! Perhaps if we did, our lawmakers might be able to make some informed decisions!

The issue of the asylum seekers cannot be addressed until Congress decides whether or not they should be treated as legal persons. And the issue of their legal personhood cannot be debated until we know detailed facets of the “amygdalines” and their civilization. But the Cheney administration has ostensibly decided to delay the official information release until after they decide what to do with their two “asylum seekers.”

Do you see the problem here?

7

7

Cora jerked herself awake, turning over and smacking her pillow in exhausted frustration. The nightmares had resumed their regular schedule; sometimes they were the paralysis kind, but lately, they had been more violent. Tonight’s was the rare combination of an “I have an exam I didn’t study for” stress dream and being hunted by an I Know What You Did Last Summer–style serial killer.

Then she saw what had awakened her, a text message from Sol:

Enola Gay landfall get in here NOW

This text was honestly better than the alternative, the one she expected to wake up to every day: He’s gone, where is he?? Every day was an exercise in bracing for the other shoe to drop when the powers that be realized he wasn’t even where she told them he was.

When she got to work, everyone was running around like a bomb had gone off but no one knew where. They were in Conference Room 110 that morning, the very same window-walled room they had been in when she had first met task force brigadier general Porter. So it would figure when she arrived that at the head of the table sat, who else, task force brigadier general Porter. Since she’d dyed her hair blue last week (so she could have control over at least one aspect of her body and mind), he was much more prone to venomous glares.

The ROSA team, including her aunt, was there, too. “Where is Stevie?” she asked, taking a seat next to Luciana.

“She quit,” Luciana whispered.

“Why?”

Luciana spoke low, so the military brass couldn’t hear. “Press asked to speak to me. New York Times. I referred them to her, and she agreed to talk to them. DHHS said that she couldn’t, so she quit.”

“Where the hell is he?” came Sol’s voice from behind her.

Cora gasped and stood up to face him. “You didn’t say—”

“Move quickly, please!” said Sol.