She froze, unsure if that had come from Obelus, or Ampersand. “What?” she whispered.

“Lorem ipsum, vi estas same kiel anĝelo, via haŭto min ploras.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Object present purpose tangible natural purpose interrogative direct address—”

“I can’t understand you,” she said, her grip tightening around the pulse emitter.

Obelus looked at her as though something inside him had clicked. And then: “What have you done to him?”

She considered that maybe she was wrong, that maybe she had panicked, that maybe this was not Obelus. Obelus was dead. She had watched him die. Ampersand had confirmed it. Hadn’t he?

“What have you done to him?” Obelus repeated, stopping about three feet in front of her. “What are you?”

Going back over months of interactions with Ampersand, she realized that no, he hadn’t confirmed it. She had assumed it. He had never confirmed it either way. This was Obelus.

But he didn’t recognize her.

“Did you do this?”

Careful not to aim the pulse emitter at either Obelus or Ampersand, she inserted the pill bug into the other pocket of her hoodie. “I’m not the one doing this.”

“Do you know why this keeps happening to him?”

Slowly, so as not to be mistaken for an intimidation gesture, she rose to her feet, and again, she second-guessed herself. Why had she been so sure this was Obelus? This being acted like he’d never seen a human before. Was it possible that this was Obelus, and that Ampersand had found a way to strip him of his memories? After all, he was perfectly capable of doing that to humans. Why not to his own kind?

“Has this happened to him before?” she asked, keeping her demeanor authoritative, but calm.

“Many times.”

“Oh, Jesus.” She looked at Ampersand. This certainly explained a lot. He’d been hiding Obelus from her, from everyone. No wonder he was so fucking scared of Esperas. “How do you know my language?”

“I have an algorithm that translates your language.”

“Where did you get an algorithm that translates my language?”

“I do not know.”

“Do you know what I am?”

“No.”

She swallowed. “Do you know who you are?”

“No. Can you help him?”

She licked her lips and ran her fingers over the pulse emitter. She was barely keeping herself in check, one part screaming terror, another part pure animal rage. It would be so easy to finish what she’d started. It might be the only responsible thing to do. What had Ampersand accomplished by rescuing him, by keeping him alive? She’d thought he’d been overstating how “diseased” his mind was, but this was beyond immoral, it was stupid. It was deranged.

He wants both of us. He wants us both dead, Ampersand had said. He had not meant Enola was after him and Cora. Enola was after him and Obelus.