Inside, she leaned Nelson against a doorless refrigerator that smelled faintly of mustard and removed Sliv’s ring from the handlebar. It was too big for her finger and too small for her wrist. The bronze was tarnished with fungal blotches of green. She slipped it into her pocket, where it fit snugly alongside Deirdre’s capsule, and made her way to the open side of the hollow wire trunk that descended from the high, vaulted ceiling. The bucket of bloody rags was gone, along with the bank of monitors and keyboards. The wires that had pierced Ambrose’s palms were dangling inside. She was glad that Magnus and Ivor weren’t around. She didn’t know if UniCorp could trace her login down here.

This place is their home, she reminded herself. What gave her the right to barge into people’s lives and change them forever? She thought of Deirdre. Then she thought of Ambrose. She picked up one of the dangling implant wires and examined the tip, a triangular blade dabbed with dried blood.

“Planning a bit of surgery this evening?”

She dropped the wire and turned. Magnus and Ivor stood beneath the archway at the other end of the room. They had changed into charcoal gray robes, and Magnus was wearing a floppy, wide-brimmed hat that hid his face in shadow.

Ivor stepped into the room. “Funny how things change,” he said with a surprising hint of good humor. Behind him, in the dim space beyond the archway, dark shapes shuffled and swayed.

“I know, I know,” Mistletoe said. “You offered this to me, I ran away, and now I’m back.”

Ivor said, “Remember, when you get one of those wires stuck through your palm, you’ll still have to use that hand—and here I’d suggest wiping away the blood for a better grip—to stab the other one.” He nudged Magnus. “Onward, brother.”

They walked out from beneath the archway, followed by three furry brown beasts from the silent zoo, snorting and plodding along under the weight of the elaborate harnesses slung across their backs. When they were closer, Mistletoe noticed that each harness supported piles of equipment: monitors and keyboards from the lab, boxes stuffed with printed books and manuals, coils of insulated wire. She watched Magnus reach into his pocket for something the slobbery tongue of the creature behind him lapped up with one great lick.

“Puffed rice cereal,” Magnus said. “I’m afraid you’ve picked a rather unfortunate time to visit, as we were just on our way out.”

“I’m here on business,” Mistletoe said. “I have this.” She displayed the quivering capsule in the palm of her hand. “It’s a one-time login. I just need a signal.”

Magnus took off his hat, revealing matted wisps of white hair, and bent over for a better look. He poked it with a finger, then straightened up and turned to his brother.