LITMIR.BIZ

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should be operating, and with some kind of contact inside our own military.”

      “I’ve heard the report.”

      “We need to find out why,” Kira insisted. “One of our scouts may have been a Partial—”

      “Or he may simply have been interrogated in the field,” said Mkele. “A tortured soldier is a simpler explanation, and therefore a more likely one, than a widespread infiltration of our entire society.”

      “They look exactly like us,” said Kira. “If I hadn’t watched two of them survive an explosion, I’d never have even known they weren’t human. Given how easy it would be, and how chaotic it was when we retreated to this island in the first place, we’d be idiots to not at least entertain the theory.”

      “Partials don’t age,” said Mkele. “There’s no way one could live among humans for eleven years without being noticed.”

      “Maybe not as a teenager,” said Kira, “but what about adults? What about you?”

      “I assure you that everything is under control,” said Mkele, his voice more dangerous than Kira had ever heard it before. “Do not presume to tell me how to do my job, which thanks to you is now a thousand times more difficult.”

      Kira closed her mouth, watching him, trying to gauge the situation. He was right about some of it—this had been stupid, and dangerous—but she was right too. This had to be done. She couldn’t just let him throw it all away now that the Partial was right here in their grasp. How far could she push Mkele? How could she get more than just a blood sample before they destroyed the Partial?

      “Mr. Mkele!” Mkele and Kira turned to see one of the soldiers jogging toward them, waving his arm. “Mr. Mkele, we’ve received a coded call from the Senate.”

      Mkele paused, glowering, then looked at Kira and pointed at her feet. “Don’t move.” He followed the soldier back to the radio, and Kira watched as he carried on an unheard conversation. At last he handed the radio back to the soldier and stormed back to Kira.

      “Somehow the Senate has gotten word of what you’ve done,” he said darkly. “They want to see the Partial for themselves.”

      Kira smiled briefly. “Isolde to the rescue,” she whispered.

      “Don’t get too excited,” said Mkele. “Your team and that thing are both going to be questioned and sentenced in a formal Senate hearing. You will not enjoy it.”

      Kira looked up, suddenly alert. Some of the soldiers were moving, grabbing their weapons while Jayden and Yoon and Haru watched warily from the side. Mkele looked around quickly, searching for what had alerted them, then stepped back with a start.

      The Partial was moving.

      It was leaning to the side, groaning softly. Mkele stayed back; the Partial was locked into four different sets of handcuffs, two of them chaining it tightly to a steel-and-concrete road barrier, but there was still a wide circle around it that nobody seemed willing to enter. Even at a distance Kira could tell that it was still groggy, struggling to wake up, but somehow it still seemed menacing. She felt for her rifle, remembered she’d been disarmed, and cursed softly.

      The Partial drew its knees in toward its chest, then stretched out as far as its chains would let it. As soon as it reached the limit of the restraints it stiffened, and Kira saw its head jerk slightly as it fought against the sedatives.

      Mkele whispered softly. “How recently did you sedate it?”

      “Just a few hours.”

      “How big of a dose?”

      “Two hundred milligrams.”

      Mkele stopped, staring at her. “Are you trying to kill it? It’ll asphyxiate.”

      “It’s not straight morphine,” said Kira. “It’s Nalox—part morphine, part nanoparticle Naloxone. If the body loses too much oxygen, it synthesizes more Naloxone to reactivate the lungs.”

      Mkele nodded. “You could stand to give it a little more, then. Its body can clearly take it.” He turned to his team. “Weapons ready, and clear away from the sides—this isn’t a mob execution.”

      “It isn’t an execution at all,” said Kira. “You have to take it to the Senate—they said so.”

      Mkele’s face was hard. “Unless it’s killed while trying to escape.”

      “You can’t do that,” said Kira, glancing at the row of armed soldiers; they were waiting for any excuse to fire, their fingers practically twitching on their triggers.

      Kira thought about Madison’s baby, about her haunted face.

      “Aim,” said Mkele. Weapons clacked into place. The Partial moved again, coughing, its throat sounding raw and horrible.

      Suddenly Haru leaped into the middle of the circle, standing at the Partial’s feet, and turned to face the firing squad. “You can’t kill it.”

      “Get out of the way,” growled Mkele.

      “This thing is my daughter’s only hope,” said Haru. “The Senate ordered you to bring it in alive.”

      The Partial moved again, struggling to wake up. Half the soldiers stepped back, the other half surged forward, weapons searching for a clear shot around Haru. Haru cringed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, but he held his ground.

      “That thing is a walking bomb,” said Mkele.

      “Yes, it’s dangerous,” said Haru. “But this is the most important tool we have ever had in this war. We need time to learn everything we can.”

      The Partial groaned again. The soldiers kept their guns up, ready for the order to fire.

      Please, thought Kira, please don’t kill it. She summoned her courage, stepped forward, and planted herself beside Haru.

      The Partial moved again, brushing against the back of Kira’s leg. She flinched and closed her eyes, half expecting it to rise up and kill her, but she held her ground.

      Mkele stared at her, anger seething in his eyes. “Sedate it again,” he said at last. “Give it everything you’ve got. I don’t want it waking up again until we get it in a cell. We leave for East Meadow first thing in the morning.”

      

      “This hearing is now in session.”

      Kira sat in the front row of the small Senate chamber, Jayden and Haru and Yoon sitting quietly beside her. They’d been given a change of clothes and a chance to wash up, but they were still under heavy guard. Kira felt the eyes of the whole city on the back of her head, but it was just nerves—there were no spectators, and if Mkele had done his job right, nobody even knew they were there. The soldiers present had been sworn to secrecy, the local guards had been sent away, and even most of the Senate was absent, leaving a committee of only five stern-faced politicians. Kira was grateful that Senator Hobb was among them; he never went anywhere without his assistant, and Isolde’s presence gave Kira strength.

      Despite Kira’s discomfort, even the few people who were in the room weren’t looking at her—they were looking at the Partial, chained upright to a rolling metal rig in the center of the room. It was awake, and its eyes were watching everyone closely, studying them, waiting in silence for . . . Kira didn’t know for what. It was held in place with leather straps, handcuffs, chains, and even loops of rope and wire. Nobody knew exactly how strong it was—the restraints might be overkill, or they might be laughably inadequate. The room was rimmed with armed security just in case.

      “You’ve got an interesting jury,” said Isolde, sitting by Kira’s side and whispering in her ear. She nodded toward the table at the front of the room.

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