“Maybe she was trying to protect whatever was there from being found,” said Haru.
“She never came back,” said Marcus softly.
Kira looked at him in surprise, then at Haru. She shook her head. “She came back with us.”
“To the Dogwood station,” said Marcus, nodding. Kira could see the sadness in his eyes—sadness mixed with confusion, and a hint of fear. “No one’s seen her after that.”
Kira shook her head; this was crazy. “Gianna was not a Voice. She didn’t like Jayden very much, but he was throwing his weight around a little more than necessary—nobody would have liked him much.” She glanced at Madison. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“She’s the one who identified that thing as a radio,” said Haru, “and the only person who could argue with her died in the explosion. For all we know, the other guy figured out that it was an active Voice base of operations and this Gianna woman triggered the bomb to shut him up. She’s the only one who lived.”
Kira laughed out loud, then felt guilty and tried to stifle it. “I’m sorry, but that’s . . . incredibly paranoid. You’re almost as bad as the guy who debriefed us the other day.”
“Paranoid or not,” said Haru, “obviously the Defense Grid agrees or they wouldn’t have kept her in custody.”
Xochi stepped into the room and leaned against the doorway. “You’re talking about that computer scientist from the salvage run?”
Kira threw up her hands, eyes wide. “Does everyone know about this but me?”
“You spend fifteen hours a day in the hospital,” said Madison. “The Voice could kidnap the Senate and you wouldn’t know about it.”
“The Defense Grid shouldn’t be able to hold people like that,” said Xochi. “They should have public arrests and public trials, not people who disappear for no reason.”
“It’s not for no reason,” said Haru. “She’s a terrorist. That’s a pretty good reason.”
“You don’t know that she’s a terrorist,” said Xochi, “or have you been rehired into the Defense Grid with top-level clearance and just forgot to tell us about it?”
Haru glared at her. “Do you have a problem with the Defense Grid doing their job?”
“I have a problem with ‘making people disappear’ suddenly being a part of their job. When did that happen?”
“Their job is to protect us, and they do it the way they think is best. If you don’t trust them, why are you still here?”
“Maybe I believe in solving problems instead of running away from them.”
“Maybe?”
This is getting too heated, thought Kira, but just as she was about to step in and stop the argument, Marcus spoke up and did it for her.
“I think that’s enough on this topic,” he said. “Everybody just calm down.” He looked at Xochi. “Is there anything I can do to help with the food?”
“We’re just about done,” said Xochi, casting a last, withering look at Haru. “You can help me bring it in.”
They walked back down the hall, and Kira took a slow breath. She wanted to blame Haru for the fight—and he was certainly a big part of why the argument had become a fight in the first place—but she knew it wasn’t all his fault. Tensions were high all through East Meadow, probably all across the island, and everyone was on edge. Had Gianna really been part of the Voice? Had the government really just made her disappear?
It had been easier, in some ways, when Kira was a kid, and the Partials were the big bad guy. Everything terrible that had happened could be explained, and while the explanation might be scary, at least it was simple. Darkness was clearly divided from light. These days . . . Kira had no idea who the enemy was, or who you could blame, or who you could trust. If Gianna was a Voice, then you couldn’t trust your neighbors, and if she wasn’t a Voice, then you couldn’t trust your government. Kira didn’t like either possibility.
Haru stood up, still scowling. “I’m going outside; I need some air.” He walked away, and Kira heard the back door click open and closed.
Madison smiled sadly. “Sorry about him,” she said. “He’s under a lot of stress.”
“Rough week at work?” asked Kira. Haru worked in construction. Not building things, because everything they could ever need had already been built by the old world. In East Meadow the construction department maintained the buildings currently in use and analyzed new ones the Senate thought the community might need. They spent a lot of time on salvage runs, studying old buildings’ stability before the crews went through and stripped out anything useful. Haru had shown a knack for excavation, so they’d transferred him over from the Defense Grid, but he apparently hadn’t been happy about it. Kira knew that every time something went wrong on his job, it left him surly for days. She’d wondered on more than one occasion if Haru’s transfer had been a veiled dismissal for some conflict or infraction.
To Kira’s surprise, Madison shook her head. “His job’s been fine,” she said softly, “it’s . . .” She stopped, staring at the floor, then looked up at Kira intently. “Come here.” Her voice was soft but excited, here eyes suddenly alive with energy. Kira narrowed her eyes, wondering what could make Madison so happy and Haru so edgy. She slid across the couch while Madison looked over her shoulder, and suddenly it hit her; she felt the emotional weight like a punch in the gut. She looked at Madison with wide eyes, her breath caught in her throat.
“No . . .”
Madison turned back, her smile stretching from ear to ear. “I’m pregnant.”
Kira shook her head, still trying to take a deep breath. “No, Mads, no—”
“Yes,” said Madison, “I’m positive. I’ve been sick for weeks, too sick to even eat sometimes, and then ravenous thirty minutes later for something totally weird. I’ve been craving dirt, Kira, like dirt from our garden. Is that the craziest thing?”
“We don’t get certain minerals in our diets here,” Kira whispered. “Pregnant cravings are your body’s way of telling you what nutrients it needs. Dirt’s not that uncommon with our diet.”
“I’m going to go into the hospital in a few days to get tested for real,” said Madison, “but I wanted to tell you first.”
“No,” said Kira again, shaking her head. This couldn’t be happening—she knew that it could, that it was in fact very likely, but at the same time she knew that no, this was Madison, this was the closest thing to a sister, to a family, that Kira had left. “Do you have any idea what it’s like?” she asked. “The pain? The danger? Women die in childbirth; even with all our equipment and experience at the hospital it still happens, and then even if you live, your baby won’t. We haven’t cured RM yet—you’re going to live with this for a few more months, and go through all that pain and terror and blood and everything else, and then it’s going to die.” Kira felt herself tearing up, felt a hot wetness welling up in her eyes and spilling coldly down her face. She imagined Madison where Ariel had been, wide-eyed and screaming, banging on the glass as her daughter squirmed and wailed and died. “Haru is right to be upset,” she said, wiping her face with her fingers. “This is too much for you, you don’t need this.”
“Yes, I do,” said Madison softly.
“It’s a stupid law,” said Kira, raising her voice angrily before glancing nervously toward the hallway and lowering it again. “You don’t have to go through with this. Give me more time—fake sterility or something, it happens, just don’t—”
“It’s already done,” said Madison. Her smile was the sweet,