“I worry about nothing,” Gaia said, but there was impatience in the toss of her head, worry in her eyes.
“He has a sister. Someone he cares about. Your Nemesis. Her name is Astrid. She could be a hostage. She could give us leverage over the Petard.”
Gaia’s eyes widened. “A loved one? Does he?” She smiled. She had very white teeth, almost perfect but for a single too-far-forward canine. “But if you kill her she’s useless as a hostage.”
“She’s no fun dead,” Drake said, and then laughed. “Let me go after her. I’ll bring her to you.”
“A hostage,” Gaia said thoughtfully. “A hostage.” She looked at Drake suspiciously. He could feel her dark mind brushing against his, probing for some trick. But there was no trick. He would bring Astrid alive.
Barely.
Eventually.
Drake saw her reach the decision. He saw a frown, a worried look. And then Gaia glanced around as if looking for someone. Then back at Drake.
It struck him that she didn’t want him to go because she didn’t want to be alone. He struggled to conceal his growing contempt. This girl’s body had given the gaiaphage the emotions of a girl. The weakness of a girl.
When he was done with Astrid . . . and done with Diana . . .
Gaia?
“Go then,” Gaia said finally. “Bring her to me.”
Astrid found Sam in the church. What was left of the church. He was sitting on an overturned pew, gazing toward the shards of a stained-glass window in a ruined frame. The cross had been propped up yet again by someone, so it wasn’t lying on the floor but was rather leaning in a corner, its base stabilized by rubble piled there.
He must have recognized something about the sound of her movements, because he didn’t bother to turn around.
“Anything?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Edilio’s losing his mind waiting, I think. He’s got Orc and Jack and Dekka all doing the rounds to try and get kids to stand fast, trying to get some more kids to come back from the barrier. I don’t think it’s working. And Albert’s actually riding a bike out to the fields to try to get kids to keep working.”
They both smiled at the picture of Albert in his chinos and button-down shirt exhorting kids from atop a bike.
“He’s looking for redemption,” Sam said.
“That’s unusually observant of you,” she said.
He smiled. “Occasionally I observe.”
She sat down next to him. “Well, he needs redemption.”
“We’re in the right place to be talking about it, huh?” He looked around the church as if just noticing where he was. “That was the story, right?” He nodded toward the cross.
“Don’t, Sam,” she said.
“You think you can read my mind, don’t you?”
“You don’t need redemption,” she said.
“So what do I need?” he asked, trying to make a joke of it.
“One more win,” she said.
“One more win.” He hung his head. “I’ve had more than my share, haven’t I? I’ve been way luckier than I should have been. I mean, how many times should I have died? I can’t even count them all.”
“Don’t do this, Sam.”
“What was I doing it for? Just so I would survive?” He shrugged. “Mostly, huh? But also sometimes so other people would live. Not meaning to make it sound all self-sacrificing or whatever.”