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sir,” Sammy replied in his most faux-happy voice. “How are you? I trust you have had a wonderful day … or night. Whatever time it is.”
    The man gave a genuine chuckle and responded, “Very pleasant indeed. Because I have the privilege of meeting you.”
    “ Meeting me?” Sammy asked, dropping the stupid voice.
    “ You know why you are here in this room, Samuel? Here, and not in Johannesburg being brought up on charges of––let me see––” The man paused and then began to read something. “––theft, breaking and entering, resisting arrest, assault with a weapon on thirteen law enforcement officers, trespassing on private property, and assault with a weapon on Elite soldiers? The last one, I should add, is enough to put you in prison for a very long time.”
    “ Where am I?”
    “ Seventy-five kilometers east of Reykjavik.”
    Sammy jerked in surprise and knocked his head into his restraint. He swore in both pain and surprise. “I’m on—I’m on . . . Capitol Island?” he stammered. This mess was deeper than he thought. “Why––why did you bring me here?”
    “ I can give you some answers. How much I can give depends on you. Would you like to be released from your restraints?”
    “ Yes . . . please,” Sammy said. The politeness came easily now.
    With a small click, Sammy was free. He sat up, but his entire body ached again. Blood rushed from his head, and he nearly passed out. The grimace on his face must have been easy to read because the man commented, “You took quite a blow from those Elite back in Johannesburg. If you do not mind my saying so, firing a weapon at them was extraordinarily foolish.”
    Sammy got his first good look at the man speaking to him: a middle-aged man with very white hair and powerfully built chest and arms. He wore a plain gray jumpsuit adorned only with a curious golden alpha symbol attached to his chest. His sharp face made him seem very serious, but his clear blue eyes relieved the tension from his face. They were bright with discernment.
    Sammy thought he could like this man if he’d stop reminding him of his mistakes. “Why am I here?” Sammy repeated.
    “ You are an anomaly.”
    Sammy shot the man an incredulous look and words flew out of his mouth. “You’re an idiot. I’m not an anomaly. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
    The man did not change his matter-of-fact expression. “I will ask you one time to show me the same respect I show you, and if you insist on doing otherwise our conversation will be over. I will not tolerate the kind of behavior you have displayed over the last several months of your life. Anarchy is appropriate for the playground. Not here.” They stared at each other hard. Sammy saw a toughness in this man that he hadn’t seen in anyone since his dad. “Now, let me rephrase my statement; you have an anomaly. Well, anomalies, really.”
    He really thinks I’m some kind of freak . He tried to explain this to the man with some sense of etiquette: “This must be some kind of––I’m not sick. You’ve made a mistake. I don’t have whatever you’re talking about.”
    “ I am not making a mistake,” the man said, and his smile returned. “Your anomalies were caused by the Scourge.”
    “ Okay, well, I wasn’t alive back then.” He instantly regretted his tone and apologized to the man. Talking to an adult civilly was going to take some getting used to.
    “ Your parents were. They were probably very young. The vaccine caused some changes in people. This resulted in the rise of genetic anomalies in offspring. Two days ago we received intelligence from South African Territory police that a tall, black young man––you––displayed some kind of ‘powers.’ Or as they described it, ‘a force field that attacked several officers.’ So we sent the Elite to secure the situation, track down the criminal in question, and bring him to us.”
    “ You sent––but I don’t––that could have been anything that