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years. If I did, I’d have to play new music in the Colony Orchestra. I just couldn’t . . .” He glanced at Honor and Helix where they sat on the floor drinking apple juice from cans. “I just don’t have the time.”
    The apple juice tasted like metal, but Honor liked it.
    “How long do they last, in general?” her father asked Mr. Thompson.
    “We’ve only had one bad storm, and that was years ago,” Mr. Thompson said.
    “At least three years ago,” Mrs. Thompson said. “The last one went on about two days. We had some broken windows. Broken tiles on the roof. A lot of trees came down.”
    “The trees blocked the roads,” said Mr. Thompson. “Most of the shore was underwater.”
    Honor tensed.
    “That was before they built the seawall,” Mr. Thompson added quickly.
    “Our house is going to be underwater, isn’t it?” Honor asked.
    “It’ll be fun,” her father told her. “We’ll see what we can fish out.”
    “Let’s not borrow trouble, Will,” said Pamela.
    No one spoke for a moment. Then Mrs. Thompson said, “You can stay with us as long as you need to.”
    They couldn’t see the storm, but they could hear it. They heard a noise like the rattling of dishes, and they heard the wind howling, and the wail of the Storm Warning sirens that meant everyone should move to high ground.
    “What do you do if you’re outside?” Honor asked her father.
    “Run for it,” Will said grimly.
    Honor shuddered. She could feel the house shaking above them.
    “What will happen if the wind gets too strong for the walls?” she asked.
    “Then the house could blow off the mountainside,” said Mr.
    Thompson. “Or if there’s a mud slide, it could slide down. We could end up in our neighbor’s garden.”
    “Look at her face, Daniel,” Mrs. Thompson chided her husband. “Can’t you see you’re frightening her? Even if the walls go,” she told Honor, “we’d be safe underground.”
    “Unless there’s an earthquake,” said Helix.
    “Why don’t you get out your cards,” said Mrs. Thompson.
    “Then the whole house would crumble. . . .”
    “Helix Hephaestus Thompson.”
    Honor and Helix and the four parents played Cooperation, and they played Truce.
    Mrs. Thompson opened tins of oily sardines. Honor had never eaten sardines before. They were silvery and delicious. The adults laid them neatly on crackers and ate them with small bites. Helix and Honor held them by the tails and dangled them into their mouths. Dessert was chocolate-covered caramels dusted in smoky salt. The caramels were so good and so sticky that Honor and Helix begged for seconds and thirds, but they only got two each.
    “No fair,” said Helix.
    “It’s fair enough,” said Mr. Thompson.
    “It’s a special occasion,” said Helix.
    “Time for bed,” said Mrs. Thompson, and she spread out puffy down sleeping bags for the children.
    “Close your eyes and pretend you’re sleeping,” Helix whispered to Honor. “Then you’ll find out secrets and dangerous stuff.”
    It was hard for Honor only to pretend she was sleeping when the sleeping bag was so soft and warm. Even so, she tried to listen for secrets.
    “Look at the New Directives, for example,” she heard Mr. Thompson say.
    “. . . we’ll all be taken by next year if you believe those,” said Honor’s father.
    “So you don’t believe them,” said Mrs. Thompson.
    “Is that a question?”
    “No.”
    “You’re suggesting that we’re Unpredictable.”
    “Aren’t we all Unpredictable here?” asked Mrs. Thompson.
    Will and Pamela laughed softly. Honor had been drifting off, but the laughter and the word Unpredictable woke her. She looked over at Helix. He was lying on his stomach with his arms folded under his head. His eyes were wide open.
    “The New Directives are a sham,” said Honor’s father. “Everybody knows that.”
    “Shh, not in front of the children,” said Honor’s mother.
    Honor and Helix lay still as could be in the dark.
    “No pens and