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bother to deny it—Flora told me everything.”
    â€œShe couldn’t have, Casey. She didn’t know everything. That’s what reports are for.”
    â€œEducate me,” Skett said.
    â€œWhy? If you want my help, put Flora back in charge and tell me what you know.”
    â€œI know that Flora and her entire staff will die if you don’t go,” Skett said. “I’ll tell you what: you can keep your secrets for now. Just get out there. You’ll want to share with me in due course.”
    Mikel hesitated. Skett was right about one thing: the issue was Galderkhaan, not Group politics. He didn’t seem to have many options.
    â€œWhat are the risks?” Mikel asked.
    â€œThey are abundant, but you’ve taken risks before.”
    â€œI have, but I need a good reason to go out in temperatures that are negative thirteen degrees Fahrenheit and falling,” Mikel said, glancing at the Halley VI weather app on his phone. He wasn’t being entirely truthful: he would risk a great deal to be able to go back out there.
    â€œI already gave you the reason,” Skett said with growing impatience.
    â€œAnd I’ve agreed,” Mikel said. “But I need to come up with a really persuasive argument to get permission to use Halley equipment.”
    â€œTwo words should do it,” Skett said. “Actionable information.”
    â€œI just said, they have their procedures here—”
    â€œAnd they have funding to consider as well,” Skett said. “They have to produce results or the spigot runs dry. Now go and get this done, Dr. Jasso.”
    It was a simple but possibly effective argument. Among the twenty-three scientists, there had to be one who would back him.
    â€œPut Flora back on,” Mikel demanded. Then he added, “Please.”
    A moment later Flora was back on the phone. “I’m here, Mikel.” The echo told him she was on speaker.
    â€œAre you all right with this?”
    â€œIn theory, yes. I would have preferred more time for preparation, but Skett is running this operation at the moment.”
    â€œFlora, who is Casey Skett? Why is he doing any of this? Why now ?”
    â€œIt is not just now ,” Skett said angrily, grabbing the phone and taking the call private. “My god, Dr. Jasso—it has been this way for centuries. The Group—do you think they are this benevolent research organization funded by the scions of the old East India Company?”
    â€œSo I’ve been told,” Mikel said cautiously.
    â€œIt’s a lie, Dr. Jasso.”
    â€œLet me hear that from Flora,” Mikel replied.
    â€œI’m afraid she doesn’t know everything either,” Skett said. “Now enough talk. Just get to the site. You will understand better when you see what kind of power we are exploring.”
    â€œWe? Who else is involved in this?”
    â€œThere is nothing more to discuss,” Skett said. “Call me when you are there.”
    â€œI need to rest,” Mikel said. “I’ve been going nonstop for days.”
    There was a brief silence. “Take three hours, then go. I will expect your call.”
    Mikel heard a scream.
    â€œFlora?” he yelled into the phone.
    â€œMikel, be care—”
    But Casey had already terminated the call.

CHAPTER 3
    T his was not a dream. It was not a vision. All of this was real, and the physical stimuli were an assault on the mind of Caitlin O’Hara: the unfamiliar sights and smells, the loose touch of the clothing, the sudden and unfamiliar sense of agoraphobia—she wanted to be home —and her inability to will these things away . . . the onslaught drove her into a swift, ungovernable panic attack.
    She struggled, she rose, she moved, and she remembered little of it until now.
    Now? What is “now”? she wondered with considered clarity that was almost worse than the raw panic. What is “is”? She