fireplace ignite from a gas starter. A pleasant fire snaps in the hearth. Going to a chair, I pull off one of the fluffy moss-colored throw pillows. Taking it to the fire, I shove it in the flames until it catches. Pulling it out, I toss the pillow onto the chair. In moments, the elegant seat is a raging, burning ball of revenge with black smoke curling from it.
“Fire detected, fire detected,” Oscil repeats the statement in a mantra.
“Oh, no. Help,” I say in a bored tone. “I must get out. Open the door.”
“You are not authorized for that command,” Oscil states.
Adrenaline courses through me as I feel a moment of panic. It’s short-lived, however, because in the next moment, the sprinklers overhead turn on and douse the sitting area with a high-powered spray of water. It doesn’t take more than a few moments for the fire to go out and for me to be completely soaked.
“Dammit!” I mutter. The smoke cycles out of the small room through an air-filtration system. Cleaner-bots emerge from small slots in a wall. A robot trundles around, sucking up the puddles of water on the floor. Another one hovers over the furniture, sucking the water from the upholstery. A third bot strips away the burned material from the elegant frame of the chair and laboriously begins the task of reupholstering it. “You have got to be kidding me!” I fume in disgust at the efficiency of the place. I look up at the ceiling, but it’s not thatched on the inside—it’s solid wood.
I strip off my wet shirt and wrap skirt, balling them up, intending to shove them in the trash in anger until I look at how pretty they are. Instead, I shake them both out and lay each of them on a chair by the commissary to dry. In my black, two-piece bathing suit, I walk out of that room in frustration and move into the bedroom. I find a closet and look inside. It has a couple of wetsuits and some male beach attire—a few shirts. I choose a sky-blue shirt that was definitely made for Kyon, because when I put it on, it looks like a dress on me. I don’t care, though. It’s soft and perfect at the moment.
Closing the closet, I go to the huge bed. It has a white silk coverlet. I climb onto the bed and wrap the blanket around me. I pull one of the fluffy pillows into my arms and hug it for comfort. I close my eyes. I’m exhausted, but I can’t let myself sleep now. I need to plan my escape—our escape—Trey’s and mine. Squandering this time alone would be stupid. I try to concentrate on the future. I just need to go a few minutes ahead of now, but it’s not just “the when” that I need to control, it’s also “the where” and “the what” I want to see that’s important. I need to control the randomness of my gift. Getting lost in time is not going to help me, so I focus on “the who.” Trey.
My body temperature drops, bringing with it an icy exhale of breath. I lie still on the bed and the conscious part of me lifts out of my body.
Instead of resisting the force being exerted on me, I obey the sky as it pulls me up into it. Flashing forward over a blur of terrain, I’m not at all surprised when Amster materializes before me. I’m outside of the governor’s mansion once more. The massive statues of brawny warriors tower above me. Matchstick men are converging here—something major is happening for them to amass this many soldiers in Amster.
I ghost-move up the stairs to their headquarters. The entire first floor is packed with men. They crowd around in one of the cavernous rooms. The Gothic architecture is at odds with the sophisticated graphics and imaging set up to display a small section of a city—one that I’ve never been to before.
It’s extremely quiet in the room, except for the deep voice of a tall soldier with short, auburn hair and brown eyes. He addresses the crowd of soldiers, pointing out buildings in an unfamiliar three-dimensional cityscape grid. “The optimal positioning is to place the charges here . . . here . . . and here.” He uses his laser pointer to indicate the places he’s discussing on the holographic model. My attention wanes from him—I’m not interested in what they’re planning. I’m only interested