Anya wanted to say good-bye to Samaira and Chell in-person, but didn’t think that would be wise for any of them. Best case, they could get in trouble with MacDougal for not stopping her or at least finding out where she was meeting the Martian hosts. Worst case, they might actually be mad and cause problems. She didn’t think they would attack her, but didn’t want to put any of them in a position where that could be a possibility.

Samaira didn’t answer her calls.

Chell did, but only long enough to say she wasn’t allowed to speak with her, that she was very sorry, and she hoped she was okay and they’d be able to meet again soon.

Anya decided to call Tori while she, Immonen, and Pan were stopped at a Hospital outside of Rome. Immonen had wanted to check in on some supplies he’d delivered last week and Pan wanted to stretch his legs. Anya was in the hallway just outside the hospital director’s office when she called Tori. Her friend answered her call immediately, and began to shout at her.

“You jackass!” Tori said. “You’re leaving? Again?”

“It’s not like that…it’s complicated,” Anya said.

“Take me with you.”

“What?”

“Take me with you!”

“Tori, I——”

“I’m only in the USAIF because I’m your friend and they thought I’d be be able to act as some kind of control for you. I’m sure as hell not qualified to be in a government organization otherwise. Maybe the post office. But not like…FBI for superheroes or whatever this is. And they’ve been pissed at me since you quit, like it’s my fault. I’m thinking they’re gonna fire me soon anyway, unless they decide to be serious assholes and charge me for…whatever the hell they want, maybe.”

Anya hadn’t thought of that when she’d told MacDougal to fuck off.

“Shit. Tori, I’m so sorry,” Anya said.

“Don’t be sorry for quitting! I would have too. And shit rolls downhill, no surprise. MacDougal sure wasn’t going to blame herself or Hanover. Well, maybe Hanover.”

“Tori, you have family and friends here,” Anya said. “I couldn’t ask you to——”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you! And my mother is too drunk most of the time, she’d never even notice. And my other friends are mostly work friends. And you are going to Mars to live with a bunch of super-humans and two super-animals in what looks like some kind of future utopia. Earth has bad air quality, taxes, and a thousand streaming services. Not worth it. And those Martian people said you take family and friends.”

“Tori…” Anya sighed.

“I was there when this all started. I was there when you went to get Pan, and when you went to join the USAIF. I can handle a little move,” Tori said and Anya laughed. Of course Tori would think of flying to another planet as a little bit of moving house.

Anya wanted her friend to come. While she was happy to be bringing Pan, she had to admit that the idea of more human company she could trust sounded nice. It wasn’t even like Tori’s employment with the USAIF would’ve been an automatic strike against her, as Anya was in the same boat.

But Anya wasn’t just going up there to make a new life and kick back.

If something went wrong, Tori would be at risk, more so than herself or Pan who could at least attempt to defend themselves.

“I’d love to have you with me,” Anya said. “But Tori, I can’t. And I can’t explain it right now. I’m sorry.”

“Well…shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that,” Tori snapped.

“I wish I could tell you why, but…”

“It’s fine,” Tori replied. “Look, I’m still your friend, but this pisses me off. You better come visit at least, or something, or let me come up there after a while.”

“I will,” Anya said. “And if the USAIF does fire you, give Gary a call, or let Sam and Chell go to bat for you. You’ve been just as supportive to them as you have to me.”

“Yeah,” Tori said, still brusque. She sighed and added, “Take care. And next time you go somewhere I get to come. Got it?”

“Got it,” Anya said and said good-bye. No sooner had she hung up than her menu beeped in her ear.

“Incoming call from Gary!” Felix said and Anya brought him up in a palm-sized screen.

“Heya kid. Got that thing I was talking about last time ready. Should protect you from any psychic nonsense, let you lie if you need to,” Gary said.

“Great! I was starting to worry about that, maybe respec into more psychic defense,” Anya replied.

“I got one of those communicators from Vaas. I’ll meet you in Cairo a couple hours before the meeting. It’ll put us within spitting distance of the desert but remain far enough away in case they’ve bugged the place. Plus I need to finish up a few things around here,” he said and waved at something behind him.

“See you then,” Anya said and closed the window. All she had to do now was wait.

——————————————————

Gary called his little device the psy-shield. It looked like a piece of putty no bigger than the nail on Anya’s pinky finger, and matched her skin color exactly. Gary informed her to mold it onto the back of her ear until it was flat. She did and felt a slight tingle, and then nothing.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“That’s it,” he said. “I’m rather proud of it. It doesn’t do anything obvious, just sorta makes your thoughts more uniform. So where a psychic might detect spikes while you’re lying, or nervous, now they’d just sense the same general wavelengths as normal. Now, the downside is that you’ll have to be careful if you get legitimately happy, or sad, or angry, or whatever. If a psychic is around and they see you getting visibly emotional, but they don’t sense any change in your psychic activity, they might get suspicious. Tap it twice to turn it off, and twice more to turn it back on. If you’re ever uncertain if it’s on or off, just remove it in private, then put it back on and it’ll be activated. It’s small enough that you should be able to do it in public or if they’re watching you or something, just don’t do it too much.”

“Wow, thanks Gary. Will it protect me from mental domination and stuff?”

“Yup. The same way it kinda smooths out your outgoing thoughts, it kinda makes it hard for any attacker to find a foothold. Everything just kinda slides off or around. If anybody tries that, you can claim it’s just psychic defense from the menu, or just knock ‘em out. Figure if somebody’s trying to take control of you the jig is up anyway.”

“True enough,” Anya said.

“Are we going?” Pan asked from the V-200 where he and Immonen waited. They’d parked just outside Cairo, within sight of the Great Pyramid. Immonen was taking a picture with his AI, Hoitaja.

“We should leave,” Anya said and glanced at her menu’s clock.

“I won’t be attending. Gotta get back to work,” Gary said. “Watch your ass, kid.”

“You watch your own, too. And get out of that factory now and then, okay?” Anya asked as Gary walked back to his truck. He smiled at her and gave her a wave. Maybe it was just the bright beating sun of the desert,but Gary looked healthier than he had in a while. Anya left Gary, hoping he, and everyone she was leaving, would be okay while she was gone.

———————————————————

The gathering place in the Sahara wasn’t what she had expected, though in many ways it was familiar. It reminded her of that first big meeting of hosts outside Beijing: a multitude of strange and surreal vehicles, with an equal number of hosts to claim them. Except that in addition to the many hosts, there were dozens more regular people. Family and friends joined the hosts, looking to the sky as Anya and a few others flew in.

Anya recognized several hosts as she landed and stepped out with Immonen and Pan. Brody waved at them as he approached and swept Pan up in a big, enveloping hug. Jiro from Japan loomed silent and alone not far away and gave her a glance, the sun reflecting off his face-obscuring helmet. Bernard and Amahle from South Africa were there as well, the former grinned and waved at her while the latter gave her a curt nod. Zoya from Russia was there too, but didn’t look up from where she knelt in the sand, pointing her fingers at little points and causing little pops and bursts of energy. Kemuel from Trinidad gave her a smile, the wind blowing his white dreads behind him. He was the only host Anya recognized who had non-hosts with him: a whole gang of what must have been his entire family, old, young, and a couple of infants.

There were thirteen other hosts, none of whom Anya had met before, but most of who had a few regular humans tagging along with them. She and Immonen approached Pan and Brody where they stood. The shark had hoisted Pan onto his massive shoulder and was grinning at him with obvious affection.

“You try that abav shit, yet? Supposed to tell the future or some fucking nonsense. Dunno about that but I love the way the smoke curls around my head,” Brody said as Anya and Immonen neared.

“Not yet. Anya’s been trying to get me to smoke less,” Pan said.

“Balls! What the hell for? Not like it can hurt us any, hey Pan-Pan?” Brody said and gave the pangolin a playful poke on his tummy. Pan squealed with laughter and curled up a little.

“More worried about the smell,” Anya said. “Whatever he was smoking last night smelled like old onions and sour milk.”

“It has layers to the aroma,” Brody said as if he were discussing fine wine. “You’re little shite human nose can’t appreciate the delicate aromas.”

“My nose is pretty good!” Pan said.

“Aye, but it looks fucking weird, doesn’t it?” Brody said and poked Pan again and laughed.

“Glad you’re coming with us, big guy,” Anya said to the shark.

“Yeh,” the shark said. “Not too much for me down here now. Going to Bondi Beach, getting high in me living room…just not the same without Coop. And all them fuckers in the government, they don’t give a shit. Gave him a medal, as if that would do him any good. Fucking metallic circle for a dead man. What’s that for? Bloody useless. Told me to get back to work, but didn’t see much point. No aliens to fight, no reason to stick around. Figured I’d try somewhere else.”

“Makes sense to me,” Immonen said.

“You coming too, Doc?” Brody asked.

“No, I’ll be staying on Earth for a while longer. I might visit, if Earth and Mars allow that sort of thing.”

“Fuckin’ hell. All these rules. Politics. Words Just go wherever the hell you want and let the people that don’t like it pound sand. Or better: just eat ‘em,” Brody huffed.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Anya said, aware that now she would have to start the act. Like the only reason she was going was to get away from it all, start over. “Damn USAIF and MacDougal.”

“Yeah! Finally, she gets it!” Brody said and slapped Anya on the arm. Bernard and Amahle wandered over, Bernard with a small, ghostly figure on his shoulder that looked like a cross between a squirrel and a manta ray.

“Glad to see a few more familiar faces going up with us,” Bernard said. Anya smiled at him and then glanced at Amahle. She’d never gotten a solid read on her: one minute she seemed entirely abrasive, the next thoughtful and contemplative. Right now she just looked hot, her dark skin gleaming with sweat. Anya pulled some of the heat away from her, and Amahle blinked at her.

“That you?” she asked.

“Yeah, you looked a bit warm,” Anya replied. Amahle gave her another curt nod as a thanks and Anya continued, “So Brody and I are sick of it all. Pan wants to come with me, what brings you two to this little gathering?”

“Well, Martian real-estate really seems to be taking off and we thought we’d invest in a little plot of land, grow some Martian corn, have a few dozen kids——” Bernard said then laughed when Amahle gave him an elbow to the ribs. The elemental at his shoulder chirruped in response and flew to rest on Amahle’s head and she patted it gently.

“Our government was getting a bit too demanding. And I’m getting tired of feeling like I have to tip-toe around everyone, like everything is made of paper. It will be good to be among people who are more like us. Well, mostly,” she said and then glanced at the small crowds of regular people standing around the other hosts. Anya recalled a conversation they had shared months back when hunting for Omega, one that had mirrored a few talks she’d had with Tori: normal people were scared of them, and they had to be watchful at all times around them to not cause too much damage or fear.

“No family or friends to take with you?” Anya asked. Amahle grunted and folded her arms over her chest. Bernard smiled at his fiancee and then looked at Anya, his smile dropping for a moment.

“Our families do not entirely approve of us being together. I told them they could deal with it our they could just live without us. They decided to remain…stubborn,” Bernard said.

“I can empathize,” Anya said. She hadn’t even bothered to contact her mother since their last meeting. Or her sister. She didn’t see the point. Bernard nodded to Zoya and Jiro.

“I suspect those two are taking off because…well, they probably don’t fit in anywhere down here. As for Kem,” Bernard said and nodded at Kemuel, “He looks like he’s bringing everyone that matters. Seems like a solid plan to me.”

They continued to make small talk as the minutes passed, but all the murmuring settled down as a shadow passed overhead. A vast, sleek chrome ship longer than a football field materialized in the air above. It was a much larger version of the angular, arrowhead craft Anya had seen weeks ago on the roof of the UN. The glowing green inlays flashed and pulsed as it sank to Earth with silent ease. A large panel slid open in the side, and hovering steps made of liquid metal formed from the opening down to the hot sands below.

Vaastukaar emerged, wearing a high-colored white robe and billowing white pants, a stark contrast to his dark hair and skin and eyes. The host that looked like a living marble statue, Tiresias, appeared behind him, and floated along with him as he descended the stairs.

“Hello my friends,” Vaastukaar said and grinned broadly. “Thank you so much for coming here today. You are what I hope will be the first of many new citizens of New Olympus. You have been chosen or recommended by others as the first wave of new citizens because of your efforts to save others, your cleverness and determination at protecting yourselves and your loved ones during the invasion, or because the skills you have chosen will be of great use in expanding our home. We have roughly an hour before our scheduled departure, and we will be conducting a quick, painless examination of you all and any belongings you might be bringing with you before we take off. This is for inventory only. Nothing will be taken from you.”

A number of chrome droids, all of them looking like minimalist, angular humans that floated on a single sharp point hovered out of the ship, and began speaking to the different hosts and their families in whatever language they seemed to prefer. Tiresias approached Anya and her group herself, and Anya was struck by how elegant and weirdly serene she appeared. Her glowing pink eyes were the only color apart from the milk-white smoothness of her marble figure and clothing.

“It’s good to see you again, Miss Anya,” she said with a slight Greek accent and extended her hand. Anya was surprised at the gesture, knowing this would mean she could track and message the Martian host at all times through her menu unless either one of them removed the other as a contact. Of course, Tiresias would be able to do that same to her, if she wished. Still, Anya didn’t want to mark herself as overly suspicious right away, and she shook the woman’s hand. It was soft, warm, but there was an unmistakable hardness beneath, like stone wrapped in silk.

“You too. Thanks for having us,” Anya said.

“Traveling light?” Tiresias asked and looked between her and Pan and their bags.

“Just clothes for me,” Anya said. Her first lie.

“I brought pipe-weed, and ants, and some clothes, and I think that’s it,” Pan said.

“We’ll ask that you please keep an eye on the ants and make sure not to spill any,” Tiresias said and shook Pan’s claw.

“Is that it?” Anya asked.

“Yes, that’s all. While we’re fairly certain nobody could bring anything too dangerous aboard the ship, we want to make sure. Anything else you require will be freely available once we get to Mars, and there’s plenty of supplies on the ship itself. And you, Mr. Barnard and Ms. Amahle?”

Tiresias, Vaastukaar, and the droids checked with the hundred or so people present, and wrapped within a few minutes. At the end of it, Vaastukaar clapped his hands for attention.

“We will now begin boarding. The journey is a bit long: three full days, but there is plenty of private space for all, and any food or drink you could wish from the replicators. We only ask that you please do not interfere with the droids as they go about their business,” he said. “Now, we will start by boarding any of you with small children.”

Everyone with kids in tow stepped forward and were escorted up the floating steps with droids assisting with bags. Anya watched the procession for a few moments, when a distant heat source caught her attention. She saw Amahle and Jiro all turn their heads at the same time she did, toward the west.

A streamlined aircraft was rocketing toward them, painted white, with a blue under-belly and a thin red stripe along the side. It resembled a slimmer, faster Blackbird, and came to a sudden halt a hundred yards away, hovering over the desert sands. A ramp opened beneath it, and two dozen burly robots carrying heavy weapons descended and jumped off onto the ground below.

They were followed by three men and two women in uniforms Anya recognized as belonging to the Chinese military, as well as Samaira, Mona, Harrison, Yai, Chell, and a minute later, a giant mecha appeared behind the jet that could only be piloted by Galtero.

“Anya!” Samaira shouted. “Pan! Don’t!”

“You are in violation of Earth airspace and engaged in illegal extraction of citizens!” one of the Chinese hosts said, a man in his thirties who instantly began to glow with some sort of internal radiance. “You will surrender yourselves to the authority of the Allied Earth Services and turn over all weapons and technology you have. Comply now or we will use force!”

None of the hosts or their families moved.

Anya groaned and said, “Well…shit.”