Doors building
07:45 EST

Well, thank you for your time, Miss Palmer.

Renee took the middle-aged man's hand, smiling pleasantly. Not at all, Mr. Hopson. Second Chances has some wonderful potential; I could hardly afford not to make this agreement.

I'm glad you feel that way, Hopson replied. I'll have my people get the paperwork back to you as soon as they can.

Renee let her smile fade as the man left. She had justy made a deal with a company that had used its technology to implant people with false memories—the worst kind of violation Renee could think of. While she had certainly been truthful, in that she could not allow the company to receive its support directly from the Taelons, she doubted Jonathan would be happy with the program restarting at all. He certainly hadn't welcomed the concept when Hopson had requested a meeting.

At least this time, Second Chances would be connected to Doors International rather than the Taelons.

This train of thought was interrupted by the hissing of her office doors swinging open, Renee looked up to see a very unhappy Liam Kincaid—Liam, she corrected herself—stride into the room.

What the hell do you think you're doing? he demanded.

Renee studied him. Right now, I'm getting ready for a meeting. Don't you ever knock?

Would you have any idea how our operative on the Moonbase got captured— he brandished a Global in front of her, with top-level restricted data files?

Jonathan wanted more information on the Taelons' Portal Grid plans, Renee said carefully. Liam seemed to be in one of his worse moods. I agreed.

Well, I hope you got what you needed, Liam growled, because I don't think we'll be getting anything else for a while. Do you enjoy ignoring my authority as Resistance leader? Is this some kind of joke to you?

Calm down, Liam.

Liam didn't seem to hear her. Da'an blames me for this, did you know that? And who knows what Zo'or did to get Trang to confess. When are you going to realize you're not just affecting yourself here, Renee.

Oh, don't you dare, Liam. Renee desperately wanted to tell the hybrid off, but had to keep in mind just how much she was supposed to know. You've been with the Resistance for what? A year? I've been a member since the beginning. Day one. You think I signed on why? Because I thought it might be fun? Standing, she fixed Liam with an icy glare. You have no right to question my loyalty, Liam. I don't run to the nearest Taelon whenever something goes wrong.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other. Renee knew full well that she was hardly without sin, but Jonathan had told her to keep an arm's length between Liam and their projects, and that was exactly what she was going to do. This would probably be better if she kept him an arm's length from her as well.

Then maybe you can get us another man on the moon, Liam said, and strode out of the office.

Again, Renee leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The Resistance had never been particularly enjoyable, but lately, it had been downright dreadful. Renee didn't know which she hated more —the kind of person she was becoming, or how easily she could assume the role.

Miss Palmer?

Renee sighed. Yes, Candace?

Mr. Taylor is here, about the JackPatches. Are you busy?

Five minutes. Can't I take five minutes...? she said, straightening up her desk. Send him in.


Lagos, Nigeria
14:21 Local (08:21 EST)

This time, Sandoval's shuttle had landed outside of Lagos, near where the shuttle which had facilitated Lubata's escape had been hidden. This was due to the fact that the craft also carried a host of forensics investigators from the Abuja office. Shedding his coat in the shuttle's seat, Sandoval instructed the pilot to wait for him, and headed off into the city.

Kincaid had checked out of the North American embassy at 11:46 the previous day. A report was filed that a shuttle had been taken out for testing on its ID drive about three minutes later, but there was no mention of the operator. The shuttle was at the moment unassigned, so any of the four Volunteer pilots could have flown the craft as easily as Kincaid.

And that was assuming the shuttle Sandoval had come from the North American embassy. Since portal travel had been discontinued, shuttles had become the centerpiece of Taelon and Protector transportation; more than two dozen craft had been operating at the time of Lubata's escape.

But something was pointing Sandoval towards Kincaid on this one.

Sandoval glared at Kincaid as he picked himself out of the snow. Debris from the destroyed shuttle was still raining down a short distance away. What amazes me, Major, is how you always seem to have an explanation for everything. Especially when something goes wrong."

The Imperial Hotel looked none the worse for wear, though it was a serious question as to whether it even could look any worse. Entering the building, it seemed to Sandoval that no one had even moved since yesterday. The old man with the cane was still on the bench, and the two woman were still behind the counter, exchanging heated words in Yoruba.

Excuse me, Sandoval called. The two women turned and looked at him, slightly annoyed. I'd appreciate your help in something.

This is a bad time, said the younger woman. Please, if you could come back later?

I'll only be a moment. Sandoval held out his Global, showing them a picture of Major Kincaid. I was wondering, have either of you seen this man before?

Immediately, the older woman pointed at the Global and said something excitedly. The younger woman replied sharply, which led to another heated exchange. When it was over, the younger woman, looking slightly ashamed, nodded to Sandoval. He came here yesterday, not long before you did. We have not seen him leave.

Thank you. Sandoval closed his Global and returned it to his belt as he left. As he returned to the shuttle, Sandoval was surprised to realize just how much this news didn't surprise him.

When he was at the edge of town, Sandoval's Global beeped. Yes, Captain, he said, activating the device.

I've found something, Kramer said simply.


Taelon Moonbase
12:27 EST

We've been running a full manual search of every portal on the base, Kramer said as he led Sandoval through the corridor. The first time, we didn't come up with anything, no anomalous power spikes, unexplained activations, nothing. Then, we thought to check the portal uses that were authorized, thinking our man might have used one of those. He sighed. Again, we got nothing. We had full documentation on everyone who used the portals, and every one has an alibi for the second bombing. So, if we're assuming this was a one-man show, they weren't it.

I'd like their names, in any case, Sandoval said.

Kramer nodded, handing him a disk. That's got their names and all the evidence we gathered on them that makes me think they aren't suspect.

Sandoval nodded, pocketing the disk. Is it possible the saboteur erased his record from the computer?

That was my thought, Kramer agreed. So, I had all the portals run over with a forensic scanner. He directed Sandoval through a doorway. And that's when we found something.

Beyond the doorway was a cavernous room that served as a sort of Taelon storage area. Containers of all sizes and shapes were lined up along the floor, whose purpose Kramer couldn't guess at. At the center of the room sat a massive ID portal.

This portal is used to move large equipment and supplies, Kramer narrated. On Friday morning, at six fifteen, it was used to deliver a shipment of industrial supplies to Earth. But— he slipped between two particularly large containers, when we scanned the floor, we found evidence of human genetic material. And that should not have been part of the cargo.

A team of Volunteers was crawling over this portal as well, as became apparent when Kramer and Sandoval rounded the last of the containers.

Do you know whose genetic material it was, Captain? Sandoval asked.

We're running an analysis now, Kramer replied, opening a freezer container and removing a small plastic bag, which he offered to Sandoval. I had another sample prepared, if you're interested.

Sandoval took the bag. Do you know where the portal's destination was?

Kramer nodded.


Hansen International Freight Yard, Chicago
11:39 Local (12:39 EST)

He had been right. With Ni'ram out of the way, Zo'or had chosen to attend the Portal Grid ceremony himself. In fact, if one were to believe his press conference, he could think that that had been the Taelon's plan all along.

He smiled. Whatever else could be said, he believed that it was the best thing that had ever happened to humanity. Zo'or was the only Taelon he could predict.

No change in the schedule for the Portal Grid ceremony. Good, then everything was ready. Now all he had to do was wait. He shut off the computer and withdrew into the bowels of the warehouse.

A shouted word from outside was his only warning. Quickly, he ducked behind a crate as the warehouse door was forced open, and over a dozen Volunteers poured into the room. How the hell had they found him?

He knew immediately that he wouldn't be able to hide and wait this one out. releasing the safety on his gun, he took a breath and broke out in a run towards the opposite end of the warehouse. The Volunteers saw him immediately, and he raised his weapon and delivered a series of energy blasts behind him, hoping to at least discourage pursuit long enough to make an exit.

A massive energy blast collided with a crate he had just passed by. Ducking behind another, he realized that he would not have time to recover his equipment.

Firing back again, he was rewarded with a small yelp as one of the Volunteers fell to the ground. Sprinting the remainder of the distance, he picked up his remote and the cannon. Apparently, he would have to make some changes to his plan after all.

As the footsteps drew closer, he stepped between the twin prongs of the tactical portal, and activated the remote. He saw the first Volunteer round the crate just as the portal activated, and his entire vision was engulfed in white.