Number Seven fell in step with Six. "Did they give you a number?" She asked, her tone was strangely shy.

He thought for a moment. "Six." He said finally.

"Mine was supposed to be Seven."

"Supposed to be?"

"I wouldn't accept it. That got under Two's skin." She laughed. "I was threatened with a nasty punishment."

"Isn't exile meant to be your punishment?"

"This was unexpected."

"What did you expect?"

Her breath shuttered. Like the tears earlier, it was another glimpse at her carefully guarded vulnerability. "They were going to cut up my brain."

"Social conversion?"

"That's what he called it."

"Number Two?"

She nodded. "They went so far as to take me to the hospital. I was really surprised to wake up still me."

He faced her. "Have you decided that I am not the enemy. That I can be trusted?"

She met his eyes then. "I'm willing to take the risk."

"I'm flattered."

"Do you trust me?"

"In so much as I don't believe you are a willing player in this charade of theirs."

"You're the fish and I am the bait." she said angrily. "It's true, they don't require my allegiance to make use of me."

"Don't feel too badly. They are very good at what they do."

He saw the devastating impact of his words reflected in her face. She thought herself cunning enough to fight them, even to win. Now she had reason to doubt.

"They are however not infallible."

It was a fragile hope at best, yet the life came back into her eyes. He aught to have left it be. What good did it do to encourage her?

"You know how to beat them." She said.

Intuitive girl. Not as ordinary as she appeared, to be sure. Again the feeling of familiarity.

"Casey," he said. "What is your father's name?"

She looked unhappy at the change of subject, "I don't know."

"You didn't know your father?"

"No."

She lied very well.

He left it hanging. He said carefully. "What is it they want from you?"

"Something I won't ever give them."

They were cozy as two kittens and still she refused to confide in him. "You're willing to die for that conviction?"

"Giving them what they want is a worse kind of death than anything they can do to me."

"Unusual mindset." He said. "What do you intend to do?"

"Live out here as long as I can. Maybe they will leave me in peace. For awhile."

"They won't."

Even now they were watching. Judging every gesture in this little interplay. Was it, he wondered, to their liking?

He held out his lighter. She looked at it quizzically.

"To start a fire." He said. "If you catch a fish you might like to cook him."

"That's very nice of you." She took the lighter tentatively. "It will beat rubbing a couple of sticks together." She looked away. "It's getting late. I better go before I lose the light."

He caught her arm as she turned away. "Doesn't the idea of spending the night out here alone frighten you?"

"Why?"

"Most girls would be."

She smiled proudly. "I'm not most girls."

"No," he let go of her arm, "you are an odd sort of girl."

"I'm myself." She countered. "Does that make me odd?"

"It does indeed."

Without a word she ran back down the beach. He looked after her. There was no hope for her in this place. It was only a matter of time before she was destroyed.

Six heard the siren of the approaching car. At last his interference was being acknowledged. He turned to watch it come. It held four men. All of them big. As the car drew close two of them hoped off the back. The third stepped out as the car passed, effectively putting Six in the middle. The pincer move. They would make any general proud. The car circled back and parked beside them.

"Number Two want's to see you Six." One of them said. "Don't make a fuss. Just get in."

Six looked down the darkening beach. Casey was starting back, compelled by a sense of loyalty neither of them could afford. He shook his head at her. She hesitated, then came on. Stubborn girl.

"What are we waiting for?" Six pushed past the men and climbed into the car. "We mustn't keep Number Two waiting."

The men got in as well, perhaps a bit disappointed. As the car pulled away he glanced back over his shoulder. Casey was a small figure fading into the dusk. The air had grown cold. It was going to be an unpleasant night for a lightly dressed, barefoot girl.