Spider woke up in a warm, soft bed inside a quiet room with light streaming through the window, not on a cot in a cramped, fluorescent-lit field cabin. In his hypnopompic state, he lay there basking in the sensation as if it were some bizarre dream. The Thurstons gave him a spare bedroom down the hall from where their children slept. It was tidy, with a set of clothes laid out on the bed, and came with an adjacent bathroom. He was safe and secure, the family told him, but Spider didn't want either of those things. He sat up and inadvertently pulled the skin tissue healing over his wounds. He moaned. Resting his arms over his knees, he contemplated all that had happened. The reality that this was his world now—Bridgehead: the enemy nation of Na'vi killers. He palmed his bare face and moaned again, taking it all in.

There was a hard knock on the door, and it was Harvey, ordering him to shower, for breakfast would be ready in exactly half an hour, and the military man was not going to tolerate any tardiness. Fortunately for Spider, he was accustomed to waking up before the sun. He hobbled out of bed with a wince and shuffled his way to the shower. The interior was more akin to the washroom of a space station with its steel surface and strictly functional aesthetic, not giving way to the slightest bit of frivolous décor. When he was given a tour the day prior, he failed to ask how to operate the showers, as the handles had no descriptors. Spider fumbled with them and yelped when a sharp spray struck his back. He shut it off and slammed the wall—civilization was overrated. He tried again, this time fingering the handle until warm drops trickled out. Spider was used to bathing under cold waterfalls where the refreshing chill would invigorate his muscles and keep his mind alert, but he had to admit, the hot water was nice.

Spider inspected the ugly button shirt, and he was reminded of his old family, the Paras. It occurred to him they would be somewhere in the city, so Spider made a mental note to seek them out when the chance arose. He tied back his dreadlocks and went down to the dining room for breakfast. The family was already sitting at the table, so when he stepped in, he made himself known by nervously greeting them with "Kaltxì."

The spoken Na'vi caused the Bridgeheadians to freeze until Harvey silently directed their new member to sit next to him.

"You speak English?"

"Um, yeah?"

"Then use it."

The corpsman returned to his food without another word, and his family silently copied.

Mr. Para may have been stern with him at times but was never intolerant towards his Na'vi appreciation. He shrugged it off and began breakfast, but the moment he tasted the synthesized pulp, he dropped his utensil.

Harvey smacked the table. "Mind your manners!"

Spider was struck dumb. He could feel the others stare as he gawked in fear at the unfeeling patriarch. In the past, he had the freedom to retort, but here, in this strange land, there was a new set of rules to obey.

The young man bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"You are to refer to me as 'sir.'"

Spider hesitated. "I'm sorry, sir."

Harvey accepted his apology. "I know this isn't what you are used to. That's why I'm allowing you a few days to adjust. After that, you'll be enrolled in school."

"School?"

"I don't know what your previous education entailed, but here at Bridgehead, you require a well-rounded one before moving up."

"Yes, sir."

"You have no idea how lucky you are, Miles. You have been given a five-tier status and a lucrative sponsorship, so show some gratitude."

Spider didn't know what any of that meant; he just knew he wanted to be back with the Paras again.

After breakfast, Miles Socorro asked if he could go for a walkabout. He had to explain to Harvey's mate that that was when a young man left to wander for an indefinite period of time. To Spider's surprise, she agreed, provided he'd come back before sunset. He made to set out, but Mrs. Harvey had him wait just for a moment as she left to fetch something. She returned with a pristine new EXO pack. It was a vast improvement over his old model and a world more comfortable, as he soon found after testing it. She also handed him his special identification necklace; it bore his full name, his picture, Bridgehead's emblem, and a pyramid consisting of five tiers. He was warned to not only have it on at all times but also keep it visible. Hanging the EXO pack off the hem of his pants, Spider bid an English "Goodbye" and exited the apartment.

He headed down the stairs, but his objectives were put on hold when he noticed the private courtyard and veered to check it out. It was lush with alien vegetation that the native had never seen before. He stopped before a stone pine and felt the trunk that held up an umbrella of dark foliage. The texture was coarse like dry rock yet flaked off in pliable chips; Spider studied it curiously. Bits of it fell to his feet, and he discovered, in the grass, strange green needles. He took one up to play with but ended up pricking his finger. After licking the blood off, the Pandoran continued exploring. He entered a ring of bay trees when a bobbing red blur beckoned his attention. Intrigued, he stepped forward to admire the last vestige of Mother Earth—a rose. The flower was unlike anything on Pandora; its wavy petals were soft to the touch, and the ruffled edges reminded him of pursed lips. He bent down to sniff it, letting his nose sink into the velvety cup, and the sensation was spiritual. To not be barricaded by a visor and fully take in something so wonderfully fragrant—Spider lingered with a smile on his face.

"You act like you've never seen a rose before."

Spider spun to notice a young woman crouched by some bushes. She was clad in white overalls that were smeared in dirt like her freckled face.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm the groundskeeper," she declared, coming to a stand. Though she carried herself like she was older—scrutinizing him with judgemental eyes—she was roughly the same age.

"Is that like a botanist?"

Her eyelids tightened. "A botanist studies plants. I take care of them."

"And these are roses?"

"Beloved hybrid tea rose. It is very rare. If you damage one of those, you'll be fined a thousand points, so I humbly ask that you stop fondling them."

Spider pulled back his hand. "Sorry, I'm new here."

"I can tell."

"My name's Spider." He bowed his eyes, gesturing, "I see you," but his politeness was lost on her. "What's yours?"

"You're not supposed to be mingling with the staff."

Upon learning that, he squinted at her identification necklace. "'Daphne Moria.'"

Hearing her name read aloud visibly upset her. "If you mean to report me, Mr. Socorro, I assure you it would only be your word against mine. I have credibility, whereas you're a—" When Daphne perceived his pyramid had five bands, her face dyed as red as her hair. "I apologize, sir! I have been rude."

The newcomer was, once again, unsettled by the city's denizens. "Chill man, it's… It's okay."

She swallowed and continued eyeballing him. "Good day, sir." Taking up her equipment, she scurried off, leaving Spider baffled over the strange encounter.

The day was still young when the wide vestibule of Moore's Garden activated for the late stragglers. A sign lit up, telling everyone to don their visors, and they did so simultaneously, filling the space with the collective sound of straps snapping and filters hissing. A set of lights located above the sealed doors shifted from red to green, and the barrier opened. The sunlight blared, and Spider squinted his eyes. The moving crowd pushed him outside, and the Pandoran was back in the natural world.

Outside in the neighbourhood of domes, he watched people squeeze themselves into communal transports. Being not of their lot, he stood around and logged a mental note of his location before venturing down the road. Along his trek, he passed many more domes and people and realized how vast Bridgehead was. He was in a settlement with a population of over one million; finding the Paras was not going to be as simple as bumping into them. He needed help in learning their whereabouts, and there was only one person he knew he could ask. Spider headed south.

He reached the last dome before human civilization petered out into a dirt field. The pathfinder rolled his shoulders in preparation for the hike when he heard a heavy-duty vehicle coming his way. Ever resourceful, Spider sprinted after it and latched onto the back door handle. He held on for dear life like he once did a charging sturmbeest, then clambered to the top to enjoy the ride.

Spider's instincts were correct as he watched a barracks quickly come into view. Slowing down, the RTV pulled into the garage, and the stowaway ducked low. From the roof of the vehicle, he spied two recombinant women hop out.

Walker scrunched her nose. "What's that smell?"

The human frowned and blamed his stupid clothes.

CJ sniffed around and spotted the culprit. "Hey, what are you doing up there?"

Spider jumped down. "Hello, ladies. I'm looking for Quaritch."

"Oh my gosh," CJ began to gush. She dropped to one knee to get a better look. "You must be Spider. Colonel said to keep an eye out for you."

"Holy s***," Walker spoke. "He looks just like his dad."

"He's not my dad."

"Sure he isn't."

He jutted his chin in protest as CJ continued fawning over him. "Your dreads are sick. I love them."

"Irayo," Spider thanked awkwardly, doing his best to tolerate the high-pitched praises reserved for adorable animals and babies.

"You're making him blush."

"I can't help it. He's freakin' adorable."

"He is kinda cute," Walker admitted.

"You know what you're saying, right?"

"I don't have eyes for the colonel. That's your department."

The young man was surprised, then narrowed his brows in question. "Are you his mate?"

Walker spun around, cackling, as the embarrassed CJ slapped Bridgette's back leg. "Don't you listen to her. You never heard anything."

"Yes, sir."

CJ got back up. "Well, welcome to our camp, Spooder."

"Spooder?"

"I'm CJ. This, here, is Bridgette. We're the Deja Blus." She came up behind him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Come on. We'll show you around."

Beyond the cabins, the recombinants were in the middle of exercising, lying on mats doing crunches as their buddies held their feet in place.

"So, when you bringing your boy 'round to see us?"

"He ain't my boy, Thomas. It's up to him if he wants to come by."

"How big is he, Lyle?"

Wainfleet held up his palm to about six feet, earning an impressed whistle from Warren. "Now, he'd make a great quarterback."

"You should have seen him take down the colonel."

"Ye-up. He's got spirit." Quaritch smiled, and it only grew when he glimpsed a group of three headed their way. "Well, speak of the devil. Thomas, you got your wish."

"Check it out, guys," CJ announced. "We brought Quarter Miles."

All the recombinants promptly ceased exercising.

"So, this is the colonel's jungle boy," Mansk clucked.

"Remember me, Spider-monkey?"

"Yeah, you're Baldy."

"I didn't teach him that!" Casey laughed.

Prager offered his hand, and Spider shook the fingers. "I'm Samson. Our colonel told us all about you."

"Yeah, like how you beat him up." Johnny snorted.

Lopez nudged his buddy, Brown. "Kid's got cojones."

"Takes after his pop," Warren observed.

"He's not my son!"/ "I'm not his son!" Both Miles' blanched when they realized what the other said, and the recombinants cast knowing looks—no one believed Quaritch.

"I explained this to y'all already. He's Paz's boy, not mine."

Lyle scratched his chin. "I don't know, sir. He does look like you."

"He's got your jawline."

"And your eyes."

"And that nose is straight from your face, sir."

Spider was not happy with all the comparisons they were making.

"He's got your frown, too."

"C'mon, we're not exactly alike. There's differences."

Walker crossed her arms. "Yeah? Name one."

"Well, uh… I have a tail." He pointed behind as evidence.

"That doesn't count."

Brown tipped his hat. "I'm Tyler, the team medic. I'm guessing you were the one who snuck into Hometree that night."

"Uh…" he stalled, not sure where this was going. "Yeah?"

"What was that stuff you put into my bag?"

Upon seeing he wasn't angry but curious, Spider, naturally, began to boast. "Oh. It's a substance I made refining pods from the pxorna'. It's similar to the cocoa tree. When you inhale it directly, it throws the nostrils out-of-whack."

"Hold on, that sounds like cocaine."

"Yeah. That's right."

Tyler looked at his team. "Kid laced my bag with cocaine."

"We were snorting crack?"

Quaritch rolled his mouth to suppress the grin. "Sorry I skipped dinner."

"So that's why we couldn't smell anything," Brown continued. "That's really smart."

Spider was humbled by the praise, having not expected to be treated this nicely by the enemy.

"Somethin' I want to ask you about that night. How close was I to finding Sully? I know he was somewhere in the woods. I picked up on him."

The savvy woodsman snorted. "You weren't anywhere near him."

Quaritch waved him away as the others laughed. "I would have had him if it weren't for the viperwolves."

With a twinkle in his eye, Spider quickly whipped off his EXO pack, shocking the team, but before Quaritch could protest, Spider pulled up his hands. When the viperwolf mimic finished his performance, his stunned audience whistled their praise, with Quaritch being the most impressed.

"He really fooled you, sir!" the team guffawed.

"He sure did. So, what brings you over today?"

"I wanted to ask you something. Before, you said you would help me find my parents?"

"Yeah, but I already told you all I know."

"It's not that. I want to find some people. Janine and Jack Para. They're the family that raised me on Hell's Gate. They were living there when it got captured."

"We would have seen them," Brown said to Mansk.

"What do they look like, kid?"

"My dad's got dark hair, kinda square looking. And my mom's got a thin nose, sorta round face…red hair."

Mansk smirked at the medic. "Sounds like the women you fondled."

"What did you do to my mom!"

"Nothing!"

Sasha intervened to help out his comrade. "Don't worry, kid. It was for a rescue. Besides, it looked like she enjoyed it."

Brown tried to shy away under his cap, but Spider continued to glare at the notorious flirt.

The colonel pinched his brow. "Okay, Spider. I'll do some asking and see if we can dig 'em up."

"Thanks. I was also wondering—Bridgehead has Na'vi living here, right?"

"Yeah," Lyle answered. "The Anurai camp is just beyond those fields. You want me to take you over?"

"Hold on." With the back of his palm, Quaritch stopped his corporal. "Spider, tell me what you want with them."

"I want to see their zeykoyu."

"What do you need a doctor for?"

"My back."

He then remembered the treatment he suffered. "Brown. Treat him for lacerations."

Spider protested, but the colonel was firm, and the medic left to retrieve his kit.

"I still want to see the Anurai camp."

"They ain't a tourist attraction." Quaritch promptly swivelled to Lyle. "Same goes for you."

Brown returned and directed his patient to a mat with the order to strip his shirt. When the medic laid eyes on the canvas of motley bruises, he was shocked. "These were made by a whip!"

"Ardmore," Quaritch explained.

"She took a whip to you?" CJ winced, cupping her mouth in pity.

"Yeah. Twelve a day."

Walker hissed. "That woman's a squatch."

"She's still our chief of staff."

The recent arrival didn't understand their rhetoric. "Are you guys not that big around here?"

"We're the biggest things around," Fike boasted.

"But Ardmore—she told me you were expendable."

"Expendable?" CJ exchanged confused looks with her colonel.

Prager frowned. "I know she doesn't like us, but expendable?"

"I thought you guys were the ones in charge."

"Us?" Brown interjected as he tended to the wounds. "What gave you that idea?"

"Despite our size," the colonel chimed in, "we're small around here. Bridgehead didn't plan for our existence—out of the blue, you could say." Walker threw her head back and groaned. "We're more of a…experimental unit."

"We never agreed to have our brains put on ice."

"Or to be brought back as recoms."

"So that's why you're called Project Phoenix. You've all been raised from the dead."

Lyle shrugged. "Kinda ironic when this whole city thinks we're just clones."

Spider cocked a brow at Quaritch. "Clones?"

"That means a genetic copy of somebody else. That's how we're explained to the public. Guess it's more advertiser-friendly than 'raised from the dead.'"

"And they only made us twelve," Johnny added.

Looking around, Spider noticed a discrepancy. "But I only see eleven of you?"

Everyone went quiet, and discreet glances of empathy were cast at CJ. "One of us was injured," Quaritch answered. "He's still in the hospital."

"What happened to him?"

"He found one of those booby-trapped field cabins."

Spider's eyes fell away from Quaritch. Though he had nothing to do with the incident, he suddenly felt guilty.

"Not so black and white, is it?"

The eyes returned.

"I'm sorry you have to see things from our perspective. I know it must confuse things for you."

The adolescent remained silent; likewise, so did the recombinants, as Quaritch had forbidden them from mentioning Sully around Spider.

"I'm all finished, sir. Disinfected the area and applied gauze." He then handed Spider the roll and some adhesive tape. "Clean the area daily with mild soap, apply fresh gauze, and after a few days, when it's almost healed, don't wear bandages to promote healing. Do you have someone to help apply this for you?"

"I can ask one of the Thurstons."

"How are you holding up with them, kiddo?"

The face went sour. "That Harvey is a real äzantu."

"A hard-ass, eh? Sounds like he runs a tight ship."

"You don't understand. His women don't talk when he's around. It's like they're afraid."

"That's military for you. I bet he's proud—keeps a clean image. My own was like that. You'll learn the ropes."

"Yeah…"

"The faster you learn, the better you'll do. I'm not going to tell you it's going to be easy, but if you can get through it, you'll end up thanking him one day."

"Fat chance."

"I've a feeling you'll change your tune. Besides, my barracks is always open if you need me."

Spider said nothing in reply, for the back of his mind was filled with thoughts about how this was all temporary and that he would soon escape. He came to a stand, adjusted to the bandages and looked once more in the direction of the serf camp. "Could I at least visit the Na'vi?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Hard-ass…"

"Get used to it. Walker. Drive the kid home."

"That freeloader already mooched a ride off me—groping my baby with his grubby fingers—she needs to recover."

"It's okay. I can walk."

"I can escort him back, sir."

Quaritch gave Wainfleet the stink eye. "That's mighty obliging of you, Corporal."

"I like the kid."

"Uh-huh. You stay en route. If you go veering off—" He looked around for some ideas. "I'll have Walker run you over."

He saluted. "Yes, sir."

Quaritch kept up the glare before walking away but still muttered suspicions.

Side by side, the dynamic duo strolled across the dirt plains, with Lyle making the effort to go slow for Spider's sake. "So," the recom began. "You speak Na'vi?"

"Kezemplltxe."

"Does that mean yes?"

Spider gave him a look. "Why do you ask?"

"I was, uh, wondering how do you say things like 'How are you doing?'"

"Ngaru lu fpom srak."

"Nawh lew f'om silak," Lyle's tongue struggled.

The polyglot could only wince; Lyle's annunciation couldn't even get an 'E' for effort. "Kehe!" Spider corrected. "Nga. Nga."

"Well, how am I supposed to say it?"

"No, not 'nah,' I'm saying 'nga.' That's how you say it. Ngaru. Curl your tongue and speak it through your nostril."

Wainfleet scrunched up his face, trying to pronounce the velar nasal. "Naw. Ngaw."

"That's it. Ngaru lu fpom srak."

"Ngaro loo fepom se'rak."

"Eh…almost."

"And this means 'How are you?'"

"Sorta. It's like, 'Are you at peace?'"

The student took mental notes as he walked backwards to keep themselves face-to-face. "Hey, mini Miles."

"Spider!"

"Okay. Spider-monkey. Like to be my translator?"

"What's in it for me?"

"I'll take you to the serf camp. Just don't tell anyone."

"And?"

"Well, what else do you want?"

Spider scanned the giant as he developed an idea.

Among the working serfs, a woman paused from her chore when she heard a familiar whistle. Sneaking past the vegetation, Säro excitedly emerged from the forest to anticipate her approaching mate, then cocked her brows at the Skyperson he was piggybacking.

The moment the joyrider saw the young beauty, he flew into protest. "Oh no! No way! I'm not translating any sappy pick-up lines!"

"Hey, a deal's a deal. Now, get off. I carried you this far."

"No offence, but you don't have a chance with a Na'vi."

"Oh, really? Wanna bet?"

"How so?"

"She kisses me—you translate my sappy lines."

"And if she doesn't?"

"I'll owe you something. Now, step back. She's coming."

Säro came over, beyond the shelter of the fields and greeted her mate with a smile. "Kaltxì."

"Hi-ya, Honey."

"Kame ngat," she replied and pecked him on the cheek. Wainfleet, smug as he could be, revelled in the disgusted face Spider made.

"Who is this?"

"Oh, Säro. Tawtute rail'pen."

The young man sneered at him. "If you're trying to say 'translator,' it's pronounced 'ralpeng.'

Säro wasn't sure what was happening. "Ly'il, I speak 'ìnglìsì?"

The newlywed raised his palms. "I know, I know. But I want to tell you things in Na'vi, and when I do, I just sound stupid. This kid will help translate for me." Lyle stepped aside to give his translator room, but Spider was reluctant.

"Do I have to?"

"Come on, little man, she's learning English for me. I want to speak Na'vi for her."

After hearing that, Spider yielded. "Fine, just don't make it too embarrassing." He faced the young lady with the appropriate bow. "Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmuke. Ngaru lu fpom srak?"

Säro was skeptical of the presumptuous human. "Zun ngeyä tsmuke oe livu zel oeyä sempulìri oe pivawm, tawtutetsyìp."

"Ngaytxoa. Tstxo oeyä lu, Spider."

"Oeru syaw fko, Säro."

The novice observed the conversation with inquisitive nods, only catching every other word. Spider asked to know more about Säro, to which she replied, "Oe lu Ly'ilä muntxate."

Spider exclaimed, looking at Wainfleet, "'upe?"

"What's wrong? What are you saying?"

"She says you're her mate!"

The man grinned and nodded. "Oh. Yeah."

"If you already got that far, what do you need me for?"

Lyle smacked the boy upside the head. "Watch it. That's my wife you're talking about."

"Oe ftayängang! Just tell me what you want to say to her," he grumbled, massaging his hair.

Lyle knelt to quietly speak his request. "Okay, tell her that I think her eyes are like gold."

"There's no word for 'gold' in Na'vi."

"Well, say something that's close to that."

Spider moaned and wished he was anywhere else. He voiced a half-hearted "Tsawke nrr menarimì ngeyä."

Despite the lacklustre annunciation, Säro appreciated her lover's sentiment, so Lyle kept going. "And that I love you."

With another groan, the reluctant wingman drawled, "Nga oeru yawne lu."

The woman brought the tips of her fingers to her lips. "Ly'il…"

"Nga sunu?" the recom queried.

She nodded with an infectious smile. "Sunu oeru."

Lyle brushed the top of Spider's head. "Thanks, Spider-monkey. I gotta head back now. You can find your way home, right?"

Spider's face pulled taut in surprise. However, it was an opportunity to be free, so the disgruntled Cryano, who was more than delighted to finally be rid of one Lyle Christian Wainfleet, replied with, "Duh. Get lost, lover-boy."

After patiently waiting for the recom to finish his goodbye kiss, Spider was about to follow the Anurai back to her field when the call of his name prompted him to turn around.

"Spider, one last thing. How do you say 'honey' in Na'vi?"

There was an incalculable deviousness in the opportunist's eyes. "Tìe'ä hì'ang."

Wainfleet kept repeating the phrase with deliberation as he took off, making sure his pronunciation would be perfect for when he would call his wife "insect vomit."

The little imp skipped through the field to rejoin with Säro. The woman was preoccupied with her chore when his tiny helping hand startled her. |"You again?"|

Spider tossed the pestilence he plucked into the open basket. |"I do not mean to bother you, but I could not risk talking with the recombinant around. Even in Na'vi."|

|"What do you mean?"|

|"I need to know—has there been an Anurai who has recently come to live here?"|

Säro was an open-minded woman who was more disposed to trust than distrust, but something made her wary of the human. She didn't understand why he would ask her only after her mate had left or why he had information about the latest immigrant. Acting on instinct, she feigned ignorance. |"I am sorry, young Skyperson, but I am not allowed to mingle with your kind."|

|"You don't understand. I'm Rider of Last Shadow's ward, Spider. I am from the Omatikaya clan. I'm an ally. Tell your people about me. I really, really need Rider of Last Shadow to know I am safe and well."|

|"You are ignorant to how we live, young Spider. We do not have the freedom to leave this place and tell Rider of Last Shadow these things. I must go."| Säro plucked up her bag and walked off, hoping the Skyperson would not follow her.

Spider was left alone in the dirt gully, between rows of gigantic leaves, confused as to why the Na'vi did not understand his hints about the mole.