Anya scurried to the table, beaming brightly. Her hair was already tied up in double buns, without the cones to cover them. In her hand, she held a toy rocket. She all but dove into the breakfast Mama laid at her place. "Oh, Mama," she exclaimed, "I just love your, um, cereal!"

"Well," Papa said as he bustled by, "someone is cheerful this morning."

Anya laid it on. "I'm just so glad I have a Papa and a Mama," she said. "I wish I could stay at home with you and Mama all day!"

"I'm sorry, Anya, but I have an important meeting at work," Papa said. He carefully removed a newspaper from the table. The front page showed a gathering formation of tanks. "And your final exams start today." He took a closer look at the toy in her hand. "Why, Anya, I don't remember you playing with that before. I bought it for you the day Mama moved in. But I'm sure you won't be allowed to take it to school."

"I know," Anya said. "I just love it 'cause you gave it to me!"

"Now you're just being silly," Papa said with a smile. "Just think, once school is out, we can do things together every day."

"You know," Mama said with her most radiant smile, "I could come over and visit you during lunch today."

For just a moment, Anya hid panic. "Actually, now I think about it, you should take a long lunch all by yourself," she said. "Maybe you could go to the museum!"

"Oh, Anya, that's on the west bank," Mama said. "I can't go all the way over there just on a lunch break. I'll tell you what, we can go this weekend. You'll finally get to look at the dinosaur bones."

"That would be cool!" Anya said. She looked up when Papa sat down.

"Anya, you are a wonderful daughter," he said. He ran a hand through her hair. "You're brave, too. I know you hear what grown-ups talk about. Let me show you something." He opened Anya's geography book. He pointed to a peninsula where the borders of Ostania and Westalis jumbled together with those of the country of Nortica.

"This is Kielberg," he said. "It's important because they have ports and canals that many countries use. Right now, there are people there who want to leave Ostania for Nortica. Now, look at this. Berlint is all the way down here. If the trouble is up there, then you'll be safe. Won't you?"

"Sure," Anya said. She knew Papa saw her eyes go to an intruding pseudopod where Westalis's territory extended almost as far east as Berlint itself. "I guess it's time to go!"

"Wait, Anya!" Mama said. "You forgot your cones."

"You know what?" Anya said. "I feel like doing something different today." As she skipped out the door, she knew that one thing had changed.

In a train station in south Berlint, a woman with short platinum hair sat down on a bench that was back to back with another. An utterly nondescript figure on the other bench did not look up. "Good day," the platinum blonde said. "Or rather… fock it. What do you want, Handler? I was just getting my team together for the mission profile you gave me yesterday."

"Another agent has already been assigned," the woman known as Sylvia Sherwood said. "A last-minute loose end has come up. You are the one I trust to deal with it."

"Really," the blonde said. "What kind of loose end?"

"The one that needs scissors," Sylvia said. "Anya Forger has discovered details of our operations. She will have to be removed, preferably without her adoptive father's knowledge."

"How did that happen?" the blonde asked sternly. "I can't believe Twilight has gotten that sloppy."

"Anya Forger has special abilities," Sylvia answered. "She can read minds. We had suspected it for some time, based partly on your reports."

"Fine," the blonde said. "I do expect to be rewarded… perhaps with a long-term partner."

Sylvia smiled. "I expected nothing less from you," she said, "Fiona." The woman called Fiona Frost, aka WISE agent Nightfall, rose and strode away.

Anya saw Becky as she walked through the gates of Eden. She ran up and threw her arms around her. "Whoa, Anya!" her friend exclaimed. "I'm always glad to see you, but you don't need to tackle me! What's up with you today?"

"You know," Anya said with a laugh, "Mama and Papa were asking me the same thing! I dunno, I feel like I just got back from a trip!" They both laughed as they walked past a maintenance scaffold. A worker in uniform looked over his shoulder. Then agent Twilight and a mustached companion began prying up the sewer grate at the foot of the scaffold.

As Anya walked, she found herself in a dark cloud of confusion. The memory of the further future she had been to was little more than a wall of pain and blood. She still could clearly see what would happen at Eden, yet it felt more like a vivid nightmare than reality. She knew that it was her mind trying to convince her either to believe it was a mere dream or accept it as inevitable fact. She admitted she was tempted to enjoy her time with Becky. But when she remembered the sudden agony of ruptured bowels and the dark ache of leaking bile, she focused and pressed on.

"Becky," she said, "we're best friends, aren't we?"

"Of course," Becky answered. "We have matching bags, don't we?" She pointed to the sheep charm they both carried.

"Then listen when I'm talking about what I like," Anya said. As she spoke, Bill Watkins came alongside them without intruding. She had a vision of Oberst Watkins presenting the sheep to Mr. Blackbell, and opening his arms for an embrace.

"Oh, of course," Becky said. "I'm sorry, I know I go overboard on Berlint in Love. But I do love hearing you talk about your cartoons. Going fan girl is something we have in common!" George Glooman approached then, trying to imitate Bill. Becky wrinkled her nose. "Eww, stay away from us, weirdo. Anya likes Damian, not you."

"Aw, Gloomy's nice," Anya said.

"He's nice to you," Becky said. "Because he thinks he can beat Damian."

"I can be just friends with a boy," Anya said. "We're friends, aren't we, Gloomy?"

"Of course," George said. "You know, Anya, that day I thought I was going to have to leave Eden, you gave me your gift and it made everything better…"

"What gift?" Becky snorted. "Everybody gave you gifts. You had to give them all back."

"Not Anya," George said, beaming with real joy. "She gave me a leaf."

"Yeah," Anya said. "I picked it up in the road 'cause Mama said we could put it in a scrapbook. It was kinda pretty."

Bill showed some interest. "So what did you do with it?" he asked.

"Well, I asked my daddy if you could really preserve things in bronze," George said. "He said yes, but it would be too expensive. He showed me how to do it with wax instead." Anya nodded. In her mind, she saw the cherished relic as he had revealed it on their first sleepover, and the single bronze death mask of Becky and Bill. Then she had one more memory of George receiving the prized Hero's Medal from her own hands, more miserable than when he thought he would be sold into slavery.

"Oh, Georgie," she said. She kissed him lightly on the lips. "You must stop moping whenever you don't get what you want. You can't tear yourself down when you do something good, either."

Becky stared, her face flushed purple. "Awmigawwd!" she shrieked. "You just gave your first kiss to the weirdo creeper!"

"What do you mean?" Anya said. "I kiss Mama and Papa. It's just Georgie."

Becky shrieked louder than before. George spoke up. "Actually, Anya?" he said. "I remember all our conversations. You have never once called me Georgie before."

That made Anya blush. She was vaguely relieved to hear another voice intrude. "Oh, great, the losers are all together again."

Of course, it was Damian.