Contents

TitlePageDedicationPartOne ChapterOne ChapterTwo ChapterThree ChapterFour ChapterFive ChapterSixPartTwo ChapterSeven ChapterEight ChapterNine ChapterTen ChapterEleven ChapterTwelve ChapterThirteen ChapterFourteenPartThree ChapterFifteen ChapterSixteenPartFour

ChapterSeventeen ChapterEighteen ChapterNineteen ChapterTwenty ChapterTwenty-One ChapterTwenty-TwoAbouttheAuthorAlsobySuzanneWeynCopyright

Gracepulledherplasticjuniore-cardfromthefrontpocketofhermetallicsilvershortsandhandedittoEric,whowasworkingbehindthedeskattherockclimbingcenter.Shehadbeeninlovewithhimfromafarforyears,andnowshewasupclose.Veryclose.

“In twodays Iwon’t have to carry that card anymore,” she told him, trying to keep her tonecasual.“IturnseventeenonSunday.”

“HappyBirthday,”hesaid,hisdarkeyesflashingmerrily.Thiswasmorethanshe’devergottenfromhimatschool.Itwasahugeschool—afactoryfor

makingstudents,really—andtheydidn’thaveanyofthesameclassesorfriends.Shenoticedhiminthehalls,though.Shealwaysnoticedhiminthehalls.Evenasshefeltherselfblendingintothecrowd.

Ericneverblendedin.Everyoneknewhim.Hewasquiteliterallyarockstar—arock-climbingstar,thatwas.Olympicteambound.Notlikeheratall.

Althoughmaybe hehad noticed her. Becausewhen she’d come here to the indoor rockwallclimbingcenterforthefirsttime,he’dsaid,“Iknowyou.”Andeachtimeafterthat,she’dwantedhimtoknowmore.

“Whereareyougettingyourtattoodone?”heasked.“Since I have a summer job as a receptionist at GlobalHelix, I can get it done onmy lunch

break,”shetoldhim.“ButIhavetowaituntilMonday.”She’dnevermentionedherjobtohimbefore;intheweeksthey’dbeenflirting(well,sheatleast

had been flirting — his intentions were unclear), it hadn’t come up. Now, when she mentionedGlobalHelix,thegeneticsdivisionofthemultinationalcorporationGlobal-1,hissmileflickeredforasecond. “After everything that’s happened, how is that company still operating?” hewondered outloud.Itwasn’tantagonistic—hewasn’tattackingher.Butclearlyhewasn’taGlobal-1fan.

Graceshrugged.“Global-1hasdivisionsallovertheworldandonegroupwentroguewithitsownagenda.Thatdivisionhasbeenshutdown.”

Eric shookhishead. “I can’tbelieve theygot awaywith saying that.Theyhad tohaveknownwhatwasgoingon.Isn’tworkingtherekindofbangedout?Thebuildingisevenevil-looking,likeit’ssomekindofafortress.”

An uneasiness filled Grace. Global-1 had always been good to her family and, she honestlybelieved, good to theworld. It took a hitwith the bar code scandal, yes…but blaming thewholecompanyforthatwaskindoflikeblamingacountryforwhatoneoutlawtowndid.

Animageofthecompany’shuge,impersonallobby,withitsfive-storyglass-and-steelceiling,flashedintoGrace’smind.Shecouldseehowitwouldseemlikeafortresstoanoutsider.Butshe’dbeengoingthereherwholelife.

“It’sonlyasummerjob,”Graceexplained,instinctivelyknowingshewasn’tgoingtoconvince

Ericofwhatthecompanywasabout.Itdidn’tseemwortharguingover,notrightnow.“Mydadworksinmaintenancethere.Hegot thespotforme.Ajobisa job.Youknowhowimpossible theyare toget.”

“Tellmeaboutit,”Ericagreedwithasigh.“Iwasluckytogetthisone.”Gracelaughed.“Ithelpsthatyou’reapre-Olympicrockclimber,”shepointedout.Everyoneat

schoolknewaboutthat.Theygatheredattheindoorwallinthegymjusttoseehimfreeclimbwithamazingspeedandagility.“They’reluckytohaveyouworkinghere.”

EricChacacouldhaveeasilyactedlikeaJockGod,butinsteadhetransformedintoMr.Bashful.“Yeah,whatever,”hesaid,notmeetingGrace’seyes.

Itmadeherlikehimevenmore.Hechangedthesubject.“Soareyouareyouupforthetattooorisitbangingyouout?”heasked.Gracewasn’treallysurehowtoanswerthat.It’snotliketherewasachoiceinvolved.Youturned

seventeenandgotthebarcodetattoo.Period.“Itmakeslifesomucheasier,”shesaid.Immediately,shesawthequestionsinhiseyes.“Iknow

whatyou’regoingtosay—but,look,they’reokaytogetnow,right?Thissecondgenerationofbarcodesisjustwhatwethoughttheywereatfirst:Theycontainbasicinfolikeaddress,driver ’slicense,bankaccount,andsoforth.Nogeneticinformation.Nonanobots.That’swhattheysayatGlobal-1.”

Ericsighed.“Iwouldn’ttrustthem.”Graceglancedatthetattoohewore.“Iguessyoumustbelievethembecauseyouhavea’too.”Ericrubbedhistattooedwristandhisexpressionbecameuneasy.“Yeah,Iknow.Butthatdoesn’t

meanIdon’tregretitsometimes.Youhadtohavebeenscaredbywhathappened.Thenanobots…itwaslikeyouwerebeingspiedonfromwithinyourownbody,andiftheyfoundsomethingwrong,youwerenullified.”

“Butthat’snottrueanymore.”Ericnodded.“Oncethenanobotsweredeactivated,theyweresupposedtodissolveinsixmonths.

It’sbeenexactlysixmonthssincetheyswitchedthemoffsotheyshouldbegone.Ihopeso.Itbangsmeout to thinkIhadmolecule-sizedrobotsrunningaroundmybloodstream.Yourcompanycouldhavekilledmeatanytime.”

Thiswas another reasonGrace likedEric somuch: his honesty. She figured the onlyway torespondwastobehonestinreturn.

“All that is rumor,”she toldEric.“It’s tooeasy toblameeverythingonGlobal-1.Therewerenanobots,yes.I’mnotarguingthat.ButtheideathatGlobal-1wasusingthemtokillpeople?That’sneverbeenproven.”

Immediately,shefeltshe’dgonetoofar.ButifEricwasn’tgoingtorespectheropinions,whybother?

“Grace,”Ericsaid.Therewasnocriticism,nojudgment.Justhername.Himsayinghername,asifitwassomethingthatmatteredtohim.

“Eric,”shesaidback.Helookedatheramoment,makingadecision.Thenhereachedunderthedeskandpulledouta

smalltraveldrive.“APostmanhandedmethistoday,”hesaid.Grace’sfirstreactionwastoask,“Postmenarestillaround?”Shethoughtthey’dbeendisbanded

afterthebarcodetattooscandalhadcometolight.Therewasnomoreneedforthem.“Youmightnotseethem,butthey’restillhere,”Ericreplied.Heextendedtheblackplasticbox

toher.“It’samessagefromDecode.Wanttocheckitout?”Now itwas Ericwhowasmaking a boldmove but burying it in a casual tone. Even though

Decodehadhelpedbreakthebarcodescandal,thegroupwasstillanonentityasfarasGlobal-1and

the government were concerned. Grace knew plenty of kids — mostly outcasts — who treatedDecode’sleader,KaylaReed,liketheirownpersonalhero,keepingpicturesofherhangingontheirbedroomwalls.Gracehadneverreallyunderstoodtheappeal.Maybebecauseherparentswouldhavetornthepostersdownassoonastheywentup,consideringitdisloyal.Butalsobecause,whileGraceunderstoodwhatDecodesaiditwasagainst,sheneverreallyunderstoodwhattheywerefor.Shehadnodesireforsocietytofallintochaos,andthat’swhatshefearedarebellionwouldbring.

Still,Ericwas takinga riskhanding thisDecodemessage toher,especiallyafterheknewsheworkedatGlobal-1.Itmeantthathetrustedher.Andthatwassomething.

Graceopenedthecontainerandeyedthetinygoldchipinside.“Thanks.CanIgetitbacktoyoutomorrow?”sheasked.

“Sure.Takeyourtime.”There were no more words to say, so their eyes continued the conversation for a moment

longer.Iwantyoutobelieveinthis,hissaid.Iwantyoutobelieveinme,herssaidback.

As soon asGracewas seated on theBullit-Buswhirring softly towardGlobal-1 headquarters, shepulledherphonefromhertitaniummeshtoteandtookoutthesmallcaseErichadgivenher.Openingit, shewet her finger and lifted the chip, sliding it onto the phone’s screen. Immediately an imageopened.

A handsome young man of about eighteen with wild black curls, cocoa-colored skin, anddancingambereyessmiledsoftlyatGrace.Sherecognizedhimimmediately.Hisfaceandthoseofhisfellowbarcodetattooresistershadbeenalloverthenewsforthelastsixmonths.HewasKaylaReed’sboyfriendandfellowactivist,MfumbeTaylor.

“MfumbeTaylorherewith the latestvideoupdate fromDecode,” theyoungmanon thesmallscreenspokeinaconfident,friendlytone.“Global-1willnotletuspostourmessageinpublic,sincetheycontrolallmeansofdiscourse,butwewillstillgetthewordout.We’veaccomplishedsomuchthispastyearthatit’shardtoknowwheretobegin.SincelastMay,whenabillwaspassedmakingitmandatory forallU.S.citizensagedseventeenandabove tobe tattooed inavisible spotwith theirown individualbar code,ourorganization,Decode,hasprotested and run interference against thisunjust law. From the start, we viewed the bar code tattoo as an unconstitutional assault on humandignityandprivacy.Therealityhasproventobemuch,muchworse.”

Gracepausedthevideotolookoutthewindow.TheBullit-BuswasenteringthefreewaytowardLosAngeles.Itwasn’tlongbeforeshe’darriveatGlobalHelix.

Movingherfingersquicklyoverthescreen,Gracefast-forwardedthevideo.ShewasprettysuresheknewwhatMfumbeTaylorwouldbesayingaboutthehistoryofthebarcodetattoo.The“much,muchworse”thingsthey’dfoundoutwerenowcommonknowledge.First,they’ddiscoveredthatanindividual’sgeneticcodewasstoredinsidethebarsofthetattoo.Peoplewerehiredorfiredbasedonwhatgeneticsrevealedofaperson’sfamilyhealthhistory.Insurancecompaniesdidn’twanttoinsurepeoplewho had high risks of certain diseases based on their genes. Peoplewhowere poor healthrisks couldn’t even get loans or be admitted into colleges. Societywas being turned upside downbasedonDNA.Yourgeneswereyourfate—andthelastwordonwhetheryouwouldsucceedorfailinlifewastattooedrightonyourskin.

Andthencamethenanobots.Thescreenofferedalink,andGracetappedonit.ShewascurioustoseewhattheDecodeangle

onitwouldbe.

WhatHaveNanobotsGottoDowithIt? ArticlebyAllysonMinor

ReportingfromtheCaliforniaInstituteofTechnology

Nanobots: molecular-sized robots — invisible machinery that respond to mathematicalprogramming.Self-replicating, theycanmimicviruses,manipulatenerves,andapplypressureonvariousorgans—includingthebrain.

Physicistshaveknownnanomachinerywaspossiblesincethe1950s.NobelPrize–winningphysicistRichardFeynmanwastalkingaboutnanotechnology—theextrememiniaturizationofmachinery—asfarbackas1959.Hebelievedthatthefrictioncausedbymovingpartswouldbethebiggestobstacle.Bythe2010s,nanobotswerebeingusedinthehumanbloodstreamtotakeapartcancercellswithinthebody.

By the2020s,nanobotsacquiredsophisticationnoonewouldhavedreamedof.Everyonewhoreceivedthebarcodetattoowouldsoonlearnhoweffectiveandhowdeadlynanomachinerycouldbe.Buttheywouldn’tevenknowthatthemolecule-sizedrobotswereswimmingthroughtheir bloodstream. That knowledge would come much later, and for many of them, theinformationwouldarrivetoolate.

In the wrong hands — meaning specifically the power-hungry hands of Global-1 —nanobotscouldbecodedtoturndeadlyagainstanyonewhohadthemintheirbloodstream.

The California Institute of Technology remains one of the nation’s centers for roboticresearchanddevelopment.Asastudenthere,workingwiththerenowneddoctorAlfredGold,Iwasable toassistDecodemembers inaccessing information that led them touncover the factthatcertainalgorithmscouldbeusedbyGlobal-1tocauseillnessandevendeathinthepeoplewhowereinjectedwiththesenanobots.AndsinceGlobal-1hadspentbillionstosuccessfullygettheiragentLoudonWatersintotheWhiteHouse,thisamountedtocompletegovernmentcontrolofU.S.citizens. Itwasassimpleas theentryofacomputeralgorithmintoaspecificbarcodedesignation.

InNovemberof2025,allthiswasrevealedtothepublicthroughthehardworkandbraveryofgroupslikeDecodeanditsoffshoot,theDrakians.WithinformationpassedtoretiredSenatorAmbroseYoung,Global-1wasforcedtoshutdowntheirbidforcompletegovernmentcontrol.DecodeandtheDrakiansarestillwatchingitclosely.

Youshouldbewatchingitclosely,too.Becarefulwhocontrolsyourfuture.

The Bullit-Bus glided to a stop right in front of the eight-foot wall surrounding the sprawlingGlobalHelixfacility.GracedugforherGlobal-1IDbadgewhileexitingthebus.Becauseshedidn’tyethaveabarcode tattoo,sherestedherchinonametalplatebuilt into thewallwhilea red laserscanned her eye for an identity check.When it had verified that she was, in fact, GraceMorrow,receptionist,agapinthewallappearedasasecuritydoorslidopentoadmither.

Glancingupatthehugemetalsculptureontheroof—atwistingladderrepresentingtheshapeofhumanDNA,thedoublehelix—shesmiled.Birdswereperchedonitsrungs.Itamusedherthatthisimposingstructurehadbecomeanavianperch.

ThebuildinghousingGlobalHelixmightbeascreepyaspeopleclaimed,butGracedidn’tseethat—insteadshesawhowimpressivelyfinal-leveltheirtechnologywas.Theywerealwaysonthecutting edgeof innovation.Andnow theywere on their gamemore strongly than ever.EspeciallysinceDecodemembershadattacked theheadquarters—hacking thecomputersandrammingrightthroughthefrontwallwithatractortrailer—lastOctober.Withindaysthewallhadbeenrebuiltandwasnowfortifiedtowithstandanything.Evenbombs.

GracehadahardtimereconcilingDecode’sideaofattackers,vigilantes,andterroristswiththecalm,measured faceon themessageErichadgivenher.But the realitywas thatDecodewanted tobring this whole place down. And they’d bring her and her father down with it, if they had anopportunity.Shehadtorememberthat.

Once thewhisper-quiet front doors closed behind her, it was a short walk toGrace’s stationbehind the long, curved, marble front desk. She greeted Terri Lin, the elegant woman she wasreplacing.“Yourfatherwaslookingforyou,”TerritoldGraceassheliftedherpursefrombeneaththedesk.“He’sworkingonthetenthsubfloornow.Atleast,hewasanhourago.”

“Thanks. I’ll buzz him in aminute,”Grace said, sliding into the springy titanium desk chairTerrihadjustevacuated.“Didhesaywhathewanted?”

Terrishrugged.“Nope.”“Okay.”Thesunslantedacrossthemarblefloor,filteringinthroughthelargewindowsatthetopofthe

ceiling.ThedimensionsoftheGlobalHelixbuildingalwaysmadeGracefeelsotiny.Sheimagineditwas how a mouse or even an ant might feel running along the baseboards of a room. Glancingaround thehuge lobbyof steel andglass,Gracewondered if thatwasGlobal-1’s goal— tomakeeveryonewhoenteredfeelsmallandunimportant.Ifitwaswhattheyintended,theywereexcellentataccomplishingit.Butitwasokaybyher.Gracedidn’tmindbeingpartofsomethingsubstantialandpowerful.Inaway,itwasevencomfortingtobelongtosomethinglargerthanherself.

Shivering,Gracepulledher lightweight black cardigan fromher tote.The central airwason

especiallyhightoday.Atall,silver-hairedmanwithvigorousstrideanddignifiedbearingcamethroughthefrontdoor

andapproachedGrace.Hisbluesummersuitwascrisp.Dr.JonathanHarrimanwaslikeacelebrityatGlobal-1.EveryoneknewthatthedistinguishedAustraliangentlemanhadinventedthefirstbarcodetattoos.

“Hello,Dr.Harriman,”Gracegreetedasshecheckedthebuilt-incomputermonitor.“Therearenomessagesforyouyettoday.”

Dr.Harrimanstudiedherwithhisintenseiceblueeyes.Gracefeltasthoughhewasinspectingherforsomesignthatshemightbedeceivinghimaboutsomething.Whatitmightbe,shecouldn’timagine. “Thank you, Grace,” Dr. Harriman said, walking toward the special executive elevatorsreservedforthetopGlobal-1employees.

Heknewhername,anyway.ThatwasmorethananyoftheotherexecshereatGlobal-1did.OnceDr.Harrimanhaddisappearedintotheelevator,sheglancedattheflexibledroidcellphone

wrappedaroundherwrist.Quicklyunpeelingit,sheflatteneditonherdesk.Sincethebarcodetattooscandalbroke,somepeopleactedasthoughallnanotechnologywassinister,but theydidn’tstoptorealize that nanotech made final-level stuff like these flexifones possible. She tapped in theGlobalHelixnumberplustheextensionforherfather ’sphone.

“Sorry,Ican’tfindyourdad,”apleasantfemalevoicesaid.“Thanks,Tilly,”Gracesaid,hittingtheENDbutton.OfcoursesheknewTillywasjustarobotic

voiceinsertedinherphone’sBrilliantchipbut theyspokesooftenthatTillywasapartofher life.WhoeverhadprogrammedtheBrilliantBot,asthedroidvoiceswerecalled,hadmadeitincrediblylifelike.

Ifherfatherwasindeedonthetenthsubfloor,thephonesignalwouldn’treachhim.She’dhavetousetheinternalGlobalHelixphonesystem.Butbeforeshecouldaskthesecretarytheretocontacthim,herfatherturnedthecornerfromthebankofgeneralemployeeelevators.

“Dad,Iwasjusttryingtogetholdofyou,”Gracetoldhim.AlbertMorrownoddedandsqueakedoutatightsmile,butsomethingtoldherhewasunhappy.

“Momsaysyouwentclimbingagainthismorning,”heremarkedashebrushedsomedirtfromthepocket of his gray coverall. Grace barely recognized him in any other clothes, since he’d beenworkinghereforaslongasshe’dbeenalive.

“Igotallthewayuptheintermediatewall,”Gracereplied,tryingtosoundasthoughshedidn’thave a good ideawhere this conversationwas headed. “Eric, this guywhoworks there, says he’sneverseenanyoneadvanceasfast.He’strainingfortheOlympicsin’28.”

“That’sgreat,butIthoughtwesaidyouweregoingtosaveallyoursummermoney.Youwanttogotocollege,don’tyou?”

“Climbingdoesn’tcostthatmuch.”“Grace…comeon.We’vetalkedaboutthis.”“Iknow…Iknow,”sheadmitted.Grace’sfamilyhadbeenhithardbythebarcodetattoo.Her

fatherhadbeennextinlinetoheadtheentireWestCoastmaintenancedivisionuntilhewasbarcoded.Almostinstantlyafterward,hisupwardrisewasreversed.She’dexpectedhimtobeangryaboutthis,but insteadhe’dresignedhimself to it.“Survivalof thefittest,”he’d toldher.“AndI likebeingmyownman.I’mnotmanagementmaterial.Global-1knowswhatit’sdoing.”Rheumatoidarthritisraninhis family line andhis bar code showedhehad the gene for it. In thewakeof the bar code tattooscandal, the government had ordered all contents of the bar code tattoos to be revealed. But theknowledge that the lines of the bar code tattoo contained eachperson’s uniquegenetic codedidn’trestorejobsorreverseanydecisionsmadebecauseofthetattoo.

Notwantingtopickafightovermoneywithherfather,Graceattemptedacompromise.“How

aboutifIgoclimbinglessoften?”“Howaboutyoudon’tgoatall?”herfathercountered.“ButIloveitandit’stheonlyfunIhave.OtherwiseI’mhereallthetime.”“Iknow—becauseI’mhereallthetime,too.NowwithMomsick,itwouldjustreallyhelpif

youwouldsaveyourmoney.”“Justtwiceaweek?”Gracepleaded.“Onceaweek,”herfathersaid.“Look,Grace,doyouwanttobeonthegymnasticsteamagain

thisyear?”“OfcourseIdo!”Gracecried.Shewasteamcaptainthisyear.“Well, the bill came yesterday.By the end ofAugust theywant the uniform fee and the team

travelfee.”“Canyoupayit?”Graceaskednervously.“Iwasgoingtoaskyoutopitchinhalffromyoursummerearnings,”hereplied.“You’renota

littlekidanymore.It’stimeyoutakesomeresponsibilityforyourownexpenses.”Gracehungherhead,lettingherhairfalllikeacurtain.Howshehatedthisyouhavetobemore

responsiblelecture.Shewashearingitmoreandmoreeveryday.Graceunderstoodthat thefamilywasfacinghard times.Butshecouldn’tstandthe ideaofnot

beingonthegymnasticsteam—orofgivinguprockwallclimbing.Onceaweekwouldbebetterthannotatall,shesupposed.

Butitmeantshe’donlyseeEriconceaweek.Rightwhensomethingwasstartingtohappen.“I’lltreatyoutoarockwallsessionforyourbirthday,”herfatheraddedinaconciliatorytone.Gracesmiledathim.“Thatwouldbegood.Agiftcardforsomerockclimbingwouldbeanice

birthdaygift,too.”“We’llsee.”Grace’sfatherkissedherlightlyonthetopofherhead.“TellMomnottocounton

mefordinner.I’mworkingadoubleshift.”“Allright,”Gracesaid.Herfatherheadedbacktowardtheelevators,andGracewatchedhimgo.

When people talked about how evil everyone at Global-1 was, this was not the man they werepicturing.Buthewasjustasloyalasanyscientist,anyadministrator.

Working here was a glimpse of the adult world, and Grace wanted to make the most of it.Rememberingherbirthday,andthetattoo,shehitabuttononthepanelinfrontofher.

“Personnel,”avoicespokeout.Grace leaned toward it. “Hi, this is Grace Morrow at the reception desk. I’m going to be

seventeenonSunday,andI’dliketomakeanappointmenttogetabarcodetattooonMondaywhenIcomebacktowork.Thanks.”

AsGracewaitedforherappointment tobeconfirmed,shepickedup thenewspaperTerrihadleftbehindandbeganreadingtheleadstory.

PasadenaSun Washington,D.C.—July8,2026

AMBROSEYOUNGTESTIFIESBEFORESENATE.CALLSGLOBAL-1EXECSLIARS!

Recently retired Senator Ambrose Young, longtime head of the Senate Domestic AffairsCommittee,appearedontheSenateflooryesterdaytocallforasecondfullSenateinvestigationofthemultinationalcorporationknownasGlobal-1.“Thefirstinvestigationwasnotsufficientlythorough,”hetoldtheSenate.“Global-1haswhitewashedtheaffair.Oncethisblowsover,theywill resume business as usual.Nothing short of dismantling this treacherous corporationwillsufficetosafeguardourlibertyfromtheseperniciousliars.”

SenatorYoungcalled for the repealofTheBarCodeTattooBill,claiming thatPresidentWaters and Global-1 had grossly misled the Senate and the public. Senator Young based hisaccusationsoninformationprovidedtohimanonymously.

“This is just another case ofYoung’s continued slander against our corporation and ournation,”Global-1spokespersonAdamRichardsaid inastatement.“Freedomofspeechallowshimtosaywhateverhewantstosay,butnothinghesaysisgroundedinfact.”

AlthoughSenatorYoungwouldnotdisclosehissources,Richard’sstatementnotedthattheformer senator ’s son,DavidYoung, is the driving force behind the dissident group,Decode,whichhasfoughtagainstthebarcodetattoosinceitsintroductionin2025.

DavidYoungwasajuniorsenatorfromMassachusettsbutresignedhisseatinprotestwhenthebillwaswritten into law.Aprimemover in lastDecember ’sprotest inWashington,DavidYoungwasamongthosejailedandforciblybarcoded.

AmbroseYounghascalledfortheimpeachmentofPresidentWaters,claimingthepresidenthad full knowledge of the true intent of the Global-1 program. President Waters hascategorically denied this charge, claiming that not even Global-1 itself was aware that thesethingswerehappening,puttingtheblameonasingledepartmentworkingwithoutcorporateorgovernment authorization. Ambrose Young has called for disciplinary action against thoseresponsibleforwhathecalls“egregiousviolationsofAmericanliberties,”butsofarGlobal-1hasrefusedtorevealthenamesinvolved.LawyersworkingforSenatorYoungarepreparingthelegalpaperworkneeded to force full disclosure fromGlobal-1. In addition, theYoung familyhas filed a private lawsuit against theWaters administration, claiming that David Young wasamongthosetargetedbyGlobal-1nanobotssaidtoinducedepressionandthoughtsofsuicidebyoverstimulationofthevagusnerve.

DavidYoung has not been seen in public formonths. In his testimony, Ambrose Youngclaimed he didn’t know where his son was. “I miss David but I can’t blame him for goingunderground. He has made some powerful enemies,” Ambrose Young told the press in aconferenceafterhisSenateappearance.“HisworkasheadofDecodeisfarfromover,nomatterwhatLoudonWatersandGlobal-1wouldlikeustobelieve.”

TheBarCodeTattooprogramwasresumedinAprilof thisyear.“Thebarcode tattoo isstill the lawof the land,”PresidentWaters told theHouse andSenate lastweek. “And citizensaged seventeen and above who do not get it will be prosecuted. Any new program has itsproblems at first, but the bar code’s initial difficulties have been ironed out— andwe thankSenatorYoungandhissonfortheireffortsinthatregard.Thebarcodetattooremainsourbesttoolforsafeguardingeverycitizeninthisdangerousworldweinhabit.”

“Grace?”hermothercalledfromthekitchenwhenGracewalkedintothehousethatevening.

“Dad’sworkingadouble,”Graceshoutedback,depositingher toteonachairandfishingherphonefromit.Herfavoritewaytorelaxbeforesupperwastocatchupontheday’seventsandgossipwithherbestfriend,Emma.

“Iknow.Hephoned.Also,someboycalledforyou.”“Onthehousephone?”Graceasked.Allherfriendscalledhercellnumber.“Yes.”Thatwasstrange.“Whowasit?”Graceasked.ShewantedittobeEric.Callingherathomewouldbeanotherbig

step.“Idon’trememberhisname.”“Mom!”Gracewailed,throwingherarmswideinfrustration.Grace’smotherappearedinthedoorway,seatedinthewheelchairshe’dbeenconfinedtoforthe

lastsixmonths.Noonecouldexplainthesuddenweaknessinherlegs,nomatterhowmanydoctorstheyconsulted.

“WashisnameEric?”“I’mnotsure.Who’sEric?”“Nobody.Didhesayanythingelse?”HermotherproducedaPost-Itnotewithanumberwrittenon it. “He said tocallhim.Who is

Eric?”“JustaguyIknow.”Gracedashedupthestairs,needingtheprivacyofherbedroom.“Out!Out!”sheshoutedather

twelve-year-oldsister,Kim,whowaslyingonthetwinbednexttoGrace’s,polishinghernails.“It’sjustasmuchmyroomasyours,”Kimprotested,continuingtoapplythesilvercolor.Sighingdeeply,Graceretreateddownthehalltothebathroom,lockingthedoorbehindher.She

sat on the edgeof the tub scrutinizing thephonenumber. Itwasn’t a number sheknew,whichwasgood;itmeantitcouldstillbeEric.Butwhyhadn’thecalledhercell?

Becausehedoesn’tknowmynumber! she realized.Hehadobviously lookedupher file at theindoorrockclimbingcenter,whichlistedherhomenumber.OratleastGracehopedso.

Quicklypunchinginthephonenumber,Gracewaitedonlyafewsecondsbeforeayouthfulmalevoicecameontheline,saying,“Speaktome,unknowncaller!”

“Eric?”Shewasn’tsurewhysheasked,sincesherecognizedhisvoice.“Grace!”“Yes,it’sme.Igotamessagetocallyou.”

“Yeah,great!Sorrytocallyourhouse.NowIhaveyournumber.”TherewasanawkwardpausebutGracedidn’tcare.EricChacahadcalledher!“So, anyway, here’s the thing,”Eric said after amoment. “Abunchof uswhoworkhere got

permissiontohaveakindofclimbingpartydownatthecentertonightafteritcloses.”“Soundsfun,”Graceremarked,herexcitementincreasing.“Doyouwanttocome?”Graceclosedhereyestightandpumpedherfistasshefoughtnottosquealjoyfullyoutloud.“Is

itjustforemployees?”sheasked,hopinghervoicedidn’trevealthatnothingonearthcouldstopherfromgoing.

“Mostly,butotherpeopleareinvitingfriends,andsoI’minvitingyou,”Ericreplied.“Canyoumakeit?We’remeetingupattentonight.Icancomebytopickyouupifyoulike.”

“Allright.Iliveat—”“I’vegotit,”Ericinterruptedher.“It’sinyourfile.I’llbethereatnine-thirty.”“Great.”Graceclickedoffthecallandreleasedthesuppressedcryofthrilledexcitement.Someonepoundedonthebathroomdoor.“Hey,whatareyoudoinginthere?Ihavetogetin,”

herfifteen-year-oldbrother,James,demanded.Openingthedoor,Gracesmiledintohisfreckledface.“Whatareyousohappyabout?”heasked.

“I’mjustnaturallyahappyperson,”Gracereplied,slidingpasthim.“It’sprobablysomeguy,”Jamesmutteredasheenteredthebathroom,shuttingthedoor.Grace was happy to see that Kim had left the room. She shut the door and quickly slid her

droid’sscreentoFACE-TO-FACEandtappedthephotoofherbestfriend,Emma.“Hologramorscreen?”Tilly’svelvetyauto-voiceinquired.“Hologram,”Gracereplied.“EricChacajustaskedmeout!”GracesaidtoEmmathemomentherfriend’sslightlytoo-vivid,

mildlytransparentimageappeared,hoveringjustaboveKim’sbed.“Finallevel,Grace!”Emmacried,hereyesshining,hershortneongreencurlsbouncing.“He’s

onlythemostfinal-levelboyinschool!”“Heis,isn’the?!”Graceagreed.“Imean,Ijustcan’tbelievehecalledme.EricChaca!”“Iknow!EricChaca!Tellmewhathesaid.Tellmeeverything!”AfterGracerecountedeverythingthathadhappened,Emmasaid,“It’sniceofyourparentstolet

yougooutsolateandwithaguyyoudon’tknowallthatwellandthattheydon’tknowatall.”“Hmmm,”Gracehummednervously.“Youhaven’taskedthemyet?”Emmaguessed.“Hmmm,”Gracerepeatedasherstomachclenchedanxiously.“You are going to ask for permission, aren’t you?”Emma checked, anxiety seeping into her

tone.Wasshegoingtoask?Gracewasn’tsure.Whatifhermothersaidno?HowcouldshetellEric

no,shewasn’tallowed?Itwouldsoundsojuvenile.Hemightnevercallheragain.“Grace?”Emmachecked.“Tellmeyou’renotgoingtosneakout.”“It’snotlikeI’dbedoingsomethingbad.”“Yes,youwould!You’dbesneakingoutofthehouseinthemiddleofthenight.”Emma’svoice

wasnowfullyalarmed.“Butnottodoanythingwrong,”Graceargued.“Idon’tknow,Grace.Doyoureallywanttobeinhugetroubleonyourbirthday?”“IfI’mcareful,Iwon’tbeinanytroubleatall,”Gracecountered.“Thenyouhadbetterbeawfullycarefulorit’sgoingtobeoneseriouslybanged-outbirthday.”

Gracedidn’tmentiontheDecodemessagetoEmma.Itjustwasn’tthekindofthingtheytalkedabout,soGracehadnoideahowshe’dreact.Rebellionwasn’tapartoftheirlives.Theylikedlivingwithin the lines, doing the things thatwouldmake their parents and their teachers happy.ThiswasprobablywhyEmmawassosurprisedthatGracewassneakingout.

Forherpart,Gracewassurprised,too—athoweasyitwastoconvinceherselftodoit.“Hey,”Emmasaidas theywereabout toend thecall.“Didyouhear there’sameteorheading

towardEarth?”“I heard about it,” Grace answered. “It’s going to pass us by. They always pass us by, don’t

they?”“That’s true,”Emma agreed. “If ameteor is going to smash into us, I guess there’s no sense

worryingaboutwhetherornotyougetcaughtgoingonasecretdate.”“Yeah,butit’snotgoingtohitus,”Graceremindedher.“Thenmaybeyoushouldworry,”Emmaallowed.

Grace’sluckwasholding.Rightafterdinner,Kimleftforasleepoveratherfriend’shouse.Then,ateighto’clock,Graceclaimedtohaveaheadacheandsaidshewasgoingtoherroomtoread.Byninefifteen,herhairandmakeupwerethewayshewantedandshehadonherjeans,silverhoopearrings,bestsneakers,andhernewlightweightT-shirt.

With pillows and clothing under her blankets tomake it look like shewas in the bed,Gracereachedoutherwindowuntil shewas able togetholdof thebranchof anoaknearherbedroom.Onceshehadafirmgrip,therestwaseasy.Gracehadclimbedthistreeallherlife.

Atabottombranch,Gracedropped to theground.Notevendaring tobreathe, shekept in theshadowsasshemadeherwaytothefrontofthehouse.Theneighborhoodwasquiet.Everytimeacarcameupthestreet,Gracepulledbackfartherintothedarkness,afraiditmightbeherfatherreturningfromwork.

Maybesheshouldn’tbedoingthis,sheconsidered.Herparentswouldbesodisappointedinherif they discovered what she’d done. She should probably phone Eric and cancel. He’d have tounderstand.

Anoldblackhybridsportscarpulledinfrontofthehousewithitstopdown.TheminuteGracesawEricinthedriver ’sseatsheheadedforit,allherreservationsforgotten.Shereturnedhissmile,thrilledthatheseemeddelightedtoseeher.

“Hopin,”hesaid,pushingthepassengerdooropen.Gracewas relievedwhen they finally turned the corner away from her house. She’dmade it

withoutgettingcaught.“It’sniceofyourbosstoletyouusetheclimbingcenterafterhours,”shetoldEric.Shecouldn’t

tellwhetherherheartwasbeatingfromthethrillofescapeortheexcitementofthedestination.“He’sagoodguy.Andheapprovesofwhatwe’redoing,”Ericsaid.“Whatdoyoumean?”Graceasked.“Whatareyoudoingbesideshavingaparty?”Eric stuckhis chip-sizedmusicplayer into anopening in thedashboard and loud rockmusic

instantly blared,making it impossible to talk further.When theywere about five blocks from theclimbing center, he switched the music off and parked. “Let’s do the rest on foot. It will looksuspiciousiftherearealotofcarsintheparkinglot.”

“Ithoughtyouwereallowedtobethere,”Gracesaid,suddenlynervous.She tooka long,hard lookatEric.Howmuchdid she reallyknowabouthim?Theclimbing

prowess,ofcourse.SheknewhisparentswereNativeAmericanandlivedinadevelopmentacrosstown.SheknewhebelievedinDecodeanddidn’tlikeGlobal-1.Otherthanthat…therewasn’tmuch.

Shewastakingthewayshefeltabouthimonfaith,butshewasn’tnaïveenoughto thinkthiswasasafewaytojudgeaperson.

“Theownerknowswe’rethere,buttheGlobal-1copsdon’t,”Ericexplained.Thisdidn’tmakeherfeelmuchbetter.“Global-1cops?”sheasked.“Whydoyou…?”Gracelethervoicetrailoffandhurriedtokeep

upwithEric,whowasmovingquicklyaheadofher.Shedidn’twanttoturnback,butshewasmuchmorecautiousaboutgoingforward.Thefactthat

theywerehidingfromGlobal-1policecouldn’tmeananythinggood.Ifshewoundupintroublewiththe police her parents would never forgive her. Shemight lose her job.What would it do to herchancestogotocollege?

Whyhadshedonethis?MaybeshecouldcatchaBullit-Busbackhome.Sensingthis,Ericsloweddownandturnedtoher.“Iseesomethinginyou,”hetoldher,notmeetinghereyes.Whatdidhesee?Becauseof thewayhewasnot lookingather,Gracefelthewasn’tbeingevasive, justbashful

again.Howoddtothinkthatshe,nobodyGrace,couldmakeahighschoolsuperstarlikeEricshy.“I’veseenitinthewayyouclimb,”Ericwenton.“Nowadays,youcantellthepeoplewhohavea

capacityfortruthandthepeoplewhodon’t.You,”hesaid,finallymatchinghergaze,“haveacapacityfortruth.”

“Howcanyoutellsomethinglikethat?”Graceasked.Shewasn’tfishingforacompliment.Hiswordsmystifiedher.

“Idon’tknow.”Ericliftedhischinandseemedtobetryingtofindthewordsheneeded.“Ithinkit’sinyoureyes.They’reclearanddirect.”Hesmiled.“Nottomentionbeautiful.”

“Thanks,”Gracemurmured.“I see it in thewayyouclimb, too,”Eric added. “You’rephysically strong, andonceyou see

whereyouneedtogoyouheadstraightforit.Noteveryoneislikethat.Theydoubtwhattheirgutistellingthemsotheyfumbleandslip,butyoutrustyourinnertruth.Inside,you’restrong.Youhavearealcenter,acore.”

“Ihopethat’salltrue,”Gracesaid,flattered.“IknowI’mright,”Ericsaid.“Youcanhandletruth.”ItshockedGracethatErichadgivenherthatmuchthought.Iftheywereatthemoviesorinthe

cafeteria,hiswordswouldhavedelightedherbeyondmeasure.Buttheyweren’tataCineplexorinschool. They were standing outside the supposedly closed climbing center in the dark, worryingaboutGlobal-1policeseeingthem.

Whattruthwashegoingtoreveal?Whatwasithewassocertainshecouldhandle?Andevenifshecouldhandleit,didshewantto?Grace’sgutclenchedandshehadthefeelingherlifewasabouttochange,andshewasn’tsure

shewanteditto.

Theydidn’tneedtobreakin,orforceentry.Ericsimplywavedhisbarcodeacrossthescanner,andthedooroftherockclimbingcenterbreezedopen.Gracetooksomecomfortinthis—itmeanttheownerdefinitelyhadtobeonboard,orelseEricwouldn’thavestampedhisinformationintheentrydata.

Theplacewasdimlylit,butGraceheardthemurmurofsoftvoices,evenbeforeshecouldseeanypeopletalking.

As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she became aware that the hum of conversation wascomingfrompeoplewhohunginmidair,theirbackstowardher,facingaway.Onlyafewstoodontheground,holdingbelayclimbingropesattachedtothefloatingpeople.

PlacingherhandonEric’sarm,Gracelookedathimwithalarm.Whatwasgoingon?EricsmiledatGrace’sbewilderment.“They’reholographicstealthwalls,”heexplained.“During

thedaywehavethemampedupsothey’realittletransparentbutviewable.”Graceknewwhathemeant.Thewallsalwayshadaslightwaveringquality.Sometimesshefelt

asthoughshewereclimbingupawaterfall.“Thewalls are really thereof course, otherwiseyou couldn’t climb.Butwhen they’re on the

lowestsetting,thehumaneyecan’tseethematall,”Ericcontinued.“Sothesepeopleareclimbing,notfloating,”Gracerealized.“Buthowcantheyclimbwithout

seeing?”“Practice.”Graceshothimalookofdisbelief.“Really?”“Ittakesalotofpractice,memorization,andintuition.Wanttotry?”“It’ssoweird.Idon’tthinkIcould.”“Wecanstartwiththeintermediatewallyoudidtoday.I’llset itsoyoucanseeitdimly.Then

eachtimeyoucompletethewall,I’llpushitbackuntilthewalldisappearscompletely.I’llspotyouonbelay.”

“Allright,”Graceagreed,warmingtothechallenge.Shewouldhavethoughtthisimpossibletodo,butobviouslypeopleweredoingit.

Gracewatchedas,frombehindthefrontdesk,Ericbroughtintoviewawallthathadpreviouslybeen invisible.Strappingon the climbingharnessErichandedher, shehookedonto the rope.Erictooktheotherend.“Onbelay,”hesaid,toletherknowhehadholdofit.

GraceflashedbacktothefirsttimeErichadspottedher.Theretheywere—heronthewall,himontheground,theropetightbetweenthem.Itwassuchapowerfulconnection,restingyourbalance,yourheight,yoursafetyonanotherperson.Notonlydidhehavetokeepherfromfalling,buthehadtoreadeverymoveshemade,reacteffortlesslytoherpainstakingclimb.Itfeltawkwardatfirst,but

afterawhile,shedidn’thavetothinkaboutitanymore.Thefaithwasthere.Thetrustbetweenthemwasassolidasthewall,thefloor,andtherope.

Now,forabriefmoment,shefelthimontheotherend.Theweightofhim.Theforceofhim.Thecertaintythathewouldbethere,nomatterwhathappened,nomatterwhatsheneededassherose.

Havingjustcompletedthewallthatafternoon,Gracescurriedupwithouttoomuchdifficultyandquicklyrappelleddown.

“Final level!” Eric praised herwhen shewas on the ground again. “If I didn’t know better, Iwouldthinkyou’vebeendoingtheintermediateforyears.Youlooksoconfident.I’llmakeitdimmernow,okay?”

“I’dlike to try itoncemore,”Gracerequested, just tobesure.“Iwant toreallyget it intomymemory.”

“Ifyouthinkyoureallyneedto,”Ericagreed.Whenshe’dcompleted thewall a second time,Ericoncemore suggestedmaking itharder to

see.“Thinkyoucanhandleit?”hechallengedplayfully,hiseyesshining.“Sure,”shesaid,thoughshewasn’tsureatall.EricwenttothefrontdeskandGracekepthereyesonthewallasitslowlyfaded.Hereyesight

wasexcellentbutnowshewassquintinginherattempttokeepthewallinfocus.Itwaveredinfrontofher;sometimesshecouldn’tseepartsofitatall.

“Tryitnow,”Ericsaid,returningtogroundher.Withanervousnod,Gracesurveyedthewallandsawadarkenedsquarejustaboveherheadand

thoughtsheremembereditasahandhold.Reaching,shegrippedit.Frommemory,sheliftedherkneeandfoundaprotrusionshecouldstandon.Tensingherabdominalmuscles,Gracepulledherselfup.

“That’stheway,”Ericencouraged.Theprotrusion shewas standingonappearedanddisappearedas thoughwavesof invisibility

werewashingoverit.Aboveherhead,Grace sighted anotherprotrusion, reached for it—andmissed!Wavingher

arms,shefellawayfromthewall.“I’vegotyou,”Ericreassuredherassheswungontherope,herfeetkicking.“Focusonthewall.

Findyourwayback.”Grace’sstomachseemedtotwistandwarmliquidbileroseintohermouth.Thefreakinessofthe

wallwasthrowingoffherbalanceandnauseatingher.Donotpuke,shecommandedherbody.Tohertremendousrelief,herinsidessettledafteramoment.“Okayupthere?”Ericchecked.“Okay,”sheconfirmed.“Gobackandfindsomemoreholds,”Ericinstructed.“Takeasecondtorememberwherethey

were.Ifyourelaxyoureyesandletyourfocusgosoft,youcanseethem.”Gracediscovered that thiswas true. If she stopped squinting, apatternof lights emerged.She

quicklyrealizedthatthelightswereprotrusions.Withthisnewunderstandingofthewall,shebegantoclimboncemore.“Lastlevelofinvisibility?”Ericaskedwhenshehadoncemorerappelleddowntothefloor.“Oh…Idon’tknow,”Gracedemurredbreathlessly.“Idon’tthinkIcan.”“Iknowyoucan,”Ericinsisted.“Whydon’tyoudoone?”Gracesuggested.“Allright.”“I’llworkthebelayrope,”Graceoffered.“Don’tneedit,”Ericrepliedasheunhookedhiscarabinerfromtherope.“You’regoingtofreeclimb?”

Withanod,Ericwentbehindthecounterandbrought thewalldownsothat itwascompletelyimpossible to see. Returning, he jumped up and appeared to hang in midair. In a minute he wasscramblingup,over,andbackdown.

Gracewastransfixed.Ericonhisownwasbeautiful,certainly.ButseeingEricsomuchinhiselement,seeinghimsoextraordinaryatsomething,wasahigherpowerofbeauty.

“Yourturn,”EricsaidashelandednexttoGrace.“Thatwasamazing.Icouldneverdothat,”Gracesaid.“Sureyoucould,”Ericinsisted.“Lookatalltheseguysdoingit.”HespreadhisarmandGrace

wasoncemoreawareofalltheotherclimberswhoseemedtohanginmidair.Noneofthemmovedwiththesamespeed,fluidity,orself-confidenceasEricdid.Theywentmoreslowlyandmethodically—buttheywereclimbing.“Youcouldbebetterthananyofthem,”Ericremarked.“Youhavethestufftobeaworld-classclimber.LikeIsaid,I’vebeenwatchingyou.”

“Betterthanyou?”Graceaskedwithatauntingsmile.“Let’snotget crazy,”Eric teasedback. “Youhave the talent, for sure—butyoualsohave to

havethegutsforit.”ThethinlyveileddarewasallGraceneededtohear.Neverinherlifehadshebeenabletowalk

awayfromadirectchallenge.“I’mnotfreeclimbing,though,”sheinsisted.“Notyet,”Ericagreed.“Ofcoursenot.Thatwouldbestupid.”Oncetheywereagainconnectedbybelayropes,Gracewasreadytotry.“Thistimeallowyour

mindtobesoft,”Ericadvised.“Don’tthink,justmove.You’vedonethiswallabunchoftimesnow.Yourbodyrememberstheway.Letittakeover.”

Graceexhaledinanervouswaver.“I’lltry.”“Breathedeepbeforeyoustart,”Ericsuggested.Closinghereyelids,Graceinhaled,pullingtheairdownintoherlungsbeforeexpellingitwitha

whoosh.Instantlyhershouldersloosened,droppingslightly.“Don’tthinkaboutanythingbutyourbreath,”Ericcoached.“Staystilluntilyou’reready.”InGrace’smindshesawapictureof thewall as ithadbeenduring thedaywhen itwas fully

visible;thenshepushedtheimageawayandbegantoclimbupward.

Grace admired Eric’s profile as they drove through the dark streets on the return trip to Grace’shouse.Therewas something strong andpeaceful about the linesof his chin andnose.Sensinghergazeonhim,Ericturned.“Youarereallyastellarclimber,”hecomplimentedher.“Totallyastral!Ican’tbelievethewayyoutookthatinvisiblewall—andonyourfirsttry,too.”

“IalmostfellwhenIgottothetop,”Graceremindedhim.“Almostdoesn’tcount.”Heglancedattheclockonthedashboard.“Hey!Twelve-o-two.Happy

Birthday!”“Thanks!”Theywerealmosttoherhouse,andGracedidn’twanttohavehimpullrightinfront.Itwouldbe

safer if shecut through thebackyardbehind andwent silentlybackup theoak tree intoher room.“Turnhere,”sheinstructedEric.Whenheaskedwheretheyweregoing,Gracetoldhimherplan.

“Youmeanyouweren’tsupposedtocomeouttonight?”heasked.“No,Ididn’task,”sheadmittedwithashrug.“Iwantedtogo.I’mgladIdid,too.Climbingthat

invisiblewallwasbeyondstellar.Iwouldn’thavemisseditforanything.”Withagrin,Ericpulledtothesidewalkandcuttheengine.“Wecandoitagainsoon.”Hiswordspleasedher,andGracesilentlyvowedtobecomeevenbetteratclimbing,nomatter

what.Nottoimpresshim.Notatall.Buttobethatgoodatit.

AthoughtfullookcameintoEric’seyes.Eveninthedark,shewassoawareofthem.“AreyoureallygoingtobetattooedonMonday?”heasked.

Thetattoo.She’dgoneforhourswithoutthinkingaboutit.“Sure,”shesaid.“Whynot?”Ericlightlytookholdofherwrist,rightatthespotwherethetattoowouldgo.“Don’tdoit,”he

said.Gracestaredathimquestioningly.“Youdidit,”shepointedoutoncemore.Eric’seyesmovedaroundherfaceasifheweretakinghermeasure,tryingtodecidesomething

abouther.Thenhelookedaway.“Itoldyou,I’mnotsureitwastherightthingtodo.”“Whynot?”Eric’schangingexpressiontoldGracehewasonthevergeoftellinghersomething…butthen

decidedagainstit.“Noreason.Justafeeling,”hesaid,lookingaway.“Tellme,”shesaid,surehewasholdingback.“Delayitawhile,”hesuggested.Itwasnotthefullanswershe’dwanted.“Whatgoodwouldthatdo?”sheasked.“IfIgetcaught

without it, I’llbearrested.Myfamilywillhave topaymylegal fees.Theycan’tafford that.Plus, Idon’twanttostartmyadultlifewithacriminalrecord.”

SomethinginEric’seyesclosedoff.Heseemeddisappointedbyherwords,andithurtherthathethoughtlessofher.Butwhatelsedidhewanthertosay?Thatwashowthingsseemedtoher.

“You’dbettergethome,”Ericsaid.Clearly,hewasdonewiththeconversation.“It’sgettinglate.”“TellmewhyyouthinkIshouldn’tgetthetattoo,”Gracerepeatedsoftly.“Please.”Heshookhishead.“Nottonight.”“What is it?” Grace pressed. “You said I could handle the truth, but you haven’t told me

anything.”Hadhechangedhismindabouther?Ithurttothinkthatmightbeso.“Sometruthsarebetternottoknow,”hesaid.“Stopthat!”Graceinsisted,feelingannoyed.Whyhadhegivenhersomuchtalk,flatteringher

thatshewasstrongandcouldbe trustedonly togiveuponhernow?“Tellmewhat’sgoingon. Ifthere’ssomethingI’munawareof,thenIwanttoknowwhatis.You,yourself,saidIcouldhandleit.”

“Wecantalkmoretomorrow,ifyoulike,”Ericsaid,andsomelightcamebackintohisblackeyes, as if the shut door had been cracked open a bit. “Are you doing anything special for yourbirthday?”

“Mymomusuallycooksmyfavoritedinnerandmakesacake. I’mhopingforagiftcardforsomesessionsonthewall.”

“Iknowitgetsexpensive,”Ericsaid.“Listen,I’llgowithyoutoyourhousetomakesureyougetinsafe.”

“Juststandandwatch.Ionlyhavetocutthroughthatyard.”Theygotoutof thecarandentered themoonlityard,keeping to thedarkerareas.Theystood

close,andforamomentGracethoughtEricmightkissherthereintheshadows.Shehopedhewould,buthemadenomove towardherandshesuddenlyfelt foolishstanding therewaiting.“Thanksfortonight,”shewhispered,movingaway.

WhenGracearrivedat theoakbyherbedroomwindow,shewavedbroadlyandEricgaveanansweringwavebeforeslippingoffintothedarkness.

Asshebegantoclimbtheoak,shereviewedthenight.ShelikedEricsomuchandheseemedtolikeher,too.Buttherewasobviouslysomethinghewasn’ttellingher.Itmadeheruneasy.

Whatwashehiding?

PasadenaSun Washington,D.C.—July9,2026

NASAORDERSEVACUATIONOFTHEINTERNATIONALSPACESTATIONUNTILMETEOR1SAFELYPASSESEARTH

In a press conference today in the White House Rose Garden, President Loudon Watersexpressedtheopinionthat“NASA’spanickyevacuationoftheInternationalSpaceStation(ISS)constitutesanextremeoverreactionandawasteofNASA’smonetaryresources.”

NASA insists that although astronomers feel confident that the giant meteor will bypassEarth, systemsare inplace in theunlikelyevent that therehasbeenanerror incalculating thevelocity and/or trajectoryof the approachingcelestialboulder.Thecontroversial approachofmeetingamenacingmeteorwithnuclearrocketsisoncemorebeingdebatedinCongressandtheSenate.AlthoughnuclearmissilescouldbeusedtoexplodethemeteorbeforeitreachesEarthorknockitoffitsdeadlypath,theeffectsoftheresultingradiationrainingdownontheEarthcouldbe,initself,catastrophic.

“In themeantime,wefeel itprudent toevacuate thespacestationandgo todronebackuptechnologyuntilthemeteorissafelyonitsway,”saysaNASArepresentative.

NEDRA,aprivatecommercialspacestationownedbyGlobal-1,hasnoplanstoevacuate.NEDRA competes with ISS, offering its scientific findings for sale to individuals or othercompanieswillingtopurchaseitsresearch.

Inananonymousopinionpieceappearingintoday’sNewYorkTimes,acontributorwidelybelieved to be formerSenatorDavidYoung, leader of thebar code resistancegroupDecode,callsthissituationjustthelatestinGlobal-1’sbidstogaincontrolofouterspaceandcornerthemarketonspacetravel.“Theircarelessdisregardforhumanlifeisoncemoretheirtrademarkandcallingcard,”Mr.Youngwrote.“Afterallthathashappened,whyisthisamoralcorporationstill being permitted to operate? If we let them get their foothold in outer space, with theirprivatelyheldsatellitesandspacestations,therewillbenofightingthemhereonEarth.”

China andRussiahave followedNASA’s lead inbringing their peopledown from space.TheyhaveurgedGlobal-1todothesame.

OnMonday,GracetooktheGlobalHelixelevatortothefourth-floorpersonneloffice.Themomenthadarrived.Thebarcode tattoowas theriteofpassage thatwouldmarkherasanadult.Andwhatchoicedidshe reallyhave?The lifeofanoutlaw, runningandworkingagainst thebarcode tattoowasn’tforher.Itwouldallbefine.

WhenGracegotofftheelevator,shesawagirlsheknewfromalowergradeinschoolwhohadajobasadata-inputassistantforthesummer.“Hey,”saidthegirl,whosenameGracecouldn’trecall.“Whatbringsyouuphere?”

Graceflashedherwrist.“Gettingthe’too.”“Awesome.HappyBirthday!”“Itwasyesterday,butthanks.”A rush of anxiety ran through Grace as she sat waiting in the tattoo office.When the nurse

appeared, she smiled at Grace as she took a blood sample, working the needle with a skillful,practiced touch.Gracewaitedwhile the nurse disappeared into the next room and returnedwith ablackmachineaboutthesizeofatoasteroven:thelasertattooingmachine.

Withthenurse’sguidance,Graceslidherupturnedwristintothemachine.Itcausedonlyaslightburningsensationasthebluelaserlightsetchedthefirsttwosectionsofthebarcodetattooontotheinsideofherwrist.Numbers,words,andsymbolswhirredbyonaread-outasthelasersworked.

With an unexpected abruptness, the machine whirred to a halt. Grace looked at the nursequizzically.“Whyarewestopping?”sheasked.

ThenursepouredthevialofGrace’sbloodthatshe’ddrawnintoaglasscompartmentbuiltintothemachine.“Weenteredyourvital informationfromadiscthat’sbeencompiledonyou.Nowthemachinewillanalyzeyourbloodtoaddyourgeneticinformation.”

“Ithoughtthat’sillegalnow,”Graceobjected,alarmed.The nurse smiled confidently. “The system has been refined so that only authorizedmedical

practitionerscanaccessyourgenetics.Employersandinsurancecompaniescan’tseeit.Havingreadyaccesstothisinformationcouldsaveyourlifesomeday.”

“HowdoIknowthat’strue?”Gracequestioned.The nurse scowled lightly and shook her head, silently scolding Grace for her mistrust.

“PresidentWaterssignedthatbillintolawjustlastweek.It’sagainstthelawforanyoneelsetoaccessthatinformation.Youdon’thavetoworry.”

Gracenoddeduncertainly.Wasitparanoidnot to trustwhat thiswomanwastellingher?Whatreasonwouldshehavetolie?

Eric’svoicecamebacktoher.Don’tdoit.Butthenshesawherfather ’sface.He’dworkedhereallhis life.Didn’tsheoweGlobal-1that

muchtrust?“Whichkindof bar code tattoo doyouwant?” the nurse asked. “You canhave the traditional

rectangleofbarsorthenewsquareoneswiththebarsinside.”“Idon’tknow,”Gracereplied.“Thenewonesarekindofcoollooking.”“Notasmanyplacestakethemyet.Theyneedaspecialupgradedscanner,”thenursepointedout.

“Ontheotherhand,somepeoplelikethembecausetheydon’tlookliketheoldones.Itmakespeoplefeelsafer.”

“Butisitreallyanysafer?”Graceasked.Thenurseshookherheadandsmiled.“They’rebothperfectlysafenow.”Oncethebloodwasinthetattoomachine,thebluelaserlightsappearedoncemore.Inaninstant,

thebarcodetattoowasemblazonedonGrace’sinnerwrist.Shewithdrewherhand,rubbingawaytheburningsensation.Thenursehandedheracoolcloth.“Infiveminutesyouwon’tevenfeel it,”shepromised.

AstrangeelationmixedwithsadnesssweptoverGrace.Itwasdone.Therewasnoturningbackfromit,nomoredeciding.

“It’slikeclosingadooronyourchildhood,isn’tit?”thenursesaidkindly,readingtheanxietyinGrace’sexpression.

“Inaway,”Graceadmitted.Thenursegotup.She’dhadthisconversationmanytimesbefore,nodoubt.“You’llgetusedtoit

veryquickly.”Shedisplayedherownbarcodetattoo.“Soonyouwon’trememberhowyoueverlivedwithoutit.”

As Grace headed toward the elevator, she was so engrossed in her bar code tattoo that shewalkedrightintothetallfigurestandinginherpath.“Dr.Harriman!”shecriedwhenshelookedupandsawwhoitwas.“I’msosorry.”

“You’ve been bar coded,” Dr. Harriman observed. Grace was immediately struck by howconcernedhelooked.

“Yes,”shetoldhim.“I’mseventeennow.”His expression twisted into one of self-reproach. “Of course you are. How could I have

forgotten?”Whatwashetalkingabout?Whyshouldheevenknowherbirthdate?“Dr.Harriman?”Graceasked.Clutching Grace’s wrist, Dr. Harriman examined her bar code tattoo. “Go home, Grace,” he

ordered.“Rightaway.Waitformyphonecall.”“What’swrong?”Hewasscaringher.“Isn’ttheBarCodeallrightnow?”“No,it’snotallright.Notallrightatall!”Thisdidn’tmakeanysense.Dr.Harrimanhadinventedthebarcodetattoo.Gracewantedtoturn

backtothenurse,toaskifshewasimaginingthings.ButDr.Harriman’sgripwastootight,tooreal.Hiswordsweretoourgent.

“Tellmewhyit’snotallright,”Gracesaid,pointingtohistattooedwrist.“Youhaveone.”“Mineisdeactivated.AndIwishtoGodI’dneverbegunthiscursedthing.”MaybeEricwasgettingtoher,becausethemomentDr.Harrimansaidthis,sheexpectedGlobal-

1policetocomestormingin,topinthembothtotheground.Sheexpectedthewallstocaveinandthegroundtoshake,becausethat’swhatlisteningtothismanfeltlike.

Butnoneofthathappened.Itwasjusttwopeopleinthehallwayofacorporation,oneofthemholdingontotheotherfordearlife.

“Whatdoyoumeanbythat?Pleasetellme,”Gracepleaded.There’s a good man, her father had said when she was a child every time Dr. Harriman had

walkedby.Greatmenaren’talwaysgood,butthisoneis.“And now you! This has happened to you,”Dr. Harrimanmuttered. Then he came back into

focus—notwithanyanswers,buttorepeathisinstructions.“Gohome,”hetoldher.“Gohomeasifnothingelseintheworldmatters.”

He looked around, tomake sure therewas nobody else nearby. Then he hurried off, leavingGracestandingalone,bewildered,andfrightened.

Grace’s natural first instinct was to call her father. Heading to the nearest inter-office imagephone,shepunchedinthenumbersforthemaintenancedepartment,desperateforhimtobethere.Hewoulddispelherworries.Healwayshadagoodwayofcalmingher.

Butallshegotwasthedepartmentsecretary,whotoldher,“Sorry,dear,hewasn’tscheduledtoworktoday.”

Gracepunchedherhomenumberintoherdroidcell.“Face.Screen.Idon’tcare!”shecriedwhenTilly’svoicecameonaskingforinstructions.

“Screenonly,”Tillychose.Gracecriedoutwithexasperationwhenthehomevoicemailcameon.Whereiseveryone?Gracehurrieddowntothefrontdesk,whereTerrihadbeencoveringforher.“Isitdone?”Terriasked,lookingupfromhermagazine.“I’m so embarrassed,” Grace told her, “but getting the tattoo made me a little light-headed.

Wouldyoumindstayinghere?IthinkIneedtogohomeandliedown.”“Noproblem,”Terrisaidkindly.“Feelbetter.”Gracequicklygatheredherthings,makingsuretoonlytakewhatshe’dordinarilytakehomefor

thenight.Therestwouldbeleftbehind.WhydoIfeellikeI’mnevercomingbackhere?Itwassuchastrangesensation,thisinstinct.Butitfeltlikecertainty.WhenIgethome,everythingwillbebetter,shetoldherself.Butthosewordsalsofelthollow,asifshealreadyknewbetter.

TheBullit-BusleftGraceoffonlyafewblocksfromherhouse.Atfirstshehurriedtowardit,eagerto findherparents, butGrace slowedher approachas shenearedherhome, andaheavywarinesscameuponher.Pushingbackherhair,shesurveyedthescene.Thefrontdoorwasopen.Sowasthegarage—andbothcarsweregone.Noone,notevenJamesorKim,wouldhaveleftthehousewideopen like this. Itwasone thing for themtobegone,butquiteanother for it tobeso recognizable.Theywantedhertoknow:We’renothere.

Butwherehadtheygone?Andwhyhadtheyrunoffsofast?Gracewasafewhousesaway,hangingbackbehindthetrees,whenshenoticedtheSUVparked

atthecurbwithG1SPwrittenonit.GLOBAL-1SECURITYPOLICE.ThelowflameoffearburninginGrace’sgutflaredintofull-blownpanic.WhatwereG-1policedoinginherhouse?Theyhavemyfamily,shethought,andatthatmomentshewasreadytogotothem,toturnherself

in,inordertogetthemfree.But then she thought,No.Because if thepolicehad takenher family, theywouldhave left the

cars.Herfamilyhadgottenaway.Shehadtobelieveit.AGlobal-1officersteppedontothefrontwalkwearingtheusualuniform:blackhelmetwitha

mirroredglassvisor,blackpants,andblackshirt.Theslightlypaddedbulletproofvestheworeborethe taser, laser guns, and ammunition of his profession. Turning his head slowly, he surveyed theneighborhood,hishandheldlaserrifleattheready.

“Hey!Grace!”Ericwaswalkingdownthedrivewaynearesther,movingatafastclip.Hisvoicewaslow,insistent.

“Eric!”Gracegasped,surprisedtoseehim.Hecameclose,wrappinghisfingersaroundherarm,drawinghernearertohim.“Theresheis!”theofficeracrossthestreetcalledtosomeone.Threemorepoliceofficersran

outofthehouseandbeganrunningtowardEricandGrace.StillgraspingGrace’sarm,Erictookoff,propellingherforward.Astreamofelectricredcrackledpasthercheek,scorchingashrubjustinfrontofher.Thethree

G-1police cut a diagonal path across the street.Ablaring truckhornhurtGrace’s ears as a largetractor trailer careened onto the road, blocking her view of the approaching police. The truck’sbrakesscreechedasitstoppedandthebacktrailerdoorsopened.

The young man standing in the tractor trailer looked just like Mfumbe Taylor from theholographicDecodevideo.

“Go!Go!”Ericurgedhertoruntothetruck.Therewasnotimetothinkaboutit—shejusthad

todoit.Theyoungmaninthetruckreacheddowntohelpherup,pullingherinasshejumpedup.Ericleapedinbesideher.

Astheyslammedthebackdoorsshutagain,anotherjaggedredlinebuzzedthedoorhandle.The truck lurched forward, throwing Grace back into its interior. In a moment they were

speedingforward.Erickneltbesideher.“Youokay?”hechecked.“Ithinkso.What’shappening?”Graceshuthereyesandtriedtoordertheeventsofthepastday

andahalfasbestshecould.Buttheyresistedorder,orlogic.Itwasahaywiremess,fullofjaggedholes.

Normallifealreadyseemedlikealifetimeago,likeshewasnowactingoutalifethatbelongedtosomeoneelse.Atwhatmomenthadthisnewlifebegun?Asthetruckracedon,shetriedtopinpointit.

Somehoweverything that happenedhad led to this strange andunlikelymoment that shenowfoundherselfin—speedingtowardsomewhereunknowninthebackofatractortrailer.

Waitformyphonecall,Dr.Harrimanhadsaid.Butitwastoolateforthatnow.Itwastoolateforhertogohome,toolatetoseeifherfamilyhadleftheranyword,anyinstructions.ItwastoolatetocallEmma,toolatetodoanythingwithoutfearofgettingsomeoneshelovedintrouble.

Itwasdark in thebackof the truck,with scant light trickling in from theoutside.Shehadnosenseofwhereshewasanymore,andbarelyhadasenseofwhoshewaswith.Inthenear-dark,shelooked at herwrist, tried tomake out the details of theBarCode.But theywere as unreadable asanythingelseaboutherlife.Otherpeoplemightknowthetruthofit,butshedidn’t.

Timepassed.Shehadnosenseofhowmuchtime.Shecouldhavecheckedherphone,butErichadtakenitfromherandimmediatelydislodgedthebatteryandtheinfo-simcard.He’dthrownthephoneforcefullyoutthebackofthetruck,thensmashedthesimcardunderhisfoot,grindingitwiththeheelofhisboot.

“Youcouldhavejustturneditoff,”Gracegrumbled,upsettoseeherphone,especiallyTilly,soutterlydestroyed.FormostofherlifeherAndroidcellphonehadbeenherlinkwithfriends,family,andtheworldingeneral.Itwasonallthetime.Graceevensleptwithitunderherpillow.AndTilly,ina crazy way, had become her guide, always tracking her location by satellite so she could directGracetothenearestpublicbathroom,thebestrestaurant, theclosestbankATMandsomuchmore.WithoutTilly’ssoothingvoice,withoutthephone’scomfortingconnections,Gracefeltlost—solostthatherstomachclenchedwiththestressofit.

“I couldn’t just turn it off,”Eric said, still standingby the backdoor of the truck. “It emits asignalevenwhenit’snoton.Everypartofitdoes.”

ThetruckswervedjustasEricopenedthebackdooroncemoreandhurledthephonebatteryout.Hegrinned,watchingitgo.“Finallevel!”hecheered.Heturnedbacktoher,stillsmilingashelatchedthedoor.“GotitrightintoHollowbrookCreek.Letthemtrytofindthat!Aslongasthatphoneisinyourpossession,offoron,Global-1canfindyou.”

“WhyamIhidingfromGlobal-1atall?”Graceneededtoknow.“What’shappening?”“Doesitscareyou?”Ericasked,duckingthequestion,inGrace’sopinion.“Yeah,itdoes,”Graceadmitted.“OfcourseI’mscared!I’dbestupidnottobescared.”“Trynottobe,”Ericadvised,“becausethisisonlythestart.Thewildrideisjustbeginning.”

Whenthespeedingtruckfinallystopped,Mfumbe—andshewasnowcertainitwashim—openedthedoor.EricandGracejumpeddownbesidehim.Awomaninherearlythirties,dressedinjeansandaT-shirt,descendedfromthedriver ’sseatandwalkedtowardthem.

Theywere underneath the LosAngeles freeway. Thewoman introduced herself asKatie andextendedherhandtoGrace.

Graceshookhandsandtrainedhereyesonthewoman’sface.“Havewemetbefore?”sheasked.Thewomanlookedsofamiliarandyetshecouldn’tfigureoutwhy.

“Youmighthaveseenpicturesofmeinthepaperslately,”Katiereplied.“TheycalledmeDusatheDrakianMenaceinsomeofthepapers,oratleasttheonesGlobal-1owns,whichisalotofthem.”

“That’sit!IsawastoryaboutyouontheTV,”Gracerecalled.Aboutsixmonthsearlier,Gracehadsatdownbesidehermother,whowaswatchingtheTVreportwithavidinterest.SherememberedthereporterexplainingthatDrakianswereanoffshootofDecode,amuchmoreviolentgroupwhoseillegaltacticsviolatedthelawandmadeitsmemberssubjecttoarrest.

“Iknowwhichshowyousaw,”Katiesaidwithabittersmilethatroseupalittlehigherontherightsideofherfacethanontheleft.“Itwasabatchoflies.WeliketomessupGlobal-1anychancewegetbecausetheykeeptryingtoruinourlives.Butwedon’thurtanyone.Theydidn’tevengetmynameright.”

“Yournameisn’treallyDusa?”Graceasked.“IcalledmyselfMedusaforawhile,justtoseemscariertoGlobal-1.ItgotshortenedtoDusa.

ThenwhenIthoughtthebarcodetattoothreatwasover,Iwentbacktomyownname.”Graceclutchedthebarcodetattooonherwrist.Thelinesstilltingledandburnedslightly.“How

is it not over?” she asked. She knew that the events of her own life were somehow tied to thisquestion,eventhoughshecouldn’tsayhow.

Eric,Mfumbe,andKatieexchangedanxiousglances.“We’renotsure,butwethinktheymightbeuptosomethingagain,”Katieanswered.

Thisdidn’tsatisfyGraceatall.Butshehadmoreimportantquestionstoask.“What’shappenedtomyfamily?”Hervoicerosewithfear.“Whywerethepoliceafterme?”

“We’renotcertainofthat,either,”Katieanswered.“Buthowdidyouknowtogetme?”“TherearepeopleinGlobal-1whoaresympathetictoourcause,”Mfumbesaid.“Erichadtold

usaboutyou,sowhenyournamecameup,weknewwehadtoactdecisively.”Everyanswerwasonlyleadingtomorequestions.“Whowasit?”Graceasked.“Ontheinside.”Mfumbe shook his head. “We can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be safe. Not for you. Not for our

informants.”Asifhecouldsenseherfrustration,Ericsaidgently,“We’restilltryingtofiguremostofitout

ourselves.Theinformationwegotwas…vague.Weneedtoknowyourstory,too.Whydon’tyoutelluswhatyouknow?”

Thiswasadifferentkindoftrusthewasaskingfornow,becauseitwasclearthatitwouldhavetobe, for the timebeing,anunequal trust.Therewere things theycouldn’t tellher.Butat thesametime,theyneededtoknoweverything.

“Please,”Ericsaid.“We’reonyourside.”Gracedecidedtotrusthim.

“Thishastodowithitbeingyourbirthday,”KatiesaidonceGracehadfinishedherstoryaboutDr.Harrimanandaboutthepolicecomingtoherhouse.WhenGracehadsaidDr.Harriman’sname,shehadhoped therewouldbe a flashof recognition, a confirmation that hewas theonewho’d tippedthemoff.Buttheyhadn’tbetrayedathing.

“Mybirthday?”Graceechoed.“Whyshouldthatmatter?”“You’dbettercomewithus,”Ericsuggested.“Therearesomepeopleyoushouldmeet.”“Eric,I’mreallyscared.What’sthisabout?”Graceasked.“There’snoreasontobescared,”Ericassuredher.“Forwhatit’sworth,Iwon’tleaveyourside.

Unless,ofcourse,youaskmeto.”Katiedisappearedintothebackofthetractortrailerandcamebackwheelingamotorcyclewith

twohelmetsstrappedtoit.“Ihavetogetthisrigoutofhere,”sheexplained.“It’snotexactlyeasytohidethisthing.IncaseIgetstopped,Idon’twantthemtofindyou.Eric,takehertothegarage.”

“Sure,” Eric agreed as Katie and Mfumbe put down the truck’s back ramp and wheeled themotorcycledown.“Everriddenononeofthese?”heaskedGrace.

Sheshookherhead.Shewasnervousbutexcitedtotryit.Withthewayherdaywasgoing,whatharmwasamotorcycleridegoingtodo?

Erichandedheroneof thehelmets. “Climbonbehindmeandhangon tight tomywaist,”headvised.

“Seeyabackattheranch,”KatiesaidassheandMfumbereturnedtothetruck’scab.“Theranch?”Graceasked.“Forreal?”“She’skidding,”Ericexplained.“You’llsee.”The truck pulled away.Grace andEric followed andwere soon zooming down the roadway.

GraceclenchedhereyesshutandherarmsachedfromholdingEricsotightly.Althoughshe’dalwayswanted to rideamotorcycle, shenever thoughtshe’d reallyget theopportunity.Herparentswouldneverhaveallowedit.Theexperiencewasthrillingandterrifyingallatonce.

Afterthreeblocks,shedaredtoopenhereyesandobservethebuildingsgoingbyasEriczippedaround corners, eventually turning into an alley between two skyscrapers.At the end of it, awidegaragedoorstoodopen.Theypulledinside.

Electronic doors closed behind them and the floor they were on began to descend. Gracerealizedtheywereinsidealargeelevatorcarthatwastransportingthemseverallevelsunderground.Finallythecarelevatorclankedtoajarringstop.

Thewallopposite theone they’dentered throughopened, revealingan immenseundergroundparkinggarage.Ericrevvedtheengineanddroveslowlyintothecavernousspace,whichwasfilledwithcars,vans,andtrucks,includingseveraltractortrailers.

“Wherearewe?”GraceaskedassoonassheandErichadpulledofftheirhelmets.TheelevatorlefttheirfloorandthenreturnedwithKatieandMfumbeinthetruck.

“This is your all-purpose hideout,” Eric said with a grin. “Katie calls it the ranch. Decodetrackerscan’tfindusunderherebecausewe’retoodeepunderground.”

“Ifameteorwere tohitEarth,doyou thinkwewouldbesafedownhere?”Gracequestioned,lookingaroundattheimmense,dankspacewithitsgraywallsandexposedpipes.Everysooftenthenews report about the meteor would pop, unbidden and random, into her head. She wasn’t reallyworriedaboutit;shesimplycouldn’tgetitcompletelyoffhermind.

“What?”Ericasked.Grace smiled wryly. “Sorry. It’s strange, but in the middle of all this craziness, I can’t stop

thinkingaboutthemeteorthat’ssupposedtobeheadingourway.”“It’ssupposedtopassus,isn’tit?”Ericanswered.“That’swhatthey’resaying,”Graceagreed.Ericchuckledwithadarkamusement.“Ithinkwehaveenoughotherthingstoworryaboutright

now.”“Absolutely,butarewedeepenoughundergroundtobesafe?”“We’redeepenoughtoblockasatellitesignal.That’sallIknow,”Ericsaid.“Don’tworryabout

themeteor.Itseemslikethere’soneflyingbyeveryfewyears.”Ayoungwomanapproached them,walking fromacross thegarage.Grace immediatelyknew

whoshewas—howcouldshenot?ItmayhavebeenillegaltohavetheposterofKaylaReedopenlydisplayed, because PresidentWaters had declared her an enemy of the state. Still, her image waseverywhere,andGracewouldrecognizetheeighteen-year-old’slean,high-bonedfaceanywhere.

KaylaandMfumbefacedeachotherandheldhands,clearlyacouple.KaylalayherforeheadonMfumbe’schestandshuthereyes,asdidhe.Theystoodthatwayforseveralbeatswithoutmoving.

“What’sthatabout?”GraceaskedEric.“They’re telepaths,” Eric explained. “The early bar code resisters learned to speakwith their

minds.Manyofthemstillcommunicatethatway.”“Canyoudothat?”Gracewasafraidtheanswerwouldbeyes.“No.Ittakestoomuchtraining.I’dratherbeclimbing.”Gracecoveredhertattooedwristwithherotherhand,suddenlyashamedeventhoughthetattoo

wassupposedtobesafenow.Itsuddenlyfeltallwrongtobebarcodedhereinthepresenceoftheseresisters.

Liftingherhead,KaylacaughtGrace’smovementandsmiledwarmly.“It’sallright,”shesaid,brushing back her chin-length light brown hair as she broke away fromMfumbe and approached.“Youdidn’tknow,andwedidn’tgettoyouintime.”

“Ididn’tknowwhat?”Graceasked.“Youdidn’tknownottogetthetattoo,”Kaylareplied.GracewaitedforErictotellKaylathathehad,infact,warnedher.Buthekeptquiet,keptthis

secretforher.Katie andMfumbewalked toward them.Glancing at her companions,Grace saw that they all

worebarcodetattoosontheirwrists.“Idon’tunderstand,”shesaid.“Oh,this?”Kaylatookaplasticbottleofclearmineraloilandaclothfromthelargesatchelshe

had slung across her chest. She held out herwrist and poured oil from the bottle onto her tattoo,rubbingitwithacloth.Herwristwasinstantlysmearedblack.

“Hey,thosethingsdon’tgrowontrees,youknow!”Katieobjected.Kaylaspokeasshecontinuedrubbingawayhertattoo.“Ineedanewpress-on.Thisfakeisshot,”

sheexplainedcalmly.“There’snomoremoneyinthebankaccountattachedtoit,andwhenItriedtouseittoday,thescannercameupreadingDECEASED.”

“Areyoukidding?”Mfumbeasked.Distressed,heinspectedhisowntattoonervously.

“Nojoke.”“Thatisseriouslybangedout,”Ericmurmured.This is beyond banged out,Grace thought.Yesterday— thismorning— shewasworking at

GlobalHelixheadquarters.Andnowshewas inanundergroundparkinggaragewith the leadersofDecode.Because of years and years ofGlobal-1messaging, the constant alerts and info blasts thecorporation sent to her cell phone, she knew what she was supposed to do: Play along, getinformation,thenturnthemin.

Couldshedothat?Gracefeltasthougheverycircuitinherbrainwassuddenlycross-wired.Sheliked thesepeople.Theyspoke toheras thoughshewereoneof them.AndEricwasoneof them,afterall.She’dadmiredhimforsolong.Hewasaheroinherschool—nottomentionthisattractionthatwasbetweenthemlately.Howcouldsheturnhimin?

Theanswerwasthatshecouldn’t.Maybesheshouldjusttrytogetawayandnotmentionthem.Shecouldsayshewasblindfolded

orknockedout.Butfirstshehadtofindoutwhatwasgoingon.Katie had crossed the wide aisle and climbed into the cab of a tractor trailer. Sitting in the

driver ’sseatwiththedooropen,shetookametalboxfromthepassengersideandopenedit.“Thisone should be good for a while,” she said, handing Kayla a delicate piece of plastic, resemblingcellophanetape,withabarcodeimprintedonit.

Kaylatookafaceclothfromherpackandwetitatanearbywaterfountain.Pressingtheflexibleplastic toher innerwrist, sheput thedampclothover it.Whenshe lifted thecloth,anewbarcodetattoowasthereonherwrist.

GracelookedtoEricwithaquestioningexpression.“Isyourbarcodetattooafakealso?”sheasked.

Ericnodded.“Weallhavefakes.”“Whydidn’tyoutellmethistheothernightwhenweweretalkingaboutit?”Sheremembered

howtentativehe’dseemed,asthoughhewantedtorevealsomethingbuthaddecidedagainstit.“Grace,Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Iwasn’tsureIwantedtoinvolveyouinallthis.”“Well,I’minvolvednow,”Gracesaid.“Iknow. I’msorry.”Eric’sapologywassosincere it seemed tohurthim.“Therearea lotof

thingsIdidn’trealizethenthatIknownow.”“Likewhat?”Gracedemanded.“We’lltellyoueverythingweknowinaminute,”Katiecutin.ThensheturnedtoKaylaandsaid,

“We’dbettertellJackaboutyourbumfake.Thatshouldn’thavehappened.”“Ishehere?”Kaylaasked.“He’sinthebackwithAllyson,”Mfumbesaid.“They’vebeenherealldaymakingchangeson

theswing-lo.”“Let’sgotalktohimaboutthis,”Katiesuggested.“We’llberightback,”sheadded,turningto

EricandGrace.“Theswing-lo?”GraceaskedEricastheotherswalkedtowardthefarendofthegarage.“Thisgarageiswheretheybuildthem,”heanswered.“Butwhatisit?”“It’s thiscool flyingsaucer that thisguy fromIreland, JackKelly, invented.Somemysterious

billionaireisfundingthething,soJackandhisbusinesspartner,AllysonMinor,areworkingtogetthemintoproduction.”

“Whydotheothershavetotalktothemaboutthefaketattoos?”“Jack is a genius computer hacker and heworkswithDecode,” Eric explained. “I heard he’s

beenwriting advanced computer code from the time hewas eleven— and he never evenwent to

college. He’s the one who hacks into bank and government files and gets out the information onpeoplewhohavepassedaway.Alotoftimesthedeadpeoplehaveleftbankaccountswithunclaimedfundsinthem.Jackisabletoconvertthisinfointobarcodeformanddoctoritsothebirthdatesseemcurrent.”

“Soyourbarcodetattoohasthenameofadeadpersoninit?”Graceasked.“Yeah,” Eric replied. “It’s not foolproof, but as long as nobody is paying close attention, it

enablesustobuystuffandnotgetarrestedforwalkingaroundwithoutabarcode.”ErictookGrace’shand.Allatonce,shefeltelectrifiedbyhistouchandsoothedbythestrength

and firmness of his grip. “Come on,” he said gently. “I’ll show you the swing-lo. It’s final level.You’lllikeit.”

Heledherinthedirectionthattheothershadgone.Clustersofpeopleweregatheredindifferentsections of the garage. They spoke in low tones and their discussions appeared serious. Someindividualssleptinsleepingbagsinsidetheparkedcars,otherscurleduponthehoods.Theylookedup sleepily as Eric andGrace passed. A few nodded to Eric, acknowledging that they’d seen himbefore.

“Whoarethesepeople?”Graceaskedquietly.“SomeDecode,mostlyDrakians.”“WhydotheycallthemselvesDrakians?”Graceasked.“They admire Gene Drake, the tattooer who got shot for refusing to do more tattoos. The

Global-1 cops claimed hewas threatening people lined up for the tattoo, but hewasn’t. He and afriend had hacked their way into the Global-1 database and knew that the companywas encodinggeneticsandinjectingnanobots.Theykilledhimsohecouldnevertell.Theyclaimedhisfriendkilledhimself,butIdoubtit.Theymurderedhim.”

Again,Gracefelttornbetweenwhatshewasbeingtoldnowandwhatshe’dbeentoldfortherestofherlife.IntheGlobal-1versionofevents,theDrakianswerethemurderers,stoppingatnothingtooverthroworder.Andlookingaround,therewassomethingalittledisconcertingabouttheirpresence—thesewerenotpeoplewithjobs,notpeoplewithfamilieswholivedinhousesandpaidmortgages.Theywere so outside themargins, shewondered how they could judgewhatwas in themargins.Especiallyiftheybackedtheirjudgmentwithviolence.

Butshecouldn’tsayanyofthistoEric,couldshe?Nothere.Sheknewshewassupposedtofeelsafe,butshedidn’t.Shecouldn’t.Itwasalltoonew.

Itwas unnerving to think that these people knewabout her.Kayla had saidGrace’s namehadcomeup.Why?How?Therewassomuchmoresheneededtofindout.Themostimportantquestion,ofcourse,washerfamily’swhereabouts.They’dleftsofastthattheycouldn’tevenwaitforher!Didthey think she’d be better off on her own? Grace knew her parents would never simply take offwithoutseriousthoughttoherwelfare.Theyjustweren’tlikethat.

“Hey,Eric, is thather?” askedaguywhohadbeen readinganewspaper, sprawledacross thehoodofhiscar.

Ericgavetheguyaquickwave.“Missionaccomplished,”hereplied.“Finallevel!”theguycheered.Otherslookedupandtherewasawaveofapplauseandcheering.“Welcometoourhomesweethome,Grace!”ayoungwomancalled.Grace nodded and smiled uncomfortably. “Do they all knowmy name?”Gracewhispered to

Eric.“Prettymuch,”Ericconfirmed.“Drakianspridethemselvesonconstantlyknowingthings.They

haveareallygreatundergroundspynetwork.Someofthemmaylooklikebums,butalotofthemcomefromwealthy families,and theirparentsaresuperconnected.Theyget top level informationjustbybeingaroundtheirhomesonceinawhile.”

“Andwhatabouttheothers?”Graceasked.Ericsmiled,asthoughherquestionamusedhim.“They’rebums.”“No.Really?”“Yeah,really.Butstreetpeoplehearthings,too,importantthings.”“Andnobodyminds that they’re here?”was themostGrace could think to ask. “Do they live

here?”“Hardtosay.Theycomeandtheygo.Noonequestionsit.Thesameguywhofundstheswing-lo

ownsthisgarage.He’scompletelymysterious.TheguysJackandAllysonspeaktoarejustagentsforthe guy with the money. He thinks Jack and Allyson are just using the space for their swing-lobusiness,butsincethey’realsoDecodeoperatives,JackandAllysonletusoperateoutofhere.”

TheycametoaspotwhereKatie,Kayla,andMfumbestoodtalkingtoayoungmanandwoman—Grace assumed they were Jack and Allyson. Behind them sat something large andmechanicalcoveredwithabrightbluetarp.Graceguesseditmustbetheswing-lo,thoughwhataswing-lowas,shestillhadnorealidea.

Jackappearedtobeinhisearlytwenties,ofmediumheight,withdeepblueeyes.Gracecouldn’thelpbutbestruckbyhismovie-stargoodlooks.

Allyson’smoststrikingfeaturewasherhaloofshoulder-lengthblondcurls.Althoughshewasheavierthanwasfashionable,shehadanappealing,openface.

“Someone has out-hacked us,” Jack said raking his hand through his shaggy-cut blond hair.“That’sgottobetheonlyanswer.”

“Whymyfakeandnooneelse’s?”Kaylaquestioned.“Becauseyou’rethemostwell-knownbarcoderesister.Yourstoryhasbeenalloverthepapers.

Naturally theywould look for your fake first,” Jackdeduced. “It’s got to beGlobal-1 that’s doingthis.”

“Theyprobablyhaven’tgottenaccesstoeveryfake,”Allysonsuggestedhopefully.SheturnedtoKayla.“HavetheKclonescomplainedofbadfakes?”

“Ihaven’theardfromthemlately,”Kaylareplied.Onceagain,Gracecouldhardlybelievethiswashappening.Itamazedherthatsheshouldfind

herselfamongthesepeopleshehadreadabout.Sixmonths earlierGrace had perused amagazine article onKayla and her five clones,who

wereliketwins,butnotexactly,becauseeachofthemwasincreasinglytransgenic.Theirgeneshadbeensplicedwiththoseofsparrows.KaylawascalledK-1,withtheleastamountofbirdgene.Theone they called Karen was K-6. Heavily autistic and disheveled looking, she had never left theGlobalHelixcomplexuntilKaylaandtheothersliberatedher;Karenwastheonewhohadmemorizedthealgorithmsthatshutdownthenanobotscontrolledbythebarcodetattoo.

JacknoticedGraceandEricforthefirsttimeandsmiled.“Hey,Eric,who’syourfriend?”“It’sher,Jack,”KatiesaidbeforeEriccouldintroduceGrace.“She’stheonewe’vebeentelling

youabout,theoneourinformanttoldustopickup.She’sinbigtrouble.”Bigtrouble?Gracewishedsomeonewouldgiveherananswertowhatwashappening.Kaylanodded,turningtowardGrace.“Itsoundslikethey’reontoyou,Grace.”Whatweretheytalkingabout?“Me?Who’sontome?”“Global-1,ofcourse,”Mfumbetoldher.“They’vebeenwaitingforyoutoturnseventeenfora

longtime.Somethingbigisgoingtogodownnow.”“Why?”Gracesaid.Butitwasasifshehadn’tsaidanything.“Doyoureallythinkthisisit?”Kaylaaskedhim.Mfumbenoddedhisheademphaticallyandspreadhisarmswideinagesturethatsaiditshould

beobvious.“It’sallintheprophecy.”KatieshotMfumbeahardlookofdisapproval.Gracerealizedhehadsaidsomethinginfrontof

herthatKatiehadn’twantedrevealed.Prophecy?“Whycan’t sheknow?”MfumbechallengedKatie.“She’sasdeeply involved in thisasanyof

us.”“Nottheprophecy.Notyet,”Katiespokeinalowtensetonethatwasalmostagrowl.Mfumbeturnedhisbacktoherandbeganwalkingaway.“We’renevergoingtoseeeyetoeyeon

this,Katie.It’sjustthatsimple.”Gracelongedtoaskwhatthiswasabout,buttheatmospherewassotenseshecouldn’tfindthe

nerve.Notanymore.Truetohisword,Ericwasstillatherside.Shedidn’tknowhowtointerprethissilence.Didhe

knowwhattheyweretalkingabout?Ifso,washegoingtotellherlater?“Mfumbehasagoodpoint,”KaylasaidtoKatie.“Don’tdefendhimjustbecausethetwoofyouaretogether,”Katiesnapped.Kayladrewback,offendedbythecomment.“That’snottrueandyouknowit!Howcanshehelp

uswithTheBarCodeProphecyifwedon’ttellheraboutit?“Notyet!”Katieinsisted.“Notyet.”“Allright.”KaylaturnedtoGrace.“We’regoingtotellyouabouttheprophecy.Ipromise.But

thereareequallyimportantthingsyouneedtoknowfirst.”“Like what?” Grace asked. At this point she felt so far over her head that more complex

questionsseemedbesidethepoint.“Global-1 has found out you’re adopted. They’re after your biological father and that’swhy

they’relookingforyou.”

Grace felt as though shewere in a dreamas she listened toKayla speak.Abaddream. “Adopted?Whatareyoutalkingabout?”

“Youdidn’tknow?”Kaylaasked.“Idon’tbelieveyou,”Gracemurmured.ShecouldfeelEricgettingcloserbehindher,backing

herwithhispresence,theropenowinvisiblebetweenthem.Heputhishandgentlybutfirmlyonherarm,andshewasgratefulforthesupport.Shehadn’tseenthiscomingandshefeltalmostfaintfromtheimpact.

“Iknowthisismessingwithyourhead,”KaylasaidtoGrace.“YoumustbefeelingthewayIdidwhenIdiscoveredIwasoneofsixclonesandthatIsharegeneswithanactualbird.”

Graceacknowledgedthecomparisonwithanod,butshedidn’treallyfeelthiswasthesame.AndjustbecauseKaylahadbeenthroughsomethingsimilardidn’tmeanthiswasn’tweird.No,notweird.Earth-shattering.

“Soyou’resayingthatmyfamilyisn’tmyfamily?”Graceaskedinanunsteadyvoice.“Of course they’re your family,” Allyson spoke kindly. “But you don’t share their genetics.

That’sall.”“Lotsofpeopleareadopted,”Ericaddedsoftly.“Yes,but theygrowupknowing it.Theydon’t learn it abruptly fromstrangers at seventeen,”

Graceobjected,fightingthetearsthatwerewellingup.Andthenasuddenmemoryhither,changingeverything.“Waitaminute!Whyareyoulyingtome?”

“We’renot,”Kaylainsisted.“Youwereadoptedbyyourparentsatbirth.”“MyparentshaveaDVDofmybirth.I’veseenit!”“Ican’texplainthat,Grace,”Kaylaadmitted.“AllweknowiswhatDecodeheadquartershastoldus,”Mfumbeadded.“I’msorrytohavedumpedthatonyousoclumsily,”Kaylaapologized.Mfumbereturnedtothe

groupandstoodbesideKayla,restinghishandonhershoulder.“Itdidn’toccurtomethatyoumightnotknowaboutyouradoption,”sheadded.“I’msorry.”

Gracedidn’tbelieveit.Theyhadtobemistaken.“So,basically,youwantmetotakeiton faiththatI’madopted,justbecauseDecodeheadquarters—whereverandwhoeverthatis—tellsyouso?CanyouunderstandthatImightneedalittlemoreproofthanthat?”

“Wehaveoursourcesandspiesandcomputerhackers just likeGlobal-1does.Wehave to, inordertofightthem,”Jacksaid.“Themomentyougotthebarcodetattoo,yourDNAfloodedintotheGlobal-1 data banks. Apparently they were just waiting for it. You’re the child of someone veryimportant to them. They’ve been watching you and so have we, because we’re hacked into theirnewsfeedandwecanfollowwhateverthey’refollowing.”

“I get it.Global-1 is evil because of all their surveillance.And then,wait, yougo anddo thesameexact thing?”Gracewasangrynow,and it felt liberating.“Soyousent someone to stalkme.Great.Whoeveritwasdidagreatjob.Ihadnoidea.”

“Itwasme,Grace,”Ericsaid.Hiswordshither,batteredher.Foramoment,shedidn’thaveenoughairinherlungstospeak.“You?”shestammereddrylywhenhervoicereturned.She’dneverfeltso foolish.“Wow,”she

saidwithanoteofsarcasm.“AndallthistimeIthoughtwewerefriends.”Andhadhopedtheyweremorethanfriends.

“Wearefriends,”Ericinsisted,butGracefelttoobetrayedtobelievehim.“Whateveryousay,”Gracemuttereddismissively,turningherbackonhim.“Doesanyoneknow

whomybiologicalparentsare?Justoutofcuriosity.”“ThefilesaysyouwerebornatGlobalHelix,”Katierevealed.Grace’seyesdartedtoKayla.“AmIaclone,too?”“Probablynot,”Kaylareplied.“Myfilerevealedmyclonestatus.”“Therewasnoinformationlikethatinyourfile,”Mfumbesaid.“Thenwhydotheyhaveafileonme?”Graceneededtoknow.“There’safileoneverybody,”Jacksaid.“Thethingthatmadeyourfileimportantwasthatitwas

deeplyencrypted.OnlythemosttopsecretofalltheGlobal-1filesgetthat.”“Soyouhavenoideawhy?”Gracepressed.Whatelseareyounottellingme?“Butwedoknowthatsomeonehasabductedyourfamily—andonthesamedayyougotthebar

codetattoo,”Katiesaidwithlevelcalm.Grace realized that thenewsofbeingadoptedhadalmostno impactonher,compared to this.

Herfamilywastheonlyfamilyshe’deverknown.Itwasn’taperfectfamily.Butwhohadthat?Noonesheknew.

Whywouldn’t theyhave toldhershewasadopted?Itwaspuzzling.But if thatwasaquestion,therewereotherthingsthatweren’tatallquestionable.Herfamilylovedher—evenpeskyKimandJames—shewascertainofthatmuch.Andatthemomentitwaswhatmattered.Shelovedherfamily,theylovedher—andsomethinghadhappenedtothem.

Butthecars.Thecarsweregone.Ifthey’dbeenabducted,thenwhywerethecarsgone?“Doyouknowwho’sresponsibleforwhatever ’shappenedtothem?”Graceasked.“It’sprobablyGlobal-1,”Mfumbesaid.“Eitherthey’veabductedthemoryou’refamilyisonthe

runfromthem.”Soitwasstillapossibilitythattheywereontherun.Ultimately,itseemedthatGrace’sinstinctswereasinformedasDecode’soperation.“Ishouldgobackandtellthepoliceallthis,”Gracesuggested,moretogaugetheirreactionthan

anythingelse.“Global-1owns the police,” Kayla reminded her. “If Global-1 is behind this, the police will

neversolveyourcase.AndIwouldn’tgointoanyfosterhometheyassignforyou,either.”A threat. It was almost too easy — everything that they said Global-1 would do became

somethingthatwouldhappentoherifshedidn’tcooperatewithDecode.Asifherealizedthis,Ericcautioned,“Kayla.We’renotgoingtoletthathappentoGrace.”Gracecouldn’tstopherself.“AsfarasI’mconcerned,”shetoldEric,“youhavenothingatallto

dowithwhathappens tome.Get it?”Beforehecouldanswer, she turnedback toKaylaandasked,“Why,whatwouldtheydotome?”Shefiguredshemightaswellhaveasfullapictureaspossible.

“Youmightbe theonlyoneofyourfamily theydidn’tget,”Katieremindedher.“Atanyrate,theyknowyou’renotwiththerestofyourfamily.Theyareprobablylookingforyou,too.”

“Ironic,isn’tit,thatyouwererightthereintheGlobalHelixbuildingandtheydidn’tfindyou?”Jackcommented.

“Iwenthomeearly.TheonlyoneItoldwasTerri,myreplacement,”Gracerecalled.“Didanyoneelseseeyouthere?”Katieasked.“Lotsofpeopleworkthere,”Gracereplied.“Whodidyoutalkto?”Kaylaasked.“Thetattoonurse,andTerri,”Gracerecalled.“AndDr.Harriman,”Mfumbesaid.“Yes—Ialreadytoldyouabouthim.”GraceturnedtoKayla,whohadn’tbeenthereforherfirst

debriefing. “He’s a very strangeman. For some reason he was upset that I’d gotten the bar codetattoo.”

Gracecouldtellfromthestunnedexpressionsofeveryonearoundherthatshe’dsaidsomethingsignificant.Butwhatwasit?

“You spoke to Jonathan Harriman, the inventor of the bar code tattoo?” Allyson reiterated.“Actuallyspoketohim?Doesheknowyou?”

“He always remembers my name,” Grace said. “But it’s not like we’ve ever had a realconversation.Notuntiltoday.”

“Canyougetintotalktohimtonight?”Kaylaasked.“I have clearance,”Grace confirmed, unsure ofwhere thiswas going. “Although theymight

havecancelledit.”“Iwonderifhe’sstillthere,”Allysonsaid.“It’salreadysix.”“IcouldcallTerri,”Gracesuggested.“Thefrontdeskismanneduntileightandthenitgoesto

voicemail.Itrusthertotellmewhat’sgoingon.”“Here,”Jacksaid,pullingaphoneoutofhispocket.“Thisone’ssecure.”Shepunched in thenumber for theGlobalHelix frontdeskandwaitedas thephone rangone,

two,three,four,fivetimes.“That’sodd,”Gracetoldtheothers.“Weneverlet thephoneringmorethanthreetimes.”

Gracetriedthecallagain,andthistimeletitsoundseventimes,stillwithnosuccess.“Strange,”sheremarked,givingup.

“Someoneshouldgetoutthereandseewhat’sgoingon,”Katiesuggested.ButGracewasn’tthrough.Therewerestillthingsshewantedtoknow.“Whatabouttheprophecy?”Graceasked.“Canyoutellmeaboutthatnow?”“Afterwetalk toJonathanHarriman,”Katiereplied.“Hemighthaveinformationforusabout

theprophecy,informationaboutyourfamily.Ifanyoneknows,it’shim.”“Hey,Eric,”Jacksaid,turningtowardthecoveredvehiclebehindhimandgrippingtheedgeof

thetarpcoveringit.“Thismightbeagreatchancetotakethenewswing-loforatestrun.”

“This is it…my baby… the swing-lo,” Jack said as Eric andGrace climbed into the craft. “Ofcourse,AllysonhasmadealotofimprovementssinceIshowedherthefirstprototypeawhileago.Whatapieceofjunkthatwas,comparedtothisone.”

“Andthisoneisstillnottheendproduct,wehope,”Allysonadded,joiningthem.“Allthesedialsandswitcheshavetogo.Imean,it’ssoold-fashioned.”

“Hey,Iwasworkingwithscrapmetaloutinthedesert,”Jackdefendedhisdesign.“Iwasusingcarparts.Givemeabreak.”

Allyson smiled and pushed him playfully. “Just saying, we can get something a little slickergoinghere.”

“We’re going to have to hit ourmysterious business backer formoremoneybefore that canhappen,”Jackreplied.

Gracekept her gazeon themandwouldn’t look atEric,who sat besideher in the swing-lo’sdriver ’sseat.Heremotionsabouthimwerewaveringbetweendisappointment,anger,andfeelingsofbetrayal;she’dbeensosurehewaspayingattentiontohersolelybecausehereturnedherfeelings.Theideathatshewasonlyhisassignment—thatotherwisehewouldn’tevenhavenoticedher—washumiliating.

Whenshelookedathim,shefeltembarrassedandfurious.Shecouldn’tbeartomeethiseyes.Butshe’dbeentold toride in theswing-lowithhimandmeet theothersatGlobalHelix.Shedidn’tfeelshewasinapositiontosayno.Ifthisiswhatitwouldtaketogetherfamilyandherlifeback,shecouldn’tsayno.

Gracealsoheldmixedemotionsabouttravelingintheshinymetallicdiscinfrontofher.Ithadnomorethanatwelve-footdiameter.Atitscenterwasaseatwellwheretwopeoplecouldsitsidebyside.Infrontwasaveryhigh-techcomputercontrolpanel.

“Itworksonmagneticrepulsion,andit’sgoingtobethenextbigthing,”JacktoldGrace.“Erichereismytestpilot.”

Jackgaveheraquickhistoryoftheswing-lo.Althoughmagneticrepulsionhadbeenaroundforawhile—highspeedtrainsinJapanranonit,asdidtheBullit-BusesandBullit-TrainsinAmericaandEurope—hehaddonesomethingnooneelsehadyetmanagedtodo.Hehadamplifiedtheforcesothathisswing-locouldactuallyfly.

“Thisideaofpersonalflyingvehiclesisn’tnew,”Allysonadded.“GuyslikethephysicistNikolaTeslawereworkingonitbackintheearlynineteenhundreds.HeevenhadfundingfromJohnJacobAstorandeverything.Theypredicteditwashowpeoplewouldcommute,buttheynevermadeitwork.Now,overahundredyearslater,wethinkwe’vegotit.”

“It’sjustatinybitunreliable,”Jackadmittedwithaquickgrimace.“Butwe’realmostthere.”

“Inwhatwayunreliable?”Graceaskednervously.“You’llbesafe,”Allysonassuredher.“We’rejustplayingaroundwiththealtitude.”“Putthisonandmakesureyou’rebeltedin,”Ericsaidwhentheysatsidebysideinthevehicle.

Hehandedherthesamehelmetshe’dwornonthemotorcycle.Kayla, Mfumbe, and Katie headed back to their own motorcycles, but Allyson and Jack

remained,watchingasEricswitchedonaseriesofbuttonsandtoggles.“Thisisprototypefive,”ErictoldGrace,speaking ina friendly tone,as thoughnothingwasstrainedbetween them.“Youshouldhaveseenthefirstone;itlookedlikeahunkofjunkbecauseJackhadonlyscrapmetaltoworkwith.Nowwiththefunding,hecanbuysomedecentlightweightmaterials.”

“Ishouldbeoutlookingformyfamily,notfoolingaroundwithsomespaceship,”Gracefretted.Sheknewtherewassupposedtobeanelementoffuninallthis.Butwhatrightdidshehavetobeonanadventurelikethiswhentheyweremissing?

“Wearesearchingforthem,”Ericsaid.“We’regoingtoseewhatJonathanHarrimancantellus.Hesaidhewouldcontactyou,right?Well,there’snowayforhimtodothatnow.Sowehavetodoitforhim.You’llgetaroundalotfasterwithusthanonyourown.AndifyoureliedontheGlobal-1cops…believeme,you’dgetnowhere.”

Ericpushedanotherbuttonandtheswing-loelevatedabruptlytoaboutfivefeetofftheground.Jack andAllyson came alongside. “We’vemade some big innovations, Eric.You can put the roofbubbleupnowand shegoes a lothigher.There’s agauge to the right thatwill tell your elevationabovesealevel.Ifyougetthechance,seehowhighshe’llgo.”

“Howhighistoohigh?”Ericaskedashestrappedonhishelmet.“Wedon’tknow,”Allysonadmitted.“Butthecraftwillstarttoshakewhenyou’retoohigh.”“Oh,swell,”Ericquippedsarcastically.“Just bring it back down and the shimmyingwill stop,” Jack assured him. “But don’t keep it

shakingtoolong.”“Why?Whatwillhappen?”Ericasked.“Justdon’tdoitandeverythingwillbefine,”Jackinsisted.With a nod to Jack and Allyson, Eric pushed the throttle forward and the swing-lo whirred

forward,travelingtowardthewidegaragedoorfromwhichtheyhadentered.Gracegrippedherseatanxiously.She found it strange tobe traveling so close to theground, andyet not be touching theearth.

Thegaragedoorhadbeenopened,andnowthecraftentered.Immediatelythedoorsshutandtheelevatorcarbegantravelingupward.Whenitbumpedtoastop,thedoorontheoppositesideopened.Ericturnedonheadlightsthatilluminatedtheareaaroundthem.Insteadofusingthenarrowalleythemotorcyclehadcomedownonthetripin,Ericsteeredtotheleftandcameoutintoagatedchildren’splayground.

“Goingup,”Ericwarnedas theswing-lo liftedabove the fenceandsailedover it.“Jack’sbiginvention isamechanism thatamplifies themagnetic repulsioncoming from theearthmany timesover,”heexplained.“It’satotallycleanfuel,andthethingcanreallyfly.”

Gracenoddedasshepeeredovertheside.Aslongastheyweretalkingaboutthemachine,shecouldbearthesoundofhisvoice.Butthatwasaboutit.Theywereflyingatabouttenfeetintheair,stillneedingtostaytotheroadwaysratherthanflyingabovebuildings.“We’reheadingdownagain,”Eric reported. “If I stay close to the road, people just think this a funky new car, some kind ofexperimentalhybrid.Theydon’tevennoticethatthethingisn’tactuallyontheground,especiallynowthatit’sdark.”

They traveled toward GlobalHelix without talking any further. At one point Grace spiedMfumbe,Kayla,andKatie ridingaheadof them.Eric flewupandbuzzed themfromabovebefore

speedingpast.Aftertwentyminutes,theyturnedthecornertowardGlobalHelix.GracelookedatEricdirectly

forthefirsttimesincelearningthetruthabouttheirrelationship.“What?”heasked.“Ididn’tsayanything,”shepointedout.“Thatscowlonyourfacedid,though,”Ericcountered.“What’swrong?Ismydrivingmaking

yousick?”“No,”Gracereplied.“Youliedtome.Whydidn’tyoutellmewhatwasgoingon?”“I wanted to, Grace, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t have been doing my job if I had. You can

understandthat,can’tyou?”“Yes.Youwerejustdoingyourjob.HowcouldInotunderstandthat?”Gracereplied.“Still…I

thoughtwewerefriends.”“Wearefriends,”Ericinsistedasheslowedtheswing-loinfrontoftheGlobal-1headquarters.

“I’mgoingover thisgatesoIcanpark theswing-lo inside, thenyourcodewillgetus in thefrontdoor.”

“Ifitworks,”Gracesaid.“Yeah.Ifitworks.”Oncemore the swing-lo rose and easily sailed over thewall before descending on the lawn

outside the headquarters. Low amber lights glowed from the lobby. Therewas no sign of activityinside.Theyleftthecraftstashedbehindsomeforsythiabushesandheadedforthefrontentrance.

Graceranhernewbarcodetattooacrossthefrontdoorscanner.ACCESSDENIED.“Maybeit’stoosoon.I’lltrytheeyescan.”ACCESSDENIED.“You’vebeenwipedclean.They’renotadmittingyouanymore.Canyouthinkofanotherway

in?”“There’sadoorontheroofthatisn’tscannerprotected,butit’susuallylocked.”Eric’seyesdartedtotheswing-loandbacktoGrace.“Wanttotryit?”“Canitgothathigh?”“We’llfindout.”Gracegazedup at thehuge spiral sculptureon the roof.Lookingupwasvastlypreferable to

lookingdown.Shehadneverbeenfrightenedofheights,butastheaircraftrose,itbegantoshimmy,firstjustslightly.Butthehighertheywent,themoreviolenttheshakingbecame.

“Don’tworry, Jackhas landedon this roofbefore,”Eric said, thoughhis expressionwasnotconfident.“Andthatwaswiththefirstswing-lo.”

Grace kept her eyes fixed on the twisting sculpture and remembered what she’d learned inbiology:thedoublehelixrepresentedaspiralpolymerofnucleicacidsheldtogetherbynucleotidesthatbase-pairedtogether. Itwashowgenetic informationwasstoredandcopied.GeneticswaswhatGlobal-1wasallabout.Ithadstartedasacompanythatmadehybridfoodandgrewtoonethatmadeanimal clones for meat production. Now it was trying to make hybrid people. And it was doingeverythinginitspowertocontrolthepopulation,justastheyhadcorneredthemarketontheworld’sfood supply.We’re just a product to them, like cattle, Grace had seen Ambrose Young quoted assayinginarecentarticle—theimagehadstuckwithher,eventhoughshe’dthoughtatthetimeitwasoverblown.Nowsheconsidereditinadifferentlightastheswing-loroseeverhigher.

What’sGeneticsGottoDowithIt?

ArticlebyAllysonMinorReportingfromtheCaliforniaInstituteofTechnology

GMO:geneticallymodifiedorganism.Allyour fruitsandvegetablesaregeneticallymodified.Asfarbackastheearly2000sGlobal-1,actingunderthecompanynamesofitssubsidiaries,wasgranted patents on its hybridized foods. In the 2010s, it filed for and received patents for itsclonedsheep,cattle,andpigs.Thesewerethenusednotonlyasmeatforconsumptionbutalsoaslivingtissueforitsorgancloningprograms.Maybeyou’veseenthefamousphotooftheratwithahumaneargrowingfromitsspine.AndthenGlobal-1turneditsattentiontoyou.

That’sright:you.Andallyourhumanfriendsandfamily.Howwoulditbeifyoucouldfly?Orseeinthedark?Itmightbecool.Itmightsavelives.

TheproblemisthatGlobal-1thinksthatsinceitisgoingtosuchhugeexpensetodevelopthesetechnologiesthatcouldimproveyou—justastheybelievethey’veimprovedthetomatoandthepig—theyshouldalsohaveapatentonyou.

Putsimply,Global-1wantstoownyou.Anditpracticallydoes.Ithasalreadybrandedalmostallofuswhoareseventeenandoverwithitsbarcodetattoo.I

resistedforawhilebutgaveinsoIcouldentercollege.IwassuspiciousbutevenIdidn’tknowthatmygeneticinformationwasbeingstudiedandstoredwithinthelinesoftheBarCodeorthatnanobots introduced intomybloodstreamduring the tattooingprocesswereaddingamachinecomponentthatcouldbemanipulatedbyGlobal-1atwill.

The brave individuals who have been able to resist the bar code tattoo and who haveexposedtheseoutragestothepublicarenotconvincedthatthedangerhasbeenresolved.Despitecallsforhisresignation,LoudonWaters,theGlobal-1pawn,isstillourpresident.Thebarcodetattoocontinuestobethelawoftheland.

“We’rejustaproducttothem,likecattle,”AmbroseYounghastoldtheSenate.But whywould the government listen to resistors? If we are cattle toGlobal-1, then the

governmentisaherdofsheep.Decoderemainscommitted toguardingyour freedom.Support theminanywayyoucan.

WhenyoumeetaPostman—theDecodeorganizationthatworkstokeepyoucommunicatingoffthegrid—askhowyoucanhelp.

EricandGracespedlightlydownthedimlylit topflooroftheGlobalHelixoffices.Theroofdoorhadbeenlocked,butluckilyitwasanold-fashionedlock,andamongthefewitemsEriccarriedinabackpackwasalock-pickingkit.

Oncetheywereinside,theyheadeddownaflightofstairstoanexecutivesuiteofoffices.Itwasstrange forGrace to think that just thismorning, sheworkedhere.Shepointed at the lineof lightemanating fromunder thedoorofDr.Harriman’soffice.She’dneverbeen inside it, but sheknewwhereitwas.

“He’sstillhere,”shewhisperedtoEric.Oratleastshehopedso.Itcouldalsobeatrap.Therewasonlyonewaytofindout.“Dr.Harriman?”Graceinquiredassheopenedthedoor.Dr.Harrimanlookedupsharplyfromthelaptoponhisdesk.Hedidnotlookhappytoseeher.“Grace!Whatareyoudoinghere?”“Ineedto talk toyou.You’re the inventorof thebarcodetattoo.Doyouknowwhythere isa

priorityfileonme?”“Well,you’recertainlyadirectyoungwoman.”“Ihavetobe.Myfamilyismissing.I’mtryingtofindthemandIcan’taffordtowait.”It was as if Grace could see his scientific mind weighing the options. “Maybe I do know

somethingaboutit,”hehedged.“Whoisyourfriend?”Ericsteppedforward.“MynameisEricChaca.”“You’reNativeAmerican?”Dr.Harrimaninquired.Gracethoughtthiswasastrangethingtosay,butEricseemedtoknowwhyDr.Harrimanwas

asking.“MyfatherishalfHopi,halfIrish,”heanswered.“MymotherisfullCherokee.”“HaveyoucometotalktomeaboutTheBarCodeProphecy?”GraceturnedtowardEric—theprophecy,again—butEricwasn’tpayinganyattentiontoher.

InsteadheandDr.Harrimanwerelockedinameaningfulstare.“Ididn’tcomeforthat,”Ericsaid.“Ihadnoideayouknewanythingaboutit.”“Butyouknowaboutit,don’tyou?”Dr.Harrimansaid.Noddingslowly,EricapproachedDr.Harriman.“Firstthingsfirst,”hetoldtheolderman.“Why

isthereatoppriorityfileonGrace?”Dr. Harriman’s ice blue eyes darted thoughtfully between Grace and Eric. Grace’s heartbeat

quickenedwithanticipation.“ThereisaspecialtoppriorityfileonGraceMorrowbecausesheisthedaughteroftheinventor

ofthebarcodetattoo.”“Yourdaughter?”Gracespokesoftlyastheimpactofhiswordsstruckher.“Mydaughter,”Dr.Harrimanconfirmed.Now itwas she andDr.Harrimanwho studied each otherwith keen eyes, each searching for

physicalfeaturesthatmightconnectthem.TherewasnothingGracecouldsee.Wherehiseyeswerebrightblue,herswereadeepbrown,likeherhair.Butslowlysherealizedthattheshapeofhereyesandlineofhereyebrowswerethesame.Sheowedtheridgeofhercheekbonetohim,too.

“Thedarkergeneoftendominates,”Dr.Harrimanremarked,asifreadingherthoughts.“ButIseemuchofmyselfinyou.”

“Why didn’t youwant her to get the bar code tattoo?”Eric askedwhileGrace stayed almostfrozen,findingithardtoabsorbthisshockingnewpieceofinformation.

“I’d like to explain all this to you someday, but there’s something you should look at rightaway.”Dr.Harrimanbeckonedforthemtocomearoundhisdeskandlookathismonitorscreen.

Global-1policeswarmedthebottomfloorlobby.“What’sgoingon?”Ericasked,alarmed.“Theyarrivedjustminutesago.TheywantmebutI’msurethey’dbedelightedtotakeyoutwo,

as well,” Dr. Harriman explained calmly. “So far I’ve locked off the executive elevators and theemergencystairways,butI’msurethey’llfiguresomewayupeventually.”Helookedatthemsharplyasanewideaoccurredtohim.“Bytheway,howdidyoutwomanageit?”

Thedeafeningflapofhelicopterbladessuddenlyroaredaroundthem.Itsoundedlikemorethanone. “Dronehelicopters,”Dr.Harrimanobserved. “Ioncewanted tobeahelicopterpilot.Now theprofessiondoesn’tevenexist.It’salldrones.”

“Whydotheywantyou?”Graceasked.“YouworkforGlobal-1.Aren’tyouontheirside?”“ItseemsI’veturnedrenegadeonthem,”Dr.Harrimanexplained.“Nolongercooperative.”Thechopperbladesweregrowinglouder.“Weshouldgo,”Ericsaid.“Howareyouproposingweleave?”Dr.Harrimanasked.“We’re in a flying craft that takes only two,”Eric said. “I’m afraidwe have to leavewithout

you.”“Isawaphotoofitonline,”Dr.Harrimansaid.“Ireadthatitwasusedwhenthisbuildingwas

attackedjustsixmonthsago.Can’tIsqueezein?”“Come on, let’s go, Grace,” Eric urged, taking her hand and pulling her along. “Sorry, Dr.

Harriman,there’sonlyroomfortwo.”But you should take him, Grace thought. After all, Harriman was the prize. He was the one

Decodewouldwant.Gracewasnobody.Still,Erichadmadehischoice.Andhewasn’tgoingback.Together they ran back to the roof door. Themoment they pulled it open, gale force winds

assaultedthem,stirredupbythetwodronehelicoptersovertheirheads.Staggeringunderthewindofthewhirringblades,theyranundertheblindinglightsfromabove,

crouchingtowardtheswing-lo.AlineofredappearedinchesfromGrace’sfeetandshefolloweditslinetoitssource—thehelicopternearestthem.“Laserstun!”Ericshoutedoverthethunderousroar.

At the swing-lo, they dove inside. Eric activated the engine but didn’t turn on the lights.Immediatelythecraftbegantorise.Itwasfourfeetintheairwhenaman’shandgrabbedtheside.Dr.Harrimanwastryingtoclimbin.

Actingonanimpulsenottoleavehimstranded,GraceseizedDr.Harriman’sarmandbegantopull.Anotherlineofredpingedoffthesideoftheswing-lo,raisingsparks.

“He’stooheavyforustocarry!”Ericshouted.

“Wecan’tleavehimoutherelikethis!”Gracecountered,grippingDr.Harriman.Ittookallherstrengthtopullhimin,hislegsstilldanglingovertheedge.

Theswing-loweavedwildly.Graceclutchedthescientist,terrifiedthathemightfall.Redlaserlinescrossedthedarknight.Eric regained control of the craft and flew horizontally to the right, staying below the

helicopters. There was a moment’s respite in the laser attacks, and it seemed they had outrun thehelicoptersoratleasteludedtheminthedark.

Grace craned her neck aroundDr. Harriman. Although she could not see the copters’ lights,Gracecouldstillhearthem.Theysoundedclose.

Suddenlytheyroseoneithersideoftheswing-lo,theirlightsnearlyblinding.Ericpulledbackonthethrottleandthecraftroseabruptlyabovethehelicopters.Theredlaserssparkedonthesides.Pullingthethrottletotheright,Ericsentthecraftspeedinghorizontally,creatingadistancebetweenitandthecopters.“We’regoingdark,”Ericannouncedasheshuttheswing-lo’slightsandflewoutofthebeamscomingfromthehelicopters.

TheshakingthatGracehadnoticedearlierwasnowverystrong.Ericdrovethecrafttowardthetopsofsometrees.TheirspeedincreasedtremendouslyandGracelookedtoEricforanexplanation.“I’mridinganaircurrent,”heexplained.“It’spushingusalonglikeawave.”

Theswing-lowassuddenlyflungupwardwithamazingforce.“Wejustcollidedwithoneofthehelicopters!”Ericexplained.“Ithinkthey’recloaked.”

“Doyoumeaninvisible?”Graceasked.Ericnodded.“Stealthtechnology.”“Theyarecloaked,”Dr.Harrimanconfirmed.“IdevelopedthetechnologyforGlobal-1myself.”“Hangon!”Erictoldthem.“Iwanttogohigherintothisfogtogetawayfromthem.”Whenthey

hadclimbedsteeply,thecrafthungintheairamomentandthenbegantoshakeviolently,“What’shappening?”Dr.Harrimandemanded.“We’retoohigh!”Ericannouncedpointingtothegauge,whichread1000feet.Hereachedunder

hisseatandpulledoutanylonbagthesizeofabackpack.“There’soneunderyourseat,Grace,”hesaid.“Giveittothedoc.YouandIwillshare.”

Rummagingunderherfeet,GracewithdrewanylonbagidenticaltotheoneEricheld.“Whatisit?”

Thesoundsofcrackingmetalmadethemallturntowardthejaggedtearatthesideoftheswing-lo.

“Parachutes,”Ericreplied,pullingopenhissack.“Butit’spitchblackoutthere!”Dr.Harrimancried.“Justputiton,Doc,”Ericinsisted.The swing-lo rattled even more violently. “Put this on, Grace,” Eric said, handing Grace a

harness.“You’regoingtoclipontome.”“Listen,Doc,we’relowtodoaskydive,”EricinstructedasheandGracegotintotheirhalters.

“Pulltheripcordrightaway,assoonasyoujump.”HeshowedDr.Harrimanwheretopull.“Grace, aswe exit, tuck your chin and try to arch your back,” Eric explained, speakingwith

rapidurgency.“Don’tbescared.You’llbeclippedtome.”EricattachedGracetohisharness justas,withahorrificsoundof tearingmetal, theswing-lo

rippedapart,itspiecesdisappearingintothenight.SuddenlytherewasnothingbeneathGrace’sfeet.Shewantedtoscreambutthetremendousforce

ofthewindblowingintoherfacesnatchedawayherbreath.Theywerefallingthroughthenightsky.Gracewastooamazedtobeterrified.Howwasthishappeningtoher?Shewashighupintheblacknight,free-fallingrapidlythrough

thesky.Then all, at once, with a tremendous whoosh, the chute opened over her head and she was

floating,driftingtowardtheearthbelow.

Graceopenedhereyesand, in the first soft lightofmorning, sawEricasleepa fewfeetaway,hisnylonbackpackathisside.Shesatupquickly,alarmedandconfusedabouthowshe’dgottenintothisfieldofdensetallreeds.Andwhatwasshesittingon?

The nylon parachute beneath them snappedmemory back to her: Thewild feeling of fallingthrough the night sky; her immense relief when the parachute opened; the hard rolling landing,tangledinthelinesandnylonofthechute.Finallytheyhadstaggeredintothisfieldofhighstalksandgrassesandcollapsedinthissmallclearing,gratefultobealive.

Herlastmemorywasofwatchingthelightsofthetwocloakeddronehelicoptersflyoff,havingabandonedtheirpursuit.

Assuming,nodoubt,theyhaddiedinthecrash.Standing,GracesearchedforDr.Harrimanbutdidn’tseehim—thoughin thishighgrasshe

mightbeasleepjustyardsaway.Openinghermouth,shewasabouttocalltohim,butdecidedthatshedidn’twanttowakeEric.Notyet,anyway.

Grace needed time alone to think about everything that had happened in the last twenty-fourhours.

Therewassomuchtoabsorb,totrytomakesenseof.Shewas adopted. Thatwas okay.Her familywas still her family, the only family she’d ever

known.Butitmightexplainsomeofthedifferencesshe’dalwaysbeensoawareof—whyshewastheonlyonewhowasgoodatmath,includingherparents;whyshewastheonlyoneofthemwhowasathleticandhadnofearofheights;andprobablywhyshealonewasslimwhiletheotherstendedtobeshorterandrounder.

AllatonceGraceknewwhoshelookedlike:Dr.Harriman.Butwithbrowneyes.Sowhowasthisbrown-eyedbirthmotherofhers?

Grace rememberedKayla’s storyofbeingpart of an experiment.Mfumbehad said therewasnothinglikethatinherfile…butstill,itseemedpossible.ShewouldinsistthatDr.Harrimantellhereverything.Heowedherthatnow.ShehadsavedhimfromtheGlobal-1cops.

TurninghergazetoEric,shefeltlessangryathim,notasbetrayed.Itwasjustthatshehadlikedhim so much and had loved thinking he returned the attraction. She could deal with this newrelationshipthough.Hewasagoodguyandshewasgladhewasaround.Shefeltsaferwithhim.Shewouldneverbeabletotrusthimcompletely—butmaybeshecouldtrusthimenough.Hehadn’tleftherstrandedatGlobalHelixwhenheshouldhavetakenDr.Harrimaninsteadoftakingher.Thatsaidsomethingabouthisfeelingsforher,atleast.

“Grace?”Ericrubbedhiseyesashesatup.“Areyouokay?”“Nobrokenbones,”shereported.

“Boy,youhavealotofguts,”Ericpraisedher.Itbroughtasmiletoherlips.“Thanks.”“Areyouallright?Ihavesomefirstaidstuffinmypackifyouneedit.”Gracewas aware of her stinging arm that hadbecome scrapedwhen she landed, but the pain

wasn’ttoobad.“I’llbeallright.Howareyou?”“Stillinonepiece,”hereported.“You’vehadsomeday,huh?How’syourhead?”“Spinning,”Graceadmitted.“Nokidding,”hesympathized.Ericstoodandcheckedthearea.“NosignofHarriman.Ihopehe

madeitdownokay.”It hadn’t occurred toGrace thatDr.Harrimanmight not have survived the jump. “We should

lookforhim,”shesaidurgently.“Hemightbehurt.”“Youstayhereandcallouttohim.Ifwegetseparatedinthistallgrass,wemightneverfindeach

otheragain.”“Wecanfindeachother;wehaveourphones,”Gracesaidoutofhabit.Shecouldalwaysfind

her friends incrowdswhen theyeachhad theirphones—whichwasalways.Ever sinceshecouldstrapherbendablephonearoundherwrist,Graceevensleptwithit.

Gracecheckedherwrist,andtheimageofErictossingit,inpieces,outthebackofthespeedingtruckcamebacktoher.

Ericraisedhiseyebrows,shrugged,andgrinnedatherreaction.As the realization of her phoneless state returned to her, Grace frowned deeply. It was

disconcertingnottohaveherphoneandshefeltterriblyvulnerablewithoutit.Shehadneverbeforeworriedaboutbeinglost.WithTillyalwayscrooningdirectionsinherearandfriendsonlyafingerglideaway,shewasneverlost.Itwasasifshe’dsuddenlygonebackintimetosomelong-agopastwhenpeoplelivedwithoutbeingabletoalwayscontacteachother.

“You’dbeinaGlobal-1policestationrightnowifyouhadyourphone,”Ericremindedher.Gracewonderedifthatwouldhavebeensobad,butEricandtheothersseemedconvincedthatit

wouldbe.SodidDr.Harriman.Ericpulledhis lightweightpackontohisshoulders.“Imightaswell take thiswithme incase

he’shurt.”Grace began shouting for Dr. Harriman while Eric pushed off, also calling. The minute he

disappeared from sight, Grace fought down the panicky sensation that she was utterly alone. Shecouldstillhearhisvoice,andthathelped.

“Dr.Harriman!Whereareyou?”sheshouted,cuppingherhandstohermouthandraisinghervoicetofullvolume.“It’sGrace.Canyouanswer?”

Pausingtolistenforaresponse,sheheardnothingbuttherustlingofthegrassesinthebreeze…andthenEric’svoice,muffledanddistantbutreassuringlythere.

ThesensationofbeingvulnerableandalonegrewasGracecontinuedtocall.ThegrassswayedaroundherandGracehadtheeeriefeelingitwasclosinginonher,growingthickersomehow.It’sallinyourhead,sheassuredherself.You’reonlyscaredandimaginingthings.

Grace listened for the comforting soundofEric’s shouts…andheardonly the rushofwindthroughthegrass.Shewaitedsomemore,earsperked,butheardnohumanvoice.

Panicsnakeditswayupherspine,squeezingherwithcoldfear.Wherewashe?Howwouldshefindhimagain?Shedidn’tevenknowhowtofindherwayoutofthisfield.Ifshehadherphone,Tillywouldhaveherpositionbysatelliteandwouldbedirectinghereverystepoftheway.

She listened again and heard the rustle of grass being pushed aside, reeds being broken;someonewascomingthrough.Itwasmorethanoneperson.

ErichadfoundDr.Harriman!

The reeds parted and two Global-1 police officers stepped through, dressed in their blackuniforms.“GraceMorrow?”

Thisdidn’tmakesense.Howhadtheylocatedher?“Yes.Haveyoufoundmyfamily?”The officers exchanged darting glances andGrace saw that they didn’t understand. “Yes,” the

tallerofthetwoofficersanswered.“Youneedtocomewithus.”Gracetookastepback.Everyinstinctsaidhewaslying.Beforethedecisionhadevenfullyformedinhermind,Graceturnedintothetallreedsandran.

Theunderbrushcaughtonherclothingandthereedsscratchedandobstructedherpathbutshepushedthrough.

“Stop!Stopwhereyouare!”anofficercommandedbutshedidn’thesitate.AgunshotrangoutandtheshockofitdroppedGracetoherkneesbutshekeptgoing,clawing

herwaythroughthethornyundergrowth,movingwiththedesperationofahuntedanimal.Fromsomewhere,aloudbeepingsounded.“Thisway!Thisway!”thesecondofficercalledto

thefirst.“Grace!” Eric pushed his way through and dropped to his knees beside her. He pulled a

sandwich-sizedsilverpacketfromhisbackpackandrapidlyunfoldedittotentimesitsoriginalsize.“Getdown,”he insisted ashepushedGrace flat to thegroundwithonehandand tossed the silversheetoverherwiththeother.Helaydownbesideher,hisarmsdrapedoverherupperback.

“I’velostthesignal.”Theofficerswerenomorethantenyardsaway.“Howcouldthatbe?”theotherofficerquestioned.ThethunderouspoundingofGrace’shearthadtobeaudible—shecouldn’tbelieveitwasn’t—

but the officers beganmoving off in the opposite direction. “Shewas right around herewhen thesignalstopped,”sheheardoneofthemsay,buthisvoicewasrecedingratherthancomingcloser.

Thesunbeganbeatingon thesheetandGrace’sskinbecamemoistwithsweat.She raisedherhead.Ericgentlybutfirmlypresseditdownagain.Itseemedtoherthatshelaythereforalongtime,steaming under themetallic sheet, frightened to even breathe, pressing her chest into the ground,hopingtoquietthesoundofherdrummingheartbeat.

Finally,Erictappedhershoulderblade.“They’regone.”Grace rose on her elbows and began to pull off the sheet. Eric pulled it back over her head.

“Keepthatonorthey’llbeback,”hewarned.“They’vegotyousatellitetracked.”“Idon’tunderstand.What’sgoingon?”“Thesheetisblockingthesignal.That’swhyyoucan’ttakeitoff.”“But why would anyone want to track me in the first place? You guys keep talking about a

prophecy.Wouldyoupleasetellmeaboutit?”“It’s time you tell her, Eric.” Grace peeked from under the sheet in the direction where a

woman’svoicehadcomefrom,justtoEric’sright.A tall woman of Native American descent stood before her, seemingly appearing out of

nowhere.Shewasastrikingwomaninherforties,dressedinjeans,boots,andadenimvest.Beadedandturquoisebraceletsadornedbothofherarms.Herstraightblackhairwasbraideddownherback.Gracewassureshe’dseenthiswomansomewherebefore.Butwhere?WassheonTV,inthemovies?

“Eutonah!”Gracebreathedas the realizationhither.Thiswas thewell-knownbarcode tattooresistancefighter,thefamedmystic.“You’reoutofjail,”Gracenoted.Sherememberedreadingabouthow,despitealltherevelationsregardingthebarcodetattoo,Eutonahwasstillbeingheldinjailforheractivismagainstthetattoo.

“She’sstillinjail,”Ericsaid.“Butmymother ’sspiritisabletotravel.”“Yourmother?”Graceechoed,surprised.

As Eric nodded, Grace studied Eutonah more keenly and realized that there was somethingwaveringandinsubstantialaboutherpresence.Itremindedheroftheholographicclimbingwalls.ShethoughtoftheholographicFACE-TO-FACEfunctiononherphone.Butthiswasnophoned-inhologram.

“I’llshowyoutoasafeplace,”Eutonahsaid.“Therewecantalkmoreeasily.”SheturnedandspokedirectlytoGrace.“Thetimehascomeforyoutounderstandthatwehaveallbeenwaitingforyou.Beforeit’stoolate,ImusttellyouofTheBarCodeProphecy.”

The red line subway was becoming increasingly crowded with morning commuters riding theundergroundrailbetweendowntownLosAngelesandNorthHollywood.“Youcantakethatthingoffnow,”ErictoldGraceastheyenteredthesubwaycar.

Grace peeked out from the sheet that she had been holding over her head and shoulders andbegantofoldit.“Idon’tunderstandwhyIneedthis,”shesaid.

Ericpointedup.“Satellites.Buttheycan’tfindyouunderground.”“Istilldon’tgetit,”Graceinsisted.Findingnoavailableseat,theystoodamongtheotherstandingcommuters.Gracesearchedthe

subwayplatformforEutonah,whohadleftthem,sayingshe’dbebackshortly.“Whatdoyoumeanaboutsatellites?”Graceasked.ButEric’sfocuswasonayoungmanwithverydarkskindressedinagrayhoodedsweatshirt

andbaggy jeans. “Hangon aminute,”he said toGrace ashe left her toweave through the crowdtowardtheyoungman.“I’llberightback.”

Puzzled,GracewatchedasEricleanedcloseandwhisperedsomethingtothehoodedmanbeforeheadingbackinherdirection.

“Whoisthat?”GraceaskedonceErichadreturned.“Whoiswho?”“Thatguyyoujustspoketo.”“Ididn’tspeaktoanyone.”Grace shot him a look of exasperation and Eric grinned. “I’m just messing with you,” he

admitted.Hebenthisheadandleanedinclose,speakinginthefaintestwhisper.“He’saPostman.He’llfindKaylaandtheothers.Tellthemwe’resafe.”

“Howdidyouknowwhathewas?”Gracewhisperedbackinsurprise.Ericonlyputhisindexfingertohislips.“Tellyoulater.”ThesubwayrushedalongitsundergroundtrackandGracewishedshehadsomeideawherethey

wereheaded.Shehad somanyquestions andnot nearly enoughanswers. “Whydidn’t you tellmeyourmotherisEutonah?”shesaid.

“Youneverasked,”Ericjoked,butthengrewserious.“Asyouknow,mymotherisstillinjail,despiteallthepeoplecallingforherrelease.Whenshebecameactiveintheresistancetothebarcodetattoo,Iwenttolivewithmyuncle,RussellChaca.PeoplecallhimChiefRussell.Mydaddiedyearsago.Weallfigureditwouldbebetterifeveryonedidn’trealizeIwasEutonah’sson.Itwouldkeepmesafer.”

“IguessthatmeansyouhaveCherokeebackground.IalwaysheardyouwereHopi.”“Dad’sHopiandsomeIrish.Mom’sCherokee.TheymetatDartmouth.”

“Tellmeabouttheprophecy,”Gracewhispered.“Nothere,”Ericrepliedsoftly.TheyrodeforseveralstopsuntilEricindicatedwithanodthattheyshouldgetoff.Theplatform

attheirstopwasemptyandGracefollowedErictotheend.“Whatareyoudoing?”shegaspedasEricleapedofftheend,rollingtoastandingstoponthedirtgroundwithexceptionalagility.

“Yourturn,”hesaid,smilingupather.HethinksIcan’t,Gracerealized,interpretingthebravadoinhisgrinasachallenge.Couldshe?

Gracewasn’tcertain.Shewasusedtolandingongymmats,notharddirt.Andshewouldbefallingtoalowerlevel.

Withoutfurtherconsideration,Graceranafewstepsbeforelaunchingintoaforwardflip.Whensheplantedherlanding,herrightanklecavedslightlyfromtheunevenrockydirtunderherfeet.Still,shewasstanding.

“Finallevel!”Ericpraisedher.“Itoldthemyouweregoingtobegreatatthis.”“Greatatwhat?”Graceasked,workinghardnottobeamwithself-satisfiedpride.“You’llsee.I’llshowyoulater.”Ericbeckonedforhertofollowhimforseveralyardsdeeper

intothetunnel.“Thedoorisrightthere.”Eutonah’svoicecamefrombehindGrace.“How did you —?” Grace cut herself short. The mysterious Eutonah could be anywhere,

apparently.Ericusedakey tounlocka roomno larger thanawalk-in closet.When theywere inside, he

turnedonasinglebulbthatglaredfromtheceilingandrelockedthedoor.Eutonahopenedametalcase in the corner and lifted out a helmet. Grace had never seen anything like it. It had a smallkeyboardandminiaturecomputerscreeninthefrontandwirewrappedaround.

“Avirtual reality helmet,”Eutonah explained. She took a cord from the box and plugged themiddleofitintothehelmet’skeyboardsothatacordofequallengthextendedfromeitherside.“Thisextenderallowsallthreeofustouseitatonce.”

“Use it how?”Grace asked nervously, noticing that each end of the cord contained an elasticloop.

“Don’t be frightened; there is no danger in this,” Eutonah assured Grace as she punchednumbersintothekeyboard.Eutonahthensettledonthegroundinacross-leggedsittingposition.EricsatonherleftandindicatedwithagesturethatGraceshouldbeseatedonEutonah’srightside.GracefollowedEric’sexampleasheslippedtheendofonehalfofthecordaroundhiswristandshedidthesamewiththeoppositeend.

“Closeyoureyesandholdmyhand,”Eutonahinstructedthem.“You’regoingtofeel likeyouhavetraveled,butyouwillreallybeherethewholetime.”

“Can’tyoudothatalreadywithoutthisdevice?”Gracequestioned.“I’mabletotravel,”Eutonahagreed,“butneitherofyoucan.Atleastnotyet.”SomanyquestionsplayedonthetipofGrace’stongue,butbeforeshecouldvoiceanyofthem,

atinglingsensationovertookeveryinchofherskin.Itwentdeeperintoherbodyuntilshefeltthatherboneswerevibratingandherskullitselfquiveredwithanunsettlingbuzz.

Gracewasabouttocryout,todemandthatEutonahshutthehelmetdown,whenalltheshakingabruptlystopped.

Shewasno longer in thedingysubwayclosetbutstoodonan immenseflat rock.Avividskypressed down on a vast expanse of orange-brown desert with areas of green shrubbery. Jaggedmountainstoweredinthedistance.Itsurprisedherthatalthoughshewasalone,shefeltnofear.Therewassomethingstrangelysoothingintheuttersilenceofthismajesticplace.

“Weareathousandfeetabovesealevel,”Eutonahsaid.

Grace turned to find Eutonah and Eric behind her. “We are on sacred Hopi land,” Eutonahcontinued.“TheHopibelievethatthisisthecenteroftheuniverse.”

Thiswasn’thardforGracetoaccept.Shecouldfeel thepowerof theplacecoursingintoher,energizingherspine,her limbs,evenhermind.Neverbeforehadsheexperiencedsuchacalmandcenteredsensationofcompletewell-being.

“ThisisSpiderRock,thegreatplaceofvisionforthemany.We’reinNavajoterritory,whichringstheHopilands,”Eutonahtoldthem.

Gracefeltasifshecouldtouchtheturquoisesky.Belowherwasanexpanseofredrockdesertringedwithbouldersandmesas.

“Fiveyearsago the leadersofmanyNativeAmericannationsmethere fora secret tribunal,”Eutonahwenton.“IwasamongthedelegationrepresentingtheCherokeeNation.Wecametodiscussnothinglessimportantthanthefutureofthisplanet.Thedelegatesfromeachtribegatheredtheirend-of-dayspropheciestoseewhatwecouldlearnaboutwhatistocome.”

“Whatdidyouconclude?”Ericasked.“Wefoundalotofoverlapinthedifferentmythsandpredictions,andtheHopiseemedtohave

themostwell-developedprophecies.Manyoftheeventspredicted—thecomingofthewhiteman,thelossofourlands,andtheoilspilldevastationbackin2010—havecometopassalready.”

“Doesthatmeantheendoftheworldisnear?”Graceasked.“Itmightbe;we’renotsure.Somanyof theprophecieshavecome topass.TheHopibelieve

therewill be great destruction onEarth, but that theywill be carried from the destroyedEarth onwinglessflyingships.”

“Whatwillhappentoeveryoneelse?”Graceasked.“TheHopi have nine prophecies, all ofwhich have been fulfilled.A tenth prophecy has been

discovered.Veryfewhaveeverseenit.”“Whatdoesitsay?”Ericasked.“WecallitTheBarCodeProphecy.”Graceviewedthebarcodetattooonherwrist.“Thisbarcode?”“Yes,” Eutonah confirmed with a nod. “We call it that because we believe that the lines of

destructionthatthetenthHopiprophecyreferstoarethelinesofthebarcodetattoo.”“Whywouldyouthinkthat?”Ericinquired,hisbrowsknitinconcernedconcentration.Eutonah headed to the edge of the rockmesa onwhich they stood and laid on her stomach,

beckoningforGraceandErictodothesame.“Seethatopeningcutinthemountain?”Eutonahsaid,pointingstraightdown.“Canyougetdowntoit,Eric?”

“SureIcan,”Ericansweredconfidently.If anyone could, it was Eric — but a slip would be certain death. They should return with

climbing line.BeforeGracewas able to express her concern,Ericwas flat against the side of themesa.Sheheldherbreath,notwantingtodisturbhisconcentrationinanyway.

Withcautiousbutdeliberatemovements,Ericmadehiswaytowardtheopeninginthemesawall,sometimesclingingbyhisfingertips.Gracewastornbetweenfascinationandherdesiretolookaway.A sidelongglance atEutonah revealed that thewoman’s face hadbecome a stonemask, reflectingnothingbutabsorptioninEric’sprogress.

WhenGracedaredtolookatEricagain,hewaswithdrawingastonetabletofabouttwelvebyeightinchesfromtheopening.Hetuckeditintothebeltedwaistofhisjeansandbeganhisascent.

OnlywhenhishandappearedabovetheedgeofthemesadidGracefeelitwassafeforhertomove.Scramblingtotheedge,sheclutchedhiswristtoassisthisreturn.Beforerising,hepassedthestonetabletupandshetookitfromhimwithherfreehand.EutonahlaidonherstomachandhelpedpullEricupandovertosafety.

“Thanks,”hesaid,lyingonhisbackbesideGraceandhismother.“Here’swhywethinkthereisatenthprophecy,”Eutonahrevealed,sittingwiththetabletonher

knee.LeaninginclosetoEutonah,Gracesawaseriesofpictographs,straightlines,andstickfigures.BelowthesewerewritingsinEnglish,asifsomeonehadinterpretedthemeaningofthepictographs.Eutonahbegantoreadtheengravedwriting:

Ourbrothershallreturn.Hewillbringwithhimtheinnocentdaughterfatheredbythemasterofdestruction.Theheavenlybodieswillknowhereverymovebythelinesofdestructionthefatherhascarvedonherarm.Shewillfleehimbutthemaster’swarriorswillnotstopuntiltheypulltheheavenlybodiestotheearthandthen…

ThetinglingthathadrunginGrace’sskullreturnedfullforce.Herhandsflewtoherheadandshesqueezedhereyesshut.Eutonah’shandencircledGrace’swristandshewastravelingoncemore.

WhenGrace reopenedhereyes, shewasonceagain in thedank,harshly lit subwaystoragecloset.EutonahandEricwerewithher.“Thetimeranout,”Eutonahexplained.“Thehelmetrunsonatimerforourownprotection.”

“Doyouknowtherestoftheprophecy?”Graceasked.“Whatyouheardisallanyoneknows,”Eutonahtoldthem.“Duringthemeetingofchieftains,we

used the prophecies to lead us to the stone tablet hidden in the mesa wall. Several of the eldersinterpretedthepictographs,butthetabletwasbroken.Somewherethereisamissingpiece.”

“Whatdotheeldersthinkitmeans?”Ericasked.“Youaretooyoungtorememberthis,butbackintheyear2012,manypeoplebelievedthatthe

MayancalendarhadpredictedtheendoftheworldwouldarriveinDecemberofthatyear,”Eutonahsaid.

“Obviouslyitdidn’t,”Ericpointedout.“Thedateseemedtocomeandgowithoutevent,buttherearemanyofuswhobelieveitwasthe

beginningoftheend,”Eutonahcountered.“ItwastheyearJonathanHarrimaninventedthebarcodetattooandGlobal-1firstlauncheditinAsia.IttookonlyanotherthirteenyearsforthetattootospreadthroughAfricaandthenEuropebeforeitgottoAmericain2025.”

“Soyou’resayingtheMayanprophecydidcometopass,afterall?”Gracesaid.“Yes. It just happened very quietly,”Eutonah saidwith a nod. “But there are those among the

chieftainswhobelievethatweareinthefinalstagesoftheprophecy.”“What’ssupposedtohappen?”Ericasked“Nooneknows,butmuchofwhathappensintheendwillbeuptothetwoofyou.”“Us?!”Gracecried.“WethinkEricisthebrothermentionedintheprophecies,”Eutonahreplied.“Hecombinesthe

bloodof twogreat Indiannations.Hisfatherwasdescendedfroma lineofHopichieftains.Onmyside he is descended from powerful Cherokee shamans, spiritual men and women with highlydevelopedgifts.”

“AndmebecausemybiologicalfatherisJonathanHarriman?”Gracededucted.“IshereallytheMasterofDestruction?”

“Itmightnoteverhavebeenhisintentiontoharmanyone,”Eutonahallowed,“butthethingheinventedandthecompanythathasgrownrichandsopowerfulbecauseofhisinventionmakeshimanexcellentcandidateforthetitle.”

“Whatabouttheheavenlybodiesfallingfromtheskies?”Ericasked.“Wedon’tknow,”Eutonahadmitted.“Butwedoknow this:TheHopibelieve that the landwe

werejustnowonisthecenteroftheuniverse,andGlobal-1isstrip-miningitforminerals.Everyday

theyusegallonsandgallonsofpreciouswatertomakeaslurryofliquidchemicalsandwaterbecauseit’stheleastexpensivewaytotransporttheminerals.”

GracerealizedEutonah’smeaning.“Thebalanceoftheworldisbeingupset.”“Oftheuniverse,”Ericamended.“Themoon affects the tides;who’s to say that themineral content of theEarth doesn’t affect

things floating in space?”Eutonah said. “If the center of theuniverse is destroyedby thegreedofGlobal-1,whoknowswhatcouldhappen?”

Gracesuddenlyfeltthatshecouldn’tcatchherbreath.Thiswasalltoomuch.“Thisiscrazy,”shesaid,panicrising inhervoice.“Idon’tbelieve inprophecies.Andevenif it’sall true,whatdoes ithavetodowithme?”

“You’rethedaughtertheprophecytalksabout,”Eutonahreplied.“I’mnot!”Gracerefusedtobelieveit.“I’mGraceMorrowandIhaveafamilythatismissing.I

havenorighttobefoolingaroundwithallofthisrightnow.Ineedtobelookingforthem.”“Yourbesthopeoffindingthemiswithus,”Ericinsistedashelaidhishandreassuringlyonher

arm.“Idon’tbelieveyou!”Gracecried,pullingawayfromhistouch.“You’reallinvolvedinthisbar

codetattooresistanceandthat’sallyouwantmefor.”ShegrabbedthekeysEutonahhadplacedonthevirtual realityhelmetcaseandopened thedoor. “I’msorry,but I can’thelpyou. Ihave to findmyfamily.”

ThemomentGracesteppedout,shealmostcollidedwithasubwaycarzoomingdownthetrack.Itplasteredhertothesideofthewall,throwingdirtanddebrisinherface.

Assoonasithadpassed,sherandownthetrackandwasabletopullherselfupontotheplatformat the endof the subwaycar and letherself inside.She slipped into a seatby thebackcar,pantingheavilyfromtheeffort.

CommutersslippedwarysidelongglancesatGrace,andsherealizedhowdisreputableshemustlook, covered in dirt from the passing train and with her hair knotted and wind-swept from herparachutejump.Herstomachgrumbledloudly,remindingherthatallshe’deatensincethedaybeforewasagranolabarthatshe’dhastilyboughtonthewaytothesubwaystation.

Adirty,disheveledmanbearingasignenteredthetrain.Itread:THEENDISNEAR.Peoplemovedawayfromhim,seemingunconcernedwithanythingotherthanhispungentbodyodor.

“Brothersandsisters,”themanaddressedthecrowdinaloudvoiceasthesubwaytrainleftthestation.“Youmustunderstandthatwehavereachedthelastdaysofthisevil,corruptworld.Preparetobreatheyourlast.”

Withdrawing a harmonica from his pocket, the dirty prophet began to play an old song thatGracerecognized;inherheadshesangtheverses,whichwereaboutitbeingtheendoftheworldassheknewit.Whenhewasdone,heleanedinclosetoeachcommuter,askingthattheydonatemoneyin repayment forhis song.The trainwaspulling into thenext stationwhenhe reachedGrace.Shehopedtoescapehimbutheblockedherpathbeforeshecouldfullyrisefromherseat.Heleanedinsoclosethattheircheekstouched.Sherecoiledfromhisawfulodor.

“I’maPostman,”hewhispered.“Iknowwhereyourfamilyis.Followmeoutatthisstop,butnottooclosely.”

The subway doors opened, and before Grace could decide if she should trust him, he wasmovingtowardtheexit.

Inasecondshewouldlosesightofhimaltogether.Gracebeganmoving,uncertainifitwastherightthingtodo.Butwhatchoicedidshehave?If

shedidn’tactonthis,shewasatadeadend.Commutersclusteredinthedoorway,forcingGracetopushherwaythrough.

Thesubwaydoorswhooshedshut,catchingthehemofhershirt.Thetrainbegantopullforward.Frightenedthatshewouldbedraggedalong,Gracepulledatthehemwithallherstrength.Thehemtoreandrippedthebottomhalfofthegarment,tearingoffasthetrainpickedupspeed.

GracesearchedineverydirectionforthemanwhohadclaimedtobeaPostman,andspiedhimat the top of the station stairs. With a spring, she rushed up the steps, weaving past departingcommuters,ignoringtheircursesandcomplaintsasshepushedpastthem.Whenshereachedthetop,thePostmanhadmoveddowntheblockandwaspretendingtoloiteratanewsstand.

As she approached, their eyes met for just a flicker before he once again moved ahead.Confidentnowthathewouldwaitforher,Gracerelaxedenoughtoallowherselftotakeagoodlookatherguide.Fromthestrengthandagilityofhismovement,sherealizedthathewasyoungerthanhehadappeared at first,maybe in hismid-twenties. In fact, not only did hemovewith the poise andspeedofayoungperson,hetraveledwithexceptionalease,rollingeasilyoveragarbagecanthathadfalleninhispathandnavigatingaroundadogwalkerwithfivedogswithoutbreakingthefluidityofhismovement.

Gracewas impressed and recalled the catlike easewithwhichEric had jumped into a rollingstandwhenhe’dleapedfromthesubwayplatform.

ThePostman crossed a busy street into a park, andGracewas delayed at the red light.Onceshe’dcrossed,ittookherananxiousmomentbeforeshesawhimlyingonthegrassattheotherendof the park’s diagonal path. She was hurrying in his direction when a shadow crossed her path.Stoppingshort,Gracefacedtwoblack-uniformedGlobal-1officers.

“GraceMorrow,youmustcomewithus.”“Haveyoufoundmyfamily?”Graceaskedhopefully.“Justcomewithus,please.”“Howdidyoufindme?”Gracewonderedaloud.Wasitreallytruethatwithoutthesilversheet

theycouldtrackhereverymovement?Overtheofficer ’sshoulder,GracespiedthePostmanshufflinganxiously.Whoknewwhereher

familywas,thePostmanorGlobal-1?Whoshouldshetrust?“Weweresenttogetyou,”theGlobal-1officersaid.“ButhowdidyouknowwhereIwas?”Gracerepeated,backingaway.“We’lltakeyoutoyourfamily,”theofficersaid.WhenthePostmanhadsaidthesamething,she’dfollowedhim.Whydidshewanttorunfrom

theseGlobal-1officersnow?“Wherearewegoing?”sheaskedthem,continuingtobackup.“Ifyoudon’tcooperate,we’llbeforcedtoarrestyou.”“Arrestmeforwhat?”Graceasked.TheofficerreachedforherandGracetookoffrunning.Sheranwitheveryinchofstrengthand

lung power in her, racing toward the Postman but not seeing him. The officers chased, but wereobstructedbyalineofsmallchildrenonacamptrip.

Gracespeddownthecitystreet,careeningaroundacorneronlytobemetbyaparkedGlobal-1squadcar.Astheofficersfromthecarapproached,sheduckedthroughtraffic,keepinglowandrandowntheclosestsidestreetontheotherside.Whenshereachedtheend,twomoreGlobal-1officersappeared.

Runningoff toher right, theydidn’tseemtobe trying thathard tocatchher. Itwasas thoughtheyweresocertainshecouldn’tescapethattheyweretakingtheirtime,tighteningtheirgriponhergradually.Theideademoralizedher,madeherfeelshewasalreadycaughtintheirtrap.

Gracepantedassheturnedintoanalley.AnothersquadcarcruisedtoastopoutonthestreetandGraceturnedtoseeshewastrappedbyabrickbuildingattheendofthealley.Noofficersyet,butshewassuretheywerecoming.

“Onbelay.”Grace looked up to the direction of the voice and sawEric looking down at herfromtherooftop.Hewasabouttwostorieshighandhe’dthrowndownaropethathadalooptiedtotheend.“Butmakeitfast,”headdedasshesteppedintotheloop.

Reachingup,Gracegrippedthemortarthatheldthebricksandbegantoclimb.Whenshewasnearlytothetop,apieceofbrickcrumbledbeneathherhandandshelosthold.Inhersurprise,sheslippedandswungoutfromthebuilding.

“Gotya,”Ericassuredherfromabove.“You’realmosthere.Refocusandkeepcomingup.”Gracefoundherholdsoncemoreandcontinuedtothetop.Erichelpedhoistherovertheledge

whilehegazedanxiouslyupattheskyandthendownbelow.“They’velostus?”Gracesuggestedhopefully.“Theycanalwaysfindyou,”Ericsaid.“Fortherestofyourlife,they’realwaysgoingtobeable

tofindyou.”Heheldadevicethesizeofacellphoneoverheranditbegantobuzz.“Butfornow,we’re jamming their signal.”He did a quick comic dance around her singing as hewent, “We bejammin’.Webejammin’.”Thenhestoppedandgrabbedherarm.“Nowlet’sgetoutofhere.”

“Wesuspectedit,butnowwe’realmostcertain,”Kaylasaid.ShesatonthehoodofacarparkedinthesameundergroundgaragethatGracehadbeeninthedaybefore.GracewasstandingbesideEricandMfumbe,allofthemleaningagainstaparkedtractortrailer.

“We’re pretty sure you’ve been nano-chipped,” Kayla went on. “We have information thateveryonewhoreceivedthebarcodetattoointhelast threemonthswasinjectedwithamicroscopictrackingchip.It’sasiftheyputamolecular-sizedcellphoneinsideyouandit’sconstantlypinging.”

“Pinging?”Gracequestioned.“Sendingsignalstoatrackingsatellite,”Mfumbeclarified.“Global-1hasbeenworkingon this idea forawhile.Mymother,whowasamaternitynurse,

sawthemactuallyinsertingchipsintothefeetofinfants,”Kaylacontinued.“Weincludedthisintheinformation we sent to Ambrose Young, and he exposed it in the Senate investigation. Global-1admitted it and claimed itwas simply an anti-kidnappingmeasure.Global-1wasordered to shut itdown.”

“Sonowthey’retryingitanotherway,”Mfumbesaid.“Iwantitoutofme!”Gracecried.Theideathatsomethinghadbeenputinherbodywithouther

permissionorknowledgewassuchaviolation.Thenotionthatitwasatrackingdevicemadeherfeellikeananimalcaughtinanet.“DoyoumeanthatGlobal-1isfollowingthemovementsofeveryonemyage?”

“Noteveryone,”Kaylareplied.“They’renotinterestedinlocatingeveryone.Buttheycanlocateanyone who is your age just by punching in satellite coordinates that they took when you weretattooed.”

“You’reJonathanHarriman’sdaughter.Mostlikelytheywanttouseyoutogettohim,”Mfumbesaid.

“Hedoesn’tcareaboutme,”Graceargued.“Ibarelyknowhim.”“Hemightcaremorethanyouthink,”Kaylasaid.“Myguessisthattheywantsomethingfrom

himandhe’snotcooperating.Theywantyouasabargainingtool.”“Andit’spossibletheyknowabouttheprophecy,”Ericpointedout.“Maybe,”Kaylasaid.“Butmaybenot.”“Andthat’swhytheywentaftermyfamily?Asabargainingtool,too?”Graceasked.“Wethinkso,”Mfumbereplied.“Whentheydidn’tgetyouatyourhouse,theytookyourfamily

knowingyouwouldcometothepolicelookingforthem.Besidesthat,youradoptiveparentsmightknowmoreabouttheGlobal-1programthantheywantrevealed.”

Again,Graceclungtothehopethatthey’dgottenaway.Butitseemedlessandlesslikely.“Youknowwhat?Idon’tcareaboutanyofthis.Ionlywanttofindmyfamily.”

“We’regoingtofindthem,”Erictoldher.“Youandmetogether.”“Howcanyoufindthem?”Gracechallenged.“FindingpeopleiswhatIdo.I’maPostman.AndI’mgoingtotrainyoutobeaPostman,too.

I’vebeenwatchingyou.You’vegotthestufftodoit.BecomingaPostmanisgoingtogiveyoutheskillstofindanyoneyouwant,includingyourfamily.”

Ericunlockedthebackdooroftheclimbingcenter.“ThereasonwegettousethisplaceisbecausetheownerisaPostman.Heencouragesustotrainhere.”

“Arewegoingtodomoreclimbing?”Graceasked.“Maybelater.TodayI’mgoingtostartyourtrainingasafreerunner.”“Awhat?”“It’skindof likebeinganurbanninja;youmove throughacity landscapewith thefluidityof

waterflowingthroughrocks,withcompleteeaseandtotalefficiency.”“ThePostmanIfollowedtheotherdaymovedlikethat,”Gracerecalled.“Hewasjustplaying,”Ericsaid.“Youshouldseehimwhenhe’strying.”“Howdoyouknow?”“Itoldhimwheretofindyou,andIwastrailingyou,”Ericrevealed.“HowdoyouthinkIjust

happenedtopopuponthatrooftop?”“Thenhedoesn’tknowwheremyfamilyis?”Graceasked,disappointed.“Idon’tknowifheknows.Didhesayhedid?”Gracenodded.“TheGlobal-1copssaidtheyknew,too.Iseveryonelyingtome?”“Thecopsprobablywere,”Ericconcluded.“ButthePostmanmightreallyknowwheretheyare.

Your family might be trying to send you a message. If the message was meant only for you, hewouldn’ttellmenomatterhowmuchhetrustedme.It’sinthePostman’scode,awayofinsuringtheprivacyofotherpeople’smessages.”

Hereachedintohisbackpackandpulledoutasilverbolerovest.“Putthison,”hesaid,handingittoher.“Allysonmadeitforyou.Itshouldshieldyoufromthetrackingdevices.”

Eric took the jamming device from his backpack. “I’m setting this up because that vest isn’tgoingtodotheentirejob,”hetoldher.“Everytimethattrackerchipcirculatesoutfromunderthatvest,theycanfindyou.Ideallyyoushouldbecoveredfromheadtotoe.”

“Howhotanduncomfortable!”Graceremarked.“Iknow.Everyoneisgoingtostartdressinglikemedievalknightsinarmor.Itwillbecoming

backinfashion,”Ericjoked.“It’llbekindofhardtomovearound.”“Iknow.We’llallbelivingundergroundwearingarmor.Notmuchfun.Ikindoflikesunlight.”“Butpeoplewhohavenoreasontohidewon’thavetoworry,”Gracepointedout.“Yeah,onlydangerouscriminalslikeyouwillhavetogounderground.”“ButI’mnot—”“That’smypoint.Anyonewhogets inGlobal-1’swaycanbepickedupandeliminated.”Eric

snappedhisfingers.“Easyasthat.”GraceputonthevestasEricledherdownstepsandintoaverylargebasementgymfurnished

withropes,immensefoamcubes,andpitsoffoamblocks,trapezeswings,anunevenparallelbarandabalancebeam.“Evertakegymnastics?”heasked.

“ItookclassesasakidandI’montheteaminschool.Iwassupposedtobecaptainoftheteamthiscomingyear.”

“Ithoughtso.Youmovelikeagymnast.”

“I’mtallthough.Allthereallygoodgymnastsareontheshorterside.”“Ibetthebalancebeamisyourbestpiece,”Ericsaid.“Itis,”Graceconfirmed.“Howdidyouknow?”“Thewayyoumove.Graceisagoodnameforyou.”Ericsmiledandseemedtogazestraightinsideher.Shewassuddenlycertainhefeltsomething

forher,afeelingother thanfriendship.HewascloseenoughtokissherandGracethoughthewasaboutto.Shewantedhimto.

“I’mgoingtoshowyouatraininghologram,”Ericsaidinstead.“Finallevel,”Gracereplied,hopinghecouldn’ttellwhatshe’dbeenthinking.Ericwenttothewallandclickedabutton.Multicoloredparticlestingledintheairandformed

intotheshapeofthegray-hoodedyoungPostmanErichadspokentointhesubway.“He’snotactuallyhere,ofcourse,”Ericexplained.“Buthemadethevideoandisthemodelfor

thehologram.HisnameisJavaun.”ThehologramofJavaunbeganrunningveryfastaroundthegym.Gracewasamazedasheran

upthesideofapaddedwall,nearlytotheceiling,andthenbackdownagain.Launchinghimselfoverthe pit of foamblocks, he spun in the air and rolled to a standing stop on the other side and keptmovingtotheparallelbars,whichhespunon,changinghandsseveraltimesbeforeshootingovertothebalancebeam,executingabackwardwalk-over,andspinningtothefloor.

“Wow,”Gracebreathed,genuinelyawed.“That’s justa trainingsession.Waituntilyouseeit inreal life.PeoplethinkthePostmenhave

goneaway,butwehaven’t.There’smoreneed forusnow thanever. In fact,we’ve steppedupourgamebyaddingfreerunning.”

“Canyoudoallthat?”Graceasked.“Yep,”Ericsaidwithanod.“Andsoonyou’llbeableto,aswell.”“Idon’tthinkso.”Gracecouldn’timagineit.“You will, because I’m going to teach you and I’m one of the best teachers around,” Eric

insisted.“Modest,too,”Graceteased.“Noreasonformodestyatthisjuncture.Itiswhatitis,”Ericsaid.Forthenextfivehours,EricandGracewentoutsidewhereGraceexperiencedthemostgrueling

trainingofherlife.Despiteheryearsofexperiencewithgymnastics,shefeltlikeabeginner.“Grabhold!Pretendyou’reabugonawall!”heinstructedher.“Youcanrunfasterthanthat!Raceupthatwallbeforegravityknowsyou’rethere,”heshouted.“Roll!Roll!Andonyourfeet!”Attheendofthetrainingsession,Gracefeltsweatyandbroken.“Notbadforthefirstsession.

Tomorrowwe’lltrysomebasicurbanfree,”Ericsaid.“HowlonghaveyoubeenaPostman?”GraceaskedEricastheyreturnedtothebasement,safely

underground.“Justforthelastyear,”Ericreplied.“Iloveit.Ittestsyourbodyandyourmindtothemax.Plus,

I’mhelpingpeople tonothave theireverycommunicationmonitoredbyGlobal-1.Thatmakesmefeelgood.”

“Inwhatwaysdoes it testyourmind?”Gracewanted toknow.Theways inwhich it tested thebodywereobvious.

“Youhavetolookforthelinksbetweenpeople,aswellasbetweenplaces,”Ericreplied.“Everhearofsixdegreesofseparation?”

“No.”“It’stheideathateveryoneintheworldisconnectedtoeveryoneelseinsixmoves.SayIhaveto

getanotetoaguyinBrooklyn,NewYork.IsearchhimontheInternet,andformostpeoplethereisaton of info there. Sometimes I can find the address right online. In that case I just find a Postmanheading thatway and pass on themessage. If I can’t, I start looking for peoplewith the same lastname,peoplewhowork in thesamebusiness,havesimilar interests,whowent to thesameschool,andonandon.Lotsof thetimeyouwindupfindingthefriendofafriendofafriendwhoworkedwithaguywhoknowstheperson’ssister.ThePostman’sgoalistodoitinnomorethansixmoves.”

“Itdoesn’tsoundeasy,”Graceremarked.“HowdoyouknowwhichPostmantocontact?”“You hear things and talk to people. After a while, you’ll get to know. I’ll help you,” Eric

assuredher.“DothePostmenallknoweachother?”“Yeah,butittakesawhile,”Ericreplied.“It’sbetterifweknowPostmentohandmessagesoff

to,butthere’snocentraldirectoryoranything.Youjusthavetogettoknowpeople.”“WhataboutthePostmanwhosaidheknewwheremyfamilywas?Doyouknowhim?”“Thatguywhoposesasasubwaynut?HisnameisDarrell.Javaunisafriendofhis.Theywork

thesubwayalot.I’llfindhimforyou.”“Doyouthinkyoucould?”“Sure.I’llaskhimwhatheknows,”Ericassuredher.“Grace,you’regoingtobegoodatthis.I

thinkyou’lllikeit,too.”GracewasexcitedtotrybeingaPostman,butitstillsoundeddauntingtoher.Thelonghoursof

traininghadtaxedhertoherlimitandshecouldn’tquiteimaginedoingitagaininthemorning.“CanIrestnow?”sheasked.

“Findapieceoffoamandsettlein,”Erictoldher.Droppingintoapitoffoamblocks,Gracepiledsomeblocksunderherheadandstretchedout.

Shewasawareofeverymuscleofherbodybecauseeachonefelthotandstretchedtoitslimit;eachjointached.

Ericpiledthreematsdownandlayonhisstomach.“Areyoustillmadatme,Grace?”“Idon’tmindworkinghard,”sheanswered.“Iwanttolearnit.”“Notabout that. Iknowyou’renotmadabout that,”Ericsaid.“Butyouwereangrywhenyou

learnedIwastheoneassignedtofollowyou.”Thiswasn’therinstructortalking.OraPostman.OraDecodeoperative.Suddenly,Ericwasa

guyagain—theguywhowenttoherhighschool.Theguyshe’dliked.Thetruthwas,Gracewasn’tmadanymore.Justsad.Still.“Ithoughtwewerereally…friends,”shesaid,readytoleaveitatthat.“We’vebecomefriends.Ireallylikeyou,Grace.Ithinkyou’resmartandbrave.”“Thanks.”“Andpretty…beautiful,really.”Grace drew in a long, slow breath. Beautiful. He thought she was beautiful. She had never

thoughtofherselfthatwaybutitwasenoughthathedid.“Imeanit,Grace.I’mnotjustgivingyoualine.Beingassignedtofollowyouwaslikeagift.It’s

beenthebestassignmentI’veeverhad.”“Thanks,Eric…forsayingallthat.Itmeansalotformetoknowyou’renotjustspendingtime

withmebecauseyouhavenochoice.”“I hope you’ll always spend time with me,” Eric said softly. “I don’t like the idea of being

separatedfromyou.”HiswordsmadeGrace takeashort,quickbreathof surpriseddelight.Didhemean that?“Me

neither,” she replied, suddenly certain that she meant it. Being with Eric was so natural. Hisconfidencemadeherfeelthateverythingcouldbemanagedandwouldcomeoutallrightintheend.

Evenwithsomanythingsgoingsowrong.Ericyawnedwidelyashestretched.“Weshouldsleep.Tomorrowwillbejustashardastoday.”“Can’twait,”Gracerepliedwithoutatraceofsarcasm.“Goodnight,”sheadded,driftingoffto

sleepwithasmilelingeringonherlips.

Inthemorning,Ericgentlyshookherawakeandhandedheracartonoforangejuiceandabutteredroll.Brushinghairfromhereyes,shesatupanddrank.“Thanks.”

“Today we’re going to start you free running outside,” Eric said. “You’ll have to wear thejacket.”

“What’sitlikeoutside?”“Notbad,”heanswered,“butthere’sastrangelightinthesky.I’mnotsurehowtodescribeit.

It’salmostasifthesunisextrabright.”

PasadenaSun Pasadena,California—July14,2026

SolarFlaresDisruptWorldwideCommunications

AreporttodayfromtheU.S.NationalOceanicandAtmosphericAdministration(NOAA)claimsthatvastlyincreasedsolaractivityinthesun’scoronahascreatedasuddenbrightnessintheskyand has disrupted many communication venues that rely on satellite signals. Lead scientistHeatherMitchellexplainsthat“streamsofhighenergyparticlesknownassolarwindeventsorcoronalmassejectionimpacttheEarth’smagnetosphereandrepresenthazardstospacecraftandsatellites.”

NOAA claims that its scientists did not anticipate this development to happen for manyhundredsofyears.“This is themostunprecedentedsolaractivitywehaveeverobservedinalltheyearswehavebeenstudyingsolaractivity,”Mitchellnoted.

Whenaskedwhatmightbecausingthis,MitchellrepliedthatNASAscientistsaredividedintheiropinion.“SomeareofthemindthatthisissimplyasolarpatternmuchlikewhattheEarthgoesthroughwithfluctuationsinitstemperature.Othersbelievethatthereissomechangeintheoverall atmosphere that is causing this. Since Earth is the only inhabited planet, to ourknowledge, there are thosewho think changes here on Earthmight be prompting these solarirregularities.”NASAhas evencalled in aNativeAmerican shaman from the IroquoisNationwho told reporters, “The native people from across the continent aremeeting to discuss thisissue.TheEarthisnotinbalance.Asinahumanbody,whenoneofthepartsisill,theotherpartsareaffected.Soitiswiththeuniverse.”

KaylaleanedagainstoneofthecarsparkedinthegarageandhandedGraceashoppingbag.“Somepresentsforyourbigday,”shesaidwithagrin.TodaywouldbeGrace’sfirstrunasaPostman.

WhenGracepulled theblackhip-length jacket from thebag, the silver liningcrinkledgently.“Reachinthepocket,”Kaylaadded.

When she reached in, Grace found a metal box resembling one of the larger old-style cellphones.ItwasthesamekindofsignaljammerErichadusedthatdayontheroof.

“Global-1 isstill searchingforyou,”Kaylasaid.“They’vegot tobe.And thatmeans theyarestillscanningthearea,justwaitingforyoursignaltobeepontotheirscreens.”

“Butwhy?”“They’rethinkingthattheycanuseyoutofindDr.Harriman,”Kaylareplied.“Howdoyouknowthat?”“We don’t know it for sure,” Kayla admitted. “They might have Harriman already. But they

mightnot,andwedon’twanttoriskit.”“Whatdoyouthinktheywanthimfor?”Kayla shrugged and shook her head. “He’s their genius. Maybe he wants out. Maybe he’s

threateningtogopublicandtellallheknowsaboutalltheirdirtydealings.”“Whatdoyouthinkwouldhappenifhedidthat?”Graceasked.Kayla’s facegrewsomber as shehoppeduponto the car ’shoodand sat cross-legged there a

momentbeforeanswering.“Idon’tknow,Grace. It’spossible thatnothingwouldhappen.Global-1already has their man in the White House. Who knows how many leaders they control in othercountries? Ambrose Young is one of our most powerful public figures, and he can’t bring themdown.”

“Sowhydoyoukeepfightingthem?”Again, Kayla took a while before answering, as though she were asking herself the same

questionanddiggingdeepforthetruth.GraceknewKayla’sstory—alltherunning,hiding;alltheliesthathadbeentoldabouther;allthepersonallossshe’dsuffered.Whatcouldpossiblykeephergoing?

“IfightbecauseI’maliveandeverylivingthinglongstobefree,”Kaylasaid,finally.“IfeelasifI’vehadanetthrownovermebyGlobal-1.WealldowhatGlobal-1wantsustodo,livethewaytheysay,believewhattheircommercialsandTVnewswantustobelieve.It’ssetupsothattheycangetricherandgreedierandmorepowerfulbytheday.Andall thewhile theydestroytheplanetweinhabitandmakeourlivessmaller.ButIknowthere’smoremystery,happiness,andmeaninginlifethanwhatthey’reoffering.InmyheartIfeeltheworldcanbebetterthanwhatitis.Weallbelieveit,andEutonahhelpedusseeit.”

“Was that when you studied with her in the AdirondackMountains?” Grace knewKayla andMfumbehadstudiedspiritualityandeventelepathywithEutonah’sgroupbeforeGlobal-1hadraidedthem,jailingEutonah.

Kayla’sfacesoftenedandshesmiledgently.“Eutonahismyhero.WhenIthinkofher,Ibecomesurethereismoretoapersonthanjustbeingaproductbrandedwithabarcode.Iknowitbecauseshe’ssomuchmore.”

“ButGlobal-1issohugeandpowerful,”Gracesaid.“Iknow,”Kaylaagreed,slidingoffthehoodofthecarandseemingtoregainherall-business

attitude.“Sowe’llfightthemlittlepiecebylittlepiece.KatieandMfumbehavetakenthetruckbacktooneofouroutpostsintheGreatBasinDesert.Thecavesthereareperfectbecausenoradarorsatellitesignalcanpenetrate.They’repickingupanewbatchoftattoofakes.”

“Alotofpeopleareinvolvedinthismovement,aren’tthey?”Graceasked.“More andmore every day,” Kayla said. “People are getting fed up. Now let’s see how that

cloakingjacketfitsyou.”Gracepulledonthejacket,dislikingthefeeloftheliningandaslighttightnessattheshoulders.

Sighingwithresignation,shedroppedthejammerintothepocket.IffightingGlobal-1meantwearinga hot, ill-fitting jacket, then that’s how it had to be. Besides, thiswas her best bet for finding herfamilyandstayingoutofGlobal-1’sclutches.

“Lookinggood,Grace!”Allysonwalkedtowardthemfromthebackofthegarage.“Thatjacketmakes you look very anonymous and indistinct. Youmightwant to tie your hair back, too, for atotallynondescripteffect.Postmenaimtoblendinwiththescenery.”

Jackwasbesideherandheheldamanilaenvelope.“Inhereisyourfirstassignment.Itshouldn’tbethatdifficult,butit’sreallyimportant.Wethoughtitwouldbeagoodwaytostartyououtbecausetheguywewantyoutofindisrighthereinthecity.HisnameisHarryClementeandheworksforthepeople who fund the swing-lo production. We’re asking for additional funding to add stealthtechnologytomakeitinvisibletoradarandsatellitetracking.”

“Wealsowanttogetintomassproduction,”Allysonadded.“Wethinkwe’reready.”“Evenafterthelastonefellapart?”Kaylaquestionedskeptically.“Yeah,butnowIknowhowhighitcango—orcan’tgo,”Jacksaid.“Don’tworry.I’lltestthe

next onemyself. I’d like to get out to the desert again and try it unobstructed by buildings.” JacklookedtoKaylaandsmiled.“Rememberwhenwewereoutinthedesert,zippingaroundinthatrattyfirstmodel?”

“Icouldn’tbelieveIwasreallyinaspaceship,”Kaylatoldeveryone.“Itdidn’tseemreal.”“Butnowyou’reusedtoit,aren’tyou?”Allysonsaid.“Iam.It’strue,”Kaylaagreed.JackhandedGracetheenvelopeandshesawtherewasnoaddress.“WheredoIgo?”sheasked.“You’re a Postman now. You’ve got to find him. Sometimes I see him in Katz’s Diner in

downtownHollywood.Startthere.There’safaketattoointhere.Askhimtoputthebarcodecreditsintothebankaccountencodedthere.Seeifhewantsyoutowaitforananswer.”

“IsEricgoingwithme?”“No.He’sonhisownrunthismorning.It’sallyours.”

GracetookthesubwaytowarddowntownLosAngeles,feelingself-consciousinherfoillinedjacket.Everytimeshemovedshewasacutelyawareofthesoftcrinklingofthematerial.Besidesthat,itwasbrutallyhotout;thenewsreportedoveronehundredFahrenheit,andtobeinajacketmadeherfeelconspicuousinadditiontobeingoverheated.Atleastthesubwaywasair-conditioned.

She’d found the address ofKatz’sDiner andwas headed for it. Surely someone therewouldknowofHarryClemente.Theassignmentseemedincrediblysimple,requiringnofree-runningandnotmuchbrainpower,either.Gracewasgladforherfirstassignmenttobeano-brainer.

Katz’sDinerwasonlyhalffullwhenGracesatatthecounterandorderedscrambledeggsandtoast.“DoyouknowamannamedHarryClemente?”sheaskedthewaitress.

Thewaitresssmiledather.“Postman?”sheinquiredinthebarestofwhispers.Grace shook her head in reply. Eric had instructed her never to admit to being a Postman. It

mightbeatrap.BeingaPostmanwasillegal,andrewardswereofferedtoanyonewhoturnedoneintoauthorities.“No.He’smyuncleandIneedtofindhim.”

“Well,yourAuntStephanie justwalkedin,” thewaitresssaid,andfromher ironic tone,Graceknewshe’d failed toconvince thewoman.She tiltedher head toward a tall blondwomanof aboutforty.

“Thanks,”Gracesaid.Normallyshewouldhavepresentedherarmsothewaitresscouldrunherhandheldscanneroveritforpayment.ButsherememberedthatErichadtoldhernottobuyanythingalongtheway.ItwasanotherwayGlobal-1couldfindher.Unfortunatelyshehadn’trememberedthisuntilshewashalfwaythroughhermeal.

Thewaitresslookedatherandthenleanedinclose.“Postmeneatfreehere,”shewhispered.Withagratefulsmileandanodofappreciation,Gracewentacrossthedinerandslippedintothe

boothbesidethewomanidentifiedasAuntStephanie.“Hi.IhaveamessageforHarryClemente,”shesaidtothesurprisedlookingwoman.

“What’sitabout?”AuntStephanieasked,sippinghercoffee.“Private,onlyforHarryClemente.”“I’mhiswife.”Graceshruggedapologetically.Thewomantookapenfromherbagandscribbledanaddressontoanapkin.“Andtellhimto

pickupacartonofeggsonhiswayhometonight,”sheadded,slidingthenapkintoGrace.Gracewas quickly on herway. She arrived at a building that seemed abandoned and double-

checkedtheaddress.Hadthewomanplayedsomekindofjokeonher?Gracewalkedintothealleyandcranedhernecktoseeuptothetop,searchingforsomesignthatthebuildingwasinhabited,buteverywindowwasdark.Reluctantly,shesteppedintotheshadowyfrontlobby.TheaddressindicatedthatHarryClementewas inapartment1L.Therewerenoapartmentsonthe lobbylevel.Shehit theelevatorbuttononlytodiscoverthatthebuttonsweretornout—allbutone.BasementlevelL.

Takingthecardown,Gracerealizedshewassweatingheavilyintheclosedelevatorcarbutwasafraidtoremoveherjacket.Whenthedoorslidopen,Gracefacedaharshlylitroomcontainingonlyamaninadusty-lookingvelvetmaroonarmchair.Hewasveryfatandbalding,andsattherereadingthepaper.

“Hotenoughforyou?”hesaidasGracesteppedoutoftheelevator.“Toohot,”Gracereplied,steppingintotheroom.“Andthiscrazybrightsun,huh?”hecontinued.“What’sthataboutalready?”“Solar flares. I read about it in the newspaper,” Grace offered. “I’m looking for Harry

Clemente.”“Speaking.”“You’reHarryClemente?”Gracechecked.“Who’sasking?”Gracedidn’tknowhowtoanswer.She’dforgottenifEric’sinstructiontoneveradmittobeinga

Postmanappliedtowhenshe’dfoundhersubject.Theman andGrace stared at each other awkwardly. “I have amessage forHarryClemente,”

Graceventured.“CouldIseesomeproofthatyou’rehim?”“Andyouare?”themanpressed.“Afriend—withamessage.”The man seemed amused. He picked up something metal that had been wedged between his

corpulentlegandthesideofthechairandpointeditatGrace.Panicked,Graceturnedbacktowardtheelevator.Itsdoorshadclosedandshesawnobuttons.Themanchortled.“Here’smyproofI’mHarryClemente,”themansaid,holdingthemetalpiece

intheair.Thewhitewallbehindhimslidopen,revealingalargeroomfilledwithdesks.Ateachdesk,peoplecongregated talking in low, seriouswhispers.Someread,otherswrote.Gracenoticed therewerenophonesorcomputers.

“WelcometoDecodeheadquarters,”themansaid,risingfromhischair.“Iknowwhoyouare.We’vebeenwatchingyou.”

GracesatinDecodeheadquarters,waitingforHarryClementetoreturnwitharesponse.Besideherawiry, dark-haired youngman in his twenties lay on the floor poring over a large book ofmaps.Noticing Grace reading over his shoulder, he glanced up and smiled. “Hi, I’m Nate. You’re newhere.”

“I’mGrace.Yes,thisismyfirstday.”Helookedherover.“I’mguessingfromthatjacketthatyou’reaPostman.”“You’renotsupposedtobeabletoguessthat.”“Yougetaneyeforitafterawhile.Thejacketistooconspicuouslynondescript.”“What?”“You’retryingtoohardtoblendin.Nooneisthatbland.”“It’salsoroasting.”“Take it off,” Nate advised. “You’re deep enough underground.” As she removed the jacket,

relievedtobefreeofit,Nate’seyeswenttothesilverlining.“You’reseventeen,”heremarked.“Yeah.Howcouldyoutell?”“You’rechipped.Seventeen-year-olds.It’sthenewestwaveofGlobal-1evil.”“It’shorrible.”Nate’s expression became skeptical. “It’s creepy but we’re all trackable, with or without the

nanochip. Our phones send off signals, all our electronics do. That’s whywework without themdown here, even thoughwe think it’s safe.We’re not one hundred percent sure, sowe don’t takechances.ThesignaljammerswehavearenothingcomparedtothepowerfulonesGlobal-1has.Oursjustmessuptheirsatellitesignalsforafewminutes.”

“Buttheycanfindmeanywhere,”Gracesaid.“Theycanseeusall.Fromwayhighintheairtheycanlocateourwhereaboutsandthenfocus

down small enough to read our bar codes if we’re unlucky enough to have one. Plus, there aresurveillance cameras.We’ve grown so used to them thatwe don’t even notice them anymore.Butthey’rethere.Puttingthatchipinyouguysjusteliminatesalltheguesswork.Theydon’tevenhavetobothertolookforyou.You’rebroadcastingallthetime.You’relikeadoginoneofthoseelectronicfences—stepoutoflineandthey’llzapyou.”

“How long have you worked for Decode?” Grace asked, wanting to change the subject. Shedidn’tlikethetrappedfeelinghiswordswereimparting.

“IwasaDrakianatfirst.GeneDrake,theguywhofirsttriedtoblowthewhistleonthebarcodetattoo,wasmyhouse-mateforawhile.ButIswitchedtoDecode.They’renotasdramatic,butIthinkthey’remoreeffective.”

Gracepointedtothebookofmapsspreadoutinfrontofhim.“Whatareyoudoingthere?”

“EverhearofTheBarCodeProphecy?”Fromthewayheasked,Graceknewhehadnoideaaboutherconnectiontotheprophecy.And

shewasn’tabouttotellhim.“I’veheardofit,yes,”shesaid.“Well, Decode is studying the native American Indian lands.We’re looking especially at the

sacredHopiplaces.WethinkifwecanfindthesecondtabletofTheBarCodeProphecy,itmighthelpusfightGlobal-1.”Nateshiftedhispositionandpushedhishairbackpensively.“Personally,Ithinkit’s got to be underground somewhere. The Hopi had ceremonial dwellings built into the earth.Kivas.”

Grace rememberedEric’s terrifyingclimbdownSpiderRock to theopeningholding the firsthalfoftheprophecy.“Thatmakessense,”sheagreed.

HarryClementecameoutofaroomandapproachedher.“Thebosswantstotalktoyou,”hetoldGrace.

Nate’seyeswidened.“Bigday,Grace.You’reabouttomeetDavidYoung.”“TheheadofDecode?”“Yep.”GracefollowedHarryClementeintoaspare,unadornedoffice.Behindametaldesksatathinly

muscularmaninhisforties,wearingjeansandaplaidshirt.Abristlygrayandwhitebeardcoveredthelowerhalfofhischiseledface.Darkeyessparkledather.“Welcome,Grace,”DavidYoungsaid,standingandextendingahandtoshake.“It’ssogoodtomeetyou.I’mpleasedthatyou’vebecomeaPostman.”

Just six months earlier, Grace recalled, Global-1 had nearly killed David Young with theirnanobottechnology.Shehadreadallabouthowthey’djailedhimandusedthetinyrobotstostimulatehis vagus nerve until it induced thoughts of suicide. Now, though, he struck her as vigorous andbristlingwithenergy,warmandopenandintense.

DavidYoungcamearoundand leanedagainsthisdesk, invitingGrace tositonanearbydeskchair. He handed her back the manila envelope Jack had given her. “You’vemet Jack Kelly?” heinquired.

“Yes,”Graceconfirmed.“Andhispartner,Allyson.”“Geniuses,thebothofthem.MyfatherandIarethrilledtofundthem.Notonlydoweagreethat

magneticrepulsiontechnologywillbethewaytoprovidefreeenergyforallpeople,wedon’twantGlobal-1towindupgettingapartoftheirwork.It’stooimportanttohumanity.”

“Jack andAllysonwould never sell out toGlobal-1,”Grace replied. She hadn’t known themlong,butshefeltcertainthiswastrue.

“Global-1 is tricky,”DavidYoung countered. “They have lots of small subsidiary companiesposingasindependents,buttheyallbelongtoGlobal-1.Theyownwholecountries.”

“Whatcountries?”Graceasked,shocked.“They’resmallcountries…sofar.They’rethinkingbiggerthesedays.”“America?”Graceguessed.“They’realmostthere,”DavidYoungsaidwithanod.“Theyownlotsofourlawmakersalready.

That’swhymyfathercan’tgetanywherewithhisinvestigation.”“Isithopeless?”DavidYoung’sfacegrewserious.“Idon’tknow.Maybe.We’restartingtothinkso.It’swhyThe

BarCodeProphecymightbeourlasthope.That’swhyIwantedtomeetyou.Eutonahfeelssomehowthatyouarethekey.Shetoldmeabouttakingyouandherson,Eric,toSpiderRock.”

“Doyoubelieveinprophecies?”Graceaskedhim.Shestillwasn’tsurethatshedid.“Notnormally,”DavidYoungadmitted.“I’mnotsuperstitious.ButI’vestudiedthis,andsomany

oftheHopiprophecieshavecometopass.IrememberwhenBritishPetroleumdumpedallthatoilintheGulf,killingsomuchwildlife.TheHopipredictedthat.We’rewatchingit—carefully.That’sallIcansay.Andthat’swhywe’vebeenwatchingyou.”

“IstheresomethingI’msupposedtodo?”Graceasked.“Could be,” David Young said. There was something in the way he said it that made Grace

nervous.Itwasasthoughhewastakinghermeasure,decidingifshewasreadytohearwhathehadtosaynext.

“I’veloadedthefakebarcodeinthatenvelopewithagreatdealofmoney.IwantJackKellyandAllysonMinor to set up shop in theGreatBasinDesertwhere he started out, at theDecode cavesthere.Hecanrunthewholeoperationonsolarpower.Heknowshowandthere’snoshortageofsun.IwantyouandErictogostaywithhiminthecaves.”

“Why?”Graceasked.“Eutonah tells me there will be a gathering of the tribes at BigMountain. The tribal elders

believethatthetimehascomeforTheBarCodeProphecytobefulfilled.TheybelievethatsomehowthepresenceoftheBrotherandhislove,theDaughteroftheMasterofDestruction,willdeliverthepeople.”

“Hislove,”Graceechoedsoftly.DavidYoung heard her and smiled gently. “I don’t knowwhatwill happen,Grace.What I’m

askingmighttakealotofcourage.Ican’tbesure.Butinmygut,Ifeelthat’swhereyoushouldbe.It’swhereweallneedyoutobe.”

“Doyou knowwhat’s happened tomy family— the one Iwas raisedwith?”Grace asked. “Idon’twanttogobeforeIfindout.”

“ThePostmandidn’ttellyou?”DavidYoungseemedsurprised.“He wanted to, but the Global-1 police came between us. Is he all right? Eric Chaca is out

lookingforhimnow.”“If youdon’t hear fromEric soon, getword to us.Wehave aPostmanout therewhoknows

wheretheyare,butweusuallyletthePostmenrunthemselves.It’ssaferthatway.Ifthere’snocentralheadquarters,Global-1can’traidit.IgiveyoumypersonalpromisethatIwillkeeptabsonthisandgetwordtoyou.”

DavidYoungseemedlikeamanshecouldtrust.HehadinsistedonstayinginjailuntileverylastresisterpickedupintheD.C.raidofthelastyearhadbeenfreed.

“Allright,”Graceagreed.“Ifyoukeeplookingformyfamily,I’llgo.”DavidYoungextendedhishandtoshakeandGracetookit.“Igiveyoumyword,”hesaid.

WhenGracewasoncemoreoutonthestreet,themanilaenvelopetuckedinthebackwaistbandofherjeansandunderherT-shirt, sheheadedback toward thesubwaystation,completely lost in thought.Whatwasgoing tohappen?She’dbeenonly fouryears oldduring theMayan calendardoomsdayscareof2012.Nothinghadhappened,andpeoplelaughedaboutitnow.ButwasEutonahright?Wasthecreationofthebarcodetattoothethingthathadactuallyhappenedin2012?Haditsetinmotionaseriesofeventsthatwerenowunfolding?

Shieldinghereyes,Gracetriedtolookat theskybuthadtoturnaway.Thebrightyellowwasoverlaidwithahazeofdirtysmog.Shesawthesignforthesubwayjusttwoblocksawayontheothersideandshecutadiagonalacrossthestreet,headingforit.Atleastherfirstmissionhadgonewell.JackandAllysonwouldbepleased tohavesomuchmoneyfor theirswing-loproject.MaybeEricwouldbetherewhenshereturnedtothegarageandwouldhavenewsaboutherfamily.

AsGracecrossed,shenoticedtwouniformedGlobal-1policeofficerswerewalkingdownthe

streettowardher.Whenshereachedtheothersideshewouldwalkrightpastthem.Herheartbeatquickenedand,tobesafe,sheturnedbacktothesideofthestreetshe’djustleft.

Therewassomethingintheirpurposefulstridethathadalarmedher.Withoutwaitingtoreachthecorner,theofficerscrossed,fanningout.Nowonhighalert,GraceturnedbacktowardDecodeheadquarters.TheG-1copsbeganwalking

withaggressivestridesinthesamedirection.Adronehelicopterappearedinthelemonskybetweentwoskyscrapers.Howhad theyfoundher?Grace’sgrowingfearcausedherheart tohammer inherchest.The

pounding reminded her of her circulation. The nanochip had most likely circulated outside thejacket’sprotection.Inmomentsthesignalwouldbeblockedbythejacketoncemore.

Thesignaljammerwasinherpocket,andGraceuseditnow.Butthey’dalreadyestablishedvisualcontact.Itwastoolate.Shot threwwithadrenaline-fueledfear,Gracebrokeintoanall-outrunandtheG-1policedid

thesame.Theywouldsoonoutrunher.Thiswasthetimetouseall thefree-runningskillsErichadtaughther.

Remembering Eric’s advice, she shut down conscious thought and let her body take over.Leaping,she landedcatlikeona railingand thensprang toa lowwindowledge,grippingwithherfingers.

“GraceMorrow! Freeze!” The words boomed from one of the officers on the street below.“Global-1Police.”

WithoutabackwardglanceGracefoundherfootingonawindowledgeandmovedswiftlytotherightuntilshecametoawindowthatwasslightlyopen.Withherfootshelifteditandslippedinside,racingthroughtheapartment,jumpingoverchildrensprawledonthefloorwatchingTV.

Out in the hall, she ran toward the stairs, only to see four G-1 cops running up. Reversingdirections,shesprintedupastaircasetotheroof.

TheG-1dronehelicopterhoveredthereinanticipationofherarrival.Areddotplayedonherchestasthedronesoughtitstarget.Gracelaunchedintoaforwardfliptoeludetheroboticpredatorasred laser light scorched the sideofher shoulder.The flipbroughther to the edgeof thebuilding.Therewasalowerroof,butaleapwasrequired.

ThefourG-1policeracedouttheroofdoorway.Backingupseveralpaces,Gracesprangforward,kickingherarmsandlegstodriveherbody

forward,andlandedonherside,rollingtostanding.Shewasbythedoorofthisrooftopandranforit,butfounditlocked.Lookingovertheside,shefoundafireescapethatshewasabletodroptoandscrambledown.Shemadeittothealleyandsawnosignofherpursuers.

But theywould soonbeuponher.Theyprobablyknewwhere shewas already.Grace spiedabasement window and, seizing a broken brick in the alley, smashed it so she could reach in andunlock it. Maneuvering carefully through the broken glass, she scraped her arm anyway as sheslipped into thebasement, landingon topof a closedwashingmachine.Her coatwas torn and theblood ran in a streamdownher arm.Wiping the blood, she thought of the nanobots in it sendingsignalsintospaceevenastheyescapedherbody.

Thebladesofthedronehelicopterflappedoverhead.Gracechecked that theenvelope fromDavidYoungwas still tucked into thewaistbandofher

jeansandwasrelievedtofinditthere.OnthefarwallofthelargebasementweretwodoorsandGraceheadedforthem.Oneledtoa

staircasegoingup.Theotherledintoacool,windowlessroomcontainingthebuilding’splumbingandpiledwithdirt.Therewasnosensegoingupagain.They’donlygrabher.

Locking thebasementdoor leading to thestaircase,Gracecrawled into thedirt room.Pulling

herkneestoherchest,shesatandwaiteduntilthesoundofthewhirringchopperbladesreceded,allthewhileknowingthatassoonasshewentoutagain,theymightreturn.

Grace’sstomachrumbledwithhungerasshepushedopenthedoorofthedirtroomandre-enteredthedarkbasement.Shecouldn’tstaythereallnight.She’dsimplyhavetotrytofindherwaybacktothegarage.Hopefullytheblacknessofnightwouldhelpandthejammerwouldwork.Shehadtopraythatthenanochipinherbloodwouldn’tbeginbroadcastingasignalthemomentsheemergedfromunderground.

Thebuildingshewasinseemedquietasshestoleupthedimlyletstaircasetothefirstfloor.Amancameintothelobby,holdinghisjacketoverhisshoulder,sweatingfromtheheathe’djustleftbehindinthestreet.“Wow,it’shotout!”hesaidtoherashepunchedanumberintohiscellphone.

“Sureis,”Gracerepliedcasually.Heeyedthecutonherarm.“Thatlookslikeithurts,”heremarked.“Bettercleanitup.”“Iwill,”Graceagreed,headingforthefrontdoor.Themansuddenlycursedandbangedhiscellphonewithhisotherhand.Gracewhirledtoward

himtoseewhattheproblemcouldbe.“Ihaven’tbeenabletogetacallthroughallday,”heexplainedangrily.“Thesesolarflaresarejammingeverything.”

Not everything, Grace thought as she pushed the door open and left the building. ApparentlyGlobal-1hadstrongerequipmentthantheaverageperson.

Outside theskyglowedeerily,almostas thoughthesunwerestillmaking itswaythroughtheblacknessofnight.Theheatwasnobetterthanithadbeenduringtheday.Checkingthatshestillhadthemanila envelope,Gracemadeherwaydown the front stepsonto the street, her eyesdarting ineverydirection,alertforanysignshewasbeingtrailed.

“Grace,”afemalevoicehissed.Startled,Graceturned.Kayla’sbackwastothesidewallofanalley.Reachingout,shesnapped

Graceintothealleybesideher.“ThankGod,Ifoundyou.Weallcameoutlookingforyouassoonaswesawthecommotion.Didtheycomeforyou?”

Gracenodded.“Itwasclose,”shereported.“I’llbet.”Inaquickjog,Kaylaheadeddownthealley.“Comeon.We’reallleaving.”Gracefollowedclosebehind.“Wherearewegoing?”“Tothedesert.Hurry.Wewerejustwaitingonyou.We’realreadywaybehindschedule.”

PasadenaSun August8,2026—BedfordHills,NewYork

CHEROKEEBARCODEDISSIDENTRELEASEDFROMJAIL.CALLSFORSUMMITOFNATIVEAMERICANSHAMANS

ANDCHIEFTAINS

In her first press conference upon being released from the all-women Bedford HillsCorrectionalFacility inBedfordHills,NewYork, theCherokeeMedicineWomanandshaman

knownonlyasEutonahthankedformerSenatorAmbroseYoung,whohadworkedvigilantlyforherfreedom.“Hehasbecomeagreatfriendtoourcause,”shetoldthepressandfollowerswhohadassembledtohearher.

HersecondstatementcalledforNativeAmericanleaderstosenddelegationstoasummittobeheldonHopiandNavajolandsnearSedona,Arizona.“Thistoo-brightsunmeansthetimeisuponus,”shesaidenigmatically.Whenquestionedonthemeaningofherwords,Eutonahsaidonly, “The people have long awaited the time that all the prophecies have foretold since thebeginningof thisworld.Wemustbereadytoengageourhearts,minds,andspirits tofacetheinevitable changes.”When pressed to saywhat these “changes”might be, Eutonah refused toelaborate,butadded,“Companieshavebeenstrip-miningthis landforalmostahundredyears.Firstitwascoalandminerals,thenoil.Mostrecentlyit’stheuranium.Andlastyeartheyfoundlithiumdepositsoutthere.”

Whenitwaspointedoutthatnativepeopleshaveallowedthisbysellingminingrights,sheanswered,“BackinthelastcenturytheNavajoweresoimpoverishedthattheysoldsomeofthemining rights.That’s true,but thecompany theysold the rights tomined toanextent thatwasnever imagined by the native Indians. Back in 2014, Global-1 bought up every smallminingcompanywith a contract out there; now they’re spreading intoHopi territory. In the last fiveyears, Global-1 has also spread into Utah, onto the lands of the Ute, Shoshone, and Paiutenations.It’scompletelydestroyingtheland.”

When asked to speak to the feelings of the tribal nations on this issue, Eutonah told theassembled crowd, “The native people are protesting like crazy.ATribalCouncil has gone toD.C.,believingthattheentirebalanceoftheuniversehasbeenupsetbecauseall thesemineralsarebeingpulledoutoftheground.Themembersofthecouncilsaythatbytakingthemineralsoutof theearth there, theverybio-electricbalanceof theuniversehasbeen thrownoff-kilter.Theyarenotspeakinginthemysticalabstracthere.Theyaretalkingaboutscience:radioactivity,magnetism,andthetidalandgravitationalbalancethattheheavenlybodiesmaintaininrelationtoeachother.”

When asked to comment,PresidentLoudonWaters claimed that theCherokee leaderwasmerelytryingtofrightenpeopleinordertokeephermovementvital.“Everyproblemwiththebarcodetattoohasbeenironedout.Thiswomannolongerhasareasontoexist.She’ssimplylooking to extend her fame and influence in a world where her movement has becomeirrelevant.”

Inresponse,Eutonahstated,“LoudonWatersdoesnotspeakforthepeople,notmypeopleor thoseofanyother raceornationality.Hespeaksonlyfor thegreedofhisowngroup.Thepeopleofthisplanetneedtoknowthatthelastdaysofprophecyareuponus.Thetimeisnow.”

Gracesteppedouttothemouthofthecave,carefultostaybackinitsshade.TheDecodestationgaveshelter not only from the blasting sun but also blocked the signal the nanochip in her bloodwerebouncingontosatellitesinthesky—if theywereindeedgettingthroughthepowerfulsolarflares.Shesurveyedtheexpanseofdesertinfrontofher.Itseemedtoherthatoffinthedistanceshecouldseesomethingthatshimmeredandreflectedthesun.Turning,shesawKaylacomealongsideher.

“Istherewateroutthere?”Graceasked,pointing.“It’s amirage,” Kayla replied, shielding her eyes as she studied the horizon. “It’s an optical

illusion,atrickoftheheatandthelight.ButIalwaysliketothinkit’stheghostofthesea.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Kayla turnedtoGraceandsmiledsoftly.“Millionsofyearsagotherewasaseawaythatcame

throughhere,splittingthecontinent.Asthewatersreceded,theyleftthesedeserts.Therearefossilsofshellsallovertheplaceouthere.I’veseenthemmyself.”

ThattheEarthwassoveryoldwassomethingGracefoundalmostimpossibletoimagine.Shetriedtothinkofanoceaninthespotshewaslookingat.Withouttoomucheffortshecouldimagineit.Thevastnessofthedesertseemedmadetoaccommodateanocean.

“Itdoeslooklikeanoceanoutthere.Iseeit,too,”Kaylasaid.Graceturnedtohersharply,surprised.Kaylalaughed,amusedbyGrace’sshockedexpression.“Icanseewhatyou’rethinkingbecause

I’matelepath,”Kaylaexplained.“Youknewthat,didn’tyou?”GracerememberedseeingKaylaandMfumbecommunicatingmindtomindbackinthegarage.

“Canyouseeintoanyone’smind?”Graceasked.“Mostofthetime,”Kaylareplied.“Justlikeyou,Iimaginetheoceanouthere.It’savisionIhave

allthetime.”“Butaren’tyourvisionsofthefuture?”Graceinquired.“Thatwouldbeavisionofthepast.”“Iknow.Idon’tunderstandit.”Eric came out from the cave and stood between Kayla and Grace. He had arrived the night

before,afterGracewasalreadyasleep.Heputhishandonhershoulder.“We’vefoundyourfamily,”hesaid.Closinghereyes,Gracesighedwithreliefandhappiness.ThepleasedlookonEric’sfacetold

hertheywereallright,thatthiswasn’tbadnews.“Wherearethey?”sheaskedhim.“DecodeheadquartersintheAdirondacks.”“Butwhy…how…whataretheydoingthere?”Gracestammered,confused.Dr.Harrimanemergedfromthecave.“Icananswerthat.”

“Dr.Harriman!”Gracecried.“Whathappenedtoyou?”“Afterfightingmywaydownoutofthetreetops,doyoumean?”heasked.“Afterthatordeal,I

contactedyourfather—Imeanthefatherwhoraisedyou,ofcourse.”“Youknowmyfather,then.”“Growingup,hewasmybestfriend.WhoelsewouldItrustwithmyonlychild?Ineverdoubted

hewouldloveyouashisown.”“Howdidyoucontacthim?”“ItwasIwhotippedyourfamilytofleetotheAdirondacks.IknewGlobal-1wascomingtopick

themup.I thoughtyouwouldmakeithomesoonerandthatGlobal-1wouldn’tarriveuntil later—that therewouldbetimeforallofyoutoescapetogether.ButIwaswrong.SoI toldthemIwouldhaveDecodecomepickupGraceandthattheyshouldgoahead.”

“YouworkwithDecode?”Ericasked,aghastatthenews.“OnceIsawhowGlobal-1wasusingmywork,Iwantednopartofit.WhenIsawhowtheywere

treatingKathrynReed,Grace’sbiologicalmother,Iwasdoublyhorrified.”“Wait a minute,” Kayla interrupted. “My grandmother was named Kathryn Reed. She’s my

adoptive father ’s mother, but she’s actually my biological mother because her eggs were used toconceivemeandtheotherfiveclones.”

“That’s right,”Dr.Harrimansaid.“I lovedKathrynandyou,Grace,areourchild.Butwhen Ilearned that theywanted touseyour embryo for experiments—as theydidonKayla—weweredeterminednottoletithappen.”

“Howdidyoustopthem?”Kaylaasked.“Your mother— the one who adopted you, Grace— was pregnant but had just suffered a

miscarriage.IpersuadedanobstetricianfriendofminetosecretlyremovetheembryofromKathrynandimplantitinyourmother.YourmothercarriedyoutoterminherbellywhilewetoldGlobal-1thatKathrynhadmiscarried.”

“Thenwhyhavetheybeenwatchingme?”Graceasked.“Theyneverreallybelievedit,”Dr.Harrimanadmitted.“That’swhytheywerehovering,waiting

foryoutobetattooedsotheycouldmatchourDNAconclusively.”“Wait!Wait!”Kayla cried, holding up her hands to slow the flow of his narrative. “Are you

sayingthatGraceandIaresisters?”“Halfsisters,”Dr.Harrimansaid.“Samemother,differentfather.”Grace and Kayla studied each other. Therewere some similarities that Grace could see. She

certainlylookedmorelikeKaylathanshedidKim.“Whatis theirproblemwithyou,Dr.Harriman?”Ericasked.“Theythinkyou’reoneofthem,

don’tthey?”“They’re onto me. They have been ever since we claimed Grace was never born. But they

couldn’tdoanythingbecauseIstillknewthingsnooneelseknew.AndIwashelpingthem,inwaysthatIhadto.Nowtheywantmylatestexperiment,butIrefusetogiveittothem,orevenadmititexistsforthatmatter.”

“Whatisit?”Kaylaasked.“It’sasecret,”Dr.Harrimanreplied,turningbackintothecave.“It’sbetterthatyoudon’tknow.”

Katie’stractortrailerpulledpastthefrontofthecave.GracefollowedEric,Kayla,andseveralothermembersofDecodewhowerestaying in thecaveas they ranout tomeet it.Theback truckdoorsopenedandJackhandedfive-gallonjugsofwatertothewaitinghandsofthosebelow.

Mfumbe and Katie descended from the cab and walked toward the back. “Mission

accomplished,”MfumbeannouncedasheembracedKaylahappily.“Wateranda fresh loadof faketattoosfromthetownofBaker.”

Allyson stood beside Jack inside the truck, which was stacked full of boxes. “And all theequipmentweneedtostartproducingthefirstevermagneticrepulsion-fueledflyingmachines,”sheannounced,gesturingtriumphantlytowardtheboxes.

“Swinglow,sweetchariot,comin’fortocarrymehome!”Jacksangouttheoldgospeltuneforwhichhe’dnamedhisinvention.Ashesang,hebeganhandingdowntheboxes.

“Wheredoyouwantustoputthese,Jack?”Ericasked.“Justinsidethecave,”Jackreplied.“I’mgoingtousetheswing-lotoflythematerialsuptoone

ofthesetabletopmesasandsetupshopthere.Wecanflyfrommesatoptomesatopwithouthavingtolandonthegroundbelow.IwanttoseeifIcanflyhigherifIstarthigher.”

“Betterpackachute,”Ericwarned,grinningatGrace.“Everyswing-lowillcomeequippedwithtwoparachutes,”AllysonsaidasshehandedGracea

box.“Youcancountonthat.”GracejoinedEricastheycarriedtheirboxesintothecave.“Haveyouheardfromyourmother

sinceshegotoutofjail?”sheaskedhim.Ericnoddedashesethisboxdown.“Iwasjustgoingto talk toyouabout that,”hesaid.“She

wantsustomeetherintheoldHopivillageofWalpi,onthefirstmesaoftheHopireservation.Wecantakeoneofthemotorcyclesthere.”

“Whendoesshewantusthere?”“Tomorrowatsunrise.”“Doyouknowwhy?”“Ithastodowiththeprophecy,”Erictoldher.Gracewalkedclosertotheopeningofthecave.

Thesunbeatonherandthethoughtofputtingonthatfoil-linedjacketwasunbearable.“Ican’tgo,Eric.Ican’twearthatjacketinthisheat,andwithoutit,they’llcomeforme.”

“PerhapsIcanhelp,”saidDr.Harriman,comingtojointhemfromthebackofthecave.Hehelda device resembling a remote control. “It’sGlobal-1’smost powerful signal jammer.Nothing lesswilltotallyblockthesignalthatiscomingfromyourbloodstream.”

“Icanuseit?”Graceaskedhopefully.Dr.Harrimanhandedittoher.“Yes,butbewarnedthatyouwillblockeverysignalinyourarea.

Ifyouneedmedicalemergencyassistance,noonewillbeabletocallforit.Policewon’tbeabletocommunicate.Youwillevenknockoutphonesinthearea.Soturnitoffwheneveryou’resomewheresafe.”

“Isthisthetechnologyyou’vebeenworkingon?”Ericasked.“I’vedeconstructedhowthisworks,”Dr.Harrimansaid,“butGlobal-1’ssatellitedivisionbuilt

it.WhatI’mworkingonismuchmorecomplexthanasignaljammer.”“Can’tyoutellus?”Graceurgedhim.“It’snotahundredpercentperfected,”Dr.Harrimanrevealed.“WhydoesGlobal-1wantitsobadly?”Ericquestioned.“ItwillbreaktheirholdonthepeopleoftheEarth,”Dr.Harrimansaid,hisblueeyesdarkening

withemotion.“Itwillchangeeverything.”Despitetheheat,icyfearranupGrace’sspine.ThetimeofTheBarCodeProphecyseemedtobe

gettingcloser.Whatwoulditmeanforher,forallofthem?Lookingoutofthecave,Gracesawthattheblazingyellowskyseemedevenbrighterthanithad

thedaybefore.Whatwasthisstrangelight?Whatdiditmean?

TogettoHopiterritory,EricandGracehadtofirstdrivethroughNavajolands.AstheyapproachedMonumentValleyonHighway163,Gracewasoverwhelmedbythebreathtakinglandscape.Thered-brownearthtonesofimmenserectangularbuttesandothertoweringrockformationssatagainstthesoaringblueexpanseofsky.Itwasthemostawe-inspiringlocationshe’deverseen.Andnowthatsheknewherfamilywassafe,sheallowedherselftoactuallyenjoyit.

Eric leaned back and shouted to be heard from beneath his helmet and over the roar of themotorcycleengine.“Amazing,huh?”

“Amazing,” sheechoed, thinking that theworddidn’t seem tohalf capture themajestic formsanddeepcolorssurroundingher.Forthefirsttimeever,Graceunderstoodwhatmightbemeantbythetermsacredlands.Theserocksandlandsemanatedasolemnitythatwasbeyonddescription.

Severalhourslater,Ericpulledoffthehighway.“Youmustneedsomewaterandlunchbynow,”heguessed,takingoffhishelmetandrufflinghishair.

“Lookatthis,”Gracesaid,turninginaslowcircletotakeitallin.“Ineverimaginedanythingcouldbethisoverpowering.IfeellikeI’monadifferentplanet.”

“Iknow.”Theysatcross-leggedeatingthebreadandfruitthey’dpacked,sippingfromtheirwaterbottles.

Grace tugged on the brim of the cap she’d brought, glad to have it to protect her face from theblisteringsun.TheheatwavesliftingupfromthegroundremindedGraceofherconversationwithKayla, about how a seaway had once flowed over this desert. She understoodKayla’s idea that itsremainscouldbefoundinthisliquiddesertmirage.

As she gazed into thewaves of heat coming off the highway,Grace realized that the groundbeneathherwasshaking.Anearthquake?

Ericstood,lettinghislunchtumblefromhislap.Gracegotupbesidehimandhewrappedhisarmaroundherprotectively.Gracelookedtohim.“Whatisit?”

Respondingwithapuzzledshakeofhishead,Ericsnappedupthemotorcyclehelmetsthey’dleftontheground.Theyheadedforthebike,butbeforetheyreachedit,theywerehitwithathunderingwind.Dust and rocks spattered them. Something huge but invisiblewas thundering by. “Whatwasthat?!”Gracecried,oncewhateverhadpassedwasfarenoughawaytomakehearingpossible.

Ericbrushedgravelandreddirtfromherbackandsleeves.“Isyoursignaljammeron?”Grace’s hand flew to her mouth. “I don’t know. I shut it off when we had breakfast in the

undergroundparkinggarageunderthatmall.Ican’trememberifIturneditbackon.”Fishingitfromherbackpackshediscovereditwasoff.“Howdidyouknowitwasn’ton?”

“Iwasjustguessing.Butsomethinggiganticjustpassedus.Andifitwasusingstealth-cloakingtechnology,thejammershouldhavedisruptedit.That’swhyIaskedifitwasoff.”

Graceclickedthejammerbackon.“Allthistimetheycouldhavebeentrackingme,”shesaid.“Iwonderwhytheyhaven’t.”

PasadenaSun August12,2026

SolarFlaresDisruptCommunicationsBetweenSpaceStations

NASAhasreportedthatitsformerlymannedspacestationhasbeencompletelyevacuatedofbothitsU.S.andRussianstaff.ThelastpersonnelfromthespacestationsrunbyChinaandPakistanboardedspaceshuttlestoday.Global-1Stationistheonlyonethathasnotyetbeenevacuated.

“These precautions have been undertaken as Meteor 1 quickly approaches Earth,” GusHardy,aNASArepresentative,statedatapressconferenceyesterday.“Althoughitstrajectoryisstillcalculated tobypassEarth, thespacestations themselvesareconsidered tobeat risk.Thisrisk has been amplified by the fact that unusual solar activity has disrupted communicationsignals both here onEarth and in space. “Drone technology is especially in jeopardy since itdependsontransmittedsignaldevices,”Hardywentontosay.“Disruptionofthesesignalsonthescalethatwearecurrentlyexperiencingcouldprovedisastrous.”

The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) warns that citizens might also beexperiencing difficulty with smart phones, e-mail, and other electronic devices disrupted bysolar flares. “Be prepared for static on the line and dropped calls to a greater degree thannormal,”BethMcGhee,anFCCspokesperson,stated.“Wehaveevenseendisruptionintheuseofelectronicpassesattollbooths.”

Neitherspokespersonwaswillingtocommentonhowlongthisdisruptiveactivityislikelytolast.

EricdrovehismotorcycleuptheslopedroadleadingintotheabandonedcityofWalpi,atopthefirstmesa in Hopi territory. Seated behind him, Grace squinted into the glare of first morning sunbouncingofftheflatrooflinesofthesquare,ancientadobehomesstackedoneupontheotherinthreetiers.

Eutonahwasalreadythere,standingontheflatstonethatcreatedasortofcourtyardinfrontofthe tiered homes.With herwas aNativeAmerican in a traditional feather headdress.His skinwastannedanddeeplylinedbuthisposturewasyouthfullyerect.

Stoppingthemotorcycleinfrontofthem,Ericlockeditintoitsstandandwenttoembracethemanandthenhismother.“Grace,thisismyuncleRussell,whoraisedme,”Ericintroducedtheman.“UncleRuss,thisismyverygoodfriend,GraceMorrow.”

Grace extended her hand and Uncle Russell clasped it in his two strong, rough palms. “TheDaughter,”hesaid,turningherwristsothatherbarcodetattoowasrevealed.“Thelinesyourfatherhascarvedinyourarmwillpulldownthesky.”Hisvoicewaslevel,thoughtful.Gracedidn’tperceiveanyjudgmentorblameinit,onlyastatementoffact.

Hiswordschilledher.Pulldownthesky?Whatdidthatmean?“Wherearetheothers?”EricaskedEutonah.“TheyaregatheringatCanyondeChelly.Wewilljointhemlater,butIhavehadavision.Chief

RussistheonlyoneI’vetoldofit,andhehasdreamedsimilarthings.”“Theknowingnesshascomeinadream,”ChiefRussellstated,“justasitwasforetold.”“Whathaveyouseen?”Ericasked.“Hereiswherewewillfindthesecondpartoftheprophecy,”Eutonahtoldthem.Shebeckoned

for themtofollowherbacktowardthestackedcubedvillage.Thetoo-brightsunmadethemottledadobe walls glow with an iridescent yellow. Beads of sweat were already forming on Grace’sforeheadandupperlip.

They followed Eutonah into the shade of an adobe building on the first level. The shadowy,emptyspacewaslowbutexpansive,seeminglargerthananordinaryhome.Eutonahledthemdownanarrowladderintoalowertier.Shedidn’tspeakuntiltheyhadallcomedowntheladder.“Thisisakiva,” she explained, “a sacred underground place of worship. It is well-known that this is here.”Again,shebeckonedforthemtofollowher,leadingthemtoastonebenchatthefarendofthekiva.Kneeling,shethrewallherweightintopushingthebench.EricandGracedroppeddownbesideher,lendingtheirhelp.

Grace was sweating with the effort before she felt the stone budge. Encouraged by themovement,thethreeofthemexertedalltheirstrength,forcingthestonebenchtomovenearlythreefeet. Eutonah rocked back on her heels and gave a cry of elation. “It is exactlywhat I saw inmy

vision!”Gettingonto her belly,Gracepeered into the darkness of the openingbelow the stonebench.

Ericjoinedher,flashingapenlightintothevast,blackhole.“Themesaishollow,”Ericconcluded.Grace looked up to Eutonah. “Are you saying the rest of The Bar Code Prophecy is down

there?”Eutonah pointed toward a pile of climbing ropes and equipment in the kiva. “I brought these

downearlier.Therearearopeandahalterforeachofyou,”shesaid.GracestaredatEutonah,speechless.“You’rekidding,right?”Ericsaid.“I’veneverbeenmoreserious,”Eutonahreplied.“Youruncleagreeswithme.Therestof the

prophecyisdownthere.”“YouaretheBrother.Iknowbecauseinmydreamvisionitwasyouwhoheldthemissingpiece

ofthetablet,”ChiefRusselladded.“InyourvisionwasIaliveordead?”Ericasked,hisjokingmanneronlybarelydisguisinghis

fear.“Icouldnottell,”ChiefRusselladmittedinamatter-of-facttone.“AndifIdon’tfindanything,doesitmeanI’mnottheBrother?”Ericasked,gettingtohisfeet.“Yes,”ChiefRussellreplied.“Okaythen,”Ericsaid,headingforthepileofclimbinggear.“Let’sgetthisoverwith.Frankly,

it’ssodarkdowntherethatIdon’tthinkI’llfindathing.AndIwouldn’tmindnotbeingtheBrother.It’smoreresponsibilitythanI’mreallyinthemoodforrightnow.”

“Thisisnothingtojokeabout,son,”Eutonahscolded.“Who’sjoking?”Ericaskedashepulledonaclimbinghalter.Astheywentbackandforth,Gracesilentlygotintoherownhalter.Erichadspentenoughtime

watchingherback—nowitwastimeforhertoreturnthefavor.“Whoa, Grace,” Eric said when he finally saw her. “You’re not coming. It is way too

dangerous.”“Therearetwohaltershere,”Graceargued,lookingtoEutonahforsupport.“Youmeantmeto

godownthere,too,didn’tyou,Eutonah?”“ItisforetoldthattheDaughterandtheBrothermustworkinaccord,”Eutonahsaid.“Mom!”Ericprotested.“Wehavenoideawhat’sdownthere.Thewallscouldbecrumbling.We

don’tevenknowhowdeepitisorwherethistabletcouldbe.”“YouneedGrace,”Eutonahinsisted.“Icandoit,”GracesaidtoEric.“YouyourselftoldmeIwasoneofthebestclimbersyou’dever

met.”Ericgavein.“Allright.Let’sdoit.”Grace looked to Eutonah for confirmation and Eutonah gave it with a nod. Clicking off her

signal jammer—therewouldbenoneedfor itasshedescendeddeepintothisrock—Gracewassweptwiththefeelingthatwhatshewasabouttodowassomehowthemostimportantthingshehadeverattemptedinherlife.

Grace hung inmidair froma climbing rope tied to a pillar in the kiva.Aroundherwas completeblackness.

“Grace!”“Whereareyou,Eric?”Afloodlightsnappedonfromtheopeningabove,makingGraceblinkandturnfromthesudden

light.Erichungjustfeetaway.Instinctivelytheyreachedforeachother,theirfingersintertwining.“Are you all right?” Eutonah shouted as shemoved the light’s beam around, revealing rock

wallsintheimmenseopening.Itwascomfortingtobeabletoseesomethinginthisworldofinfinitequietandtotaldarkness.Theyhadcomewithflashlightsclippedtotheirharnesses,butEutonah’slightwasbrighterandcastabroaderbeam.

Graceinhaleddeeplytocalmhernerves.Theairwascoolandhelpedhertofocus.Therewasanarrow ledge running along the surface of the closest section of the rockwall.With a tap to hisshoulder,shepointeditouttoEric.

“Overthere!”Eutonahshouteddown.“There’sanopeningintherock.Isawsomethinglikeitinmyvision.Trytogettoit.”

Stillholdinghands,EricandGracerockedtheirbodiesbackandforthuntiltheywereswingingwide.Soontheywerebouncingontotheedgeoftheridgebutunabletograbhold.Separating,theyswung— kicking off and swinging back — slowing at each interval until the movement was acontrolledbounce.Finally,Gracespiedsomejuttingrockandreachedforitwithtwohands,grippinguntil she could pull her entire weight onto the ledge. Eric did the same, landing about three feetfarther away.With her face turned to the side, Grace inched toward the opening in thewall. Ericquicklycaughtuptoherandwasrightbehind.

AsGracewasabouttoenter,shefeltatugatherwaistandwasunabletogofarther.“Youdon’thaveanymoreline,”Erictoldher.“Meneither.Wehavetounhook.”

GracepeeredatthecarabinertetheringhertoherclimbinglineandthentoEric.Thislinewasallthatconnectedhertotheworldabove.

“It’sokay,”Ericassuredher,holdingherline.“We’llkeepthelines.”Reluctant but knowing there was no choice, Grace unclipped. Eric still held her line as he

unhookedhisown.Clippingthetwolinestogether,heloopedthemaroundanout-croppingofrock.“They’llbe therewhenwecomeout,”hepromised.Then, lookingup,heshouted toEutonah,

“Mom!Keepasmuchlightonthisopeningasyoucan.”Graceledthewayastheymadetheirwayintotheopening.Gracecouldstandwithonlyinches

ofroomaboveherhead.Ericneededtostoop.Hetookouthislightandsweptitaroundthecavelikeopening.

Gracegaspedatwhathislightrevealed.Sleepingbatsclungtothewalls.Thelightmadeseveralofthemstir,forcingGracetofightdownpanic.Whatiftheyallawokeatonceandbeganswarmingthecave?

Ericshonethebeamonthefloorandputhisfingertohislip.Withhislightstilldown,hemovedstealthilyaroundthecave,searchingforanykindofstonetablet.Gracemovedbesidehim,scanningtherockfloor,tryingtoblockouttheoccasionalchitterofabattheyhadhalfroused.

Therewasnothingthere.Theywouldhavetocontinuesearchingelsewhere.Gracedidnotrelishtheprospectofgoinganyfartherintothisfrighteningblackspace.

“Let’sgetoutofhere,”shewhispered.“Okay,”heagreed.“Ijustwanttolookatthismarkhereonthewall.”Cuppingthelightfromhis

flashlighttoavoiddisturbingthesleepingbats,Ericheldittothebackofthecavewall.“It’sacircle,”heobserved,steppingclosertoit.“Sopeopledidcome—”

Ericsuddenlytotteredbackwardasthegroundunderhisfeetgaveway.Gracegrabbedhisarmtokeephimfromfallingover,buthisweightonlypulledherforward.Inthenextsecond,theywerebothfallingthroughdarkness.

“Grace,areyouallright?”

Liftingher arms,Graceprobed the completedarkness forEric and foundhis face. “Mykneereallyhurts,”shereplied,wincing.“Whataboutyou?”

He flicked on his flashlight, revealing a lower section of the cave. The floor they had fallenthroughwasaboutfifteenfeetabovethem.Abovethemthebatswereswirlingfrantically,distressedbythesoundofthecrash,squeakingandflappingtheirwings.

“I’mokay,”hesaid.“Ihitmyheadbutit’snotbleeding.”Ericswunghislightbeamaroundthespace.Clayplates,jugs,andurns—somebroken,others

intact—werestrewnacrosstheearthenfloor.Gracesawwhereherflashlighthadrolledandcrawledtoit.AddingherlighttoEric’s,shesawapictographonthewall.

“Eric,look,”shesaid.“It’slikesomekindoftimeline,”Ericobservedastheystoodstudyingit.Alargestickfigureof

a man stood to the left. At his feet was a horizontal line with various markings on it — smalldrawings that seemed to indicate various events. The last one showed a boat with squiggly blackmarkspouringdownward.“ThiscouldbetheBritishPetroleumoilspillbackin2010,”Ericsaid.

“It keeps going, though,”Grace observed, sweeping her light to the right. Therewas a thickblack vertical line crossing the horizontal timeline and jagged lines emanating from the centercrossingmarks.Onelinereachedallthewaytoacircleringedwithacoronaoffire.

“Iwonder if that representsBigMountain at the sacredFourCorners,”Eric said, shininghislight on it. He turned to Grace. “The Four Corners is where Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, andColoradomeet.Mypeopleconsideritaspotofveryhighenergy,themostsacredplace.”

“Butthat’swherethey’remining,”Gracesaid,recallingthelineofGlobal-1miningtrucks.“Let’skeeplookingfortheotherpieceofthetablet,”Ericsuggested,movinghislightfromthe

wallandsurveyingtherestofthespacewithitslight.Gracecrouched low to thegroundand tried toget a closer lookat thedishware there. Itwas

white and had various figures of strange creatures etched into it. Eric joined her, inspecting theengravingsontheclay.“Iwishweknewwhatthisallmeans,”hesaid,pickingupthebrokenhalfofadish.

Grace shinedher flashlight inhisdirection to illuminatehimashe spokeand shenoticed thepiece he held. “Look at the inscription on that pottery you’re holding,” she said, shining her light

directlyonit.“It’sasmallversionofthepictureonthewallbutitgoesonevenlonger.”Ericcheckedthepictographinhishand.“You’reright.”Theylookedateachotherexcitedly.“Idon’tthinkthisisaplate,either,”Ericadded,turningit.

“It’scompletelyflat.”“Andbrokenatthetop,”Graceadded.“Doyouthinkitcouldbetheotherhalfoftheprophecy?”Ericstood,stillinspectingthebrokenpottery.“WhatIthinkisthatweshouldgetthisbacktomy

unclerightaway.”“Howarewegoingtogetoutofhere?”Graceasked.Thecavewallcurveduptotheceiling,and

theopeningtheyhadmadewhentheycrashedthroughwasatthecenter.“Evenyoucan’tclimbupsidedown.”

“Get on my shoulders,” Eric suggested, crouching. But when Eric was standing, clutchingGrace’sankles,shestillcouldonlytouchthetopwiththetipsofherfingers.Herattempttojumpupsentthembothcrashingtothegroundastheancientceilingcrumbledunderhergrasp.

Abatflewdownandswirledaroundtheroom,makingGracecoverherhead.Andthensuddenlyitwasgone.“Itdidn’tflybackup,”GracesaidtoEric.“Iwaswatchingtheopening.”

Three more bats descended and disappeared the same way. The next time it happened, Erictrainedhislightonthem,followingtheirexitpath.“Comeon,”hesaid.“Theysensesomewayout.”

Atthefarendofthespace,theyfoundanopeningjustlargeenoughtofitinto.Graceswallowedhardasnervesthreatenedher.Wheredidit lead?Wouldtheygetstuck?Butthensherealized:Theydidn’t really have any other option.With a new-found determination, she pushed herself into theopening.Ericfollowed.

Theycrawledthroughcompletedarkness.Occasionallyabatwhizzedpastthem,makingGraceflattentoletitgoby.Inaboutfifteenminutes,Graceheardasoundaheadofthem,butcouldn’ttellwhatitwas.Itmightberushingwater,butitseemedlouderthanthat.Itencouragedherthattheywerecomingclosetosomethingattheotherend.“Ithinkwe’realmostthere,”Ericcalledaheadtoher.

Thetunnelletoutinalargecavernwithstalactitesandstalagmitesthatmetinthemiddletoformcolumns.Morebats roosted in theceilingandsidewalls,whilesomeflewinfromotheropenings.EricandGracefollowedthesoundsinadownwardslopeuntiltheyweresloshingthroughknee-deepwaterthatgraduallygrewmoreandmoreshallow.

Gracesquintedintoashardoflight.Reachingout,Erictookherhandastheywalkedtowardtheopeningofthecave,thesunlightgrowingevermoreblinding.Slowlytheireyesadjusted.

Therewasnothingthere.Andyetsomethingwasmakingthesoundsofmotorsandengines.Therewasatremendousgust

ofwind.Allatonce,asifoutofnowhere,thecloakofinvisibilitywaslifted.Stretching for as far as Grace could see, Global-1 trucks and machinery gouged the land,

clankingastheydug.Blackenedwaterrandownhighsluicescontinuingalongmilesofabove-groundpipe. High in the air, Global-1 drone helicopters hovered, their whirling blades glinting in thesunlight.UniformedGlobal-1policebrandishedlaserriflesastheypatrolledtheperimeter.

Still holding hands, Grace and Eric backed up, not wanting to be detected. Abruptly, theycollidedwithEutonahandChiefRussell,whohadcomeupbehindthem.

“Howdidyougethere?”Ericasked.“UncleRussknowsapatharoundthemesa.Wedroveuntiltheroadendedandthenwehiked,”

Eutonahtoldhim.“Whenwesawyouweren’tcomingup,wefiguredyou’dtrytocomeallthewaydown,andwewantedtomeetyou.Ican’tbelievewhatwe’veuncoveredhere.”

“You’vejammedtheirstealthcloakingsignals!”Ericrealized.Eutonahheldoutthesignaljammer.“Thisthingispowerful,”shesaid.“Iheardthenoisesand

thoughtI’dgiveitatry.”“Unbelievable,”Gracemurmured,takinginthemassiveminingoperation.TheGlobal-1workersweredescendingfromtheirmachinesandtrucks,realizingthattheywere

visible. Voices rose in alarm as they tried to contact each other and discovered that their phoneswouldn’twork.

Eutonah pointed the jammer at the scene once more. A strange glistening descended oneverythingandthenitsnappedoutofsightasquicklyasithadappeared.“Idon’twanttotipthemoffthatwe’veseenthem,”sheexplained.“Atleastnotyet.Hopefully,they’llthinkitwasjustsomesortofsolarflareglitch.”

ChiefRussellseemedunawarethatthemachinesandtrucksandequipmenthaddisappeared.Hestaredattheplacewheretheyhadbeen,hisformerlyserenefacenowtwistedintoanexpressionofhorror.

“Theyaredestroyingtheuniverse,”hesaid.

“Itfits,”ChiefRussellsaidastheysatdeepintheinteriorofthecaveinashadowysectionunderthemesa.“This is thepartof theprophecywenowcallTheBarCodeProphecy.”Heplaced thepieceErichadpickedupandlockeditintoplacewiththeearliertabletthathadbeenretrievedfromthesideofSpiderRock.

“Whatdoesitsay?”Eutonahasked.Hedrewhis fingersalong thehorizontal line.“This isnowandhere’swhere the linedivides.

This is thepathof respecting theEarth,ourmother. It is thepath thathumanshavenot taken.Thisjaggedlineascendingtothesunwillbeourdestinynow.”

Ericpointedtoastickfigureofamanclimbingthejaggedline.“Whatdoesthismean,Uncle?”“Idonotpretendtoknowwhatwillhappen.Butthereisameteorcurrentlyinourorbit,”Chief

Russellreplied.“Butit’ssupposedtomissus,”Gracesaidanxiously.“Allthescientistssayitwillpassusby.”“This man is climbing high,” Chief Russell said, tapping the figure on the pictograph. “It’s

probablygoodadviceforallofus.”“Wehavetotellwhatweknow,”Ericsaidurgently.“Theworldhastobemadeawareofthis.It

willaffecteveryone.”Eutonahnoddedpensively.“Global-1controlsall theTVandradiostations.If theydon’twant

theworldtoknowwhatthey’vedone,thenewswillnevergetout.”“Inthatcase,IagreewithEric,”Gracesaid.“It’suptous.”

PasadenaSun August13,2026

GLOBAL-1SCOFFSATTRIBALCOUNCILWARNING.LOUDONWATERSCALLSITFEARMONGERINGOFTHE

LOWESTORDER.

PresidentLoudonWatershaspubliclydismissedthewarningsoftheTribalCouncilheldrecentlyinCanyondeChelly,Arizona,as“bunk.”Thecouncil,whichcomprisesrepresentativesfromalltheNativeAmericanNations,has flooded themediawithclaimsofan“endofdays”scenarioclaiming that some obscure prophecy dating back to earliest civilization has finally come topass.

“Ifthesepeoplefeeltheneedtocallattentiontothemselvesandtheirvariouscomplaints,letthemdoitwithouttryingtoarousemasshysteria,”thepresidentwentontosay.“Global-1’steamofthemosteminentscientistsintheworldassuremethatthemeteorissafelytravelingitspathandthereisnoneedwhatsoevertobeconcernedthat it,oranythingelse, threatensourwayoflife.”

Global-1 has banned all its stations and affiliates from carrying news of the TribalCouncil’swarnings.TheCherokeemedicinewomanknownonlyasEutonah,recentlyreleasedfromthefemaleBedfordHillsCorrectionalFacilitywhereshehadbeenimprisonedforherroleinbar code tattoo resistance, told a localTVstation, “Thepeopleof theworldmust takeourwarnings seriously,” before static engulfed her message. The station’s broadcast license wasconsequentlyrevoked.

“Myadviceistocarryonwithyourlivesanddon’tworry,”saidPresidentWaters.“I’mtoldthatintwelvedayswhenthemeteorpassesbyuswe’llgetaterrificlightdisplayinthesky.MyfamilyandIwillbeoutontheWhiteHouselawntoseeit.Youcanrestassuredofthat.”

“Whatdowedonow?”Kaylaasked.TheDecodegroup,alongwithmembersoftheDrakians,wereassembled back at the Decode cave headquarters in the Great Basin Desert. There wasmurmuredconversation,butnooneofferedaplan.

Grace satbesideEric,Eutonah, andChiefRussell,watching thegroup.Eutonah rose to speakandeveryonegrewsilent.“Wemustgetthewordout.ThatisourmostimportantmissionasIseeitrightnow.WemustallconsiderourselvesPostmenandgoouttospreadtheword.Rightnowwehaveonlyeachother.”

“I agree.” Everyone turned to see David Young striding into the cave along with his father,AmbroseYoung.“Wehavetoorganizesheltersworldwide.”

“What’sgoingtohappenexactly?”Kaylacalledout.“We’re not sure, butwe believeChiefRussell Chaca,”AmbroseYoung said. “In twelve days

something dramatic will occur; something potentially devastating to our planet. Global-1, whichcontrolsnotonlyourgovernmentbutthegovernmentsofmanynationswithitsfinancialdominance,hasmadeitclearthatitwillnotbeutilizinganyresourcestoassist.Itisuptous.”

“Faceit!It’stheendoftheworld!”awomanfromthecrowdshouted,inspiringanotherwaveofanguishedmurmuring.

DavidYoungheldhisarmsuptoquietthecrowd.“Ifitis,infact,theendoftheworld,letusgoouthelpingoneanother.”

“Howdoyouwantustostartdoingthat?”Mfumbeaskedasheclimbedontoaflatrock.“Shouldweorganizeintotaskgroups?”

DavidYoung agreed thatMfumbe should divide them into groups, some to create leaflets onhandmade presses, others to solicit donations for supplies. Anyone withmedical expertise was toformagroup,andPostmenwouldsetoffchainsoforalcommunicationsthatwouldhopefullyspreadlikewildfireamongcommunitiesandeventuallytravelworldwide.AsquadronofhackerswouldalsoworkatbreakingGlobal-1’sholdonthemedia.

WhenDavidYoungnoticedGracestandingthere,hesmiledather.“Whathappensifthisdoesn’twork?”sheaskedhim.

“Atleastwe’llallbetoobusytoworry,”theDecodeleadersaidwithasmile.“I’drathergoouttryingthansittingaroundshiveringwithfear.”

ThatmadesensetoGrace,scaredasshewas.Ericputhisarmaroundher.“Ifthisistheend,thenwe’llmeetittogether,Grace,”hesaid.

Lettingherselfmeltintohisarms,Graceraisedherfaceashekissedher.Sheheldhimtightlyandhiswarmthmelted—atleastforthemoment—theicyshardsoffearforminginsideher.

The group fell asleep late that night, sprawling anywhere they could find a spot to throw downblanketsorasleepingbag.Gracesleptdeeply,exhaustedfromherreturnridefromArizonaonthebackofthemotorcycleandalltheeventsthathadcomebefore.

She dreamed of the dances and chants she’d witnessed at the Tribal Council they’d attended,whereEutonahandChiefRussellhadpresentedtheotherhalfofthetablettotheassembledshamansand elders. The discovery engendered huge excitement. The elders agreed with Chief Russell’sinterpretationofthepictograph.Whateverwasgoingtohappen,ithadtodowithtechnologyanditwouldhappenverysoon.

TheredclaytonesoftheearthagainstthevividyellowoftheskycoloredGrace’sdreams.Theimpassioned songs of the tribal elders still played in her sleepingmind.Waking, she rememberedhowthetribeshadcalledupontheGreatSpirittodriveGlobal-1fromtheirlandssinceitwasGlobal-1thatwaspullingthepreciousmineraloreandundergroundwatersfromthesacredlands.

ThenGrace fell asleeponcemore anddreamedof a giant,many-colored, fire-breathingbirddivingintotheoceanattremendousspeed.Sheawokewithajolt.

Thistimesheheardthecrackleofaburningcampfire.Kayla,Mfumbe,Allyson,Katie,Eric,andJackstoodbyit,streakedwithwarpaint.Gracesatup,alarmed.Whatweretheydoing?

Andthenshesawforherself.Theywerepaintingamuralonthecavewallsandtheyweresimplysplashedwiththepaintsthey’dbeenusing.KaylasawthatGracewaswatchingandsmiled.“Ifthisistheendoftheworld,wewanttoleavesomethingbehind,”sheexplained.“Maybesomedaysomeonewillcomebackandwonderwhathappenedtous.”

“It’s like the cave people left their drawings behind for us somany thousands of years ago,”Mfumbeadded.

Theyhadalreadymadealotofprogressandthemuralwasnearlyfifteenfeetlongandalmostten feet high. It showed theGlobalHelix buildingwith its spiralDNA roof sculpture. Therewas asectionshowingbar-codedwristsonweepingpeople.Anoutlineofasix-foothumanfigurehaditscirculatory systemmapped out in red. The molecule-sized nanobots dotted the red lines and sentjagged lines up to satellites drawn in the sky. More lines showed signals being sent back toGlobalHelix.

EricsatdownbesideGrace,stillholdinghispaintbrush.“Itremindsmeoftheprophecytablet,”heremarked.

“Itdoes,”Graceagreed.Erictookherhand,andtogethertheywentovertothepartof themural thatAllysonandJack

wereworkingon.Itwasavividblueskywithadozenswing-losintheair.“Haveyoubuilttwelveofthemalready?”Graceasked.

“Almost,”Jacksaid.“Whenyouhavetherightequipment,they’renotthathardtoputtogether.”“Plus, we have room out here towork and lots of people to help us,”Allyson added as she

paintedinanocher-coloredlineonatabletopmesajustbelowoneofthecrafts.DavidYoungapproachedthem,takinginthemural.“Wonderful,”hepraisedthework.“Iheard

yousayyouhadtwelvemade?”hecheckedwithJack.“Howfastcanyoumakemore?”“Howmuchmoneyhaveyougot?”Jackcountered.“Alotofmoney,”DavidYoungreplied.“ThenIcanmakealotofswing-los,”Jackconfirmedwithconfidence.“Andisthecloakingdeviceworking?”DavidYoungasked.“Likeadream,”Jackassuredhim.“Waitaminute.There’ssomethingIdon’tunderstand,”Allysoncutin.“Ifwe’refacingimminent

disaster,whyareyousoeager to rushproductionalong?It’ssortofan inopportunemoment tobegoingintobusiness,isn’tit?”

DavidYoungsighedandasadsmileformedonhislips.“WhenIdecidedtofundyouguys,Iwasneverreallyconcernedwithmakingmoney.Ialreadyhavemoney.”

“Thenwhydidyoudoit?”Allysonasked.DavidYoungshrugged.“Maybeitwon’tbetheendoftheworld.Whoknows?Maybewe’reall

justpanickedfornothing.”“Butyousaidyoudidn’tcareaboutthemoney?”Graceremindedhim.“I’m a strange guy, I guess. I just like to see good ideas succeed. And I’m not one hundred

percent sure this is theend.Maybenothingat allwillhappen just likenothinghascomeofanyoftheseend-of-timespredictionsinthepast.”

“Oh, something is about to happen, all right,”Dr.Harriman said, joining them.He had beenspendingmostofhistimeonhisown,inamakeshiftlaboratory—buthestillwouldn’tsaywhathewasdoing.“I’mnotasuperstitiousmanandIdon’tbelieveinprophecyorprediction.Themysticalmechanisms of otherworldly communications are beyond my understanding. But I am incommunicationwithavastnetworkofscientistswhoworkcovertlysoasnottohavetheirfindingsco-optedbyGlobal-1.Amongthesecolleaguesareastrologistsandastrophysicists.”

“Whatdotheytellyou?”DavidYoungasked.“Thissolarflareactivityisunprecedented.Itisalreadydisruptingradiosignalsworldwide.Ifit

getsanymoreactive,ithasthepotentialtoknocksatellitesoutoftheskywiththeintenseheatorjamtheirabilitytoreceiveorsendsignals.”

Mfumbestoppedworkingonhispartofthemural.“Doesthataffectthespacestations?”“Itcould,”Dr.Harrimanreplied.“Whataboutthemeteor?”Graceasked.Dr.Harriman’seyestraveledacrossthegroupandGracesensedhisreluctancetotellthemwhat

hehad to say.Everyone felt it and stoppedwhat theyweredoing topay attention. “If anyof thosedisabledspacestationsgetinthepathofthemeteor,theycoulddramaticallyshiftitstrajectory.”

“AndsendittowardEarth?”Mfumbeasked.“AndsendittowardEarth,”Dr.Harrimanechoedsomberly.Grace’s breath caught in her chest. She knew that a meteor hit was what had wiped out the

dinosaurs.WasitpossiblethatthesewerereallytheirlastdaysonEarth?Closinghereyes,shefeltthegroundbeneathherspinandshestaggered,feelingfaint.

Ericcaughtherarm.“Steady,”heurgedsoftly.Breathingdeeply,Gracewilledherself to be strong. “I’mall right,” she toldEric as shebent

forwardtobringbloodcirculationbackintoherhead.Asshehungthere,hottearsbrimmedhereyesandsherealizedhowmuchshelovedbeingalive.Theideathatverysoonshemightnolongerlive—thatnoneofthemwould—wasmorethanshecouldcopewith.

TheBarCodeProphecyhadtobewrong.Ithadtobe.But a line from the prophecy played and re-played in hermind.The heavenly bodies will be

pulledfromtheskies.Was thatwhatGlobal-1haddone?Bytaking thepreciousresourcesfromtheEarth,hadtheyupsetthebalanceoftheuniversesothatthismeteorwouldbepulledfromtheskies?

Itcertainlyfit.Gracewantedherfamily,buttheyweren’there.Instead,shelookedaroundat thisstrangenew

familyshe’dfound.Andshethought,Whatarewegoingtodo?

“Whyisn’tthisalloverthenews?”Kaylafrettedseveraldayslaterasshe,Mfumbe,Eric,andGracestoodatthemouthofthecavewithseveralotherDecodememberslookingout.ItseemedtoGracethattheskyhadgrownmuchmoreyellowandthattheheathadbecomenearlyunbearable.

“Evenifwedon’tcareaboutbeingtracked,wecan’tgetaphonetowork,”Kaylawentoninanagitatedtone.“Arewesupposedtojustwaithereforthismeteortoblastustobits?”

Mfumbeputhisarmaroundhershouldersbutsaidnothing.Hisseriousexpressionradiatedthetensiontheyallfelt.“MaybeaPostmanwillcomewithnews,”Mfumbesuggested.

“GraceandIarePostmen.Ithinkweshouldgoseewhatwecanfind,”Ericoffered.Dr.Harrimanjoinedthemfrominsidethecave.“Imayhaveaneasierway.”Graceturnedalongwiththeothersandsawthatheheldadiscinthepalmofhishand.“Grace,

this is the invention that has causedyou somuch trouble,”Dr.Harriman revealed. “It’s the thing Iwon’tgiveGlobal-1, thethingthattheywantsodesperately.I’veonlynowfinishedit.ButI thinkitmightjustwork.”

“Whatisit?”Graceaskedhim.“It’samessagingdevice thatbypasses thesatellites,”Dr.Harrimanreplied.“Itcanbebounced

offanymetalthat’sfloatinginspace—anymeteor,anyplanetorasteroid.”“Butnoonecanownthosethings,”Kaylasaid.“Oh,thecountriesandcompaniesaretrying,butsofar,no.Theycan’t.It’sfreecommunication

fortheplanetwithnoonemonitoringit.”“IcanseewhyGlobal-1wouldn’twantthattogetout,”Mfumberemarked.“Itwouldbe far tooempowering tohumankind,”Dr.Harrimanconcurred. “Butwecanuse it

rightnowtoseewhat’sgoingonoutintheworld.”Sweepinghisfingertipsacrossthescreenmadethedevicelightup.Several tapsbroughtapicturetothescreen.“Jonathan!Itworks!”amanonthescreensaid.“Goodtoseeyou.IsGracewithyou?”

“Dad!”Grace cried out, recognizing the voice immediately. “I’mhere!”She stood besideDr.Harriman,lookingatherdad,AlbertMorrow,onthescreen.“Iseveryoneallright?”

“We’refine,Grace.WeweresoworrieduntilJonathangotintouchandtoldusyouwereokay,”herfatherreplied.

“Whatdoyouhear?”Dr.Harrimanasked.“Wehaveanewsblackouthere.”“So do we. Global-1 isn’t letting any news through. They’re claiming that solar flares have

createdhavoconalltheirsystems.Theyprobablyjustwanttorunforcoverbeforeanyoneelsecan.”“Coverfromwhat?”Graceasked.“TherumorsarethatthesolarflareshaveknockedoutallthecontrolsoftheInternationalSpace

Stationandthatitdriftedandcollidedwiththemeteor.BothareheadedforEarth’satmosphereaswe

speak.”“Doesanyoneknowwheretheymightbeexpectedtoland?”Dr.Harrimanasked.“Right now they’re saying they’re going to hit in the Pacific, somewhere near the

California/Mexicoborder.”“Howclosetoland?”Dr.Harrimaninquired.“Nooneknows.”“Howsoon?”Dr.Harrimanasked.“They’re basing their calculations loosely on Skylab, which fell to Earth in 1979,” Albert

Morrowexplained.“TherewereninedaysbetweenthetimethespacestationhittheatmosphereandwhenitstrucktheEarth.Butthat’sjustaneducatedguess.There’salotmoretonnagecomingdownonusthistime.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Harrimanmused. “My colleagues at NORAD estimated themeteor to be twentymilliontonsandtravelingataspeedoftwenty-threethousandmilesanhour.Ihavenoinformationonhowheavythecurrentspacestationisorhowmuchofitwillactuallyhitus.ButIcantellyouthis:Evenifsomeofthespacestationripsapartandthemeteorsplitsintheatmosphereuponentry,we’restilllookingatanimpactequivalenttomanyatomicbombs.”

The low hum of conversation that had arisen suddenly quieted. Everyone had caught the laststatementandwasstunnedbyit.DavidYoungandAmbroseYounghadcomein,andtheyappearedasshockedastherestofthem.

“We’relookingatninedays?”DavidYoungchecked.“Idon’tthinkwehavethatmuchtime,”Dr.Harrimansaid.“Wehavetwohugeobjectshurtling

towardus.Evenifthespacestationburnsupcompletelyandthemeteorcracksinhalfandonewholehalffragment…”

“Eventhen?”AmbroseYoungquestioned.“I’m afraid so,” Dr. Harriman confirmed. “I’m estimating it will reach our atmosphere in

anothertwodaysandthenitwillbeanothertwodaysfromthetimeitreachesouratmospheretothetimeithitsus.”

Grace’sskinwenticywithterrorandanauseabegantoswirlinherbelly.Thiswasitthen.Noonewouldescapethis.

Inamerefourdays—maybeadaymore,maybeadayless—theywouldalldie.Grace turned toward Dr. Harriman’s device as her father ’s voice came on. “Jonathan. Can I

speaktoGraceamoment?”Dr.HarrimanhandedGracehisdeviceandGracepeereddownatherserious-facedfatheronthe

screen.“Grace,youknowhowmuchweallloveyou,”hebegan.“Iwishwecouldbetogetherrightnow.Thisisn’twhatweplanned.”

“Iknow,Dad,”Graceansweredas tearswelledinhereyes.“I loveyou, too.I’llbeall right.Ihavegoodfriendshere.”Tearfully,Gracespoketohermother,James,andKim.

“Grace,”hermothersignedoffbykissingherfingersandtouchingthemto thescreen.Gracedidthesameasthescreenwentdark.Theideathatshewouldneverseeanyofthemagaincausedadeeppaininthepitofherstomach.Hermindwouldn’tacceptit,asmuchassheknewsheshouldfacethefacts.

“Okay, everybody,”DavidYoung spoke in a no-nonsense tone. “Iwas just outwith Jack andAllyson.Let’sgetoutandtelleveryonewhatwejustnowheard.Anyonewho’sbraveenoughtotryaswing-lo,goouttherenowandgetaflyinglessonifyouneedone.AnyonewithPostmanexperience,pleasegofirst.”

“Whyevenbother?”Allysonaskedinadespairingtone.“Becausethere’sachance,”DavidYounganswered.

“Isthere,Dr.Harriman?”Allysonasked.“Isthereanychanceatall?”“There’salwaysachancethingswillnothappenaspredicted.Rightnowwedon’thaveall the

information,”Dr.Harrimananswered.“Thearmedforcesmightbeworkingonsomething,awaytomovethemeteorandthespacestationoutintotheocean.Theymightbefiringnukesatittoblowitapart,thoughIdon’twanttothinkaboutthekindofnuclearwinterthatwillcause.Allthesefactorsmaketheoutcomeuncertain.”

“Sothere’sachancewemightsurvive,”Kaylasurmised.“There’salwaysachance,”Dr.Harrimanrepeated.“Isaylet’sgetouttotheswing-los,”Jacksaid.“Wemightaswellgooutfighting.”Amurmurofagreementsweptthroughthegroupandtheybegantoheadtowardthefrontofthe

cave.EriccamealongsideGraceandputhisarmaroundher.“Whatdoyouthink?”heasked.“There’snosensejustsittingandwaitingfortheend,”shesaid.EricsmiledatGraceasshewipedhereyes.“Let’sdothistogether,”hesuggested.“Hopefullywe

won’thavetoparachuteoutthistime.”“I think I shoulddriveonmyown,”Gracecountered.“Therearen’t thatmanypeoplewho’ve

evenbeeninonebefore.AtleastIhavethatmuchexperience.”Gracewasn’tsureshecoulddoitandwasfrightened,butanotherpartofherwasthrilledattheideaoftrying.

Grace adjusted thebrimofher cap so that it sat aboveherdark sunglasses.The soakedwashclothshe’dwrappedaroundherneckwasdryingquicklyintheblisteringsun,andshehopedshe’dhaveachancetowetitagainbeforeflyingherswing-loacrossthedesert.

Seeingherfamilyagainhadmadeherlongtobewiththem.Buthearingtheirtenderwordshadliftedaweightfromherheart.Atleastsheknewwheretheywereandtheyhadsaidtheirgood-byes,ifthat’swhatitwouldcometo.

Theswing-loswereparkedina lineof twelveoutsideawoodenlean-toAllysonandJackhadbeenusingasaworkshop.Withthesunreflectingofftheirsides,thecraftsappearedsleekerandmorestate-of-theartthaneverbefore.

Katie’stractortrailerwasparkednearby.Shestoodinbackwiththedoorsopen.Behindherwerestacksofboxesfilledwithemergencysupplies:water,food,first-aidkits.

“Ordinarilyeachswing-locancarry twopeople,but todaywe’reusingonlyonepilot toeachvehiclesothatyoucanloadthepassengerseatwiththesesupplies,”AllysontoldthegroupofpilotsthatsheandJackhadselectedandgivenaquicktrainingsession.Gracejoinedtheothersinloadinghercraftwiththeboxes.

“Dowehavecloakingtechnologyonthesenow?”Ericasked.“It’sinstalledbutbecauseofthesesolarflaresIcan’tgetittowork,”Jackreplied.Grace’s swing-lo was parked beside the one Eric intended to fly. “Do you think what we’re

doingwillmakeanydifference?”Graceaskedskeptically.Ericcontinuedtostackhisboxesashespoke.“Thespacestationwillbreakupwhenithitsthe

atmosphereandwillprobablycrashallaroundusinpieces.And,likeDr.Harrimansaid,themeteormightsplitapart,butstill…whenthathits…”Helethisvoicetrailoffominously.

Grace shut her eyes and let her mind go blank. She didn’t want to envision— even in herimagination—thedisastershisunspokenwords implied. If themeteorhit thePacific, thena largepartof theoceanwasgoingtoendupcrashingintothecoasts.Andthatwasthebest-casescenario.Maybethetidalwavewouldbecontainedbythevariousmountainrangesinitspathbutitwouldalldependontheforceandsizeofthetsunami.

“Doyouthinkthearmedforceswillcomeout?Canthenavydoanything?”Graceasked.

“Whoknows?”Ericanswered,comingaroundbesideher.Heheldherinhisarmsandshelaidher headonhis chest.His heart pounded andhe tightenedhis grip in away she found reassuring.“Grace, I’mgladwe’regoing tobe together,whateverhappens.You’vecome tomeansomuch tome.”

Gracelookedupathim.“Ifeelthesame.”He smiled at her and brushed away a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. “I love you,

Grace.”His words brought emotional tears to her eyes, a mix of happiness and something else. She

couldn’t name the something else.Maybe itwas being overwhelmed by feelings— to have foundsomething so precious as his love and to know that there would be no real time for them to betogether—itwassoconfusing.

“Iloveyou,too,Eric,”Gracesaid,knowingitwasso.Theyleanedtowardeachotherandkissed.Foramoment, theworldwent away.TherewasnoGlobal-1,noprophecy,no tidalwavecrashingtowardthem.ForamomentGraceletherselfimaginethatthiswashappeninginherbackyardasshehadhopeditwouldnotsoverylongago.

Whenthekisswasdone,theyslowlyparted,stilllookingateachother.“We’dbettergetgoing,”Ericsaid,finally.“Areyougoingtobeallrightflyingthatthing?”

“Ofcourse,”Gracereplied,wishingthattheconfidenceinhertonewassincereandnotthefalsebravado that it reallywas. She hoped she could remember Jack’s quick instructions,which, at themoment,sherecalledasonlyablurofwords.

Pushing these worries aside, Grace climbed into the pilot’s seat of the cockpit. The new,improved swing-lo had a streamlined dashboard that rose with three-dimensional holographiccontrolswhen shewavedherhandacross its rectangular screen. Its steeringmechanismwasgone,replacedwith finger-touch technology. Its engine purred to lifewhen she activated the controls asJackhadshowedher,andthecraftelevatedsmoothlytoaboutthreefeetabovetheground.

GracestoleaglanceatEric,whohoveredbesideher.Hesmiledandshotherathumbs-up.“Finallevel,huh!”heremarked.

Grinning,shenodded.“Allright,everyone,”Allysonspokeloudlytothegroup.“Remembernottotakethesetoohigh.

Thelastmodelcrackedupatathousandfeet.We’reprettysuretheycannowclimbtoaboutthirteenhundred feet, butwe’re not positive.At no higher than eight hundred feet, any of these buttes andmesasshouldbepossiblelandingplatformsifyoudon’twanttocomeallthewaydown.GoodluckandremembertomeetusatMonumentValleybytheformationcalledTheThumbwhenyou’redone.We’regoingtomeetwiththetribaleldersthere.Atleastwe’llallseethisthroughtogether.”

Graceslidherfingerupthesideoftheorangeholographicbarandthecraftrosetenfeetintheair.Immediatelyherswing-lotiltedsofartotherightthatGracegrippeditssides.Theauto-correctkickedin,placingherbackintoahorizontalequilibrium.

“Don’tworry,you’redoingbetterthanmost,”Ericsaidashehoveredatherside.Gazinginthedirectionhewaspointing,shesawthat theother tenpilotswerehavinganinitial roughstart,somespinningincircles,othersjerkingabruptlyupanddown,stillotherslurchingforwardandback.

Ericwhizzedoff tohelpotherstrugglingnewpilotswhileGracepracticedflyingat threefeetaround the desert floor. Before long she felt a new confidence and rose two feet higher and flewfaster.Soonshewasreadytoelevateevenhigher.

Smiling with the pleasure of near-mastery, Grace maneuvered the swing-lo in a swirling,pretzel-likepattern,dippingaroundandunderinarchingcurves.Pressingdownonthepurplebaroftheholographicaccelerator,shespedoutawayfromthegroupintothedesert,travelingatfifteenfeetabovetheground.ShesetthenavigatortowardSedona,Arizona.Shewouldstopalongthewayand

offeroneofhersupplyboxes, telling thepeoplewhatsheknew, inviting themto join theothers inMonumentValleyatTheThumb.Thehighergroundtheycouldmake,thebetter.

AsGraceflew,shewasfilledwithajoyful,almostdesperateexhilaration.Iftheseweregoingtobethelasthoursofherlife,thenshecouldthinkofnobetterwayofspendingthemthanflyingfreeasabirdonthemostexcitingadventureofherlife.

Forthenextthreedays,Graceworkedtoperfectherskillsasaswing-lopilot.Thetrainingwentwell;sheseemedtohaveanaturalaptitudeforit.Shedidn’tthinkanyofthefleet,exceptJack,Allyson,andpossiblyEricwereanybetterthanshewasnow.Itwasn’tjustheropinion.Theyallsaidso.

Shewasgratefultohavetheflyingtoconcentrateon.Ifshe’donlybeensittingandwaitingfortheend tocome, shewas sure she’dhave losthermind to fearandanxietybefore theactualeventeven occurred. But maybe she wouldn’t have, she considered. Spending this time with Eric, bothknowingitmightbetheonlytimetheywouldeverhave,madethedayssweetinastrange,unexpectedway.

Whowouldhavethoughtthatthelastdaysoftheworldwouldturnouttobethebestdaysofherlife?

NowshewasonherwayintoMonumentValley,flyingjustabovethehighwaywiththebubble-top open. The heat had become so intense that no one could bear to close the clear dome overthemselves.As theyellowskybegan to fadeback intodusk,Grace touched the tipofhernoseandcringedwith pain.Despite the coverage of her cap and a liberal smear of sun block, itwas badlysunburned.

Hoursspent flyingacross thedesert, stoppingonly to talkwithpeople inSedonaand then thevillage ofChinle had left her skin burned and hermuscles aching but hermood uplifted. She feltuseful,andknowingthatGlobal-1couldn’ttrackherbecauseoftheirsignaljamsmadeherfeelfreefor the first time in weeks. She hadn’t realized how much having the tracker nanobots in herbloodstreamhaddepressedher,madeherfeellikeatrappedanimal.

OnherwayintoMonumentValley,shesawGlobal-1miningtrucksrumblingalongthehighway,their cloaking devices no longer functional. It seemed strange that they were working despiteeverythingthatwashappeningintheworld.

Hermonitorindicatedthatanotherswing-lowasbehindher.InalittlewhileshesawitwasEricwhowaspilotingit.Slowingsohecouldcomealongsideher,shesawthathisexpressionwasserious.

“It’shappened,Grace!”Heshoutedtobeheardoverthewindandenginenoise.“ThemeteorhashitthePacificOceanatSanDiego.Athousand-foottsunamiistravelingattwohundredmilesanhourandisheadedourway.”

Onebyone the twelveswing-losappeared in thevalley,hoveringalongsideoneanother.“Wehavetobringasmanypeopleaswecanuptotheridgesandmesas,”Erictoldtheothers.

ThegroupflewtoTheThumb,wheretheTribalCouncilwasgathered.ThemembersofDecodeand theDrakianshad joined the tribal elders there.Thepilots loaded them twoat a time into theirswing-los,whichshimmiedwiththeaddedweightofanextraload.

“TakeChiefRussell,”Eutonah saidwhenGrace stopped for her. “I’ll stay down here to help

load.”Astheelderlychiefclimbedin,GracesawthatKayla,Mfumbe,Allyson,andJackwerehelpingguidepeopleintothecrafts.DavidYoungandhisfatherwerealsolendingahand.

Dr.HarrimanapproachedGrace,grippinghishandheldinvention.“Thisdeviceisstillworking,”hetoldher.“I’vebeenabletoalertgovernmentofficialsinDenver,SaltLakeCity,andSpokane.”

“Getin,”Graceurgedhim.“Maybeitwillbeeasierthehigheryougo.”The swing-lo tipped as Dr. Harriman climbed aboard, squeezing next to Chief Russell. It

shimmiedominouslybut thenadjustedandbegan toslowlyascend.Theshakinggrew increasinglyviolent as theyneared the topofWestMittenButte.Grace’sgauge read5,597 feet above sea level.Thiswas higher than she should be going.But the other swing-losweremanaging it, though alsoshakingbadly.

Forhours,GraceandhercompanionsworkedtobringtheTribalCouncil,Decodeworkers,andDrakiansup.The lastyellowof the skywas fading intodarknessas thepilotshovered inagroup,scanningthecanyonfloor,searchingforanyonetheymighthavemissed.

Above the hum of the crafts, Grace slowly detected an unfamiliar sound. A low roar wasapproachingfromsomewhere.Theothersheardit,stretchinguphighintheircraftstohearbetter.

GracecaughtEric’seyeandhenodded, tellingherhewas thinking thesame thingshewas: Itwashere.

Below,waterglistened,reflectingthefullmoonasitseepedintothevalley.Global-1 trucksbegan to rumbledownHighway163asworkers realizedwhatwashappening

andtriedtoflee.Grace’s swing-lobegan tovibrateuntil the shaking traveled intoherbody,makingherbones

buzzwiththesensation,herteethchatteruncontrollably.Therumblingroargrewintoadeafeningblast.Andthenitappeared.Athousandfootwallofwaterrolledinfromthewest.On the ground,Global-1workers had climbedonto their trucks andmachinery.Waving their

armsattheswing-los,theyshoutedtoberescued.Without thinking, Grace swooped down and took on twomen. The others were immediately

behindher,pickingupasmanyofthestrandedworkersastheycouldmanage.AseamofGrace’scraftvibratedloose,pullingapartinaneverwideninggapasshewentdown

asecond time foranothercoupleofworkers.No,no! she thoughtdesperately.Holdon justa littlelonger,shecoaxedthecraftasthoughitwerealivingbeingshecouldurgeon.

Asshetraveledbackupwithanothergroup,Gracewaspeltedwithwater.Inaminutethetidalwavewouldengulfthem.Depositingtheworkersonthemesa,GracesawthatErichadzoomeddowntogettwomore.

Washecrazy?Therewasnotimetobringthembackup!Hisshipwaswobblinghorribly.Thetwopassengerswerethrownfreeofthecraft.Inthenextsecond,Eric’sswing-loflewapart,

itspiecesflyingineverydirection.Atthesamemoment,thegiganticwavehit,tossinghimintotheair,armsandlegssprawled.“No!”Graceshoutedasshewatchedfromabove.Settingthecontrolsintoasteepdive,sheflewdown.Bythetimeshenearedhim,Ericwasinthe

water,strugglingtokeephisheadabovebutbeingdrivenunderbytheforceofthesurge.AsGracecameabovethedrivingwave,hercraftwastossedawayasthoughitwerenomorethanafeather.

Itwasnouse.Shewouldneverreachhim.Thegapinherswing-lowaswidening.Ifitpulledcompletelyapart,thecraftwouldbedestroyed

justasEric’sswing-lohadbeen.Theparachutes!Everyswing-lohadone.Butthatcouldn’thelpthemnow.

Gracereachedunderherseatforherchuteasanewideacametoher.Unfurlingit,shelet theparachuteanditslinesdrop.Comingaslowasshecouldmanage,shedraggedthechutetoEric,whoflounderedinthewater.

Hegrabbedandmissedrepeatedly.Itwasjusttoofarup.Desperate toreachhim,Gracethrewherweightontothesideofswing-lo, tippingit tosucha

steeppitchthatshehadtogripthesidetokeepfrombeingthrownoverboard.Thenylonchuteskimmedthe topof thewaveandEriccaught it.Pullingherselfback into the

cockpit,Graceranherfingersuptheholographicbarandthecraftlifted.Tremendouswinds generated by the tsunami swirled around them, keeping Grace’s swing-lo

fromclimbing,blowingitsidewaysinstead.ThegapwidenedandGraceclutchedatitwithbothhands,strugglingtokeepthecrafttogether

bythedesperatestrengthinherarms.Agustcaughttheshipfromthesideandpitcheditintothesideofthebutte,smashingitagainsttherockwall.

ThelinesoftheparachutesnaggedagainstarockledgeasGracetumbledintothechute.Hangingtherebreathless,justabovetheleveloftherisingflood,GracesawthatthelinesEric

hadclungtowerenowunderwater.“Eric!”sheshouteddown.Seeingnosignofhim,shesearchedtheracingfloodwaters.Hadhebeenthrownloose?Swept

away?Inthenextminute,Ericemerged,climbingupthebatteredparachute.Gracehadneverseenamorewonderfulsight.Hopingthattheparachutewouldnotcomeloosefromtherockwall,Gracealsopulledherself

arm over aching arm, thewet nylon slipping and cutting into her skin, until shewas able to pullherselfontotheledge.Ericwasquicklybesideher.

Peering upward, they saw the people on the rock, looking down.Theywere safely above thewater.

EricenfoldedGraceinhisarms,andsheclungtohim,bothofthemexhaustedfromtheeffortofclimbing,huddledthereontherockyledge.

Graceopenedhereyestoseethattheredandpinkskywasstreakedwithvividblueasthesunrose.Thegarishyellowofthelastdayshadfadedbacktoalemonyglow.ShehadfallenasleepinEric’sarms,bothof theirbacksproppedagainstaboulder.Hestillslumberedbesideher.Theywerebothbruised and disheveled, but alive. She remembered everything that had happened, including beingtransportedtothemesatopbyJackwhocametogettheminaswing-lo.

Leaningforward,Gracewasamazedtoseethattheviolentenergyofthetsunamihadsubsidedintorollingwavesthatcrashedjustbelowthetopofthemesa.Thespacewascrowdedwithpeople.LookingacrosstoEastMittenButte,shesawthatmanypeoplewerecrowdedontoitstop,aswell.

KaylacameandsatbesideGrace.“Howareyoufeeling?”“Bangedup.Okay,”Graceresponded.“Dr.Harrimanhasbeenonhisdevice.He’sspokenwithyourfamily.They’reokayeventhough

there’shugefloodingontheEastCoast,too.Global-1’sspacestationandsatellitesallfellintheGulfofMexico.TheChinesespacestationwentintothePacificinAsia.Otherspacestationsandsatellitesalsowentdown.Theentireworldisprettymuchunderwater.”

“Thewholeworld?”Gracequestioned,aghastattheimmensityofthedisaster.“Not entirely.A lot of people got to themountains. People in higher elevations probably did

better than those closer to sea level.We don’t have all the information yet. The good news is that

Global-1 headquarters worldwide have been destroyed and all its satellites and space stations aredown.”

Blinkingtoconsciousness,Ericawokeandsurveyedthechangedsceneryaroundhim.“Idon’tbelieveit,”hemurmuredasawaverolledinjustyardsaway.

Mfumbejoinedthemandlookedoutoverthewater.“Yourpremonitionhascometrue,Kayla,”hesaid.“Thedeserthasturnedbackintoanocean.”

Mfumbe folded his arms and leaned against the boulder. “You know,when Iwas a kid Iwastaught in Bible class that the world would never again be destroyed by flood like it was back inNoah’sarktimes.”

Kaylaroseandtookhishand.“It’snotdestroyed.”“It’sjustbeengivenasecondchance,”saidEutonah,joiningthem.They stood silently for severalmoreminutes, taking it all in beforewalking off.WhileEric

spoke with his mother and uncle, Grace wandered around the mesa, seeing what was happening.Peoplewerealreadyengagedinthebusinessofsurvival:makingfires,tendingtotheinjured,settingupshelters.AcrowdgatheredaroundDr.Harriman, trying togetnewsofwhathadhappened.JackandAllysonguidedateaminrepairingthebatteredswing-lofleet.

Inawhile,Gracewouldhelp,butshejustneededalittletimetothinkabouteverythingthathadhappened.Nodoubt,alotofpeoplehaddiedandshetookamomenttomournthem.

Ericcameupalongsideherandtookherhand.“Mymotherhashadoneofhervisions,”hetoldGrace.“Shedoesn’tthinkGlobal-1iscomingback.They’vesufferedtoomuchdamage.”

Graceletawarmbreezewaftoverher.“Sonobodyisreceivingsignalsfromthenanobotsinmybloodanymore?”shequestioned.

“There are no satellites to pick up your signals. If they’re not active, Dr. Harriman told methey’lldissolveinsixmonths,”Ericsaid.

Shutting her eyes,Grace absorbed this information. She allowed the low flame of relief andhappinesstocatchfirewithinher.Thenetthathadbeenthrownoverallofthemhadbeentornloose.

“Doyouthinkthisisreallyasecondchancefortheworld?”GraceaskedEric.“Itcouldbe,”heallowed.“Ihopeitis.”Inherheart,Gracewascertainitwasasecondchance.“Andthistimemaybe,wecandoitright,”

shesaid.“Wecansuretry.”

SUZANNEWEYN is the acclaimed author ofEmpty,DistantWaves,Reincarnation,The BarCodeTattoo, and The Bar Code Rebellion, as well as The Crimson Thread,Water Song, and The NightDance.ShelivesinNewYork.

AlsobySUZANNEWEYN

TheBarCodeTattooTheBarCodeRebellion

ReincarnationDistantWaves:ANoveloftheTitanic

EmptyInvisibleWorld:ANoveloftheSalemWitchTrials

Copyright©2012bySuzanneWeyn.

All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc.,Publishers since1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registeredtrademarksofScholasticInc.

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Firstedition,November2012

CoverartbyJonathanBarkatCoverdesignbyChristopherStengel

e-ISBN978-0-545-47000-1

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