They had no chance to grab their belongings from the craft.

Instead the military people led them to a compound with an ugly grey slab of a building surrounded by a wire fence. They were taken into small rooms, even smaller than the rooms in Zapville. And just like that, they were prisoners again.

Angharad reached out for Sophie's hand but the long end of a rifle pushed them apart.

They were separated into groups and not allowed to speak to each other. The patrolling military people constantly watched them. Sometimes she heard people being called out of their rooms to speak to someone, she assumed for interrogation. Did the Major and the Captain in their military uniforms help or make the way things looked worse? Angharad wasn't sure. All she knew is that she was surrounded by suspicious faces and people who got to decide who asked the questions.

The military, whichever it was, was definitely North American judging by the accents, probably somewhere on the West Coast, though that could have been anywhere from California to British Columbia for all Angharad knew. And there was nothing in their uniforms to give her any clues.

There was a small outside area, a patch of dirt surrounded by a wire fence, that they were sometimes allowed to talk a walk in, under strict supervision. One day Angharad sat on a wooden bench in that area and watched the clear glass hallways that connected buildings as people walked through. Mnemosyne marched along in her uniform, followed by Jin and Freya. Freya caught Angharad's eye and gave her a shrug before they walked out. They reappeared on the outside of the fence and got into a dark car. Diplomatic rescue, presumably.

Angharad looked up in the sky, breathed in the air. Not that stale smell of Zapville but something living and real. There was something in the distance flying about. Not a bird, a drone, something small and consumer grade. She hoped it had a camera and an internet connection, so she took a chance to smile up at it. What should the expression be? she thought. Sad and hopeful, maybe wistful, somehow tragically beautiful in the way people took pity on? That was asking too much of her own face. She let herself look tired and unfocused.

The drone started to buzz away. Somebody in the yard yelled. From above in one of the towers, somebody else shot it down.

*

After two weeks a guard outside called out her name – her actual name, not just, "Hey, you!" – and asked her to step outside.

She was escorted to a room. Before they opened the door the guard said, "I don't know how you engineered this, but be grateful you're getting a chance."

They shoved her in the room. James was pacing inside in a bland, blue suit. He'd gained a little weight to the face and grey at the temples, and he had a wedding ring on his finger. Really? She hadn't even been gone a whole year.

She walked over to the table and sat down, waited for him to do the same.

He looked frightened of her for some reason.

Good, he should be.

She placed her hands flat on the table and tried to look perfectly winsome so she could fool the guard watching in on them from the door. And then said, "Hello, cousin."