"I think your father is in town," Ed said quietly.

The bubble burst.

Gaia winced and pulled away from him. The sentence smacked her with the force of a bat. How did- "And he gave me this," Ed added. He limped back to his bag and crouched beside it, pulling a CD from the side pocket of his bag. "I have no idea what this is, but your father wanted you to see it. And he wants you to read the note. He said there should be no more secrets. And that he hoped you could forgive him. And that he loves you-"

"Enough," Gaia gasped. Ed's words were like fingernails sc.r.a.ping against a chalkboard. Any more and Gaia was going to scream. She took two quick steps toward him and yanked the CD from his hand. Her eyes narrowed.

CLOFAZE.

Who or what the h.e.l.l was Clofaze? The warmth she'd felt only seconds before melted into anger- anger so powerful that she trembled. She flipped the case over and tore away the note that was tucked into the back cover. These G.o.dd.a.m.n notes. They were fast becoming her father's only means of communication. Notes that told her how much he'd loved her. How he'd missed her all the years he'd been gone. How he wanted to come back into her life. The last note had been the one he'd left at the Mercer Street apartment-a nice quick one to let her know he was abandoning her again with no explanation.

Her fingers quivered as she unfolded it.

Dearest Gaia, I know what you must think of me. You may very well despise me. And you'd have every right to, Gaia. Every right. I pray every day that your life does not unfold as mine has. I pray you're never forced to make the kinds of inhuman decisions I've been forced to make. And I pray you never have to experience the overwhelming guilt and shame I've felt over the people I have hurt. They are all people I love, Gaia. Most of all, you.

But please believe me, I never would have left you for another moment if I'd had any choice. If it were not your safety at stake. I left you only so that I could protect you. So that I could obtain the information on this CD.

I want you to have this information. I want you to know everything that Loki's been planning. I realize that you're not a child anymore, and that I need to stop treating you like one. I've made a terrible mistake in trying to protect you from the truth- trying to keep things from you. It hasn't protected you at all; it's only made you more vulnerable. So I promise you, there will be no more secrets.

All I can ask now is that you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me. Perhaps now, for the first time in your life, you may be starting to understand why I left you all those years ago. Maybe you're beginning to understand what it is to run from the people you love most, in order to protect them from Loki.

But, Gaia, I need you to let me help you now. Once you see the information on this CD, you'll understand the kind of danger you are in. You must let me help you. No matter how resentful you might be, no matter how much you might hate me, you need to let me protect you. Because no one can handle my brother alone. I made the mistake of believing I could long ago, and it nearly destroyed us both, Gaia. It cost us your mother.

Meet me at the Mercer Street apartment at 2:00 P.M. Please, Gaia. So you can be safe. I'll wait for you there.

I love you.

Dad

Gaia crumpled the note and hurled it to the floor.

"What does it say?" Ed asked cautiously.

"Nothing," she whispered. With all her might and concentration, she detached herself from the emotions that were creeping up on her- insidiously, like tendrils of poisonous smoke under a closed door. "It doesn't say anything"

She turned away from Ed and marched into his bedroom. If time had seemed to expand before, it was now shrinking very rapidly. She was barely aware of dropping down into Ed's desk chair and slipping the CD into his computer. Ed was suddenly behind her, leaning over her on his crutches. Gaia double-clicked on the CD icon and waited numbly through the initial whirring of the CD-ROM drive.

Once again, she was entering a nightmare. Once again, she had just finished reading a note that challenged her entire perception of all recent events. And now she was supposedly about to learn the truth of Loki's grand plan. Maybe it was just too much to handle. Or maybe she was just getting fed up. Nightmare after nightmare after...

Her breathing slowed.

Images appeared on the screen, cutting through the psychological smog. Cloning. This was all about cloning. DNA strands flashed before her, along with lists of statistics on the success ratio of various cloning test groups. First sheep, then chimpanzees, and finally some human subject referred to only as "the Prototype" with whom they'd had "seventy-two percent success." As quickly as that information appeared, it vanished, replaced with a list of "Qualified Replicants." She shook her head. She didn't understand any of this. QR1: one hundred percent success, QR2: twenty-four percent success... and so on. All of it popped on and off the screen with nauseating rapidity: one big blur of equations and graphs and charts.

And then she stopped breathing altogether.

The screen went blank, except for the words "Optimal Operative." And that was when Gaia's confusion and anger and nausea crossed over into something more along the lines of violent illness.

That's me.

She watched in numb shock as her as her own face filled the screen: a photograph of her profile, morphing into nothing more than a diagram-a dissected 3-D slice of her brain put on display, along with detailed descriptions of her DNA and animated ill.u.s.trations of her physical skills. Another brain appeared, and then another. Gaia couldn't watch it anymore. Numbness thawed and melted into a full-blown rage. This had to be some kind of sick, sick joke- PRELIMINARY CLIENT RESPONSE.

Sandero Luminoso (Shining Path): Bid at $4 million USD (OFFER REJECTED) Hezbollah/Islamic Jihad: Bid at $25 million USD (OFFER PENDING) Colonel Vostok, Moscow: Bid at $45 million USD (OFFER ACCEPTED) American Knights of the Ku Klux Klan: Bid at $2 million USD (OFFER REJECTED) "Stop!" she heard herself scream. Her fist smashed the power b.u.t.ton of the computer, and the images instantly disappeared, leaving nothing but a small fading dot of light in the center of the screen. She kicked herself away from Ed's desk and stumbled out of his bedroom. Ed simply stared at her. Never before had she wanted to hurt somebody-anybody-so badly as she did at this moment. To decimate them, pound them into the floor, step on them, and rip them apart.

Because that was exactly what her father and Loki had done to her.

"Stop it!" she howled once more. The words echoed uselessly through Ed's empty apartment. There was no stopping any of it.

To: L From: QR3 Date: March 8 File: 002 Subject: Enigma Subject seen in WSP speaking to boy with crutches.

To: QR3 From: L Date: March 8 File: 002 Subject: Enigma a.s.sign project number and surveillance to boy. Continue Enigma's surveillance. PRIORITY: Collect all audio and video archives from the Messenger's surveillance. Deliver to the Ca.n.a.l Street Lab immediately.

GAIA.

I don't know who's more twisted, Loki or me.

Watching myself being dismantled piece by piece into ice-cold computer graphics-dissected into nothing more than vital statistics and strands of DNA... it wasn't just degrading. It was dehumanizing. Apparently, I'm neither Loki's daughter nor his niece. I'm his science project: a collection of genes and traits to be thrown into a magic Xerox machine so he can spit out some nice clean copies and sell them for a few million bucks. And then what? A yacht in the Caribbean? A villa in Monte Carlo? What will all that money buy? The whole thing would be really funny if it weren't real.

But the idea of being stripped of any humanity and dignity wasn't what made me so sick.

No, what made me so sick was my own reaction.

Which was this: I wasn't all that surprised.

Sure, there was the initial shock. The temper tantrum. Yeah, I may have broken a couple of things around Ed's house in a quasi-freak-out. (Okay, I guess "quasi" is a nice way of putting it.) But when it subsided, I realized that however demented the plan was, it didn't even feel all that strange to me-at least, strange, in the sense of being foreign. In fact, it made perfect sense.

Because I've never really felt like a person.

Yeah, that sounds melodramatic. Self-pitying, even. I admit it, even though I hate both melodrama and self-pity. But consider this: I've been watching people all my life, and they all seem like people. Take Heather and the FOHs in their Banana Republic sweater sets, with their Abercrombie-and-Fitch boyfriends. (Sam and Ed excepted, of course.) These are "people" in the sense that they conform to the norms of society. They worry about their grades, what their parents will say, what college they should go to, what beer they will drink once they get there. That's what "people" do, as far as I can tell.

And I've never felt remotely like one of them. Of that much I'm sure.

There was the training, for one thing. The relentless exercises in the backyard of our house in the Berkshires, the ones that honed me into a finely tuned fighting machine. There were the five years of shuffling from one foster home to another in the wake of my mother's murder. And... does it even need mentioning? Sure. Why the h.e.l.l not? After all, it's what makes me truly profitable. A commodity. That is my lack of fear, of course.

See? I have good reason for feeling the way I always have- less like a person and more like an experiment. Like someone up there is watching me, saying: "Let's turn her life to s.h.i.t, and then see what happens when we put her with a bunch of actual people. Will she be able to coordinate her clothes? Will she be able to stoop to their general intelligence level? Will she be able to go to school? Fall in love? Smile?"

You may notice that the answer to almost all of the above is no. And if not no, then at least not very well.

Which is my basic point. After all is said and done, I really don't seem to have developed into much of a "person"-at least not in clothes-matching or beer-drinking terms. So I really make more sense as Loki's science experiment. Because that is what I am. Project Gaia. An experiment. A failed experiment, to be more exact.

"ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?" What a ridiculous thing to say. Ed felt like smacking himself. Of course she wasn't all right. She'd just trashed his living room. Well, maybe not trashed. Just shattered a few ceramic pieces of c.r.a.p and pulled a few books off the shelf. He didn't care, obviously. But he had no idea how else to react. He stood on his crutches, staring at her motionless body sprawled limply on the couch.

Basket Case "I'm fine," Gaia lied.

Kudos. Yes. It was a worthy answer to his own stupid question. He sat down next to her, completely clueless as to what to say or do next, or even where to look. So he stared straight ahead. His mind kept flashing back to that computer screen-to those replicating images of her cross-sectioned brain. A brain worthy of being copied and sold. And what about his brain? One thing was for d.a.m.n sure: right now, his brain was way the h.e.l.l out of its league. Tom or Loki or whoever had met him in the park should not have given Ed Fargo the responsibility of pa.s.sing on this information. Gaia Moore existed in a world far beyond his understanding. He couldn't handle it....

Stop feeling sorry for yourself!

Ed's jaw tightened. A silent voice was shouting from deep inside him. And he welcomed it. This situation had nothing to do with him. This had everything to do with somebody who needed a lot of help-somebody who was counting on him to provide it.

"I'm so sorry," he said finally, staring down at the coffee table. He'd never felt so useless in his life. He'd never felt like such an ineffectual kid. That's what it was. The gravity of Gaia's circ.u.mstances had left Ed feeling like a child whose only real skill in life was his ability to slide down a fifteen-foot banister on a skateboard. And he couldn't even do that anymore. (Not that it would have helped if he could.) "I had no idea he was so... I mean, I didn't even know they could do that. I read about that lamb a couple of years back, but... Maybe it's just bulls.h.i.t. I don't..." He couldn't finish any thought.

Gaia shook her head slowly. "It's not bulls.h.i.t," she said flatly. "It's all real. I shouldn't have let you watch. The less you know, the better."

"Don't say that," Ed insisted. "I want to know everything, Gaia. I want to know everything about you. I-"

Whoa, there.

Luckily, the voice had spoken up again. And just in the nick of time. Out of nowhere, he'd almost blurted it: the truth about his feelings for her. The three big, bad words. The words he'd promised himself he wouldn't say until this whole thing was over and Gaia was safe again. Of course, he didn't believe that such a day would actually come to pa.s.s. But he could always delude himself. He was good at that, too.

"I... want to help you," he finished.

"You can't help me," she replied in a monotone. "No one can help me. That's what I've been trying to tell you. When people try to help me, they get hurt."

Ed forced a phony smile. "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence," he muttered.

Gaia glared at him. "Don't take it personally," she whispered. "I said no one, and I meant no one. It wouldn't matter who tried. You don't know what Loki is capable of. And he's not going to stop until he has me, Ed. That's a fact. I need to face it."

"Come on," Ed mumbled. He tried to effect a soothing tone, but he couldn't. He was succ.u.mbing to terror again. His insides felt as if they were being liquefied. "Stop talking like that. It's not-"

"I can't let him hurt you," she interrupted, turning to look him in the eyes. "I thought he'd already gotten to you, and if he had, I... I..." She turned away again.

Ed blinked. Miraculously, he forgot his fear. His heart pounded. He felt his entire body constrict. Gaia had just said the magic words: if and I. But he needed to hear the rest of it. He needed to hear it now- "You don't understand," she went on, emotion finally cracking her voice. "He can get to you, Ed. The same way he got to Sam. And I'm still not even sure if Sam is okay. I'm so worried about him, Ed." Sam?

That was one name he hadn't been expecting to hear. He slumped back into the couch, simultaneously trying to recover from the sting of it and trying to ignore it at the same time. Gaia had every right to be worried about Sam. Sure she did. He just hadn't expected to her to bring him up at this particular moment-the moment when Ed was on the verge of confessing the truth, once and for all.

Whatever. In all honesty, Ed was a little worried about Sam himself. At the very least, he sympathized with the guy. Ed was on the verge of a breakdown after only twenty-four hours of dealing with Gaia's completely screwed-up life. He couldn't imagine what Sam must have felt like after months of this. He must have been a freaking basket case.

"Where is Sam, anyway?" Ed managed to ask.

Gaia shrugged. "I don't know. I don't even know if he's okay. I mean, you've seen what Loki can do, Ed. I just want to hear something from Sam before I go. Just a few words, you know?"

Ed nodded, swallowing his jealousy. "Did you call him?" he asked.

"He's not home," she replied.

"What about e-mail?" Ed asked. "Maybe he e-mailed you."

Gaia frowned. Then the faint beginnings of a smile played on her lips. "I'm such an idiot," she whispered.

"Go," Ed ordered, pointing toward his bedroom. "Use my computer. I'll... make us some coffee." He choked over the words, but doggedly continued. "In the kitchen. You probably want some privacy."

Gaia stared at Ed for a moment. Once again, her expression was impossible to read. Then she leaned forward and hugged him quickly. "Thank you," she breathed, a warm glow emanating from her perfect blue eyes. With that, she ripped herself away from him and headed into his bedroom.

Ed dropped his head back on the couch with a thud. He hated himself at that moment. Not so much because he knew he had no business trying to protect Gaia. He hated himself at that moment because he was wishing Sam Moon had never been born. And that was a pretty awful wish to have.

SITTING BACK DOWN AT THE COMPUTER was a huge mistake. Gaia's eyes kept drifting toward the CD-ROM. She shook her head. She wanted to smash it, but throwing a fit again wouldn't do anybody any good. She wasn't a moth, and that particular drive wasn't a deadly flame. No. It was just a receptacle for information. She had to ignore it. Right.

Degenerate and Evil With her gaze firmly pinned to the screen, she gingerly pressed the power b.u.t.ton, then leaned back in the chair. Every time an image from the CD popped into her mind, she shook her aching head slightly and shifted her thoughts to Sam. It was just a matter of self-discipline. Her martial arts training often came in handy at times like these The Go Rin No Sho provided a template for ignoring distractions: "Anger tends to focus narrow consciousness. Allow the anger to slide through and pa.s.s over you....

Gaia sighed and clicked on the e-mail icon. Once again, Ed had found a way to ease her mind-to make her feel as though her life was not entirely out of control. It was an illusion, to be sure, but illusions counted for a lot. Her decision to show up at his door might have been selfish, and it was undoubtedly dangerous, but it was also the only maneuver that had prevented her from falling apart completely. And Ed had pointed her in the right direction.

In all the chaos, she had failed to consider the very likely possibility that Sam had written her an e-mail. After all, a personal meeting between them was obviously too dangerous. This would be the best way to make contact.

After the usual beeps and whirrs, she was connected. And when she saw that she'd gotten one new message, her heart nearly burst with relief.

"Yes," she whispered aloud. "Thank you, Sam-"

But Sam's address did not appear. Gaia cringed when she saw the ugly name that appeared instead, staring back at her in bold blue letters. She opened the message, anyway. She knew she had no choice.

From: [email protected] To: Time: 12:33 P.M.

Re: Are you all right?

Dearest Gaia, This is your Uncle Oliver trying to reach you by e-mail. I'm so worried about you. I haven't heard from you since our last meeting, and I've been unable to reach you. Gaia, I've received word that Loki is back in New York City. You are in danger. You must contact me so that I can get you to safety. The time has come to make your journey abroad, for your own protection. I fear you may not be the only one in jeopardy. I think your boyfriend Sam may be in real trouble as well. please, Gaia. Do not trust anything that Tom says or does. If you've made any contact with him, then you must understand that everything he says is a complete fabrication. That's the way Loki operates. He will stop at nothing to carry out his plan. You know this. You must call me or send an e-mail ASAP. I won't sleep until I know you're safe.

I love you,

Oliver

Gaia stared at the glowing screen. This was absurd. There was not one consistency, not one single truth she could cling to. No, from what she could tell, Oliver and Tom were one and the same. They were both degenerate and evil. Why were they doing this to her? Why were they forcing her to pick and choose the truth from the reams of c.r.a.p they both threw at her? At this point, she had no choice but to hate them both equally. It was the only way she could protect herself.

But what if Oliver was telling the truth?

Then Sam was still in danger. And that was not something Gaia could live with. Not after what she'd put him through already. She had to put all her own impending emotional wreckage on hold and get a message to Sam. That was the only priority. Her fingers danced over the keys. Oliver's message disappeared, and she began composing her message to Sam.