framed glasses, dressed in a blue oxford shirt with the collar open, stepped into the doorway. “Come in,” he said, motioning to the room behind the curtain.

Reese and David walked into the store’s back office. There were a couple of metal desks pushed against the walls, with stacks of ledgers on them. On the wall across from the curtained entryway was another door, guarded by a second burly man in a suit. In the center of the square room was a round table and four chairs. Three were empty, but a middle-aged man with steel-gray hair sat in the fourth. He was dressed in a black suit and had a hawklike nose and blue eyes that regarded the two of them coolly as they entered the room.

“Please have a seat,” he said. “I’m Charles Lovick, and this is my colleague Alex Hernandez.” He gestured to the man in glasses, who took the chair next to Lovick.

David and Reese sat down, and Reese noticed their chairs had been placed far enough apart that she couldn’t touch David without being obvious. “What exactly do you want with us?” Reese asked, eyeing Lovick and Hernandez nervously.

A thin smile pulled up the corners of Lovick’s mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. “I work for an organization called the Corporation for American Security and Sovereignty. You won’t have heard of us.”

“I thought you were on the board of Allied Research Associates,” Reese said.

Lovick seemed impressed by her research. “I am. But my work at ARA is not what brings me here tonight.”

“What do you do at this corporation?” David asked.

“What I’m about to tell you is highly classified,” Lovick said. “It is in your best interests to repeat this information to no one.” He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, and Reese saw the glint of gold cuff links. “In 1947, when the Imria arrived in the United States, an organization was formed to manage our relationship with them. To make sure that our nation’s engagement with the Imria remained consistent regardless of changing presidential administrations. That organization is the Corporation for American Security and Sovereignty. CASS. It is run by a board of seven individuals selected from business, defense, and the like. I joined the board of CASS twelve years ago. We oversee a variety of initiatives, including Project Blue Base, which you became familiar with last month.”

“I thought that was run by EC and R,” Reese said.

Lovick nodded. “EC and R managed the day-to-day details of Project Blue Base, but ultimately, Blue Base reports to us. Many so-called black operations report to us, not the commander in chief. Unfortunately EC and R— and Blue Base—botched their assignment with regard to the two of you. The task force that was assigned to oversee Blue Base has been replaced. Now that the existence of the Imria has been revealed to the public, our strategy has changed, and I’d like to invite you to work with us.”

“With CASS?” David asked.

“Yes. The two of you have been treated with Imrian science without your consent. They took advantage of you, and I imagine you must have many questions about what the Imrian treatment did to you.”

“They told us it was the only way to save our lives,” Reese said.

“Do you believe them?” Lovick asked, looking directly at her.

Reese tried not to flinch. “I don’t know.”

“And what about you?” Lovick asked David.

David’s shoulders stiffened. “I don’t know either.”

Lovick folded his hands on the round table. He wore a fat gold wedding band on his left hand and a black signet ring on his right. “The Imria can be very, very convincing. When I first decided that it was imperative that we meet, I knew that I might have a difficult time convincing you to join us. You’ve had a regrettable experience with Blue Base, and that must color your impression of your government and, by extension, what CASS does for your government. However, yesterday at the press conference on Angel Island, the Imria revealed something that they have kept secret from us for sixty-seven years.

“For nearly seven decades, the Imria have told us that they wanted to research ways to lengthen human lives, to help us become healthier individuals. They said they came to the United States in 1947 because we were the sole remaining stable nation on Earth after World War Two. They flattered us, and we believed them at first. But over the years, it has become increasingly clear that they have been lying about their true purpose in coming here. They have been conducting unauthorized experimentation on human subjects—including the two of you. We have never been able to determine why. Some of us believed that perhaps they were studying us in preparation for an attack.”

“Colonization?” Reese said, remembering the protesters’ chants.

Lovick looked irritated. “That is a popular theory, although I dislike the melodramatic nature of the word. Project Blue Base was one initiative aimed at defending us against a potential Imrian attack. We planned to use their biotechnology against them. And then yesterday at their press conference, they revealed their secret: their ability to share consciousness. They made it sound so wholesome, as if it were the secret to happiness.” There was a deeply sardonic tone to his words. “Do you know what it really means?” He leaned forward. “For one thing, adaptation, as they call it, is simply a pretty spin on what amounts to erasure. They say they want to give us this ability, but by changing us—by adapting us—they erase our humanity. If we become them, we lose ourselves.”

Reese hadn’t thought of it like that before. She wasn’t sure if she agreed with him, but his words still sent a chill through her.

“It also means that they have kept this ability of theirs secret from us for sixty-seven years,” Lovick said. “They have lied directly to us, face-to-face, over and over again. They have told us that they are honest; that they do not keep secrets from us. And yet they clearly do.” He paused and gave each of them a penetrating glance. “Why would they keep this ability—which they described as foundational to who they are as a people—why would they keep it a secret?”

Reese didn’t have an answer for him. Dread made her stomach sink. Do you believe him? she thought, hoping David could hear her. What if he’s lying too? She didn’t know if David understood. All she felt was a burst of frustration, and she couldn’t tell if it came from him or from within herself.

“I know that the Imria have already offered to help you learn how to use these abilities they’ve given you. Your adaptation,” Lovick continued. “I know, also, that you have accepted their offer.”

As far as Reese knew, the Imria hadn’t said anything about that publicly, so Lovick must have spies.

“But now that you know that the Imria have lied for so long—and about such a huge thing—how can you trust them to help you?”

“We don’t trust them,” Reese burst out. “But what choice do we have? We don’t know how to use this adaptation, and we need to learn how to use it. Otherwise, it’s going to drive us crazy.”

Lovick nodded. “We can also help you.”

“How?” David asked. “You just said you didn’t know about this adaptation until yesterday. How can you do anything?”

“We are not powerless,” Lovick answered smoothly. “We have decades of our own research into the Imria that we can draw from. But what I am offering you is more than mere training. You should continue with that, because it gives you the chance to use your access to the Imria to help your fellow humans. We only ask that you share the knowledge you gain from them with us.”

“You want us to become spies for you?” Reese asked. The room was warm, and as she gave the guard a surreptitious glance, she felt a bit claustrophobic.

Spy is not the right word,” Lovick objected. “The two of you have become very important to us.”

“To CASS,” Reese clarified.

“To humanity,” Lovick said. “You are our bridge to the Imria. You are the only ones who can show us what their sharing of consciousness really means. Is it truly a positive thing? Because it could have serious, dire consequences when it comes to security and intelligence. They may have a special word for it—”

Susum’urda,” Reese said.

“Yes. Do you know what it sounds like to me? Mind reading. Consider what it could mean for an entire race to have the ability to read our minds. Consider your own lives, your families, your nation. You are the only humans

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