“What are you afraid of?” Monty asked. “Us? Humans?”

Simon released him and stepped back, shaking his head. “Fear you? You’re going to be as good as extinct soon. Why should we fear you?”

Monty swallowed hard. “Did Meg tell you that?”

“No. Jean did.”

Gods above and below.

Vlad stepped out of the back of the store. “Simon, Meg was looking for you.” He glanced at the counter. “She’s at the Liaison’s Office now. You need to convince her to go home, let someone else take care of the mail and packages today. The humans will be talking. She doesn’t need to hear more than she already knows.”

Simon looked around, as if wondering why he was in the bookstore. “I didn’t mean to be gone long. I . . .” He headed for the back of the store, but he stopped and wouldn’t meet Monty’s eyes. “We learn from other predators. Remember that, Lieutenant.”

Then he was gone, and Monty was left alone with Vlad. “Is there anything any of us can do to help?”

Vlad walked over to the checkout counter. He took one copy of the Lakeside News off the stack, folded it, and placed it under the counter. “You could get rid of the rest of these. I’d rather not put them in our recycling bin. Too much chance of someone seeing what they shouldn’t.”

“Of course.” He’d take them to the station. He didn’t think Eve Denby would want the front-page photo in her recycling bin either. “Anything else?”

“What else do you think the police can do?”

“I wasn’t asking as a police officer.”

Silence. Then Vlad said softly, “Ask again in a couple of days.”

Monty left the bookstore, dumped the newspapers in the backseat of the patrol car, then walked across the street to the Denbys’ apartment.

Mother Court was in full swing at the breakfast table as the young wrongdoers tried to get their sentence reduced.

Wrong day to ask about watching TV, Monty thought.

“No means no,” Eve said.

“But I got hurt,” Robert protested, displaying his scabbed elbows and knees before pointing out the bruises caused by Nathan’s teeth.

“If there are any further outbursts over your sentence, you will be held in contempt of court, and ‘no dessert’ will be added to your sentence.”

The girls, Monty noticed, were keeping very quiet. And judging by the look in Lizzy’s eyes, he needed to have a talk with her about the injury she might cause if she whacked someone—like Robert—with Grr Bear since her new buddy had a wooden head and paws.

Then again, the boy was being a bit woodenheaded too.

“As your father, and your attorney, I advise you to accept the sentence you already have and not give the court any reason to add to it,” Pete said.

That ended all discussion. Monty accepted a cup of coffee and a piece of toast—and wondered how much longer those things would be an ordinary part of a meal.

After the children went to their rooms to make their beds and do a general tidying for inspection, Eve poured more coffee for the three adults.

“We heard,” Pete said quietly. “Saw just enough of the morning news to . . . Gods.”

“Anything we can do?” Eve asked.

“A question to ask in a couple of days.” Monty rose and put his cup and plate in the kitchen sink. A moment later, Eve stood beside him.

“What happens in a couple of days?”

He looked out the window at a pleasant summer day. Then he sighed. “I wish I knew.”

CHAPTER 40

Moonsday, Juin 25

Computers in select newsrooms in each region of Thaisia chugged away as they downloaded a digital photo sent from the newspaper in Bennett. When the download was complete and a copy printed out for editors to review, most laughed harshly or swore or looked at coworkers and said, “What the . . . ?”

The photo was of a sign made from old boards nailed to a post. Painted in red were the words WE LERNED FROM YU.

Intuit editors had a very bad feeling when they saw the photo, and they sounded an alarm to all Intuit communities within reach. Most of the editors in charge of the newspapers in human cities decided it was some kind of prank to waste front-page space, but some sent a reporter to check out the potential story.

And a few television stations, after receiving the photo, sent reporters and cameras to Bennett to find out about the sign as a follow-up story to the Humans First and Last movement’s triumphant land reclamation.

CHAPTER 41

Windsday, Juin 27

A young television reporter watched the land rush by as the train sped toward the town of Bennett.

“Think that’s the same sign?” another reporter asked, pointing out the window.

WE LERNED FROM YU.

“Didn’t learn much,” someone else in the car said with a sneer.

The young reporter looked around the car and frowned. Reporters and their cameramen from various newspapers and television stations were the only passengers. Sure, there had been a travel lockdown in the Northeast by the loony governor, but that was over and done—just some kind of political maneuver. And there had been other people boarding the train in Shikago. Maybe the railroad had reserved a car for reporters?

WE LERNED FROM YU.

The reporter checked his watch. Another of those signs and the Bennett railway station just minutes away now.

Funny how the Bennett newspaper editor who had sent that first photo hadn’t responded to e-mails or phone calls from any of the TV stations or newspapers that sent out reporters for the follow-up story. It was almost like the man couldn’t be bothered with them after sending out that lure.