"Yes, I have an iScroll patch." I show him my palm.

"So do I," he says, showing me his. "I just wanted to make sure that's all it was. I have one last question about the uploading." He steps closer to me and whispers, "All that time alone, the waiting. Was it painful?"

Dr. Gatsbro intervenes, patting me on the shoulder. "No, of course not. There is no sensory input, so--"

"No." Mr. Jafari swiftly raises his hand in a stopping motion. "I want to hear it from him." He lowers his hand and repeats, "Was any of it painful, Locke?"

No light.

No touch.

Only my thoughts. All the steps that couldn't be taken back. All the wondering. All the guilt about what couldn't be undone. And then anger for a sentence that didn't fit the crime. Throw in some hopelessness, and it was like acid sizzling over eyes that wouldn't shut. Centuries of it that I could at least share with Kara when we could share nothing else. Painful does not begin to describe it.

I look at Kara.

Tell him. Tell him about our tea party in hell.

I look at Dr. Gatsbro, his lower lip twitching, as he struggles to be silent the way Mr. Jafari requested. An image of my father flashes through my mind, my father biting his lower lip and struggling for words to tell me that my brother was gone and never coming home again. I was only twelve at the time. I didn't understand about leaving yet and the changes my brother's absence would bring. I didn't know about the power or the pressure yet. But I feel the pressure and the power of my reply now, like if I say the wrong thing, we might all disappear the same way my brother did. I can't see Dr. Gatsbro anymore--only my father trying not to break.

I finally shake my head. "Sorry it's taking me so long to answer, but I barely remember it. Really," I say. "I guess it's like Dr. Gatsbro says. Without any sensory input, it's more like a dreamworld, or limbo. No pain. Sorry, I wish I could remember more."

I'm convincing. For once, utterly convincing. I lift the corner of my mouth in the grin that puts Dr. Gatsbro at ease. It works with Mr. Jafari too. He smiles and nods. "Excellent," he says. I watch Dr. Gatsbro's chest and shoulders drop half an inch.

Good boy, Locke. You're sure to get a good treat for that.

I look sharply at Kara. I can't seem to shut her out today. She is finding secret ways back in.

Jafari turns to Dr. Gatsbro. "I think perhaps we need to talk in more depth about the future of Gatsbro Technologies."

"Of course. Kara and Locke must leave anyway for their studies with Hari."

Mr. Jafari turns to us. "It has been inspiring to meet you both, and as we say in my country, I wish you long roads of sunshine and short paths of trouble." He gently bows and takes Kara's hand one last time, pressing it to his lips. Kara nods, acknowledging his kiss with a seductive smile and glance from beneath lowered lashes. She even manages to make her cheeks tinge pink, when I know every drop of blood running through her is as cold as ice. He takes my hand next, this time not searching for bones but looking directly into my eyes, perhaps looking for any last traces of regret. My year of study and 500 billion biochips have given me skills I never had before. I control every twitch of my face, every pause, every contraction of my pupils, to mask what he is looking for. It is not for sharing.

"I hope we'll get to visit again, Mr. Jafari," I say. "Enjoy your stay in our country."

Dr. Gatsbro puts his arms around our shoulders and walks us to the door. "Thank you for your refreshing insights, children."

We're older than you, ass**le.

Kara reaches up and kisses Dr. Gatsbro on the cheek, looking over his shoulder at Mr. Jafari as she does so. "Our pleasure, Doc." She has never kissed his cheek before, and it throws him off, but only for a moment. He smiles and sends us on our way.

Kara is right. We're not children. But we're not filled with the wisdom of the ages, either. Even after decades of thinking and thinking and thinking, I don't feel wise at all. It's other people who make us wise, and I haven't known nearly enough.

Chapter 10

Kara is unusually silent as we play boules. She is not usually one for games, but she immediately suggested a match on the lawn when we left the solarium, insisting that Hari and his lessons could wait. Miesha followed us out, bringing along drinks, even though Kara growled that we didn't need any. Kara watches Miesha more carefully than the ball, which she flings carelessly across the lawn.

"Why did you even suggest playing if you aren't going to take it seriously?" I reach for a ball on the rack. Kara glares at me and then looks back at Miesha.

"We have to get out of here, Locke. Today." Her voice is low, and her lips barely move.

I take aim. "What are you talking about? We can't just leave. When Dr. Gatsbro thinks we're ready--"

She leans close, her voice a bitter hush. "For God's sake, wake up! He will never be ready for us to leave! Don't you get it?"

I look at her and frown. I am tired of the theatrics. "Get what?"

I begin to throw my ball, but she knocks it out of my hand. "We're floor models! That's why he brought Jafari here!"

"Floor models? For what? Give it a rest, Kara." I take another ball from the rack and throw it across the lawn. It bumps Kara's out of bounds.

She grabs my arm, digging her fingernails into my skin. Her voice turns flat and cool as she spits out her words. "You are so naive, sometimes you make me sick. You swallow every hook like a big, stupid fish. Why do you think Jafari wanted to know if it was painful? He wasn't concerned about you. He wanted to know what it would be like for him."