Gretta slid her arm across Zack's back and rested her head on his, running her fingers up and down his torso. She was taller than him -- and most of the men -- by at least a few inches.

Clementine stifled her smile as he batted away her hand. Gretta winced, bringing her wrist to her chest and cradling it for a moment. He hadn't hit it that hard. Maybe she'd injured it during the riot.

"She's a friend from my high school," said Zack, stepping in front of the other man holding her.

"He said she's a volunteer," the man said, with no hint of apology in his tone.

"She's not," Zack snapped.

Gretta's eyes narrowed, and for the first time she cast a long, appraising gaze at Clementine.

I think I liked it better when she didn't look at me.

"Who is she?" Gretta repeated, sounding like she actually cared about the answer this time.

Fear flashed in Zack's eyes. Everyone in the cavernous room was watching them, waiting for his answer. Clementine waited too. If he told Humans Right who she really was, then she might be in worse trouble as Tierney's sister. But was that really possible, considering where she was currently headed?

Zack met her eyes for a quick moment, and she thought she saw comfort in them. He would help her. He made a mistake joining Humans Right, but surely he saw that now. He would help her escape. She knew he would.

"She's Clementine Dawson," he said. "Tierney Dawson's sister."

Gretta's eyes lit up at the news, but then darkened as she returned her gaze to Zack.

"You know the Dawsons, and never told us?" she asked. Zack's fear returned, but Gretta only snuggled up to him again. "Is that why you volunteered to break that window? And why you never followed through on kidnapping her? Because she's your friend?"

His obvious guilt confessed his crimes, although Clementine still couldn't believe it. Zack threw that nasty note through their window? And what was that about kidnapping?

"It don't matter," said Ugly, though he didn't sound particularly confident in his assessment. "I got her. She's mine."

Gretta tapped him on the nose. "Sorry, Rhett, but this gal's mine. She's too important to stay hidden away in your room."

"But --"

"You're more than welcome to keep whatever that is," she said, cutting him off and gesturing to the cello.

Ugly -- he didn't deserve as elegant a name as Rhett -- was turning a humorous shade of red. But after surveying the now 150 or so men hanging on Gretta's every word, he flung Clementine's arm down and stormed toward the stage.

Clementine ripped the sour hat from her mouth before anyone could grab her free arm. But the firm hand that remained on her served as a reminder that she wasn't completely free. Not yet.

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in joining us?" asked Gretta, moving closer to her and lifting a hand to Clementine's face. Clementine flinched, and Gretta's eyes filled with what might have passed for genuine sympathy if she hadn't been so callous only minutes before.

"Poor baby," she said, tucking a strand of Clementine's hair behind her ear. "You've been through a lot." Her hand lingered by Clementine's face, settling on the bare skin at the crook of her neck. Zack's teeth marks had faded over the past week and a half, but Clementine knew the traces of a bruise remained.

"Your country needs you," Gretta continued. "Your race needs you. Like so many others, your sister has been tricked by the aliens into believing that they're here to help us. If you, someone she loves, tells her that she's wrong, and that they're using her to lead her people into slavery, she might start to break free from the lies she's been ensnared by. Will you do that? Will you save your sister, by saving humanity?"

Everyone around her was nodding or muttering some soft word of agreement. Even Zack was watching her hopefully. Did he really believe this stuff?

You're all nuts.

That's what she wanted to say. Instead, she said, "How can you be so sure? Have any of you even met any of the Relicans? I have. Three, to be exact." Clementine looked around, hoping to change minds, although she knew it would likely take more than her words to make such a monumental shift.

"They're nice people," she continued. "Well, one wasn't so nice, but the other two are. And they've done nothing but try to protect us. They saved us from the asteroid and --"

"Did they?" someone asked. "What proof do we have that Earth was actually in danger?"

"You're here," said Clementine, "so you obviously believed them."

"We had to come to save humanity from the Relicans," said Gretta. Both of her hands were now on Clementine's shoulders, her thumbs lightly rubbing the skin next to the straps of her tank top.

"Right. That's why," scoffed Clementine before she could stop herself. "As if supremacists like you would pass up a perfectly habitable globe where you could fulfill your dream of creating the perfect race or whatever."

Gretta's hands pinched her shoulders painfully, but Clementine didn't stop. "You're the ones endangering humanity. Setting a fire inside a space ship? Which of you dumbasses came up with that brilliant scheme?"

"Throw her downstairs," Gretta ordered, shoving her backwards.

Clementine fell against a sea of bodies. Multiple hands grabbed for her, but the two men who had originally stepped in to help were now walking her towards the stage.

"There are a lot of white men in this room," Clementine yelled. "I think you came along because there weren't enough fertile women to ensure genetic diversity for your master race. Maybe you guys have more in common with the Relicans than you think."

"Shut up," said one of the men.

She looked over her shoulder and saw that Zack's back was turned to her. Fear stabbed her heart. What if he didn't try to help her? Had she said too much? Had she been too insulting? She wanted to call out to him, but wasn't sure if that would be a good idea. If it was obvious that they cared about each other, Gretta may not let him get close to her cell. Or wherever she was going. Where was she going?

The men brought her through a small door beside the ramp and into the storage area beneath the stage. The space was surprisingly bright, with strings of yellow lighting snaking along the ceiling that was too low for the men to stand completely upright. Unlike the empty storage space in her own auditorium, this one was full of suitcases. Some lined the walls while others were stacked to form private alcoves. The room smelled like sour laundry, and Clementine wondered if any of the clothes in those suitcases had been washed recently.

She was led to the far corner of the room, rounding a stack of suitcases that had hidden another captive. Although she shouldn't have been surprised, the sight of the man stopped her in her tracks.

"Vice President Grant?"

Inlan sat in the crawl space above the auditorium, watching Clementine disappear beneath the stage. He would stun them all and carry her to safety if he could, but not only was his mechasuit not designed for that kind of assault, he hadn't been able to deactivate the magnetic program, so his uniform was currently useless, tied around his waist.

The yellow-haired woman, Gretta, had watched Clementine also, but now she turned away and said, "Time to record. Zack, man the camera, will you?"

Had Clementine known that her boyfriend was a part of this group? Judging from her harsh words for their philosophy, Inlan guessed not. He smiled as he recalled her defiance, and her defense of the Relican Squad. He guessed the one Relican she'd met who "wasn't so nice" was Onaka, although he had to admit a small part of him feared she meant him. He hadn't seen her since the day they'd kissed. Did she think he had forced her to do that? He couldn't remember who moved first, but it may have been him.

Inlan hung his head, certainty settling in. He'd told her about how bronzes can't control themselves, and then proved it by kissing her. That must have been why she was so quick to inform him of her relationship with Zack. She was scared of him.

"Quiet, please." The sound of Gretta's voice drew him back to the situation at hand. She and Zack had set up in a corner of the auditorium where a black sheet had been adhered to the wall. Zack stood a few feet away from her, holding up one of their telecommunication devices -- phones, Tierney had called them.

The men in the auditorium obeyed Gretta's order. Most of them were lying down on the padded benches, but others were either going backstage or through the same door Clementine had been led through.

Was one of them the man who had disappeared that night? Inlan had recognized Gretta as the woman he chased as soon as he heard her voice. She was also favoring one hand over the other at times, clearly still dealing with her lingering injury from a week ago. But that knowledge brought no other answers with it.

"To all of humanity," Gretta began in a loud, clear voice. "What began as a peaceful protest ended in tragedy. A Relican has once again killed one of the people they claim to be protecting. One of their mercenaries murdered an American police officer."

What? When did this happen? Inlan wished even more that he could contact the Irral.

Why did I have to tamper with my mechasuit?

"When will humanity see the truth?" Gretta continued. "How many bodies does it take to prove that they care nothing for us? Anyone not fighting against the Relicans is complicit in the subjugation of our entire race. Humans Right will not stand idly by and let this happen. We will continue to fight for the safety and security of our people. Though suspicious, we have given the Relicans multiple chances to prove that they are indeed our allies, but they repeatedly refuse our request to be allowed access to their ships and records. And what reasons do they give for hiding the truth? They say that it is for our own protection, that we are too simple-minded to handle their technology, and that they don't want to be tainted by our primitive sensibilities."

Inlan frowned. She was twisting all of the statements Chief Raleth had made in response to their demands.

"And yet, after denying us access to their ships, they are invading our home, using a false claim of imminent alien threat as an excuse to establish an oppressive military presence here on the cart."

False claim? They didn't even believe in the Vreem?

"It has been three weeks since we first issued our request, and we have received nothing but threats, resistance, and lies from both the Relicans and the American government. So Humans Right has once again been forced to take matters into our own hands. We have taken over the nerve center of the cart. Humans are again in control of humanity's future. You may have noticed a blip in transport availability for a brief window yesterday -- that was us, to prove that what we say is true. If a delegation from Humans Right is not allowed permanent habitation rights on every Relican vessel, and if those representatives are not provided full access to any and all information they deem necessary for securing humanity's safety, then we will have no choice but to activate the cart's defense systems and destroy the Relican fleet. The cart has its own propulsion and navigation, and we are more than capable of getting ourselves to Lota."

The air in the ceiling crawl space had grown oppressively thick, making it hard for Inlan to breathe. Or may it was his panic that was suffocating him.

They took over cart control? How could they do that? The interfaces were all in Relican. And how did they even know where control was?

If they truly did have access -- and the lack of transports other than those occupied by their people did support their claim -- then they could cause a lot of damage to both themselves and the cart if they weren't careful. That was the main reason why Chief Raleth hadn't wanted Earthans poking around anywhere other than the sanctioned public spaces. If one of them accidentally deactivated the atmospheric controls, or adjusted the temperature settings, the entire population could be killed.

Gretta finished up her message and handed the phone to a nearby woman. "Bring that to our contact tomorrow. Let's give them all a day to wonder about the transports."

Ah. That explained why she said the transport malfunction was yesterday -- they weren't releasing the video wave until tomorrow.

"Maybe they'll even blame the Relicans," she added with a quick laugh, then took Zack's hand and led him backstage.

She seemed exceptionally physical with Zack, as compared with the rest of the men. Did that mean he and Clementine were no longer paired? He had referred to her as simply a friend, rather than girlfriend, which was the reciprocal term for boyfriend.

Inlan shook the thoughts from his mind and closed the hatch. He needed to focus if he was going to get Clementine out of there and reclaim cart control. If they were distributing their message immediately, Inlan would have left control to the Squad; they would undoubtedly swarm the center as soon as they learned Earthans had gained access to it. But with the transports only offline for a short period of time, it was unlikely that the Squad would do more than run a remote diagnostic -- if they were even notified of the problem at all.

He crawled back to the ladder and was about to go down when he heard footsteps in the access passage below. A beam from someone's flashlight appeared, and Inlan barely leaned back from the shaft in time before the light shone upwards.

A heavy sigh came from below, and the light returned to the corridor, but there were no more footsteps. The man was apparently standing guard.

Inlan almost sighed too. If he had his stunner, he could easily incapacitate him and climb down. Without it, he wasn't sure how to get down quietly enough to take him by surprise. If there was a guard on this side, there was undoubtedly one on the other side too. It was a long drop to jump, and without his mechasuit to give him protection, the friction from a sliding descent would burn his hands and feet. Inlan's only hope was for the man to leave his station.

A voice whispered something in the passage below, but it was too soft for Inlan to understand the words.

"What do you want, Rhett?" asked the guard. His voice was loud enough to travel easily up the shaft.

Inlan balled his hands into fists at the name of the man who had taken Clementine hostage.

"I want the girl," he said, closer to the shaft. "I got her fair as fair."

"Gretta wants her," said the guard. "Go get another one."

While Inlan had been glad to see some of the men in the auditorium balk at Rhett's actions -- at least until they thought she was an Asteroid Mate volunteer -- this guard clearly had no qualms about them.

"I want that one," Rhett insisted. "She'd be fun."

The smile in his voice made Inlan sick. The man's intentions were obvious. Once again Inlan wondered what had merited the Earthan relocation. If they would subjugate and assault their own people in such a vile way, they were even more primitive than he had thought.

"I could let you take a spin," Rhett added. "After me, o' course."

The guard remained silent, and Inlan was sure he would reject such a grotesque suggestion.

"It has been a while," muttered the guard. "But what am I supposed to do? They've got her down with the VP."

So the Vice President was there. Inlan would have to get him out too. Somehow.

"I bet you could convince whoever's on schedule for tonight to switch with you," said Rhett. "Then you could sneak her out and back here to my place."

"What about Mike?" asked the guard. "He'll be on watch out here tonight."

"He owes me a favor. I'll get him to look the other way. She'll be back safe and sound by morning. No one'll know."

Safe and sound were not the words Inlan would use, but this plan might work in his favor. If Clementine was currently being held with several people around her, extracting her would be difficult. But if these two rooters -- he didn't mind applying that offensive term to the men below -- were going to bring her to an isolated location, that would make saving her far easier. He just had to wait until tonight.

Inlan settled back into the tube, using his mechasuit as a cushion on the uncomfortable grate floor.

At least it was good for something.