His mind was a fog as he walked head down to the dining hall. Joel thought about the file from Honey. He had been aching to open it and more than anything now, he wanted to dash back to his room. See what she said. Maybe hear her voice. See her face even. He knew, though, the longer it took him to get to the dinner table, the more difficult it was going to be to explain where he’d been.

As he entered, Carter’s voice greeted him.

“Man, the girl I’ve got, that little fox? I cannot wait to get back to my room.” Carter shoveled food in his face as he bragged about the sim pet he had been assigned. “She is going to get herself recalibrated in a hurry. She’s going to experience whole new levels of completion.”

Molson said, “Don’t let us keep you.” Joel saw Ben’s eyes flash. Carter didn’t seem to notice, though.

“Sure, don’t worry. You won’t. But I want to know where our outlander has been. Did you get lost, swamp boy?” He grinned and chewed at the same time. To Joel, it didn’t seem like a great look. He flinched as Carter’s mouth opened. “Spill.”

“I just took my time coming.” Ben and Molson watched him. “I wanted a moment. That’s all.”

Carter laughed. “See, you’re too sentimental. You’re lucky to have gotten this far in the process.” He chewed as he talked. “Still, you get to watch more of my inevitable triumph. Lucky krill.”

Molson’s eyes part closed. Joel saw him restraining himself from shaking his head.

Ben spoke. “We’re each of us here with a skill-set, a different range of abilities.”

He looked around the table. “Angelo was a socializer. A team maker.” The way he spoke in the past tense disturbed Joel. “He would have forged us together into a force. If he’d had the chance.” Joel kept the memory of the colored lights and the liquids in the room he’d seen. The jars.

Ben said, “Hacker was a competitor. He was athletic and he had super sport-smarts.” The idea that had occurred to Joel before seemed to take on more solidity. Still he couldn’t believe it. But it fit the facts. So far.

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Ben jabbed his fork at Carter, “You’re a fighter. You would be a special ops recruit if you were a bit smarter.”

Carter’s eyes blazed. “The fuck you mean…” Ben held a hand up.

“Easy, Carter. Special ops are covert. You can’t be covert while you’re shouting all the time about how great you are.”

“How could I not, though?”

“Carter, while you’re alone, brushing your teeth, I bet you’re telling the mirror how great you look.”

“I don’t have to,” Carter shook his head. “The mirror would be telling me if it could get over the orgasm. So, where do you fit into this little scheme of yours,” Carter demanded, “Your magic map of the contestants. What’s your place in this big picture?”

“Me? I’m a schmoozer. A strategist. I’m a planner.”

Joel said, “You’re political.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Carter leered, “I don’t think he means that in a good way.” Joel pressed his lips together. It would be great if Carter could just get out of his own way once in a while, he thought. And everyone else’s.

Ben squeezed his lips together, “Nobody ever means ‘political’ in a good way.” He looked around the table again. “But it is what it is. So we’re all here with our own specialties. All except for you, Joel.”

Joel noticed that nobody seemed ready to challenge Molson with what his specialism might be.

Carter grinned, “Webby has been our natural leader.”

“No.” Ben sighed. “Joel has led, but only because he’s been right. Could all have been good guesswork so far. As soon as he guesses wrong or leads someone down the wrong tunnel, that’s over.”

“It’s true,” Carter said, “You have been good at reading the games but, really, I think you’ve only gotten there a little bit quicker than the rest of us.” He leaned across the table, “Maybe Ben’s onto something. What’s your specialism, Joel?”

Joel’s fingers spread in front of him and he shook his head. He gave it some thought. “Nothing that’s shown up here, to be honest with you.” Crazy as it seemed, he thought that the others, Ben at least, was coming around to the same idea that had sprung up in his own mind.

He said, “I’m pretty good at code, and I’m an ace with hardware. Peripherals, input devices. Biofeedback.” And he lifted his eyebrows.

“Cool,” Ben said, “But you’re not going to get a chance to tamper with any hardware here, are you? That’s not going to win any of these competitions.” Joel saw that all three of them were looking at him now. And maybe they were starting to see the idea that he’d been avoiding.

Ben came close to it when he said, “Somehow, it’s like we’re all here in a circle around you. Like we’re your team. Why is that? What’s going on?”

He remembered the Gabriel telling him that the process isn’t what it seemed. The first thing he thought then was, It seems like a competition.