Jet was ready for a break. After thirty games of chess, April had won sixteen, which was very impressive considering she’d been afraid of the game.

“Let’s play another, Jet!” April said with excitement.

“I need a break. I’m getting hungry, and I’m also tired.”

“Okay, let’s get something to eat, and then start again.”

“Let’s see how we feel after our break.”

April gave Jet a robotic thumbs-up. Working with a cyborg was challenging, because she never seemed to get tired.

They walked down a long corridor. Jet couldn’t believe they were below the surface of an island; it was still all very surreal. At the end of the hallway, a self-service kitchen was available twenty-four hours a day. Several people were helping themselves to prepared meals. Jet and April grabbed trays and got in line.

Can she eat like a human does?

Jet wondered about this and many other things, but she didn’t want to upset April by asking; she was still in a fragile state of mind, according to Ash. It would take her a while to get adjusted.

The technician in front of them didn’t seem to want to bother with fetching a tray. She started balancing items atop the surface of her work laptop. An apple rolled off. April caught it before it hit the floor and placed it back on the laptop.

The technician backed up with a surprised look on her face. “Thanks,” she said.

“Great reflexes, April,” Jet remarked.

April nodded and smiled in acknowledgment.

“Are you hungry, April?”

“Yes—smelling the food is making my mouth water.”

She seems like an ordinary teenage girl, Jet thought.

Jet could see why Jeremiah wanted April to have a companion. Learning was an interactive experience, and having access to Jet as a mentor was what April was lacking. As far as Jet understood, transferring April’s consciousness into Delta created some emotional disconnects. Ash had described them as empathy receptors, but to Jet it seemed like April just needed a mentor.

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April reached for a banana, bumping into the lab technician ahead of them, who then tipped her balanced laptop full of food. A full bowl of chicken soup slid off and crashed onto the floor with a loud crack, and both April and Jet got splattered.

“I’m so sorry,” the lab technician said.

She was in her mid-twenties, tall, wore glasses, and had black hair. She got some napkins to wipe up the mess when April let out a blood-curdling scream. Jet looked at April’s exposed arm and hand; her skin had turned a nasty shade of crimson, and she noticed blisters starting to form.

“Get help,” Jet screamed to the technician, who didn’t move, frozen in place. Another technician was in the immediate area and came over.

“What happened?” the man asked.

“I’m . . . not sure. She started screaming, and—”

April cut Jet off with another scream. It sounded like someone was tearing her apart.

“Give me your phone,” Jet said.

The male lab technician handed her the phone without a second thought. Jet instinctively dialed 9-1-1. She received a message that the service was unavailable.

“9-1-1 isn’t available. What the hell is going on?” Jet asked no one in particular.

“Public emergency numbers don’t work here. Press the red button on the phone,” the man said.

In her haste, Jet hadn’t noticed the button until the technician pointed it out. She pressed it and put the phone to her ear.

“What is your emergency?” the operator asked.

“Delta—I mean, April, is screaming. We are in the cafeteria. Come quick.

“Stay with her—someone will be there,” the operator said.

After what seemed like an eternity to Jet, Ash appeared.

“Did she get wet?” Ash asked in an urgent tone.

“Someone dropped some soup, and it got all over us. The soup was hot but not scalding,” Jet said.

Ash produced a long syringe with some clear liquid.

“Hold her down,” Ash said.

Jet and the male lab technician could barely keep April restrained; she was very strong.

“We can’t hold her for much longer,” Jet pleaded.

“You won’t need to,” Ash said, and then she jammed the business end of the syringe into April’s neck.

After a few moments, April stopped screaming.

“What was that? Why did she have that reaction?” Jet asked.

“April had a rare genetic condition known as aquagenic urticaria. Any time she came in contact with an impure water source, the bacteria in the liquid would irritate the skin. April often broke out into hives. But . . . this reaction was unexpected.”

“Meaning, she didn’t act like this?” Jet asked.

“Correct. Something in her body chemistry has changed,” Ash confirmed.

April was out cold, and two men arrived with a stretcher. They gathered up April and left.

“I’m taking her for observation. These symptoms typically subside in a few hours, but this was a more severe reaction.”