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my lips.
    “Honor?” I ask. She nods seriously, and motions toward some old photographs hanging on the wall. I recognize the younger Myra immediately—that same, tight gaze staring out from a group of men and women in flowing clothing, their heads shaved bald and bodies covered in gentle, spiraling tattoos. They’re monks of the Temple, wasteland dwellers who live in the mountains and survive through the hardest of conditions without any technology. I don’t need to continue questioning when I return my gaze to this Myra, older, harder, but that stern gaze filled with a different kind of wisdom.
    “I lived with the Monks for a time after Raul took over the Corp. Their ways are…so different from ours. When I left I vowed to use the techniques and wisdom I learned from them to shape the Corp in a new light. Obviously you know that Ichton is my only domain, but you’ll soon see how the teachings can change the way we fight, and if we’re diligent, even the way we exist,” she says. I absorb the information slowly. According to Rupert the Temple Monks are savages who kill without feeling and live like animals. But in this photograph, they don’t seem that way at all. They seem at peace, something I can’t say I’ve ever achieved for myself.
    “When is the debriefing?” I ask. Again, she flashes the smallest of smiles. She pushes a piece of paper from her desk toward me.
    “So you’ll join us?” she replies. I nod, scanning the contract quickly. It’s exactly as I’d specified, and the pay’s more than enough. I use a shiny black pen to scrawl my signature quickly. She snaps the paper back and files it in her drawers.
    “Good. We can always use an experienced Hunter from Central on our team. I’d advise that you figure out the building for now and acquaint yourself with your colleagues. Grier Lan is our top Hunter and I’m sure she’ll be picking your ear for some tips from the legendary Madden sister,” she says. I want to punch her. Even mentioning that word brings me screeching back to unsafe memories.
    Sister .
    “Sure,” I reply through gritted teeth.
    “Tomorrow we’ll hold the debriefing with the rest of the team, first thing in the morning,” she says.
    “In this office?” I ask.
    “Level Nine. It’s exclusive to Hunters. Just show the guard your Corp card and he’ll let you in.”
    Corp Card. Hunters. Debriefings. These words bring me back to the days when these were all normal phrases for me. Suddenly this office makes me uncomfortable, cold, and I can’t shake the stares from the photograph.
    “Cool. Is that it?” I ask. I’m itching to get out of here.
    “One more thing, Miss Madden,” she says, looking at me expectantly. Ah, here’s the clause in my contract.
    My instinct is to leap from my chair and run out of here but deep down I know she’ll just track me down anyway. It’s not like she doesn’t know where I live, who my friends are and every possible location I could be. I take a deep breath and try to relax.
    “Blood sample, right?” I say. She nods ever so serenely, like sticking a needle into me isn’t the end of the world. You’d think I’d be used to this. For more than ten years I gave blood to the Corp monthly without a second thought, but now even the idea of a needle causes my heart to beat wildly. Myra pulls a portable unit out of her desk and instructs me to hold out my arm. By now I’m already hyperventilating, imagining the horror of that first prick.
    “I need you to relax, Miss Madden,” she murmurs as she comes at me with that damn needle in her hand like it’s a machete. I try to back away but the woman’s quick. She’s got that thing stuck into my arm before I can react and in seconds the world fades around me yet again.

Chapter Six
    In my dream I’m at a ball, garbed in fine silk and gentle dancing shoes. Glittering around me, the Elder Corp ballroom’s aglow with hundreds of tiny lights strung around tall pillars. I’m surrounded by