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Everything is just insane right now, Jake. Everything is crazy.

But I do have some good news. It turns out my dad is going to have a little time off to see me. Just an overnight thing, but still, I think it could really do some serious wonders for me to go see him.

So the thing is, that means I'm going to be gone overnight and through tomorrow. But when I get back, if this little trip goes the way I hope it goes, then I think I will definitely be a lot more clearheaded than I have been the last few days.

What I mean is, I really want to finish our conversation, Jake. I really do. And if this trip goes the way I think it will go, then the first thing I want to do when I get back is finish that conversation. Seriously. FIRST thing.

Just give me twenty-four hours before you start getting pissed. Twenty-four hours. That's all I need.

–G.

SURVEILLANCE FIELD REPORT

To:
Central Control [Oliver Moore]

From:
FALCON [Operative #451, Manhattan Unit]

Transmitted via secure SATCOM encrypted lines at 20:04:30 EST

REPORT FOLLOWS

Sir,

As ordered, subject acquired at 13:06:20 in and around premises of the Village School in lower Manhattan. With the assistance of support agents RAVEN and SPARROW, operative secured full surveillance of the location to ensure that target did not leave the school property unnoticed.

At 15:30:01 subject departed the Village School and traveled on foot to Washington Square Park. Subject remained there for approximately twenty minutes while under full surveillance, clearly unaware of being watched as she conversed with an unidentified male schoolmate. The acquisition of sound recordings of this conversation was not possible given the extremely short lead time of the mission, but if so ordered, this operative (and support agents RAVEN and SPARROW) can easily begin full audio monitoring of target.

After completing the conversation with the unidentified schoolmate, subject departed on foot from Washington Square Park, traveling west across Manhattan.

At the present moment, as this secure report is being transmitted, subject is still traveling on foot, making her way toward the hospital buildings near Twelfth Street. Support Agent RAVEN attests that subject's facial expression betrayed hints of determination and conviction, but this is pure speculation. Although subject destination and purpose cannot be conclusively determined, it is this agent's opinion that subject is on her way to the hospital.

Operatives RAVEN and SPARROW will continue to maintain surveillance, and this unit will report any changes as soon as they occur.

FALCON

Addendum
: On behalf of the team, it's a pleasure to be working for you again, sir.

END REPORT

Wouldn't Have Time to Scream

AND HERE SHE WAS, ON HER WAY.

Walking toward the hospital where they would give her fear.

Gaia felt very strange. Some of it was the conversation with Ed. It gave her a feeling of peace to have talked to him the way she just had—to hear his voice, see his kind eyes, and realize again how much he meant to her.

The sky was dark. The stars, as always, were invisible. In New York you never saw the stars; it was a fact of life.

The streets were full of traffic as always. Gaia thought about the city and about the role it had played in her life. If Tom Moore had lived somewhere else, if Katia had come over from Russia and not chosen to become a singer here, in Manhattan, would they have met? If they hadn't met, they wouldn't have a daughter. Would her life have been the same vivid, savage cocktail of love and betrayal and violence and beauty and death? Gaia didn't know, would never know.

Crossing Greenwich Village, Gaia found herself thinking back over her life. It was strange, this mood she'd been in since she'd met Dr. Ulrich—since this whole thing began. It was strange how her desire to be
new Gaia had come true, and so much faster than she'd expected. Mere days after kissing Jake across the lunchroom table, here she was, on her way to keep an appointment to do the impossible—to change herself forever.

To become whole.

Gaia could see the flanks of St. Vincent's hospital ahead of her. She realized she was walking more quickly, as if she couldn't wait to get inside and do this thing—as if she was afraid somebody would stop her. Which was crazy, because there wasn't anyone trying to stop her. Ed Fargo had given her his blessing. Jake had gotten her e-mail, and while she felt bad about misleading him (okay, lying to him), it just wasn't something he could understand. He hadn't known her long enough to understand. And her father was unavailable. After all the times that people had interfered with her life and tried to make her do things she didn't want to do, she was finally doing something purely for herself. . . and there really
wasn't
anyone who could stop her.

Gaia moved down the sidewalk in front of St. Vincent's, where Dr. Ulrich's team from Rodke and Simon had set up their genetics facilities. She could feel her heart rate speeding up as she approached the glass doors. She was almost there. Soon she would—

“Gaia!”

A familiar voice. Right behind her.

Oliver.

Gaia's heart sank. This was absolutely, positively the last thing she needed.

Gaia turned around.

She was shocked by Oliver's appearance. Her uncle looked
awful.
She had noticed before how the lines on his face had become more pronounced. Now he looked absolutely craggy. His hair was wild, and his eyes looked bloodshot and reddened. His clothes were disheveled, and he was out of breath. He stood there on the sidewalk, the headlights of passing cars shining on his beige windbreaker as he pleadingly looked at her.

“Gaia, thank God I got here in time.”

What the hell?

“In time for what?” Gaia asked.

“To stop you,” Oliver rasped. He was winded, Gaia realized—he must have run over here to catch her. “To stop you from—from going in there.”

“Oliver—” Gaia tried to keep a civil tone. But this was beyond irritating. And furthermore, it was
strange.
It was mysterious. And she just didn't want to deal with it. “Oliver, how did you find me? How did you know I was here?”

“Don't worry about that,” Oliver barked impatiently. “That's not your concern. I'm here for a reason, like I said. I'm here to stop you.”

“But—” Gaia walked closer to her uncle, brushing her wind-tossed hair back from her face. She had to be diplomatic; it was obvious. “But Oliver, why? Why do
you want to stop me? What do you know about this? What do you think I'm doing?”

“I don't know,”
Oliver raged. Gaia found herself taking an inadvertent step backward. His face. . . it reminded her of dark memories.

Of Loki.

“I don't know what you're doing here, Gaia. But it's all wrong. Can't you see that? There's something going on here that neither of us understands.”

“That's ridiculous,” Gaia said firmly. It was funny how fast the words came into her head and how smoothly they came out. Once you'd told one big lie, the next one was
much
easier. “That's just ridiculous, Oliver. I may need to get my appendix out, that's all. You know I never got my appendix removed, and now there's a possibility that—”

“No! No! No!” Oliver's face was overcome with anguish. He reached toward her but then pulled his arms back. “You've never lied to me before, Gaia. You're not a liar. Why start now? Doesn't the fact that you're lying tell you something? Doesn't it tell you that some—that some part of you knows you're making a mistake?”

“I'm not lying,” Gaia said patiently. She was trying to figure out the best way to calm Oliver down and persuade him to leave. This was just
not
what she wanted to be doing right now. “Can't you understand that? Even at my age, an appendix can be a problem, and—”

“Gaia!” Oliver took a deep breath, as if struggling
heroically to control his temper. He succeeded. When he spoke again, his voice was remarkably quiet.

“Gaia,” Oliver said, “I'm your uncle and I love you. Tom's away, so I have to look out for you. My team found you here and I had to—”

“Your
‘team'
?” Gaia was incredulous.

“Find out what you were doing. Please, can't it wait? Give it a day. Give it a day so I can look into it and maybe call Rodriguez and do an investigation. Then if everything's all right, I'll apologize and leave you alone and you can”—Oliver pointed up at the dark flank of the hospital—“go in there and do whatever you want.”

“No.” Gaia didn't even hesitate. “No. No more—no more surveillance and investigations and waiting. Not this time. No.”

And she turned around and started walking toward the hospital doors.

“Gaia!”
Oliver called after her. He could hear the anguish in his voice as she pushed her way into the bright, air-conditioned hospital lobby.
“Gaia, wait! I'm begging you!”

“No,” Gaia whispered, more to herself than to him. She wouldn't look behind her—she stepped forward, toward the hospital's admittance desk, where several nurses and a security guard were stationed. “No, Oliver—not this time.”

“Gaia!”

Oliver grabbed her arm. Gaia flinched, but she wouldn't look at him.

“Gaia, you're making a
mistake,
” Oliver said. “I don't understand it, but I know you're making some kind of mistake. I'm
absolutely sure of it.
You've got to listen to me and
stop this
!”

Gaia was done listening.

“Excuse me, sir?” Gaia called out to the security guard. “This man's harassing me.”

The guard sprang to his feet, his square badge glinting in the fluorescent light as he started toward them. “Sir, leave the young lady alone,” he began.

“Gaia, don't,” Oliver said behind her. She still wouldn't look at him. “Please.”

“Sir, you'll have to leave,” the guard told Oliver. He was brandishing his nightstick, obviously unaware that the man he was speaking to could kill him so fast that he wouldn't even have time to scream.

He's going to attack the guard,
Gaia thought sadly. She could clearly see it coming.
He's going to snap and attack the guard and hurt him, and then we'll have a big fight, and the cops will come, and it'll all be over for him. And it's all so unnecessary.

But none of that happened.

She felt Oliver's hand slip from her shoulder.

“Sir,” the guard said again. “Please leave the young lady alone.”

“All right,” Oliver rasped behind her. She could
hear his footsteps moving away. His voice was the voice of utter defeat, of utter despair. “All right, I'm going. Gaia. . . good-bye. I hope with all my heart I'm wrong. And I wish you the best.”

“Good-bye,” Gaia whispered. She was staring at the wall in front of her, and suddenly she realized that her vision was blurring—she was seeing double because her eyes were brimming with tears.

Good-bye,
she thought.
Good-bye to all of it. Good-bye.

Oliver's footsteps receded behind her as she made her way to the hospital elevator. And when the elevator arrived on the sixth floor and she followed the signs that read Rodke and Simon Laboratories, she saw Dr. Ulrich standing there waiting for her in his spotless lab coat, as they'd arranged. Gaia wiped the tears from her face and gazed straight ahead.

“Welcome, Gaia,” the doctor said warmly. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Gaia said, in a clear, steady voice. “I'm ready.”

I've never been readier for anything.

“Then,” the doctor said, gesturing toward a set of dark metal doors, “let us begin.”

Her fear was so intense that it nearly made her faint.

Gaia
doesn't want to talk.

It's obvious. Only an idiot could miss it. I could pretend that I haven't noticed—that I haven't gotten the message. But after the Mercer Hotel and the Rodkes' party, I'm sure of it. It's not just the way she changes the subject. It's not just the way she won't look me in the eyes when it comes up. Beyond all of that, it's just a feeling I get.

And honestly, I don't mind. It's actually fine.

She may not believe that I mean that. She might think that I'm secretly getting more and more upset and that I'm going to keep bothering her about this big conversation I want to have.

But I'm not. As crazy as it sounds, I can deal with it. I've already learned something about Gaia: basically, it's worth it. It's worth not knowing. Because the way things are between us right now is turning out to be just fine.

So I can respect her wishes.

If Gaia wants to wait before we sit down and have that “couple” conversation—that “Jake and Gaia” conversation—I can live with it. I've tried to make that clear to her: I honestly can live with it just as long as she wants me to. It's not a strain at all.

But something's wrong.

I'm not exactly sure
what,
exactly. But there's definitely a problem of some kind.

It's probably not a big deal, but I'll feel better once I've dealt with it. I can already tell—it's that kind of situation. The kind where you can't put something out of your mind until you've convinced yourself that you're being crazy—that there's no problem at all.

I'm not even sure if it has anything to do with me. In fact, I kind of think it doesn't. And if it's
not
about me, then, actually, it's none of my business. Gaia can have as much of her own
life, away from me, as she wants. It's not like she's under any sort of obligation to include me in anything. If she wants to stay completely away from me for two days without really explaining why, that's fine. It could be that it's exactly what she said in that e-mail: wanting to spend time with her dad. That seems completely plausible.