I don’t know what to do with this information. That Orion, who tried to kill my father, who did kill other people from Earth, helpless, frozen, and defenseless, that he would care enough about me to remake his wi-com… A twisted sort of emotion, part gratitude, part revulsion, snakes around my insides.

“Not that I really want a wi-com, but can’t you just make another one? A new one? One that wasn’t under someone’s skin?”

“We don’t have unlimited resources. There are more babies coming than we have wi-coms ready for, and the Shippers are already scrambling to make more. Besides which, I can’t program a used one for a baby; it runs a greater chance of wearing out over time.”

I fiddle with the metal clasp, trying to get the blasted thing off.

Doc’s hand twitches, but he doesn’t reach out to stop me. Instead, he says, “Amy, you need a wi-com. It’s this or get one implanted.”

“You can’t make me—” I start.

“No,” he says, “but Elder can. And we both agree — and you know it too — that you need to be able to call for help if…”

My hand stills. If.

Frex. He’s right.

Doc nods, satisfied that I’m not going to rip the thing off and throw it away. “Well. I just wanted to give you this. Let me know if… if you need anything.” He walks away, shutting the door behind him.

But me, I remain as frozen as when I lay in the glass coffin and the ice stilled my beating heart.

Frex is one of their words.

I am not one of them.

I, with a wi-com on my wrist, am not one of them.

I’m not.

I’m not.

5 ELDER

The words take a long time to sink in. “We’re… stopped?” I say. I scan the Shippers’ faces, hoping for some hint that this isn’t true, but the grim set of Marae’s jaw is evidence enough for me.