But once she finally received the gift, her mere persistence was wearing. In many ways she was the same forthright woman she had been before, nearly as obnoxious as a new believer as she had been as a holdout. But of course, everyone was happy she was finally on the team.

Chaim, if Rayford could judge by facial expressions, was at least bemused by her. He was the next newest believer, so perhaps he identified with her. Yet Chaim was not responding as she was at all. Was it healthy envy that made him seem intrigued with her patter? Did he wonder why he hadn't been bestowed with such abandonment with his commitment to the truth?

Rayford didn't want to get ahead of himself, didn't want to take too literally Tsion's compliments about his return to effective leadership. But sometimes the surprise move, the one against the groove, was effective. Should he-dare he-conspire with Hattie to get her to see if she could jostle Dr. Rosenzweig off of square one? Tsion had become convinced that Chaim was God's man for this time, and Rayford had learned to trust the rabbi's intuition. But Chaim was going to have to progress a long way in a short time if he was to become the vessel Tsion envisioned.

Hattie had fed and was changing Kenny when Rayford approached her. What a bonus for Kenny that he had so many parent figures! The men doted on him, and even Zeke, though slightly intimidated, was extremely gentle and loving toward him. The women seemed intuitively to know when to spell each other, mothering him, but of course, most of the responsibility fell to Chloe.

"Have a minute?" Rayford asked Hattie as she lay the freshly powdered and dressed boy over her shoulder and sat rocking him.

"If this guy is drowsy, I've got all the time in the world, which-according to our favorite rabbi-is slightly less than three and a half years."

Hattie isn't as funny as she sees herself, Rayford thought, but there is something to be said for consistency.

"Could I get you to do me a favor?" Rayford said.

"Anything."

"Don't be too quick to say that, Hattie."

"I mean it. Anything. If it helps you, I'll do it."

"Well, if you succeed, it helps the cause."

"Say no more. I'm there."

"It has to do with Chaim."

"Isn't he the best?"

"He's great, Hattie. But he needs something Tsion and I don't seem to be able to give him."

"Rayford! He's twice my age!"

So as not to draw suspicion, Buck suggested he and Albie get a head start on the next group by heading directly to the building immediately east of the processing center. This housed the lesser criminals, according to the organizing officer. Yet he had also said that the religious dissidents were in with the worst felons in the easternmost facility.

The two approached the guards at Building 4. "Ready for us?" one said with a Cockney lilt.

"Soon," Buck said. "You're next."

"Heard whooping and hollering. Somebody choose the blade?"

Buck nodded but tried to make it clear he didn't want to talk about it.

"More'n one?" the man added. Buck nodded again. "Wasn't pretty."

"Yeah? Wish I'd seen it. Never saw somebody buy it before. You watched, eh?"

"Told you it wasn't pretty. How would I know otherwise?"

"Sorry I'm just askin'. How many you see then?"

"Just the one."

"But there were more? How about you, Commander? You stay for the whole show?"

"Leave it alone, Corporal," Albie snapped. "Several women chose it and showed more bravery than any man I ever saw."

"That right, is it? But they wasn't loyal to the potentate now then, was they?"

"They stood by their convictions," Albie said.

"Convictions and sentences, sounds like to me, mate."

"Would you choose to die if you felt that deeply?"

"I do feel that deeply, gents. Only I'm on the other side of it now, ain't I? I choose what makes sense. Man rises from the dead-he's got my vote."

The armed guards led the somber survivors back to the women's building while Athenas's crew caught up to Buck and Albie. Buck noticed that Alex's people seemed as subdued as the women prisoners. But their guards seemed energized.

"Let's get this done," Athenas said, leading the way in.

These were clearly white-collar criminals or small-timers. No bravado, no threats, little noise at all. They listened, no one opted for the guillotine, and they filed out quietly to be processed. Buck was repulsed at the smell of blood that hung in the center. Word quietly spread throughout the men that several women had been beheaded in that very room, and the men grew even quieter. The workers assigned to the guillotine seemed relieved to have a break.

Buck watched the process, despairing at the masses who ignorantly sealed their fate. The workers had grown smooth with experience, and the operation went faster and faster. Line up, decide, swab, sit, inject, back in line, file out. Ironically, real life bloomed at the point of bloody death. Men receiving what looked like an innocuous mark they thought kept them alive sealed their real death sentences. From death, life. From life, death.

Buck was eager to meet Pastor Demeter, about whom Rayford had said so much. Yet he dreaded the confrontation with the worst of the worst criminals in Building 5, knowing that many believing men would choose the right but ugly fate.

His phone vibrated. The readout said, "Top priority. Rendezvous at Kozani no earlier than 0100 hours with GC penal officer reassigned from Buffer to USNA. Urgent. Her papers will specify destination. Late twenties, dark hair, Ming Toy. Sealed."

"We'll have company tonight," Buck told Albie. "It will be refreshing to have a sister aboard who won't remind me of this place every time I look at her."

"I understand," Albie said. "I could have lived a lifetime without having seen this and not felt I missed a thing."

It was late afternoon at the safe house, and everyone was busy except Rayford. Zeke was sewing. Tsion writing. Chloe working on the computer. Leah copying. Chaim cramming. Kenny sleeping. And Hattie, with a wink to Rayford, approaching Chaim.

The old man looked up at her from a couch, seemingly intrigued. Rayford sat nearby, ostensibly buried in a book. "Ready for an interruption?" she said. "Because I can't be dissuaded." She sat on the floor near his feet.

"As I don't appear to have a choice, Miss Durham, I could use a diversion. Something on your mind?"

"You're new at this too," she said, "but I've noticed you're not all over the place talking about it."

"I'm on assignment. Heavy study load. You remember from college?"

"Didn't finish. Wanted to see the world. But, hey, you won't let the studying get in the way of the thrill, will you? This has to be more than a class or that would take the fun out of it."

"Fun I don't associate with this. I came to the faith, you and I both did, at the worst possible time in history to enjoy it. It's about survival now. Joy comes later. Or if we had come to the faith before the Rapture, I could see where I might have enjoyed it more."

She scowled. "I don't mean fun fun, like ha-ha fun. But we can let it reach us, can't we? Inside? Get to us?"

He let his head bob from side to side. "I suppose."

"Do you? Your eyes and your body language tell me you're still not with the picture."

"Oh, make no mistake. I'm in. I believe. I have the faith."

"But you don't have the joy."

"I told you about the joy."

"I can't debate a brain like you, but I'm not giving up on this. I don't care if you are ten times more educated- I want you to understand this."

"I'll try," he said. "What do you want me to agree with?"

"Just that we have so much to be thankful for."

"Oh, I agree with that."

"But it has to thrill you!"

"In its own way, it does. Or I should say, in my own way."