“This is Anatoli Nikolai’s house?” the rabbi prompted, breathing hard. “Does anyone remember?”

“It could be,” Nate said, squinting through the darkness.

It had been a long time—for all of them. But Denton had spent more time in the house than any of the others.

“I’ll check,” he volunteered. He slipped away toward the house and heard someone come after him. He turned to see Nate’s dark head. The young man smiled.

“Backup,” he whispered.

Denton’s heart warmed and he returned the smile. He was back among his own kind and it felt pretty amazing. He gave Nate’s shoulder a squeeze.

On the right side of the back wall a window was lit up. They crept closer, sticking to the shadows, and peeked inside. It was Anatoli’s kitchen. Denton remembered the tiny table and tinier chairs, the stove so old it had a propane tank on the side, the dinged wooden clock on the wall with the painting of the little Polish Mädchen.

Sitting at the table, sipping cups of tea, were two men. One was medium-sized, with dark hair and a young, conservative face. The other was a huge guy who could have doubled as a professional wrestler. They both wore plain white button-down shirts, dark pants, and ties. They had crew cuts and there was a mirror-shiny polish on their thick-soled shoes. Nate pulled Denton backward. They exchanged a grim look.

Anatoli? Nate mouthed. Denton nodded.

They made their way around the house, peering into darkened windows. On the second window they tried, something blocked their view—an X shape made by boards nailed to the inside of the frame. Nate peered into one of the openings left by the boards and Denton another. The hall door had been left open a few inches, allowing light into the room. Directly beneath the window was a bed, which appeared to be occupied, but the light and the angle made it impossible to see who or what might be in it.

Still, Denton knew it was Anatoli. He felt a surge of anger. Those goons had better not have hurt the old man.

Nate tugged on his sleeve and the two of them dodged through the shadows back to the others. The big guy was still lying on the ground as heavily as a manikin made out of cement.

“Well?” the rabbi asked.

“It’s Anatoli’s place all right,” Denton answered, “and I think he’s in there. But he has company. Two military types are in the house. They have him locked up in one of the bedrooms.”

Nate nodded, a little breathless. “They’re DoD. I recognize one of the men from Seattle.” He looked at Jill. “It’s the guy who came to the restaurant looking for me.”

Rabbi Handalman tugged at his beard. “Why are they still here? It’s been months. Anatoli had only one copy of the manuscript, yes?”

“Actually,” Jill said distractedly, “it’s only been five days. At least, that’s what we were aiming for.”

“Cool!” Denton said, having no problem with the concept.

“Five days? Five days from what? What are you saying?”

“On Earth it’s been only five days since we disappeared.” Jill shivered and Nate rubbed his hands up and down her arms. Like Denton, the two of them were dressed only in their own clothes, with no coat or other covering to keep out the cold. “I’d be happy to explain, only first we need to get somewhere warm.”

“Five days?” Handalman repeated, sounding wistful. “I left Hannah less than two weeks ago?”

“There’s only two of ’em in the house. We might be able to take them.” Denton grinned, loving the fact that he actually meant it. Heck, why not? If they could dig up a couple of two-by-fours or even heavy branches, they might have a shot. It was better than freezing.

“No, the last thing we need is to attract attention,” Jill said. “We’ll have to find someplace else for now. There must be more houses down the road. Or we might find a barn or something.”

“We can’t carry him very far.” Aharon pointed out the obvious—the prone and massive guy at their feet.

“Well, we can’t leave him,” Jill said flatly.

“What if we came back for him? Maybe we’ll find a car.” Denton suggested.

“What if he wakes up and takes off while we’re gone?” Jill shook her head, teeth chattering. “We n-need him. Besides, he knows about the gateway, now, too. N-nate?”

Nate was still rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “Jill’s right. Maybe we could take turns carrying him. I’ll go first.”

Denton hated to be a downer, but he didn’t think there was any way Nate was going to be able to carry the guy by himself. He would offer; his chances weren’t much better. Even the four of them had had difficulty.

Before Nate could even attempt it, the headlights of a car appeared far off down the highway. They watched the car approach, fast at first, then slowing.

“I say we go for it,” Denton said.

“We don’t even know who it is!” Jill protested.

Denton couldn’t care less who it was—they needed that car. But it was going to be gone before he could get to the road at this rate. That was where decision by committee got you. They’d argue about it and it would be gone. But… no, the car was slowing. It looked like it was going to pull into Anatoli’s house, but it passed it at a good clip, then decelerated quickly. It rolled to a stop at the side of the road, close to the trees, about two hundred yards away. The headlights went out.

“Okay,” Denton said cheerfully. “I vote for a carjacking. Anyone with me?”

“I’ll go,” Aharon grunted. “As long as we don’t kill anyone. I draw the line at murder.”

Jill nodded. “Nate, go with them. I’ll stay here with Farris.”

“No, you guys go,” Nate told Denton. “I don’t want to leave her alone with him.”

“But I have his gun.” Jill patted her pocket.

Nate didn’t answer, but Denton knew he wasn’t going to leave her with a death commando like Farris, gun or no gun.

“Let’s go, Rabbi,” Denton said.

Aharon was trying to keep up with the goy—Wyle—but was still having difficulty assimilating the current situation. In truth, he had a lot of sympathy for the man on the ground back there, even if he was a government agent. It would be easy—yes, it would be nice—to roll his eyes back in his head and check out. Because, look, the brain was only designed to handle so much. And his brain—maybe it was due to advanced age, but it had had more surprises than it cared to deal with.

One thing kept him relatively coherent and moving: that if he really was back on Earth, if all this wasn’t going to be snatched away from him at any moment, then there was a possibility that he might get home, that his wife and his children were only half a world away. Why, they were within reach of a simple airplane ride. God had given him another chance. Talk about your miracles.

He hurried his steps to keep up with Wyle. Aharon felt amazingly light on his feet, his body practically bouncing after the bone-grinding pressure of Fiori, and his heart was lightening step-by-step as well.

Someone was getting out of the car up ahead, a small figure. He and Denton, well, they weren’t exactly quiet. If subtlety had been part of the plan, they were failing miserably. But it was dark outside. The lone figure did not turn in their direction. From what Aharon could make out, there was no one else in the car, either.

He remembered, then, that they had no plan. What were they going to do, talk the person to death? Jump them? Ask nicely if they would mind giving up their car? Aharon didn’t like the idea of violence now that he could see the figure was not large and threatening. He intended to say so to Wyle, except they were almost upon this person. And Aharon realized that, yes, Wyle was going to jump the driver. What had happened to this timid young man?

Just before Denton pounced, the figure heard them and turned. It was wearing a sweatshirt with a hood and the face was barely visible in the dim moonlight. It wasn’t much, but then, how much does a man need after fifteen years of marriage?