Jane opens the door. "Isla Blume, sir," she says, bowing her head.

My vision zooms into focus: Gunther Quail stands at the end of the room, in front of an illuminated stained glass window depicting a scene of sheep grazing in a field.

He's smiling, and upon seeing me, shoos Jane out the door behind me. As he sits down, I notice that he's sitting at a U-shaped golden table with three empty chairs on either side of him. This must be where the Leaders here meet.

One chair waits in front of the desk, and he motions for me to take a seat.

There's a platter of rice piled in front of him, and as I lower myself into the seat, he pushes the platter toward me. "Eat up, Ms. Blume. It's not poisoned, don't worry."

I hadn't even thought of that, but his mentioning it calms the growling in my stomach. "Why would it be poisoned?"

He chuckles, and rests his elbows on the desk. "It wouldn't be. I don't need to kill you... yet." He waits for my reaction before bursting into laughter. "It's just a joke. I'm just trying to get a rise out of you. It's perfectly safe, and you look famished. Eat."

I reach cautiously for the fork poking out from the mound of food, and he laughs again.

"Eat," he insists, smiling like we're old pals. Like he didn't just try to blow me up.

I pick at a few bites, telling myself I'll have the patience to eat slowly, just in case, but once the salts touch my tongue, I dive in, unable to pull back even if I wanted to. I'm too hungry.

He watches me eat, his elbows still resting on the desk, and he smiles. Through his suit, I can't see if he has controls on his arms, but he wouldn't, would he? He's the one putting them in everyone. He's smart enough not to do that to himself.

My entire body tenses, like the air is made of pins and needles, so I take a few more bites to satiate the gobbling monster in my belly, and put the fork down.

"Where's Daniel?" I ask, swallowing the last few bites.

He looks at his wristwatch. "Took you, what? Two minutes to ask? I feel like, as his friend and colleague, I ought to tell him exactly how excited his wifey-to-be is to see him."

"What are you talking about?" says the anger in my chest.

"As soon as Crowley woke up from being knocked out, your name was the first word out of his mouth, so I was really hoping for a Romeo and Juliet situation here, you know? Two lovers from opposing sides, fighting to stay together, even if it's in death. That would have been heartwarming."

"Daniel isn't on your side."

"Aw," he coos. "That's adorable. Yes, he is. How do you think he sent that transmissions ask for you? You think we just let our captives run around the bunker?" He laughs to himself, and pinches some rice between his fingers. "This isn't the Immortal." He dangles the rice over his mouth before dropping it in.

"Why did you blow up the bunker?" I ask, watching his teeth grind the food to bits.

"Oh, we're already done talking about Daniel? I never even answered your question. Yikes, wifey-to-be doesn't even really care where hubby-to-be is. Yet another disappointing realization for young love." He is waiting for me to ask again, I know it. I can tell by the sly closed-mouth smile that stretches across his face, but when I don't say anything, he groans, "Daniel is fine. You will see him shortly. He's excited to see you, but, like I said, I'm disappointed in your reaction. I was kind of hoping for tears."

"Forgive me if I'm just a little pissed that the supposed love of my life left me in a cell to be taken care of by drones."

"Oh, the truth comes out," he says, his eyes widening. "I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation. Now, to answer your second question, why did I blow up the bunker, right?" He picks another pinch-full of rice and plops the grains in his mouth. "That was the plan. Simple as that. The President wanted to transfer all of us here, so we had been working on that. The bunker was meant to be a trap for the Deathless, to take care of them slash get anyone on our side at the last minute. Like Alexander, your old pal, and Mitchell Harper. Phoebe and Winston weren't as keen, though."

"Where are they?"

"Well, Phoebe is safe, and gorgeous as ever. She really didn't have nice things to say about you, though. Well, they weren't meant to be nice, but I take them as a compliment. She told me that you and I would get along. Only not in so many words. I think it was more like, 'You and Isla are cut from the same cloth.' She said that you would do anything for science."

"I am invested in science because of the beauty of it and because of the people. Not for my own personal gain. Sorry to ruin the illusion, but you and I are nothing alike."

"We are, actually. I can already tell that about you."

"I promise you, we're not. I would never kill anyone just so that I could make a name for myself."

"But you would kill for your family."

"I would do anything for my family."

He grins. "I hope so. Now, your other pal, Winston, is another story. He's with our workers, same with Sato, in case you were wondering."

"If your plan was to kill us all along, why did you let us on the tank? Why keep us prisoners here?"

"Well, first of all: I have plans for all of you in my head. It's just about finding the right leverage to convince you to play your parts. It took no time at all for Mitchell, my God, what a spineless porcupine, am I right? All I had to do was tell him I wanted him on our team, and he nearly shook my hand off. Why Phoebe ever trusted him over you, I'll never know. I thought she was smarter than that. Second of all: It turned out that someone very special to me was in your crowd of knocked-out escapees. Someone I thought had been evacuated already."

"Daniel?"

"Well, yes, him, but someone else, too. It's none of your concern... yet. I'd like to fill you in, but you have other jobs for me before I can do that."

"What could you possibly need from me, Gunther? "

"First name basis, huh?"

"You don't deserve the respect."

He laughs. "I like you. I think we'll be great friends."

"That won't happen."

"Well, just wait. You may change your mind, Ms. Blume." He leans toward me. "See? I have respect for you," he whispers.

"What's your end game?"

He leans back in his chair, moving his sapphire eyes over my entire being, as if he could search through my whole life. "Same as you. I want to make a difference. You didn't see what the world was like 25 years ago. It had to be deconstructed. Now that we have a second chance, I'm not going to let that happen again. I want what's best for the future, just like you, but I think what's best is for the human race to be controlled. We need to eradicate certain diseases, genes, and types of people, and that's all I'm doing."

"I'm pretty sure Hitler said something similar."

His playfulness dissipates, leaving worn canyons around his mouth. "We can be done here. I don't need to do you any favors whatsoever, and you would have no idea how replaceable you would be. I have the power to keep Daniel alive, to keep the other Deathless alive, and don't think I've forgotten that my good old friend, Declan Kunkle, and your mommy are both back at the Deathless camp, either. Do you have any idea how easy it would be to destroy them? All it would take would be a few short words and a press of a button. I saved you once. I don't need to do it again."

His words are like fists, hitting the air from my lungs, the strength from my heart, and the tears from my eyes. "I'm sorry," I mumble.

"I am not doing this out of my own hubris or out of hate," he continues, "I am doing this for our future. I have a job to help prepare this earth to be reunited with the group of colonists who left for space before the world came crashing down. We all have jobs to do in preparation for that. My job is to create beings who will be ready for them. What Hitler did was out of fear and hate and anger. He was a small man who came into a great deal of power. I am a genius who earned his own power."

There's the Gunther Quail I was expecting to meet. The inflated sense of importance, the threats. It's strange: Now that he is who I was expecting, I feel the pins and needles leave the air, and my body relaxes.

"I understand," I say. "The Deathless could help with that, though. There's no need to hurt us or threaten us."

His grin returns. "I know. That's why you're alive. That's why I don't press the button. Cooper is not as easily convinced, though. That's why you need me." He examines me again. "Enjoy your afternoon with Daniel—yes, you may see him now—and I will see you tonight. Think about what I said, though. I will come to you with a job: I suggest you take it." He reaches across the desk to rest a key in front of me. The tag on the key ring reads, "Room 5."

I wobble to my feet, never taking my eyes from Gunther's face. I'm confused all over again. What will he need me to do? It must be important for him, but I'm done being a pawn in other people's games. I need to get back to the camp before I have to do anything for him, and before he finally runs out of kindness, and presses that button.

"Why make so many concessions for me?" I ask, taking the key, and turning it over in my hands.

"Have you forgotten already? You saved something that means a great deal to me: The someone who should have been evacuated. I'm not a man who does many favors, but you rescued this someone when you should have just run. The least I can do is allow you to live."

Does he mean the coughing survivor? Who else could he be talking about? Then it hits me: The survivor I saved must have been Hugh. He was coughing because he has cystic fibrosis, and the mucus in his lungs must have still been thawing. I wish Declan were here. I wish I could somehow tell him, but before I can think about it anymore, Gunther continues, "Don't cross me, though. It is not in my nature to be kind. Now, go. Room 5 is in the center of the hall outside the office, but you might want to stop by the room across from it first, room 6. That's where Daniel is."

I nod, and begin walking toward the door.

"Oh, and Isla." I turn back. "Daniel told me you're a bit of a bibliophile. Feel free to take something with you to read. The life of a Comforter can be dull."

He means to be demeaning, but to be honest, a book is the exact comfort I need right now. I don't want to linger in the wolf's den, so I grab the first book I see, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I've never read it, but I know the premise, and it seems fitting Gunther would have it. In his private library, no less.

I thank him under my breath and turn to leave the room, but just before I exit, I ask, "Where is the necklace I was wearing?"

"It's in safe keeping. Don't you worry."

"I need it back. It's special to me."

He smiles his sly grin. "Daniel said the same thing about you. You're dismissed."

Outside the door, the drones are still waiting for me, as is Jane, but she doesn't make eye contact. She must know that whatever was discussed in Gunther's office has turned my blood to slime.

"This way," her voice cracks, and she leads me to the the center of the hall; but all I can think of are the jobs here. Everyone has a job. There are the ones appointed by titles and ranks, like Comforter, Caregiver, Carrier; there are the ones that are out of your control, like whatever Gunther expects from me; and there are the ones you're meant to live.

I remember how desperate I was to have a job back home, and how thrilled I was to earn one on the Immortal. What will my job here really be? Am I meant to be a hero, like Jane needs me to be? Or am I meant to be whatever monster Gunther wants to shape me into? But I'm not worried. I went through this whole process at home, on the Immortal, and now I will go through it here. The only thing I can feel is disappointment. I thought the Deathless were different, with their hierarchy system as a means of supporting ones' best qualities. But now I see the Deathless and the government use jobs the same way: to control us.

"This is your room here," she says, pointing to the left. "But this is Daniel's room. Would you like to stop in here first?"

"Yes," I say, barely able to control all my emotions long enough to speak coherently. I'm excited and angry and confused and happy, and I don't know which will be expressed once I see his face. I twist the golden knob, and walk through the doorway.

That's when I see him. Daniel.