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sunlight. Outsiders required many times the intake of calories, and Tula was endlessly fighting the restrictions the Conversion Department imposed on potential converts. Their theory was if the prisoner became hungry enough, they would convert. Tula maintained that a well-fed prisoner was a happy convert. The sweets she provided the prisoners came out of her own pocket money.
    The Conversion Department ’ s bottom line was if someone took too long to convert, they were not worth feeding.
    “ What is your name? ” she asked the woman.
    “ Awnia. Give me. ”
    “ Awnia. My name is Tula. ” She watched the woman ’ s face to see how the introduction registered.
    Focus still on the canister, the woman repeated, “ Hungry. ”
    On the bed, the baby started to fuss. As if remembering the child was hers, the woman backed up, lifted the infant.
    Tula turned to the man and pointed to her chest. “ Tula. ”
    His face flushed as his gaze wandered to her chest and then darted to the ceiling.
    “ What is your name? ” She couldn ’ t understand his excessive tension. Perhaps because he feared for the woman and child? Sticking the protein canister between the bars, Tula allowed the woman to approach and snatch it from her, but it made no difference in the man ’ s stance.
    She pointed to the gamma pad on the floor of the cell. “ Draw. ”
    The man ’ s blue eyes shifted to look at the gamma pad, and then as if making a decision, he pointed to his notebook.
    She considered giving him the pages. But it was against policy. Pointing to the gamma pad again, she repeated, “ Draw. ”
    Panting, he bent and picked up the gamma pad. Nimble fingers darted over the screen and then he turned the nuvoplast to show her. On the surface was a three-dimensionally rendered cell with a propped-open door. “ Lass mich raus. ”
    The language opened something within her. A fissure that ruptured and then sealed almost as quickly. Heart racing, she swallowed, throat tight. She wanted to run away, and she wasn ’ t sure why. The desperation of his words struck a chord in her she couldn ’ t ignore. She looked at the picture again. “ Let you out? ”
    “ Aus. Frei. ” He pointed to the locked door.
    “ Free. ” She spoke under her breath. There was no doubt now that he was the creator of the drawings in the paper notebook. I need to get him a better gamma pad.
    “ Bitte. Lassen sie mich frei. ”
    “ You are safe in here. Safe. ”
    He approached the bars and rattled off several sentences she couldn ’ t understand.
    At a loss, Tula looked at the woman, who was wiping the last of the protein residue from the canister with her fingers. “ Awnia. What is he saying? ”
    Throwing the container to the bed, Awnia put the baby to her breast and leaned back to nurse.
    “ Awnia. ”
    The woman focused a sleepy glare at her. “ Don ’ t know. ”
    “ You don ’ t know what he ’ s saying? ”
    Awnia shrugged and closed her eyes.
    Tula looked between the man and the woman with child. Meeting the prisoner ’ s blue-eyed visage once more, she said, “ You don ’ t belong here at all, do you? ”

    Levi sat on the edge of the bed and looked across the room to where Awnia slumped against the bars of a different cage. Her screaming had eased into dull hiccoughs, but he was sure they would begin again as soon as she recovered her strength.
    After the Blattvolk woman had tried to talk to him, more of the plant people had come and moved Awnia to another cell. And they took away her baby. He could only guess at the atrocities they were performing on the child, and he wondered if there had been something he could ’ ve done to keep mother and child together.
    Short of violence, he didn ’ t think so. Whatever happened, he had to accept God ’ s will. But he would never willingly accept the Mark of the Beast.
    He paced the cage, stomach knotted with hunger, head light with fatigue. How long had he been here? The lights perpetually burned, and