He grew up in a large structure in the nursery with the other children. His parents spent time with him every day in the quiet sunlit rooms where the infants and toddlers resided, and from them and from the attending women he learned to walk and to speak, to read and to write and to count, first with physical objects and then with electronic ones. His parents applauded his progress with love and affection at every step, and he loved them in return. The women told stories and explained about Balance and how each of them should always strive to achieve it.

When he was five years old he went to stay with his parents in the adult part of the complex. They already knew what he liked and disliked, and they had a small room for him ready. They took their meals together and one parent or the other was always nearby to assist him through the course of study he progressed through in the morning on the little terminal they gave him. In the afternoons they slept for an hour and then they gathered together in the big room with all the other people and walked through the Forms. He was clumsy at first, but he grew to like them.

Within the chalice of the Enclave, he learned all he would ever need to know. He showed an aptitude for mathematics, and he was encouraged in it. His parents were operators for the harvesting equipment, and once his progress allowed them both to return to work during the morning hours he often visited them. The other children were equally absorbed in their own tasks, but once or twice a month they were organized into groups and given jobs to do that required them to interact - the painting of a room, or the harvesting by hand of a small field. Sometimes it would only be the Forms, and they moved in a group like a single person.

When the boy was nine years old, everyone - the adults and their children, even the infants in the arms of their parents - was called into the large room where they did Forms, and there was a lot of talking about finances and territory. Nathan and his peers listened with as much interest as their elders. He didn't grasp all the details, but it seemed that it was becoming too hard for them to stay here, and that it was more difficult for them to pay for things than it had been, and that the children would have to take a test.

The children were each asked if they wanted to, and none said no, though a few looked nervous at the solemnity of their parents. Some asked questions about whether it would hurt or if they would have to go away, and these questions were answered with reassuringly certain nos. Nathan did not hesitate to agree.

And so Nathan and the other twenty-five children between the ages of 8 and 10 were taken away from the Enclave. One woman named Megan was allowed to go with them, and they all held hands together in the back of the transport and she told one of the old stories they all knew, and when she was done they were there.

They were led from the transport through a corridor, single file, and Meg walked in front of them so they could all see her. There was no one else, ever, though Nathan kept seeing glimpses of people in dark clothes that seemed in a hurry. Meg led them into a room and seated them in desks and then seated herself in a chair in front, and a man he had never seen before entered the room, pushing a cart.

His hair was almost all gone, but on the sides and back and not on the top. He smiled briefly at the group of children and said something Nathan didn't understand.

"He says hello," explained Meg. "He is going to give you the test now."

Nathan looked nervously at the man as he unloaded the cart, wheeling it from desk to desk and handing out terminals. He relaxed when he saw that they were just like the ones at home - mostly - and he put on the headphones without being asked, eager to get started so they could finish and go home.

The test had many parts. Some questions were asked more than once. He compared shapes to other shapes and then diagrams to other diagrams. Some of it was really hard and some of it was very easy.

While the test was going on, he dimly noticed that the man was walking around the room. When he finished, the man smiled at him and put a blue sticker on his terminal and said something to Meg. Meg said nothing. As each student finished, he or she got a sticker on his terminal. Some were green and some were yellow, and the last ones to finish were white, but Nathan's was the only blue one.

When all of them were done, Meg had them all stand and form a line. Nathan felt relieved and moved to join them, but the man gently laid a hand on Nathan's arm. Nathan had never disobeyed an adult in his life, and he stopped immediately, confused about what he'd done wrong.

Meg turned and saw the man and said something sharply in a cold voice, and Nathan jumped. The man replied back in the same strange jumble of syllables, completely calm, but Meg went pale and then turned to look at Nathan.

"I'll be right back, Nathan. I'm going to make sure the transport is ready."

She said this with conviction, and Nathan relaxed a little and watched her lead the others out. A few minutes later, the man led him to the same door, and Nathan went with him, holding his hand, and entered the transport that was waiting for them. The man waited and Nathan stepped eagerly into the body of the vehicle.

…has spent her entire childhood being taken care of by strangers. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father put her in daycare as soon as possible. Even when she started school, she continued to be in care before and after. Now that she’s older, she stays home alone. Sometimes a hired caregiver watches her for a few weeks if her father goes out of town on business.

…rarely sees her father, but adores him because he is her only parent. She wishes he would love her more. She sometimes thinks that he goes away so much because he doesn’t want to see her, but she is bound and determined that he notice her. In second grade she discovered that if she did something really bad, the school would call her father, and he would have to come home from work to get her. Now she uses that whenever he’s been away, because it’s the only time she can see him.

…met Jax in first grade, when another boy called her a bad name and Jax hit him and made him apologize. She has idolized him ever since. They are absolutely inseparable, and there is nothing Jax can do to make him bad in Kat’s eyes. She doesn’t really understand Jax, but doesn’t need to. He is her best friend. He is her older brother. He gives her the attention that no one else will, and she loves him. That is enough.

…loves Jax’s parents. They are the nicest parents in the whole world, she thinks. She secretly wishes her own father would be like Jax’s dad. They know that Kat doesn’t see her father much, so they let her stay over at their house. They cook homemade food, and have rules, like no jumping on the couch and go to bed at a reasonable hour. The only time Kat behaves is at their house. Once she asked if they would adopt her, and when they looked sad, thought it was because they didn’t like her.

…hates the following things: bananas, washing her face, bugs, the boy at school who called her a bitch (even though she didn’t know what it meant), black licorice, any other girl who talks to Jax, her nanny, vegetables (except for a bizarre fondness for peas), swimming, meringue, and long division.

…loves the following things: Jax, strawberries, trees, getting dirty, baseball, peas, math (except for long division), jumping on the couch, watching nature documentaries, jello, whipped cream, anything else with sugar, when Jax calls her “kitten,” rain, racing games, and most importantly, Jax.

…knows that her father hits her because she is a bad person. She tries to be good, but the only time he pays close attention to her is when she gets in trouble. For three whole months once she did her best to be good, and even got straight A’s, but he didn’t say anything. The next day she got in a fight and he took her home and yelled at her for two hours. She knows that there is something wrong with him hitting her, but doesn’t know what. He must do it for a good reason.

…worries incessantly that Jax will think she is a bad person too, and either hit her or leave. When he tells her she shouldn’t do something, she tries to listen. He must be a good person because his father never hits him, so Kat considers him wiser than she is. He doesn’t tell his parents that Kat is so bad that her father has to discipline her, because she asked him once not to say anything, otherwise they wouldn’t let her come over anymore. Instead they make up stories about how she got bruised, and when they are alone he puts bandaids on her owwies and tells her that she’s his best friend.

…would do anything for Jax. This has involved beating up a boy who called Jax a pussy, helping Jax with his homework when he forgets, taking the blame when they were playing baseball in the house and he accidentally broke a lamp, and eating his peas at dinner, because Jax hates peas with a passion and Kat has learned to like them for his sake.

…took the colonization exam because Jax took it too, not because her father signed her up for it. Beforehand they made overly elaborate plans to run away if one or the other didn't pass. She even packed a bag of sweatshirts and sandwiches and kept it under her bed until the results came in and she found out that she and Jax had both been accepted by the military and would be going to the same prep school. By then the sandwiches had molded all over the sweatshirts, and everything had to be thrown away.

…has to be the center of attention, all the time. It doesn’t matter what kind of attention, as long as someone notices her. Before they went to prep school, she would get in fights. Now Jax tells her that she can’t do that anymore, and so she tries really, really hard at school so that her teachers will tell her that she is smart and did her homework right. Jax rewards her by drawing pictures for her.

…once told Jax that he had to marry her, and he agreed. Kat reminds him every now and then that he promised, and he always answers the same way, by saying “When we are grown up.” She wonders when they will be grown up enough.

…sometimes misses fighting. She liked it because, once she got good enough at it, she always won. It made her feel powerful and strong, especially when boys would be nice to her because they didn’t want to fight her. But Jax said it was mean, and Jax is always right. She doesn’t do it much anymore, but she can’t always help herself; when she does fight, she keeps it a secret and lies to Jax, and the guilt eats at her until she eventually tells him. If she could just get over the guilt, she’d fight and lie to him more often.

…is violently jealous of anyone else that Jax speaks to. Intellectually she knows that the teachers and his parents have to talk to him, and he to them, but she always resents it a little. Mostly she is jealous when he talks and jokes with other students and she either isn’t there, or is and the conversation is about something she doesn’t find interesting. Jax has asked her before why it bothers her, but neither of them really realize it is because Kat is deathly afraid that Jax will find someone else he likes at any moment and leave her. Instead she shrugs and sulks, and he eventually gives her his full attention again. That Kat would pout about it used to annoy him, but he’s learned that if he doesn’t give in then she will cry and scream, and he would rather indulge her than see her cry.

...is surprisingly naive when it comes to other people. She is honest and always tells the truth, and on the rare occasions when she lies, feels such terrible guilt that she eventually confesses. She believes that everyone else must do the same thing, and feel the same way. It isn't until Jax's suicide that she realizes that if Jax could lie to her, then everyone else could too. After that she ceases to believe that anyone is telling her the truth.

...would never admit it, but is secretly afraid of bees, failing out of prep school, centipedes, guns, and her father.

...believes that her mother must have been such a beautiful, wonderful person that she couldn't stay in the world any longer. They have a place for people like that and it is called heaven. Kat believes in heaven because that is the only explanation for why her mother couldn't stay with her. She doesn't believe in God because she can't see him. It is the same reason she also doesn't believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and chemistry.

…understands Kat better than she understands herself. He is surprisingly intuitive for a boy of his age. He knows that Kat needs attention from him because no one else has ever really talked to her or spent time with her. He knows that Kat is capable of very mean things, and that she has had very mean things done to her, but that the reason she rarely commits such acts is because of him. He also knows that Kat would do anything for him, but he won’t exploit her devotion; except, of course, when it comes to eating peas.

…hates Mr. Quistin. He can’t understand why a parent would hit their child, even if they sometimes did bad things like Kat does. Whenever Kat comes to him with bruises or cuts, he has to fight the urge to tell his parents. Kat made him promise not to tell his parents. He would never break his promise.

…once told Mr. Quistin that it was wrong to hit Kat, and got hit himself. He told Kat that he fell down, and told his parents that he got the bruise while playing. Now, on the rare occasions that he prays, he always asks two things: that God will make sure that Kat is okay, and that Mr. Quistin would die. He knows that God would forgive him for praying that if He saw Kat.

…feels responsible for Kat’s behavior. He tells Kat to eat her vegetables, to brush her teeth before bed, to do her homework and not to pick fights. When she follows his rules it makes him proud, because she is such a terribly stubborn person and yet she listens to him. When she breaks his rules—usually when she gets in a fight—he can tell right after, even when she doesn’t tell him for a long time. She always tells him eventually, and he always forgives her.

…knows that Kat can be an absolutely infuriating person. She is stubborn and close-minded and rude and oftentimes downright mean. She is brutally honest and doesn’t care if she hurts someone else’s feelings. She always has to be the center of attention, and will sulk and throw fits if people, especially him, aren’t always listening or talking to her. There are times when he thinks she must be the most difficult person on earth.

…also knows that Kat can be a gentle, kind person. She likes animals and always tries to take home any lost pets that she finds. As a result, Jax’s family now has two cats and a puppy that she found in a park. She is thoughtful when least expected; she remembers and makes cards on his parent’s birthdays, she stays up to finish his homework when he’s forgotten and already gone to bed, she surprises him with flowers and small gifts when he is having a bad day. He knows she does these things because she loves him, but that she could be this way to other people, if they only treated her like he did.

So it confused him to find himself feeling apprehensive about his journey. He didn't really know why. The idea of Stage 1 sounded very appealing. He was going to Siberia, which was cold and bright and snowy like Kodiak rather than grey and drizzly like Coventry. But he would not be outside much because he would be going to school in a largely-subterranean facility. There he would be taken care of by strangers, and he would go to classes with strangers. No one would know anything about him, so no one would pity him. Instead Gabriel could just be left alone.

But he was nervous nevertheless, and that annoyed him. So he sat on the stairs leading down to the entryway of his aunt’s house, trying to sort out his discomfort while he waited. From time to time his aunt or uncle or one of his cousins would pass by on their way up or down the stairs, and sometimes they would say something to him, though he wasn’t paying much attention so he couldn’t have said what. He replied with noncommittal mumbles and mutterings, and continued to mull. It seemed an eternity before the bell rang. Gabriel got up and crossed the entryway, pulling open the large door.

“Good morning, Hunter,” said the man standing on the front steps. He wore the uniform of the Commonwealth Army, and the rank insignia of a major. His hair was cut short and severe, but his face was trying to look kind. His name was Marcus Bryant, and he had been a friend of Gabriel’s parents’ for as long as Gabriel could remember.

“Good morning,” Gabriel said back, without much feeling. He moved out of the way so Bryant could come inside.

“Hello, Mark,” said Aunt Janice, coming down the stairs. “You’re a bit early yet, aren’t you? I thought Hunter didn’t have to be at the airport until ten.”

The adults talked as Aunt Janice led the major into the parlor. Gabriel expected that he was probably supposed to follow them, but he had already lost interest in their conversation before they disappeared through the arch. He sat down once again on the steps, disappointed. He had hoped that they would be underway.

At length Aunt Janice emerged from the parlor, the major trailing behind. She fixed Gabriel with a wistful gaze and said, “We’re going to miss him.”

All the way to the launch pad, Gabriel thought.

Aunt Janice shouted, and they drifted into the entryway one by one: Uncle Geoff, and Cousins Diana, Sara, and Arthur. “Major Bryant will be taking Hunter a bit early,” she announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, played to varying degrees of sincerity. His cousins each said goodbye to him, without much ceremony; Gabriel hadn’t gotten on particularly well with any of them. His uncle tousled his hair, and Gabriel glared at him silently. Aunt Janice was saying, “Are you sure we can’t send him with anything at all? Surely just one bag…”

Bryant shook his head. “It’s a psychological trick they play with the children. They make them pick just one personal effect to keep and they put the rest in storage. Hunter said he didn’t need to take anything.”

Aunt Janice turned her attention to Gabriel once again. She knelt down in front of him and straightened his collar, even though he had had it perfectly straight when he put the shirt on that morning. “Now don’t worry about a thing, Hunter, Major Bryant will take you as far as he can and make sure you get on the right plane. Work hard in school and make sure to be polite and honest with your teachers. And don’t be afraid to smile sometimes. Your mum will watch over you from Heaven, and Major Bryant will check in on you from time to time here on Earth.”

She hugged him then, and Gabriel felt very uncomfortable. He waited until she was done.

Aunt Janice stood up again, and Major Bryant put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. He didn’t push, but he didn’t need to; Gabriel walked out the door and down the front steps entirely of his own free will. The major opened the door of the waiting rental car for him, and Gabriel got in.

When they were moving, Gabriel adjusted his collar to make it comfortable again.

Bryant, in the tone of forced cheerfulness that he always used with Gabriel, said, “So are you excited to going, Hunter?”

Gabriel shrugged and kept looking out the window.

“Nervous?”

Gabriel didn’t say anything, because he was nervous and he didn’t know why yet.

“Well don’t worry. Like your aunt said, I’ll be able to look in on you every now and then. Once a year students get to visit with family and I’ve put in requests for leave time so I can come and see how you’re doing. Your aunt and her family will already be on their ship by then, but I’m sure their thoughts will be with you the whole time.”

Bryant stopped talking then, possibly because he knew how stupid he sounded.

The drive to the airport passed in silence, as did the flight to Cairo. There they had a two-hour layover before their plane to Beijing departed. Gabriel watched the people bustling through the terminal, and liked the feeling of anonymity he got from it. He felt invisible, free to spy on people, to see what he could figure out from them by paying attention to their clothes, their bags, their faces, their movements.

In Beijing there was no need to rent a car; the city’s public transit conveyed them right to their destination: a large compound at the heart of the city which Bryant called “the hub”. Bryant presented identification for them both, and they were ushered inside and through a series of security scanner corridors. Gabriel was led away from Bryant and processed, then released into a large central plaza populated by many other children and their families. Gabriel stood alone, just inside the doors that had admitted him, and realized what it was that had been making him nervous. He gritted his teeth.

Bryant found him soon enough, and led him to an unoccupied bench. “Well, this is it,” he said. “Your transport leaves in an hour and a half.”

And, but for a few half-hearted attempts by Bryant to engage Gabriel in conversation, that was all that was said while they waited. After an hour, a pleasant voice announced in Pure Mandarin that loading was beginning for Gabriel’s transport. Gabriel and Bryant moved in the direction instructed, and waited in line. When they neared the front, Bryant turned to Gabriel and said, “She’d be so proud of you, Hunter. She always was.” Then Bryant shook Gabriel’s hand like an adult, and Gabriel found that he rather liked it. He covered with a stiff nod, and stepped up to the attendant.

“Identification,” said the woman in the less-formal Mandarin pidgin that Gabriel was had learned in prep school. Gabriel handed her his papers, and when she was finished looking them over she did not hand them back. “Proceed,” she said.

Gabriel glanced once more at Bryant, who nodded, and walked up the steps into the transport. A man inside directed him to an unoccupied seat, and showed him how to buckle in.

…has owned a lot of expensive, pretty things in his life, but still cannot understand how to managed to get Wick. She is a masterpiece that he knows he cannot afford, and it is like stealing the Mona Lisa. She is beautiful and invaluable and eventually he will be forced to give her back.

…grew up rich and privileged but does not act like it. He would rather eat hamburgers and wear old jeans than act “like a man of your position,” as his parents often tell him.

…finds his parents to be petty and greedy and is secretly afraid that he’ll end up like them. To combat this he enjoys buying lavish, elaborate gifts to prove that he would rather give his money away than keep it. He is also a complete and utter sucker for any charity that asks him for a donation. He has donated to several wildlife conservations, a few research organizations, and one man who said he was a homeless war veteran but really wasn’t.

…will always resent Rabin because he still believes that there was something between him and Wick. Even though Wick has assured him many times that Rabin does not like her, Jor knows that at some point Rabin could have, and that Wick may even have liked him, preposterous though that is, and he will always be jealous of the possibility.

…always gets what he wants. He attributes this to a winning personality and charming attitude, but really it is because he is very tall and very strong, and gets angry when he doesn’t get his way. His father calls this “negotiation.”

…wonders what it would be like to be poor. One summer he attempted to find out by wearing his oldest clothes and running away from home. He slept in a park and begged for change and hung out with a group of homeless kids downtown, and would have stayed longer if he hadn’t gotten really, really hungry after the first day. He went home the next morning and, later on, had his parents’ accountant donate a large sum to the local soup kitchen. His parents were angry until they got good publicity, and then they promptly forgot about it.

…hates the following things: seafood, garter snakes, ties, dress shoes, sand in his swim trunks, attorneys, Rabin, large crowds, margarine, spinach, anything small and breakable, computers, peppermint, and anyone who looks at Wick.

…loves the following things: Wick, the ocean, his motorcycle, poker, swimming, apple pie, waterbeds, hamburgers, football, old detective movies, figuring out how things work (especially mechanical things), the smell of suntan lotion, and Kraft singles.

…is one of those strangely charismatic people who, despite being a jerk most of the time, seems to have a lot of friends. He does not mean to be a jerk, nor does he mean to have a lot of friends, but it is one of those things that simply is and he doesn’t question it. Not surprisingly, many of his friends tend to be the same way, and he never realizes that he likes them for the same reason that they like him.

…strongly dislikes arrogant people without really understanding that he is arrogant himself. He sees himself as confident and outspoken.

…has wanted to be a detective or secret agent “when he grows up” since he was five. His best friend bought him a secret agent playset for his birthday, and Jor wore the plastic gun and carried the fake identification for three months before he lost them. Then he became obsessed with old detective and spy movies, and can now quote every single James Bond movie ever made.

…on the one occasion that he felt overly romantic, compared his love for Wick to the ocean. It is vast and overwhelming and he will drown in it. He later decided that the simile was stupid, and settled instead for knowing that he loved her very, very much.

…went through a phase when he was seven where he systematically set about dismantling everything in the house. He did this with a hammer that he’d found in the servant’s garage and a large serving fork from the kitchen. During this phase, his parents had to buy a new phone, garage door, fax machine, computer, answering machine, hair dryer, toaster oven, dvd player, stereo, sprinkler system, waffle iron, and 2007 vintage BMW convertible.

...asked every single day for two months if he could take the colonization examination. His parents wanted to stay on Earth and exploit what was left, and they thought that the possibility of a career in the military was beneath him. Jor, however, had been won over a long time ago by visions of guns and fighter jets, and he was persistent. He finally waited until his father had had a little too much to drink, and got the signature then.

…has never really considered the types of things that might worry normal people, such as nuclear war or terrorism or a failing economy. Instead, his only worry is that he won’t get enough to eat. He considers this to be a very legitimate concern.

…loathes garter snakes with a hatred that borders on obsession. He cannot pinpoint why, but has some vague memory of something involving him and a snake when he was a very small child. Mostly, he would rather not think about it, and just hate the damn snakes.

...does not want to be seen as a big dumb guy. He feels that men of his stature are, like minorities and women in Third World Countries, required by society to prove how intellectual they can be. Sometimes he takes this idea to extremes by studying obscure subjects and then forming largely one-sided opinions about world issues, but it usually passes pretty quickly.

...likes to think of himself as something of a flirt but, in reality, does not know the first thing about women and never will. They are inexplicable creatures and he cannot understand them. Still, they are awfully pretty creatures.