Kait thought that it guessed. It knew. Severed from the hive mind, it had only one remaining mission. She looked into those unreadable, multifaceted eyes. All these years inside our heads, she thought. What have you learned about us? There was only one way for her to find out. Kait took in a breath. She’d thought about this moment for years, wondering how she’d feel when she finally reached it. She’d be crying, she’d guessed. Crying from fear, or maybe from relief. But it was through dry eyes that she spent a few moments looking at her own flesh, as if she had never seen it before. The slight curve of her stomach. The flat planes angling down toward her pelvis. The three small birthmarks arrayed to the right of her belly button like the stars in Orion’s belt. The fine hairs that, as she watched, prickled with goose bumps. Kait’s shoulders were gripped by a deep, convulsive shudder that made her bones hurt.
