“Look at this.” My mate walked over to a collapsed tripod of metal mounted to a large, hollow metal tube. Two long silver cylinders lay beside it—human missiles and their launcher. “The Folri wanted the Varool to find humans responsible,” Deirdre said. “They thought to pit us against each other,” I said. “No matter which side won, the victor would be weakened. It would allow them to take Sagittarian One without resistance.” “They almost succeeded.” Her eyes grew haunted. “The virus…” “It was not you.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
