“Hey, Caliban?” she said, when they broke apart. “Yes?” “If they figure it out and stab us while we’re on the body cart, or we get split up or whatever…” He was very still. Slate had no idea what she had been about to say, except that it seemed like she should say something. She settled on, “I wish we’d had more time.” His fingers curved against her face. She could feel their warmth even through the cloth. “We aren’t dead yet,” he said.
