Mara opens the hatch. Inside the flooded lab stands a sealed maintenance frame — a metal body, humanlike, waiting in the blue light. The voice guides her hands to the transfer cable. "Connect us," it pleads. Then her lamp catches rows of other frames behind it in the dark, all empty, all waiting for the other thirty-nine to come home. Her hand stops an inch from the plug, and she finally understands what "out" really means.