"The homing pigeon," she says, "has an average flight speed of fifty or sixty miles per hour over distances where fifty miles is a short leg of the trip. Crows go about thirty. Also, I found a pigeon loft in Phoenix run by the most incredibly sweet little old lady who let me come in, talk to her about the history of pigeon racing for an hour, and feed and pet all the little beauties. I'm sure she'd be thrilled if I came back with friends."

"Your friends," says Bella, "are fascinated by the history of pigeon racing."

"Yes, I do."

"I would say you were my new favorite person, but Andi would throw something at me."

"Too right I would."

"I'll take second," Robin says cheerfully.

"Excellent, don't have to sling any projectiles."

"Seriously, beautiful notes. Ethan thinks you might not like my next proposed research project, though."

She grimaces in advance.

"Should I trust his assessment and just do the research myself?"

"He said I wouldn't like it; did he say I wouldn't do it?"

"No."

"I don't want to use up your goodwill on day one when I could do it myself, though."

"Why don't you tell me what it is first," Robin suggests.

"When we find Yeerk pools, I want to know what's obtainable, relatively compact, and likely to disagree with the inhabitants. I don't know if the right answer looks more like 'elemental sodium' or more like 'bleach' or what."

Bella shrugs. "They might turn out to be too heavily protected. For all I know there are force fields around the damn things. But from the sound of it there's two ways to find Yeerks. Lots of them, vulnerably swimming around in pools. Or one at a time. Hiding behind their hosts."

"I don't like that any better," sighs Robin. "I don't like any of this."

"It's lousy," Bella agrees.

He pets her hair.

"If I ever think of something better to do with Yeerks than kill them, I will be all over it," Bella promises.

Robin sighs again. "Great. ...No, I mean that, that is good, it's just..." She shrugs helplessly.