Luna paces through the room, back and forth and back and forth, and the frustration builds from the bottom-up—the simple fact that Noh and no one else, none of the lieutenants or anyone seems to care about the loss of Garciá Marquez.

“You’re a bunch of hypocrites is what I think! And bastards! You’re gonna leave him behind!”

Noh is the only one to speak and she looks straight into Luna’s eyes, “We came to this movement knowing that there was a risk. I am sure that Garciá was on our side—he told me that much. If we can free him, if there is way that won’t kill us all then we will invest our total capacity to get him back; but God dammit, Luna, you also have to understand that we are the enemy of the State. What we do is wrong, and we cannot save everyone who chooses to fight with us.”

While she is speaking to Luna, Noh turns to the rest of the group, tired now, exhausted from the mission, leaning on walls and hoping for space. “Are you ready to go, Luna!?—to jail, maybe torture? Will any of you go for her?”

The shadows on the walls holler that they will fight for Luna.

Luna: “Why can’t we win? We’re right, aren’t we?”

Noh: “Right is only that which once injured for, remains a reason. The rest is our horrible genetics and history and culture. We’re not the winners, yet.”

There’s mumbling approval among the shadows at this precipitous “yet.”

Luna bows her head. “We do our best.”

Noh smiles. “Hardly do we do our best.” She reaches out her hand to Luna’s shoulder and squeezes. Turning to the rest, she says, “But we do. Others watch. And cower. And this is who we are, all the time and always. We are human. We can do no more. But we will fight!” She raises her arm and that is all that is necessary for the men and women in the room to raise their arms as well and call out for freedom.