"I'm going to show you a training hologram," Eric said instead.

"Final level," Grace replied, hoping he couldn't tell what she'd been thinking.

Eric went to the wall and clicked a b.u.t.ton. Multicolored particles tingled in the air and formed into the shape of the gray-hooded young Postman Eric had spoken to in the subway.

"He's not actually here, of course," Eric explained. "But he made the video and is the model for the hologram. His name is Javaun."

The hologram of Javaun began running very fast around the gym. Grace was amazed as he ran up the side of a padded wall, nearly to the ceiling, and then back down again. Launching himself over the pit of foam blocks, he spun in the air and rolled to a standing stop on the other side and kept moving to the parallel bars, which he spun on, changing hands several times before shooting over to the balance beam, executing a backward walk-over, and spinning to the floor.

"Wow," Grace breathed, genuinely awed.

"That's just a training session. Wait until you see it in real life. People think the Postmen have gone away, but we haven't. There's more need for us now than ever. In fact, we've stepped up our game by adding free running."

"Can you do all that?" Grace asked.

"Yep," Eric said with a nod. "And soon you'll be able to, as well."

"I don't think so." Grace couldn't imagine it.

"You will, because I'm going to teach you and I'm one of the best teachers around," Eric insisted.

"Modest, too," Grace teased.

"No reason for modesty at this juncture. It is what it is," Eric said.

For the next five hours, Eric and Grace went outside where Grace experienced the most grueling training of her life. Despite her years of experience with gymnastics, she felt like a beginner.

"Grab hold! Pretend you're a bug on a wall!" he instructed her.

"You can run faster than that! Race up that wall before gravity knows you're there," he shouted.

"Roll! Roll! And on your feet!"

At the end of the training session, Grace felt sweaty and broken. "Not bad for the first session. Tomorrow we'll try some basic urban free," Eric said.

"How long have you been a Postman?" Grace asked Eric as they returned to the bas.e.m.e.nt, safely underground.

"Just for the last year," Eric replied. "I love it. It tests your body and your mind to the max. Plus, I'm helping people to not have their every communication monitored by Global-1. That makes me feel good."

"In what ways does it test your mind?" Grace wanted to know. The ways in which it tested the body were obvious.

"You have to look for the links between people, as well as between places," Eric replied. "Ever hear of six degrees of separation?"

"No."

"It's the idea that everyone in the world is connected to everyone else in six moves. Say I have to get a note to a guy in Brooklyn, New York. I search him on the Internet, and for most people there is a ton of info there. Sometimes I can find the address right online. In that case I just find a Postman heading that way and pa.s.s on the message. If I can't, I start looking for people with the same last name, people who work in the same business, have similar interests, who went to the same school, and on and on. Lots of the time you wind up finding the friend of a friend of a friend who worked with a guy who knows the person's sister. The Postman's goal is to do it in no more than six moves."

"It doesn't sound easy," Grace remarked. "How do you know which Postman to contact?"

"You hear things and talk to people. After a while, you'll get to know. I'll help you," Eric a.s.sured her.

"Do the Postmen all know each other?"

"Yeah, but it takes a while," Eric replied. "It's better if we know Postmen to hand messages off to, but there's no central directory or anything. You just have to get to know people."

"What about the Postman who said he knew where my family was? Do you know him?"

"That guy who poses as a subway nut? His name is Darrell. Javaun is a friend of his. They work the subway a lot. I'll find him for you."

"Do you think you could?"

"Sure. I'll ask him what he knows," Eric a.s.sured her. "Grace, you're going to be good at this. I think you'll like it, too."

Grace was excited to try being a Postman, but it still sounded daunting to her. The long hours of training had taxed her to her limit and she couldn't quite imagine doing it again in the morning. "Can I rest now?" she asked.

"Find a piece of foam and settle in," Eric told her.

Dropping into a pit of foam blocks, Grace piled some blocks under her head and stretched out. She was aware of every muscle of her body because each one felt hot and stretched to its limit; each joint ached.

Eric piled three mats down and lay on his stomach. "Are you still mad at me, Grace?"

"I don't mind working hard," she answered. "I want to learn it."

"Not about that. I know you're not mad about that," Eric said. "But you were angry when you learned I was the one a.s.signed to follow you."

This wasn't her instructor talking. Or a Postman. Or a Decode operative. Suddenly, Eric was a guy again - the guy who went to her high school. The guy she'd liked.

The truth was, Grace wasn't mad anymore. Just sad. Still.

"I thought we were really ... friends," she said, ready to leave it at that.

"We've become friends. I really like you, Grace. I think you're smart and brave."

"Thanks."

"And pretty ... beautiful, really."

Grace drew in a long, slow breath. Beautiful. He thought she was beautiful. She had never thought of herself that way but it was enough that he did.

"I mean it, Grace. I'm not just giving you a line. Being a.s.signed to follow you was like a gift. It's been the best a.s.signment I've ever had."

"Thanks, Eric ... for saying all that. It means a lot for me to know you're not just spending time with me because you have no choice."

"I hope you'll always spend time with me," Eric said softly. "I don't like the idea of being separated from you."

His words made Grace take a short, quick breath of surprised delight. Did he mean that? "Me neither," she replied, suddenly certain that she meant it. Being with Eric was so natural. His confidence made her feel that everything could be managed and would come out all right in the end. Even with so many things going so wrong.

Eric yawned widely as he stretched. "We should sleep. Tomorrow will be just as hard as today."

"Can't wait," Grace replied without a trace of sarcasm. "Good night," she added, drifting off to sleep with a smile lingering on her lips.

In the morning, Eric gently shook her awake and handed her a carton of orange juice and a b.u.t.tered roll. Brushing hair from her eyes, she sat up and drank. "Thanks."

"Today we're going to start you free running outside," Eric said. "You'll have to wear the jacket."

"What's it like outside?"

"Not bad," he answered, "but there's a strange light in the sky. I'm not sure how to describe it. It's almost as if the sun is extra bright."

Pasadena Sun Pasadena, California - July 14, 2026 Solar Flares Disrupt Worldwide Communications A report today from the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) claims that vastly increased solar activity in the sun's corona has created a sudden brightness in the sky and has disrupted many communication venues that rely on satellite signals. Lead scientist Heather Mitch.e.l.l explains that "streams of high energy particles known as solar wind events or coronal ma.s.s ejection impact the Earth's magnetosphere and represent hazards to s.p.a.cecraft and satellites."

NOAA claims that its scientists did not antic.i.p.ate this development to happen for many hundreds of years. "This is the most unprecedented solar activity we have ever observed in all the years we have been studying solar activity," Mitch.e.l.l noted.

When asked what might be causing this, Mitch.e.l.l replied that NASA scientists are divided in their opinion. "Some are of the mind that this is simply a solar pattern much like what the Earth goes through with fluctuations in its temperature. Others believe that there is some change in the overall atmosphere that is causing this. Since Earth is the only inhabited planet, to our knowledge, there are those who think changes here on Earth might be prompting these solar irregularities." NASA has even called in a Native American shaman from the Iroquois Nation who told reporters, "The native people from across the continent are meeting to discuss this issue. The Earth is not in balance. As in a human body, when one of the parts is ill, the other parts are affected. So it is with the universe."

Kayla leaned against one of the cars parked in the garage and handed Grace a shopping bag. "Some presents for your big day," she said with a grin. Today would be Grace's first run as a Postman.

When Grace pulled the black hip-length jacket from the bag, the silver lining crinkled gently. "Reach in the pocket," Kayla added.

When she reached in, Grace found a metal box resembling one of the larger old-style cell phones. It was the same kind of signal jammer Eric had used that day on the roof.

"Global-1 is still searching for you," Kayla said. "They've got to be. And that means they are still scanning the area, just waiting for your signal to beep onto their screens."

"But why?"

"They're thinking that they can use you to find Dr. Harriman," Kayla replied.

"How do you know that?"

"We don't know it for sure," Kayla admitted. "They might have Harriman already. But they might not, and we don't want to risk it."

"What do you think they want him for?"

Kayla shrugged and shook her head. "He's their genius. Maybe he wants out. Maybe he's threatening to go public and tell all he knows about all their dirty dealings."

"What do you think would happen if he did that?" Grace asked.

Kayla's face grew somber as she hopped up onto the car's hood and sat cross-legged there a moment before answering. "I don't know, Grace. It's possible that nothing would happen. Global-1 already has their man in the White House. Who knows how many leaders they control in other countries? Ambrose Young is one of our most powerful public figures, and he can't bring them down."

"So why do you keep fighting them?"

Again, Kayla took a while before answering, as though she were asking herself the same question and digging deep for the truth. Grace knew Kayla's story - all the running, hiding; all the lies that had been told about her; all the personal loss she'd suffered. What could possibly keep her going?

"I fight because I'm alive and every living thing longs to be free," Kayla said, finally. "I feel as if I've had a net thrown over me by Global-1. We all do what Global-1 wants us to do, live the way they say, believe what their commercials and TV news want us to believe. It's set up so that they can get richer and greedier and more powerful by the day. And all the while they destroy the planet we inhabit and make our lives smaller. But I know there's more mystery, happiness, and meaning in life than what they're offering. In my heart I feel the world can be better than what it is. We all believe it, and Eutonah helped us see it."

"Was that when you studied with her in the Adirondack Mountains?" Grace knew Kayla and Mfumbe had studied spirituality and even telepathy with Eutonah's group before Global-1 had raided them, jailing Eutonah.

Kayla's face softened and she smiled gently. "Eutonah is my hero. When I think of her, I become sure there is more to a person than just being a product branded with a bar code. I know it because she's so much more."

"But Global-1 is so huge and powerful," Grace said.

"I know," Kayla agreed, sliding off the hood of the car and seeming to regain her all-business att.i.tude. "So we'll fight them little piece by little piece. Katie and Mfumbe have taken the truck back to one of our outposts in the Great Basin Desert. The caves there are perfect because no radar or satellite signal can penetrate. They're picking up a new batch of tattoo fakes."

"A lot of people are involved in this movement, aren't they?" Grace asked.

"More and more every day," Kayla said. "People are getting fed up. Now let's see how that cloaking jacket fits you."

Grace pulled on the jacket, disliking the feel of the lining and a slight tightness at the shoulders. Sighing with resignation, she dropped the jammer into the pocket. If fighting Global-1 meant wearing a hot, ill-fitting jacket, then that's how it had to be. Besides, this was her best bet for finding her family and staying out of Global-1's clutches.

"Looking good, Grace!" Allyson walked toward them from the back of the garage. "That jacket makes you look very anonymous and indistinct. You might want to tie your hair back, too, for a totally nondescript effect. Postmen aim to blend in with the scenery."

Jack was beside her and he held a manila envelope. "In here is your first a.s.signment. It shouldn't be that difficult, but it's really important. We thought it would be a good way to start you out because the guy we want you to find is right here in the city. His name is Harry Clemente and he works for the people who fund the swing-lo production. We're asking for additional funding to add stealth technology to make it invisible to radar and satellite tracking."

"We also want to get into ma.s.s production," Allyson added. "We think we're ready."

"Even after the last one fell apart?" Kayla questioned skeptically.

"Yeah, but now I know how high it can go - or can't go," Jack said. "Don't worry. I'll test the next one myself. I'd like to get out to the desert again and try it un.o.bstructed by buildings." Jack looked to Kayla and smiled. "Remember when we were out in the desert, zipping around in that ratty first model?"

"I couldn't believe I was really in a s.p.a.ceship," Kayla told everyone. "It didn't seem real."

"But now you're used to it, aren't you?" Allyson said.

"I am. It's true," Kayla agreed.

Jack handed Grace the envelope and she saw there was no address. "Where do I go?" she asked.

"You're a Postman now. You've got to find him. Sometimes I see him in Katz's Diner in downtown Hollywood. Start there. There's a fake tattoo in there. Ask him to put the bar code credits into the bank account encoded there. See if he wants you to wait for an answer."

"Is Eric going with me?"

"No. He's on his own run this morning. It's all yours."

Grace took the subway toward downtown Los Angeles, feeling self-conscious in her foil lined jacket. Every time she moved she was acutely aware of the soft crinkling of the material. Besides that, it was brutally hot out; the news reported over one hundred Fahrenheit, and to be in a jacket made her feel conspicuous in addition to being overheated. At least the subway was air-conditioned.

She'd found the address of Katz's Diner and was headed for it. Surely someone there would know of Harry Clemente. The a.s.signment seemed incredibly simple, requiring no free-running and not much brain power, either. Grace was glad for her first a.s.signment to be a no-brainer.

Katz's Diner was only half full when Grace sat at the counter and ordered scrambled eggs and toast. "Do you know a man named Harry Clemente?" she asked the waitress.

The waitress smiled at her. "Postman?" she inquired in the barest of whispers.

Grace shook her head in reply. Eric had instructed her never to admit to being a Postman. It might be a trap. Being a Postman was illegal, and rewards were offered to anyone who turned one in to authorities. "No. He's my uncle and I need to find him."

"Well, your Aunt Stephanie just walked in," the waitress said, and from her ironic tone, Grace knew she'd failed to convince the woman. She tilted her head toward a tall blond woman of about forty.

"Thanks," Grace said. Normally she would have presented her arm so the waitress could run her handheld scanner over it for payment. But she remembered that Eric had told her not to buy anything along the way. It was another way Global-1 could find her. Unfortunately she hadn't remembered this until she was halfway through her meal.

The waitress looked at her and then leaned in close. "Postmen eat free here," she whispered.