To his sister, he was still the same old James, her brother who took care of her, made sure she was safe, and told her what to do. Sure, he was different, bigger, more wrinkled, and not as funny, but he was still just James. Sasha hadn't had many good memories or friends as a child, so James wasn't going to fault her for making new ones. She was just a kid, and boring old James was just that. Boring. He reminded himself that this was just Sasha being a typical ten-year-old girl. This was normal.

Elise too had other priorities. The line out of her office-she actually had an office!-sometimes stretched all the way down the hall. People had to make appointments with her. She even had an assistant. Elise had changed from a frightened, temporally-displaced woman into the leader of the Elfreth, and now the new figurehead of a new nation, all in the span of a year. That woman was amazing.

Both had moved on. He wasn't the center of either of their lives anymore. Hell, he wasn't important to anyone. It had been weeks since anyone had come to him for help, with a request, or even questions. At first, it felt great not to have that responsibility, but now, now he felt useless and unwanted.

A shrill whistle snapped him back to reality. He had a sour taste in his mouth. Self-pity was a weak trait quickly weaned out of all initiates at the Academy. Those who wallowed too much usually washed out within the first year. He had to be better than this. Sasha and Elise deserved it. Still, the hurt in his chest was there.

"James," Sasha said, "can you take the kettle off and put a thermometer in there? Let me know when it's exactly twenty-seven degrees Celsius."

"Yes, Dr. Sasha." He hopped off the table and walked across the room to the electric grill.

"Don't be silly," she said. "I'm not a doctor yet, but Elise and Grace said I can be one day if I work hard and read the books they got me. Grace calls me a doctor-in-training."

James's heart almost leaped out of his chest, and tears welled in his eyes. "You sure can," he choked. "Explain what you're doing, doctor-in-training Sasha?"

Sasha was happy to chatter on about what she had learned. He could feel how much she loved and trusted him, and that meant the world still. James couldn't believe how much she had picked up in such a short time in the lab.

"Elder James," Wari, one of the guardians, called. "A voom approaches from the south."

"The Frankenstein?"

"Flyguard Chawr says no. He says the Frankenstein is not expected for seven days."

James grabbed his large gauss launcher from the counter. It was an older model Levin had scrounged from the Tech Wars. Its accuracy was awful, but the thing could take a beating, get wet and dirty, and still do its job. In a place such as this, reliability was an important attribute to have. It was also the only hand cannon in the tribe that had the kick of a tank. He jogged to the southern side of the building and leaned against the wall next to the window.

Ships rarely got this close to the All Galaxy. The density of buildings in this area made it hard for them to maneuver. Nonetheless, Co-op patrols had increased as of late. Three times this week, a scout ship had passed nearby, weaving slowly through the fog. All of the tribes in the area knew the importance of staying below the enemy's radar.

Any time one of their ships came close, a network of younger children would race through all the floors shouting warnings. The All Galaxy would change from a well-lit and bustling hive to just another dead husk in a sea of darkened buildings. Entire city blocks could go completely dark and quiet within minutes. This was critical, because if the Co-op ever found them, they could make a beeline right to their location.

At first, he heard nothing but the squawking of birds. The Mist Isle had a life of its own, with several species of predatory birds flying above the city, and thousands of other species living inside. Then he heard it, barely perceptible over the white noise, a soft grinding roar. He could tell that now-familiar sound from half a kilometer away.

"It's the Frankenstein," he said to Wari. "Stand down. Alert the others."

James trotted down to the landing deck on the seventy-third floor. Already, a dozen Elfreth had congregated on the balcony. The flyguards were there as well, ready to service the collie and prep it for its next flight. He wandered to the edge and looked down the skyscraper as the Frankenstein climbed up its side. One of these days, the Co-op was going to figure out that they were using the Battery Tunnel to sneak into Manhattan. Most of the underwater passages were blocked, but that particular one was wide enough for the collie to navigate slowly around the debris.

Combined with the collie's stealth technologies and the EMP fog on the island, it was all but impossible for surveillance to track the ship's movements. As long as the enemy continued to overlook the underwater passages, they could continue their operations.

The collie, still dripping wet, rose to the third roof, two-thirds up the building. James moved out of the way as it hovered over the platform and parked with a soft hiss. A few minutes later, Grace and Levin stepped out. The flyguards leaped into action and began to prep it right away for another flight. At the same time, a dozen of the younger Elfreth ran inside to unload the cargo. James walked to the edge of the roof and scanned the area: nothing but gray haze.

He looked back at Grace as she approached. "You're back early."

She jabbed a thumb behind her. "We had a little incident with a major ripple. The good auditor canceled the last jump."

James raised an eyebrow. "I told you he was awfully sensitive about stuff like that, and about the Time Laws specifically. Good job writing them. The rest of us have had to deal with those rules for centuries now."

She scowled and stomped away.

Levin appeared from inside the collie. "We need to talk."

"Can it wait until we finish unloading and get the collie covered up?"

"No, James, it can't."

James had known the man long enough to know he was serious. James was reminded of the many times he had been called into the auditor's office for a dressing-down. He noticed the Elfreth porters shooting glances their way. Every community gossiped, even wasteland tribes living in ruined decaying cities. Especially them, actually. The last thing the already-frazzled tribe needed was more gossip.

He motioned for Levin to follow him to the other end of the deck. He rounded on him once he was sure they were out of earshot. "First of all, don't voice your disagreement in front of the Elfreth. They are following us on loyalty and faith. The last thing we need is to give them doubt."

"The Elfreth will do as they're told," Levin said.

"They're not chronmen you can order around," James snapped. "They require a more delicate hand."

"Like yours, James?"

"Don't start with me, Levin. Now, what's got you all knotted up this time?"

Levin didn't bother lowering his voice. "We're doing this all wrong."

"That's a little broad," James replied dryly. "Which exact part of this are we not doing right, because I'm pretty sure there's a lot of things we're messing up."

Levin motioned at the group of Elfreth unloading the supplies. "I just almost caused a major time ripple getting a bunch of bullshit supplies."

"Those bullshit supplies are what's keeping you fed and the lights powered on."

"It's a bad use of resources and an even worse use of the chronostream."

None of this was news to James. He had had these exact same thoughts when he was the one doing jumps. He sat down at the edge of the roof and glanced over, seeing the writhing mist roll and bubble in the air. The drop was hundreds of meters, but the fog looked so thick it seemed like he could step onto it. If he squinted and angled his head, he could just make out a figure dancing in the mists. The figure stopped, and then walked directly toward him. James recoiled as Smitt appeared and leaped onto the edge of the balcony.

"You should try it sometime," his former handler said, balancing precariously on the ledge. "If I jump over the side, will you catch me, my friend? Oh, yeah, you're not wearing your bands anymore. You gave them to Levin. Now why would you do something so foolish? Remember what he did to Landon?"

"I'll never forget," he muttered.

"Did you say something?" Levin frowned. "You're acting strange."

"What's wrong with the Elfreth?" James asked, tearing his gaze away from his dead friend. He felt a sudden prick of anger at Levin's words. "The Elfreth took Elise and me in. They fed and sheltered us while you assholes tried to kill us. Not only that, they're the ones living off the land that the rest of us destroyed, and they're the ones trying to help us save it. Not the planetary governments, not ChronoCom, and as sure as abyss, not the megacorporations."

James never realized how protective he had become of the Elfreth until an outsider-James still considered Levin one-spoke ill of them. It was less than a year ago that he had been just as disdainful. Now, after everything they'd done for him, he was ready to defend them with his life. He didn't even realize how angry he was with Levin until he caught himself balling his hands into fists.

To his surprise, and for the first time that he could remember, Levin backed down. "You're right. Those were unkind words. The Elfreth have been supportive, and I had no right speaking like that. However, I stand by my point. We're doing it wrong."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"We're trying to solve a global pandemic with local resources. We, the Elfreth, and Elise, won't be able to carry out the plan even if we did find a cure. These primitives are barely able to keep the lights on, let alone work on a problem this big. We're going into this alone and it's not getting us anywhere."

"Says the guy who's been with us for, what, a couple of weeks? Says the guy who was responsible for attacking the Elfreth in the first place."

"I was doing the right thing at the time." Levins voice grew louder. "You're in this situation because you got emotional. That's what got you into trouble in the first place."

"Seems doing the right thing got you into trouble as well, except you took a detour through prison."

"Only because I went after you."

The two stood toe to toe, scowling into each other's faces. James wasn't sure if he could take Levin in a fair fight, but he was wound up enough to try. They might be on the same side, but years of animosity and bitterness didn't just melt away because they had the same goals.

Fortunately, Grace got between them, waving her hand at her face. "You two are getting me all hot and bothered. This is less than useful, and neither of you is inspiring the masses."

Both of them glanced over at the two dozen Elfreth frozen in place, staring. James had broken his own rule. These people either looked up to or feared them. Either way, that made this little tiff look bad. The gossip was going to be rampant. Elise was going to hear of this.

"We're doing it wrong," Levin repeated in a quieter voice.

"Well, feel free to update us savages when you figure out a better plan."

Levin scowled and stomped away.

Grace's gaze followed the former auditor. She turned to James. "He's not wrong, you know. You and I have had this discussion before."

James shrugged. "Of course he's not wrong, but I'm not giving him the satisfaction of just being right. Unless he has a solution and an actionable plan, being right isn't enough. Besides, he still hasn't thanked me for breaking him out of prison."

She looked over at James and shook her head. "Sometimes, pet, you're a petty little shit, you know that?"

He shrugged and turned his attention back to unloading the collie. "I'd like to think I'm just standing up for all of us, the little people Levin's so quick to dismiss. This fight affects everyone. By the way, did you retrieve the medical analyzer machines and medicines for Sasha like Titus asked?"

THIRTY-TWO.

SHOT ACROSS THE BOW.

When Weck was a kid, he messed up a lot and ran with a bunch of tunnel rats. Finally, his pap had had enough and told him that he had better get his ass straight and pull his own weight in the colony. "Don't be a dreg," Pap had said, "because those that can't afford air don't get to breathe for free. They get shipped off to that shithole in space." He would point up into the domed sky and then reinforce his lecture with a metal rod to Weck's bent rear.

Eventually, Weck got the lesson beaten into him, and he followed his pap's advice. He stopped running with the tunnel rats, fulfilled his Luna citizenship hours, and began earning a respectable commission at one of the largest and most powerful megacorporations. By all indications, he had done what Pap had said. He wasn't a dreg. However, somehow, Weck ended up shipped off to that shithole in the sky anyway.

"I hate Earth," he said, chewing and spitting cany weed as his team of five hunkered down for the night on the seventy-third floor of a building identified on the map only as the Pierre. "I busted my ass so I wouldn't end up here."

Weck's hound pack was assigned the unfortunate task of surveying the block east of the Central Park jungle, south to Sixtieth and east to Madison Avenue. According to his pack leader, Co-op forces were coming through here next week, and she wanted every floor on the block fully surveyed.

Usually, that would be more than enough time for the job, but no one had accounted for how much trouble buildings next to Central Park were to survey. The dense jungle in the center of the Mist Isle had grown outward in every direction, getting its stinking tentacles into all the adjacent structures. Thousands of massive vines and branches-some as thick as a man was tall-jutted into the buildings through windows, cracks, and doors. Some of the larger plants had made their own entrances by smashing through walls.

To top things off, the wildlife here-Weck wasn't even counting the savages-was particularly dense. Already, in the first building, a relatively modest eighty-two-floor residence, his team had run into four different packs of large cats and a pit of humanoid snake creatures. His men had flamed out one of the cat lairs, but had decided to leave the rest to the main force.

Surprisingly, the tribes here were sparse. Nonexistent, almost. Weck and his men had thought the savages would congregate around the jungle, much like the wildlife did, but they had barely seen more than a few small groups here and there. They found evidence of habitation on several sites, some quite large, but they all seemed to have been abandoned. He guessed the Senior Securitate's new plan of spreading fear and terror among the primitives was working.

They did find a small savage tribe lingering in the area. Weck and his team of five had stumbled upon the twenty or so savages just as they were roasting dinner-some large deer-like creature. His boys had decided that they would rather have venison than their rations, and the twenty primitives weren't much of a threat, so they swooped in. The savages were taken by surprise and didn't put up much of a fight. Within minutes, Weck's pack had killed half the tribe and sent the rest scurrying away.

His men were clearing the floor when he saw a pair of eyes hiding under a blanket. He pulled the blanket off and discovered a young, scrawny boy, probably no older than eight. The little animal smelled like piss. Weck pulled him to his feet and pushed the savage against the wall.

"Not too smart, are you?" He grinned. He put his hand on the dirty urchin's neck and aimed the gun at his forehead. Before he could pull the trigger, the animal bit his hand and ran off. Smarting, Weck fired twice but missed both times. The little savage scurried under a broken table, and then fled the room.

Marl wanted to chase after him, saying it was more humane to put down the kid than to let him get eaten by the cats and dogs and snakemen, but the roasted venison smelled delicious, and it was getting dark. Whatever little light managed to shine through this accursed fog was fading, and no one felt like wading through the darkness looking for savages to euthanize.

Weck, shaking his smarting hand, sat down and threw his pack off. "Go after him yourself if you want. I'll be sure to eat your portion before you get back."

The rest of the guys laughed and settled around the fire. By all indications, the small tribe had been living here for years. They occupied half a floor of the building and even had crops on the balconies. Weck and his team ate their fill and stretched out around the fire.

"I can't wait until this project is over." Rindle yawned and stretched. "I thought when I got the commission, I'd be fighting the Radicati, not wading through this cesspool. I mean, every time I inhale, I feel like gagging."

Weck took out his pouch of cany weed and tossed it to Rindle. "You know, when I was a kid back on Luna, I once asked my pap why we lived there and pay for air if we can just move to Earth and get it for free. He smacked me on the back of the head and told me anything that's worth having is worth paying for. I didn't really get it until my first trip to Earth. He was an asshole, but Pap got it right."

"The free air here is what the freeloaders deserve. Those of us willing to work and pay for it deserve the clean stuff," Rindle added. "Capitalism and corporations will save humanity." The men around them echoed in agreement.

"Listen up, boys," Weck said. "Turn in early. We got a whole block to survey and less than a week to do it. The pack leader's not going to chew me out for missing another project deadline. Rindle, first watch, then Zimm, Marl, and then Giggy. I'll take the morning."

"Why do you always get the last?" Giggy asked.

"You get to be the last when you're lead."

Weck's pack settled in just as night swept over the isle. Whatever dim light was shining through the haze was gone, and the only thing staving off the darkness was the small dying fire at their feet. The four not keeping watch were soon fast asleep.

It seemed no sooner had he closed his eyes than Weck heard a muffled cry and then a shuffling of footsteps. Like any good soldier, he was up in a blink with his blaster out. He must have slept a few hours at least. The fire was only embers. The three men around him were still asleep and he could hear a shuffling just outside in the hallway.

"Rindle?" Weck whispered, turning his head beam on. The line of light painted the walls as he swiveled left and right. "Associate Hound Rindle. Report." When he received no response, Weck kicked the man next to him. "Zimm. Get up. Sweeps the floor-"

A thud in his chest knocked Weck onto his back. He had been in enough battles to know when he had been shot. He groaned and looked down, frowning when he realized that it was an ax sticking out of his chest. He tried to call out an alarm but only hisses escaped his lips. Weck put his left hand on the ax and tried to pull it loose. The pain almost made him lose consciousness.

He slumped back down to the ground and watched as the night came alive. Zimm sat up and stared mouth-open at the wooden handle growing out of Weck's chest. As soon as he tried to stand, a shadow flashed from behind, and blood poured out of his opened throat. More shadows flew into the room, several flying past Weck's head beam in a dark blur.

The other two men were able to get to their feet and fire off a few shots. The room flashed as Marl's rifle strafed across it. He must have hit several of the attackers, because a chorus of screams followed. Then his rifle stopped firing and the blackness swallowed him whole. Marl fell at Weck's feet, his eyes wide open.

Just as soon as the attack began, it ended, and the room was silent and dark again except for Weck's head beam and the sound of his heavy breathing. Several bright white lights bathed the room, brightening it as if it were day. Weck shielded his eyes as one of the sources shined directly into his face. When he finally adjusted, he saw that he was surrounded by savages. Weck's eyes widened as a small figure stepped in front of him.

It was the boy who had gotten away. The boy stared at Weck stone-faced, then he looked up at the man next to him and nodded. The man, draped in all black, unsheathed a knife from his belt. He offered it handle facing out. The boy took it and looked at Weck. The words that came out of his mouth sounded like gibberish.

"I don't speak savage." Weck coughed and spat blood. "I should have gutted you when I had the chance."

"He said he has avenged his parents by bringing us to their murderers. He claims all your deaths as his. We have given them to him."

The savage's Solar English was barely understandable, but it was natural; he wasn't using a comm band. "Where did you learn..." Weck never finished his sentence. The boy rammed the blade into Weck's chest opposite of where the ax was still lodged. He gasped and spat out blood, then he fell over to his side. Weck's last thought before dying was how much he hated Earth.

Elise walked with Eriao under heavy escort across the three kilometers from the All Galaxy Tower to the scene of the first battle between Manhattan and the Co-op. Both Eriao and Murad had counseled against her going, but she had insisted. This was the first volley of their war to drive the enemy off the island, and she wanted to witness it.

One of the lookouts stationed at an outpost in that area had heard gunfire. He had gone to investigate and found a boy running blindly through the building. The boy had told him what happened, and the lookout had sent the alert through to the All Galaxy. Elise had been awakened early in the evening and notified that a small Co-op squad had been detected. Eriao, now the de facto war chief of Manhattan, had made the call to stage an ambush and draw first blood. The two of them had decided to venture out to see the historical first battle together, though by all accounts, it wasn't much of a fight, ending within a matter of seconds.

They were escorted into the room, and Eriao immediately went off to the side to talk to Murad, who had led the battle. The first thing Elise noticed was the row of nearly twenty bodies arranged neatly at one end of the room. Murad had said they were the Taj, a tiny friendly tribe that never bothered anyone and only wanted to be left alone. Now most of them were dead by the hand of Co-op soldiers.